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Was I crazy? Was I being abused?
2021.12.22 20:05 citiestarlightsWas I crazy? Was I being abused?
Hello....i guess i get a low point and think that i was the mean and evil one in the relationship.....
I should start from the beginning
i was in a three long relationship. the first two was great! I really did love this person.
But i do have screenshots. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1bLLfPuEuWdzS-flAaLydigEYCFbhAtYJzycnenyo01U/edit?usp=sharing
i want to put in more. however, i dont know how to make them bigger without making it look like is blurry.
But in 2020 a girl named S got raped by this guy named K. you can read his text messages. I took her to the cops and I also stayed that K also Sa me as well. It was at my ex's house while his friends were all watching, after me and S reported it. My ex and his friends said that S was getting money and getting famous. (she is still waiting for a trail 2 years later) I should note that k did go to the hospital after he r4p3 s. he tried to commit suicide.
at the time i started to question the group. I will say that this was very normal behavior. K was a 30 year old man. He and his friends, who were also 25-30 year old men only dated 16 year olds. K dated this girl named G. G was raped by D when she was a minor. D was the one telling k that girls always changed their minds. Additionally, the group said that G was evil and manipulative. G was a 16 year old girl. the group was all men who were 30. When i was around her i felt like she was a good person. THese guys would live in Pa drive to N's house who lived 2 hours away in Pa to play dnd. These adult men would drive these girls there.
Furthermore, my ex's closes friend named N. Dated a girl with Asperger's. He broke up with her. Then he called back saying that he missed her and wanted back together. she flat out said that he was mean to her. N told everyone that she was evil and mean. I questioned my ex about it saying why was she mean. He only could give me the answer because she was mean. But i was asking what did she do. he just shrugged and said just because.
As time passed I kept questioning the group.
I was asking my then partner can you please not be around K and his friends who said it was ok being around k. He told me I was mean and evil person. No one will ever ask someone to do that, i felt so guilty for asking that i did not talk to anyone. I locked myself away. and talked to no one for a whole year. I only went to his place that was it. During that year, I was questioning him and his actions. I was wondering why would a men who was 22 with his friends who were all 25- 30 year old men only being around 16 year old girls. No girl was older then 18. i felt off about this one girl who was 16. She would always make fun of me because i did not want to spend money on games, he would always ditch me to be with her. And when i would ask about adult fun time. he said no he would be taking her soon. I know what i did was wrong but i did go through his phone. I saw their text messages they sent to each other, They were saying i love you's and sending hearts. and he was being lovely dovey with her. i was heart broken. i spent a whole year crying and asking him can please stop seeing her. He would say you are breaking up a friendship. you are evil. he would always have other women's jewelry in his car. i did not say anything. but he as the one picking it up and say 'wow i never seen this where did this come from?'
I felt like i was the other women. i would always beg him to be around. but he would rather be with his friends. in the relationship it was getting worse. I hope this is not to bad....to say here.....
some stories, I have a history of a family's member calling me up and sayin if you do not sleep with me ill kill you and how i r4p3 you and another cousin. yes i told. no people did not do anything to protect me. Well my mom invited family over. I knew it was happening in a 2 months, I told him what was happening crying. asking for help. He told me 'I have dnd. Go ask someone else.' Now this was normal. His mom had a birthday that fell when he would play dnd. furthermore, he ditched her birthday to play dnd. And she was crying. He would always ditch his family parties to go play dnd. I did ask friends for help. Who was away in north Carolina. I was hanging out with their parents. I was petting chickens and playin with their dogs. I know this is horroble. I told him that i wanted him to be with me., but he said how i had his friends backs. and he was having fun at dnd.
Another example, before covid i did not have enough money to get food. So you would go to local places that gave poor people food. (he knew he saw me get bags ) During covid i did not have enough money to get food. I did not eat for weeks, I was begging him food everyday. He did not care,..
I bruised my metatarsal bones that broke years ago when I slid into a tree. I could not walk. he had to care me into the shower. when i was in there he would always pee on me. He would sit there and laugh and say you deserve this. I would silently cry. He did this multiple times when we took a shower, and there is video of me and him in his back yard. I was running around playing with his sweet dog. I got tired so i laid down under their tree that was half way up a small hill. I was out of breath. He walked over he said ' i have to take a dump' he turned around and acted like he was taking off his pants. I screamed and said do not ever do again. he looked scared. his parents were in the kitchen looking at us. He went inside,. I sat outside thinking i was a horrible person. i ruined our relationship. i was a evil gf. a horrible gf. i was trying my best.
He would always leave a text message saying you are making me stop talking to my friends.!! I felt horrible....I sat there and cry thinking that i was a horrible person. i would call. and text him but he did not answer for hours and hours!! i felt so horrible. i felt like i deserved it. he would answer back saying 'oh i had a bad brian. i got really depressed.' this time he was back in person with his dnd group. they would all hang out all weekend. and he would not come home until sunday night. SO i dont understand how i was stop him from being around his friends...when even at times i stop talking to him for hours......he was the only person i would talk to.....and i hated it i felt sooo sad saying i love you to him.
the thing was i was calling him out for what he did.. sometimes he would say yah....i know. i know i keep hurting you. to you are crazy i never did anything like that. you are crazy you are thinking badly!!
i had no idea what to do so i went to his parents and his good friends and told everything. his mom was crying. i showed the police report. the other victims and wanted to make it clear i wanted my ex top have a good happy life. not be around questionable men. He had a 16 year old sister at home i did not want her to be around these guys who still hang out with k. at a JULY PARTY one of ex's good friends said fuck k. my ex pulled me close and said 'do they know about k? did you tell mthem anything!!'
'no. they do not know.' i lied.
the next day. i told him what k did. i found out that k was still in the group. my ex and k were best friends. the group still had a group of minors. My ex said his friends would get girls across the county to stay at k's house. i really wanted my ex to get away from these guys and was begging can you please stop talking to his friends who are ok with k. my ex said they kick k out.
but my ex broke up with me a few day later. and i see that my ex's friends still hang out with k around town.
i did meet another girls who were hurt by the group.. who my ex paid to have sex with. he gave her money. but his *cough* was to small. she could not do it. he would call and leave threating voicemails and messages saying he would hurt himself if she did not have s3x with him.
even after 6 months later i can still hear him say i am evil and mean......i still cry and hurt thinkin about what my ex did....
submitted bycitiestarlightstoabusiverelationships [link][comments]I should start from the beginning
i was in a three long relationship. the first two was great! I really did love this person.
But i do have screenshots. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1bLLfPuEuWdzS-flAaLydigEYCFbhAtYJzycnenyo01U/edit?usp=sharing
i want to put in more. however, i dont know how to make them bigger without making it look like is blurry.
But in 2020 a girl named S got raped by this guy named K. you can read his text messages. I took her to the cops and I also stayed that K also Sa me as well. It was at my ex's house while his friends were all watching, after me and S reported it. My ex and his friends said that S was getting money and getting famous. (she is still waiting for a trail 2 years later) I should note that k did go to the hospital after he r4p3 s. he tried to commit suicide.
at the time i started to question the group. I will say that this was very normal behavior. K was a 30 year old man. He and his friends, who were also 25-30 year old men only dated 16 year olds. K dated this girl named G. G was raped by D when she was a minor. D was the one telling k that girls always changed their minds. Additionally, the group said that G was evil and manipulative. G was a 16 year old girl. the group was all men who were 30. When i was around her i felt like she was a good person. THese guys would live in Pa drive to N's house who lived 2 hours away in Pa to play dnd. These adult men would drive these girls there.
Furthermore, my ex's closes friend named N. Dated a girl with Asperger's. He broke up with her. Then he called back saying that he missed her and wanted back together. she flat out said that he was mean to her. N told everyone that she was evil and mean. I questioned my ex about it saying why was she mean. He only could give me the answer because she was mean. But i was asking what did she do. he just shrugged and said just because.
As time passed I kept questioning the group.
I was asking my then partner can you please not be around K and his friends who said it was ok being around k. He told me I was mean and evil person. No one will ever ask someone to do that, i felt so guilty for asking that i did not talk to anyone. I locked myself away. and talked to no one for a whole year. I only went to his place that was it. During that year, I was questioning him and his actions. I was wondering why would a men who was 22 with his friends who were all 25- 30 year old men only being around 16 year old girls. No girl was older then 18. i felt off about this one girl who was 16. She would always make fun of me because i did not want to spend money on games, he would always ditch me to be with her. And when i would ask about adult fun time. he said no he would be taking her soon. I know what i did was wrong but i did go through his phone. I saw their text messages they sent to each other, They were saying i love you's and sending hearts. and he was being lovely dovey with her. i was heart broken. i spent a whole year crying and asking him can please stop seeing her. He would say you are breaking up a friendship. you are evil. he would always have other women's jewelry in his car. i did not say anything. but he as the one picking it up and say 'wow i never seen this where did this come from?'
I felt like i was the other women. i would always beg him to be around. but he would rather be with his friends. in the relationship it was getting worse. I hope this is not to bad....to say here.....
some stories, I have a history of a family's member calling me up and sayin if you do not sleep with me ill kill you and how i r4p3 you and another cousin. yes i told. no people did not do anything to protect me. Well my mom invited family over. I knew it was happening in a 2 months, I told him what was happening crying. asking for help. He told me 'I have dnd. Go ask someone else.' Now this was normal. His mom had a birthday that fell when he would play dnd. furthermore, he ditched her birthday to play dnd. And she was crying. He would always ditch his family parties to go play dnd. I did ask friends for help. Who was away in north Carolina. I was hanging out with their parents. I was petting chickens and playin with their dogs. I know this is horroble. I told him that i wanted him to be with me., but he said how i had his friends backs. and he was having fun at dnd.
Another example, before covid i did not have enough money to get food. So you would go to local places that gave poor people food. (he knew he saw me get bags ) During covid i did not have enough money to get food. I did not eat for weeks, I was begging him food everyday. He did not care,..
I bruised my metatarsal bones that broke years ago when I slid into a tree. I could not walk. he had to care me into the shower. when i was in there he would always pee on me. He would sit there and laugh and say you deserve this. I would silently cry. He did this multiple times when we took a shower, and there is video of me and him in his back yard. I was running around playing with his sweet dog. I got tired so i laid down under their tree that was half way up a small hill. I was out of breath. He walked over he said ' i have to take a dump' he turned around and acted like he was taking off his pants. I screamed and said do not ever do again. he looked scared. his parents were in the kitchen looking at us. He went inside,. I sat outside thinking i was a horrible person. i ruined our relationship. i was a evil gf. a horrible gf. i was trying my best.
He would always leave a text message saying you are making me stop talking to my friends.!! I felt horrible....I sat there and cry thinking that i was a horrible person. i would call. and text him but he did not answer for hours and hours!! i felt so horrible. i felt like i deserved it. he would answer back saying 'oh i had a bad brian. i got really depressed.' this time he was back in person with his dnd group. they would all hang out all weekend. and he would not come home until sunday night. SO i dont understand how i was stop him from being around his friends...when even at times i stop talking to him for hours......he was the only person i would talk to.....and i hated it i felt sooo sad saying i love you to him.
the thing was i was calling him out for what he did.. sometimes he would say yah....i know. i know i keep hurting you. to you are crazy i never did anything like that. you are crazy you are thinking badly!!
i had no idea what to do so i went to his parents and his good friends and told everything. his mom was crying. i showed the police report. the other victims and wanted to make it clear i wanted my ex top have a good happy life. not be around questionable men. He had a 16 year old sister at home i did not want her to be around these guys who still hang out with k. at a JULY PARTY one of ex's good friends said fuck k. my ex pulled me close and said 'do they know about k? did you tell mthem anything!!'
'no. they do not know.' i lied.
the next day. i told him what k did. i found out that k was still in the group. my ex and k were best friends. the group still had a group of minors. My ex said his friends would get girls across the county to stay at k's house. i really wanted my ex to get away from these guys and was begging can you please stop talking to his friends who are ok with k. my ex said they kick k out.
but my ex broke up with me a few day later. and i see that my ex's friends still hang out with k around town.
i did meet another girls who were hurt by the group.. who my ex paid to have sex with. he gave her money. but his *cough* was to small. she could not do it. he would call and leave threating voicemails and messages saying he would hurt himself if she did not have s3x with him.
even after 6 months later i can still hear him say i am evil and mean......i still cry and hurt thinkin about what my ex did....
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2021.12.22 19:11 mitte90Children and young adults make proteins more efficiently than the old - implications for mRNA adverse events appearing in the young
Due to multiple factors, older age groups are at higher risk of cancer than younger ones (these factors include: immune senescence, slower rate of repair, more time for exposure to carcinogenic environmental conditions and for cancer-causing mutations to accumulate and replicate within the body). On the other hand, it is known that cancers often progress more slowly in the elderly than in the young because there is less turnover of new cell growth and protein production in elderly bodies.' Cancer of the elderly exhibits slower growth because their body already has a slower rate of cell development than those of young ones ' - https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5763438/
'The one positive thing about cancer and aging is that cancer cells proliferate less quickly in an older patient, so senior cancer tends to progress at a much slower rate than cancer in younger people ' - http://www.age-well.org/cancer-and-aging.html
This post is not about cancer, but I'm mentioning it as an example to illustrate that we know that there is a higher rate of cell turnover and growth in the young compared to the old.
I think what this could mean in terms of the relative risks of mRNA vaccines to different age groups has been largely overlooked and we need to get this out there as a matter of urgency to raise awareness of the danger that it represents to the young.
We already know that there are very different risk-benefit profiles for the elderly compared to younger people with the covid vaccines. Elderly people are at far greater risk of severe covid or covid death compared to the young, while the young have tended to be more affected by myocarditis, thrombocytopenia, stroke and other serious and potentially serious adverse effects of the mRNA vaccines. This is despite the fact that in general, heart disease and stroke are not normally diseases of the young.
Last night, it struck me that there is a possible mechanism which would explain why we see these adverse events mrore frequently in the young - particularly in healthy, athletic young people. At first I thought this was due to younger and more athletic people having a higher rate of physical activity which could put strain on the heart, so they were tipped over into cardio events more often than people who are less physically active, after taking vaccines which are possibly doing a lot more unseen damage to the general population than we have to date observed.
Athletes (pro-soccer, NFL, etc) could be regarded as canaries in the coalmine, whose vaccine-induced cardiovascular damage shows up earlier and more acutely than in others with sedentary lifestyles, because pro-sports careers place high physical demand on the heart.
I still think this is likely to be true, but another additional reason for the adverse events in the young has occurred to me. I think it could be important but I'm not qualified to know for sure, nor to study the phenomenon. So I'm asking people to share this idea as widely as you can, so we can raise awareness of it. Maybe scientists are already looking at this, but I'm not convinced. Research funds don't necessarily flow to investigations of mechanisms which could negatively affect the bottom line of the pharma companies (which have the most financial resource available to them, and the most to gain from finding that mRNA vaccines are safe for all age groups).
Ok, so this is the mechanism I think could be causing adverse effects in younger people:
- When you are a child or adolescent you are actively growing. The building-blocks for this growth are proteins, encoded by DNA and transcribed using the various forms of RNA, including mRNA which are read by ribosomes to construct the proteins
- As you get older this process slows down, but only gradually. It is fast and efficient in children and young adults, slightly slower in middle-age, and significantly slower in old age.
- Everyone over the age of 15 - and regardless of body weight - is given the same dose of mRNA vaccine
- It is not known how individual differences (age, weight, sex, immune function, previous exposure to pathogens, etc) affect how much mRNA gets delivered across the cell membrane in the first place by the vaccine delivery mechanism (lipid nano-particles or viral vector)
- Once inside the cell, individuals are likely to produce proteins at a significantly different rate, even given the same amount of mRNA. Because of points 1 and 2 above, it is likely that younger people will produce more spike protein from a given amount of mRNA compared to older people, because in the latter, the mechanism for producing protein from mRNA will have naturally slowed down over the course of a long life time
- Although children under 15 get a reduced dose of the covid vaccines, people age 15 and up get the full adult dose. Adolescents and young adults have so far appeared to be the age groups where adverse events have occurred more frequently and have been more serious
- Athletes are likely to have extremely efficient protein building mechansim inside their cells, due to their honed metabolism, frequent high impact cardio exercise, and muscle-building exercise and diet (body builders may also be at increased risk, although they have relatively less high cardio impact exercise which is likely to be an additional risk factor)
- If more spike protein is produced in young bodies due to a faster, more efficient mRNA transcribing process, it seems plausible that more spike protein is more rapdily made available in these bodies. This can then do damage to the blood vessel endothelium, causing the cardiovascualar and thromobotic complications which have been observed mainly in the young.
I think this needs investigated urgently. Why the fuck is there basically a single standard dosage for adults anyway?Why aren't factors like body weight, sex, and age taken into account already?
It seems to me that we know next to nothing abut the dosage of these new mRNA products. We don't know how much of the mRNA is delivered into cells or what happens when it gets there. We don't know how much spike protein is produced for given quantities of mRNA. We know very little about how it is then distributed throughout the body, although information obtained by FOIA suggested it is more widely distributed than we were initially led to believe. We also don't know how these processes and amounts and distributions might vary, really quite significantly, in different individuals.
It makes sense that body weight, body fat and muscle makeup, sex, age, metabolism, immune function - all these things will have effects on the amount and distribution of spike protein which is produced given a standard vaccine dose.
But one thing we do know, biological AGE almost certainly has an effect. Different rates of adverse effects have been observed for different age groups.
As described above, there are mechanisms which we know from other areas of medicine are different between age groups, which could plausibly explain this observation. The amount of spike protein produced from the same vaccination dose could be significantly greater in younger bodies where there is more active growth and rapid, efficient protein assembly.
Are mRNA vaccines hijacking the vitality of young bodies to turn them into factories rapidly producing proteins which are toxic to them? That is looking scarily plausible and needs urgent investigation.
submitted bymitte90toconspiracy [link][comments]
2021.12.22 18:44 noodlesoverhardThe small house and needing to sleep. One of the most terrifying nightmares I've had in a long time.
So just a little backstory, am new to this sub, my partner just woke me up from this nightmare, and it was one of the most terrifying nightmares I have had to date. I have lots of nightmares, due to PTSD from childhood trauma and the military. I've tried various medications and none of them really work. The side effects just mess me up. I hope this could be cathartic in some way. Anyways, let me start by painting the scene as best as I can.
I was in an unfamiliar house with my partner, and for some reason it just felt off. I felt watched(?) I'm not really sure of the source of the anxiety, but it was there. It was night time, and we needed to sleep as one of our nieces was coming to visit the next day. It was smallish, kind of a pseudo-studio deal. The main bedroom was situated directly in the center of the house, three walls of the bedroom had these horizontal openings in the walls. You could see outside of the bedroom into the rest of the house. Starting from the left you can see the bathroom, the door was open and the light on. Moving to the right there was a window, it was pitch black outside. The window had some of those cheap vertical blinds you find in 90% of apartments, but it seemed some were missing. Then there was walkway leading into the living room, which was on the front side of the house. In the living room was a massive theater-sized television on the front wall, and a few chairs facing it. Continuing to the right was just an open area that led around to a glass door on the right side of the house, and the rest of the right wall was a few massive floor to ceiling windows. There was a set of 3-4 steps that led up to the bedroom, which had it's own door.
Ok, hopefully you have a picture of that now, it was a very vivid dream in case you couldn't tell. Now the dream itself:
So like I said, I felt very uneasy, anxious that we were being watched or something. It was a quiet night, with nothing but wind to be heard outside the house. I decided to help with my unease I would leave some lights on. I left the bathroom light on, turned to tv off, but left the living room light on. There was no light in the right walkway where the glass door and windows were, but light carried in there from the living room and the bedroom lighting, which I left the bedroom light on as well. Now for some reason, because dream, there were two beds in the main bedroom. One on the right side of the room, a smaller, I wanna say twin sized bed? But also near the rear of the bedroom, and filling most of the bedroom up, was a massive bed as well.
So I'm walking around the room, just double checking everything, while my partner had already fallen asleep in the smaller bed. I decided to just lay down and try to shake the feeling, as I needed sleep to prepare for the ball of energy a 4-year-old was going to bring tomorrow.
As I'm laying there in the bed with my lady, I feel more and more uneasy. That sort of feeling you get walking down a dark hall at 3 am to use the restroom and your mind decided that it wants to mess with you and tell you a ghost or monster or something is right there. That feeling. Though, being the rational adult I am I kept telling myself it's in my head, pulled the blanket over my head because the lights were bothering me (but refused to turn them off) and tried harder to sleep.
The wind started picking up outside as I was dozing off, and then I heard pounding. THUNK THUNK THUNK. It was from the window on the left. What the fuck?!
CRASH!! The sound of glass breaking came from the left side of the house. I'm now in full panic. No idea who or what could have just done that, my first reaction is to close the door to the bedroom, which was open for whatever reason. (Would never leave a bedroom door open irl, dreams are dumb) As I got up to go close the door, I head what I can only imagine to be loud and rapidly moving footsteps.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump
I felt like I was racing something to the door. I grabbed the handle and pulled it shut and heard a 'click' as the bronze-looking security latch set itself. Weird. I went to lock the knob as well but it started to turn in my hand. It was much stronger than I could fight, but the latch set itself so the door couldn't be opened from outside. This seemed to frustrate whateverthefuck was out there as the door was shaking violently and there was loud pounding.
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM
I am panicking. My lady is awake now, but surprisingly non-reactive. She just kind of climbed into the larger bed, and told me to go to sleep it'll be fine. While this is going on the house is shaking, but slowly, like a small earthquake. Then I heard the footsteps again, from the right to the left, then left to right. I couldn't see whatever was making the sound, and honestly I was too afraid to really try and see. I was also really taken aback by my lady's nonchalance, as she is a huge scaredy cat typically. I was starting to wonder if they were somehow working together? I didn't have time to dwell on that thought, as suddenly the lights dimmed and all went out.
It wasn't a sudden outage, like someone had cut the power. The lights dimmed themselves and went out. All the lights in the house, at the same time. At this point I am barely able to focus.
'Where'd I leave that damn flashlight?!'
I felt around behind the large bed, I knew there was a flashlight behind the microwave (what?)
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump more footsteps going back and forth while the house shook more. Whateverthefuck it was was trying to find a way in.
I found the flashlight, but it wouldn't turn on. I gave it a few whacks and it finally did.
I turn to my left (which would be the right side, near the bedroom door) and I saw a silhouette in the horizontal opening, it was stark white, just a head, but I didn't see a face and the head pulled back almost instantly. At this point my lady woke me up from the nightmare (real life) and asked if I was ok. My breathing gets really erratic and she's very used to this now. Thank goodness I have her. I haven't felt so completely terrified from a nightmare in a long time. Instead of going back to sleep I am writing this now. But that's it. I'm fkn tired but don't want to go back to sleep. Sigh.
This actually did help me feel better. I think I might share more of my past nightmares if people enjoy this. If you read through that wall of text, let me know what you think. Or something. I don't know.
submitted bynoodlesoverhardtoDreams [link][comments]I was in an unfamiliar house with my partner, and for some reason it just felt off. I felt watched(?) I'm not really sure of the source of the anxiety, but it was there. It was night time, and we needed to sleep as one of our nieces was coming to visit the next day. It was smallish, kind of a pseudo-studio deal. The main bedroom was situated directly in the center of the house, three walls of the bedroom had these horizontal openings in the walls. You could see outside of the bedroom into the rest of the house. Starting from the left you can see the bathroom, the door was open and the light on. Moving to the right there was a window, it was pitch black outside. The window had some of those cheap vertical blinds you find in 90% of apartments, but it seemed some were missing. Then there was walkway leading into the living room, which was on the front side of the house. In the living room was a massive theater-sized television on the front wall, and a few chairs facing it. Continuing to the right was just an open area that led around to a glass door on the right side of the house, and the rest of the right wall was a few massive floor to ceiling windows. There was a set of 3-4 steps that led up to the bedroom, which had it's own door.
Ok, hopefully you have a picture of that now, it was a very vivid dream in case you couldn't tell. Now the dream itself:
So like I said, I felt very uneasy, anxious that we were being watched or something. It was a quiet night, with nothing but wind to be heard outside the house. I decided to help with my unease I would leave some lights on. I left the bathroom light on, turned to tv off, but left the living room light on. There was no light in the right walkway where the glass door and windows were, but light carried in there from the living room and the bedroom lighting, which I left the bedroom light on as well. Now for some reason, because dream, there were two beds in the main bedroom. One on the right side of the room, a smaller, I wanna say twin sized bed? But also near the rear of the bedroom, and filling most of the bedroom up, was a massive bed as well.
So I'm walking around the room, just double checking everything, while my partner had already fallen asleep in the smaller bed. I decided to just lay down and try to shake the feeling, as I needed sleep to prepare for the ball of energy a 4-year-old was going to bring tomorrow.
As I'm laying there in the bed with my lady, I feel more and more uneasy. That sort of feeling you get walking down a dark hall at 3 am to use the restroom and your mind decided that it wants to mess with you and tell you a ghost or monster or something is right there. That feeling. Though, being the rational adult I am I kept telling myself it's in my head, pulled the blanket over my head because the lights were bothering me (but refused to turn them off) and tried harder to sleep.
The wind started picking up outside as I was dozing off, and then I heard pounding. THUNK THUNK THUNK. It was from the window on the left. What the fuck?!
CRASH!! The sound of glass breaking came from the left side of the house. I'm now in full panic. No idea who or what could have just done that, my first reaction is to close the door to the bedroom, which was open for whatever reason. (Would never leave a bedroom door open irl, dreams are dumb) As I got up to go close the door, I head what I can only imagine to be loud and rapidly moving footsteps.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump
I felt like I was racing something to the door. I grabbed the handle and pulled it shut and heard a 'click' as the bronze-looking security latch set itself. Weird. I went to lock the knob as well but it started to turn in my hand. It was much stronger than I could fight, but the latch set itself so the door couldn't be opened from outside. This seemed to frustrate whateverthefuck was out there as the door was shaking violently and there was loud pounding.
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM
I am panicking. My lady is awake now, but surprisingly non-reactive. She just kind of climbed into the larger bed, and told me to go to sleep it'll be fine. While this is going on the house is shaking, but slowly, like a small earthquake. Then I heard the footsteps again, from the right to the left, then left to right. I couldn't see whatever was making the sound, and honestly I was too afraid to really try and see. I was also really taken aback by my lady's nonchalance, as she is a huge scaredy cat typically. I was starting to wonder if they were somehow working together? I didn't have time to dwell on that thought, as suddenly the lights dimmed and all went out.
It wasn't a sudden outage, like someone had cut the power. The lights dimmed themselves and went out. All the lights in the house, at the same time. At this point I am barely able to focus.
'Where'd I leave that damn flashlight?!'
I felt around behind the large bed, I knew there was a flashlight behind the microwave (what?)
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump more footsteps going back and forth while the house shook more. Whateverthefuck it was was trying to find a way in.
I found the flashlight, but it wouldn't turn on. I gave it a few whacks and it finally did.
I turn to my left (which would be the right side, near the bedroom door) and I saw a silhouette in the horizontal opening, it was stark white, just a head, but I didn't see a face and the head pulled back almost instantly. At this point my lady woke me up from the nightmare (real life) and asked if I was ok. My breathing gets really erratic and she's very used to this now. Thank goodness I have her. I haven't felt so completely terrified from a nightmare in a long time. Instead of going back to sleep I am writing this now. But that's it. I'm fkn tired but don't want to go back to sleep. Sigh.
This actually did help me feel better. I think I might share more of my past nightmares if people enjoy this. If you read through that wall of text, let me know what you think. Or something. I don't know.
2021.12.22 18:33 noodlesoverhardTrying to sleep
So just a little backstory, am new to this sub, my partner just woke me up from this nightmare, and it was one of the most terrifying nightmares I have had to date. I have lots of nightmares, due to PTSD from childhood trauma and the military. I've tried various medications and none of them really work. The side effects just mess me up. I hope this could be cathartic in some way. Anyways, let me start by painting the scene as best as I can.
I was in an unfamiliar house with my partner, and for some reason it just felt off. I felt watched(?) I'm not really sure of the source of the anxiety, but it was there. It was night time, and we needed to sleep as one of our nieces was coming to visit the next day. It was smallish, kind of a pseudo-studio deal. The main bedroom was situated directly in the center of the house, three walls of the bedroom had these horizontal openings in the walls. You could see outside of the bedroom into the rest of the house. Starting from the left you can see the bathroom, the door was open and the light on. Moving to the right there was a window, it was pitch black outside. The window had some of those cheap vertical blinds you find in 90% of apartments, but it seemed some were missing. Then there was walkway leading into the living room, which was on the front side of the house. In the living room was a massive theater-sized television on the front wall, and a few chairs facing it. Continuing to the right was just an open area that led around to a glass door on the right side of the house, and the rest of the right wall was a few massive floor to ceiling windows. There was a set of 3-4 steps that led up to the bedroom, which had it's own door.
Ok, hopefully you have a picture of that now, it was a very vivid dream in case you couldn't tell. Now the dream itself:
So like I said, I felt very uneasy, anxious that we were being watched or something. It was a quiet night, with nothing but wind to be heard outside the house. I decided to help with my unease I would leave some lights on. I left the bathroom light on, turned to tv off, but left the living room light on. There was no light in the right walkway where the glass door and windows were, but light carried in there from the living room and the bedroom lighting, which I left the bedroom light on as well. Now for some reason, because dream, there were two beds in the main bedroom. One on the right side of the room, a smaller, I wanna say twin sized bed? But also near the rear of the bedroom, and filling most of the bedroom up, was a massive bed as well.
So I'm walking around the room, just double checking everything, while my partner had already fallen asleep in the smaller bed. I decided to just lay down and try to shake the feeling, as I needed sleep to prepare for the ball of energy a 4-year-old was going to bring tomorrow.
As I'm laying there in the bed with my lady, I feel more and more uneasy. That sort of feeling you get walking down a dark hall at 3 am to use the restroom and your mind decided that it wants to mess with you and tell you a ghost or monster or something is right there. That feeling. Though, being the rational adult I am I kept telling myself it's in my head, pulled the blanket over my head because the lights were bothering me (but refused to turn them off) and tried harder to sleep.
The wind started picking up outside as I was dozing off, and then I heard pounding. THUNK THUNK THUNK. It was from the window on the left. What the fuck?!
CRASH!! The sound of glass breaking came from the left side of the house. I'm now in full panic. No idea who or what could have just done that, my first reaction is to close the door to the bedroom, which was open for whatever reason. (Would never leave a bedroom door open irl, dreams are dumb) As I got up to go close the door, I head what I can only imagine to be loud and rapidly moving footsteps.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump
I felt like I was racing something to the door. I grabbed the handle and pulled it shut and heard a 'click' as the bronze-looking security latch set itself. Weird. I went to lock the knob as well but it started to turn in my hand. It was much stronger than I could fight, but the latch set itself so the door couldn't be opened from outside. This seemed to frustrate whateverthefuck was out there as the door was shaking violently and there was loud pounding.
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM
I am panicking. My lady is awake now, but surprisingly non-reactive. She just kind of climbed into the larger bed, and told me to go to sleep it'll be fine. While this is going on the house is shaking, but slowly, like a small earthquake. Then I heard the footsteps again, from the right to the left, then left to right. I couldn't see whatever was making the sound, and honestly I was too afraid to really try and see. I was also really taken aback by my lady's nonchalance, as she is a huge scaredy cat typically. I was starting to wonder if they were somehow working together? I didn't have time to dwell on that thought, as suddenly the lights dimmed and all went out.
It wasn't a sudden outage, like someone had cut the power. The lights dimmed themselves and went out. All the lights in the house, at the same time. At this point I am barely able to focus.
'Where'd I leave that damn flashlight?!'
I felt around behind the large bed, I knew there was a flashlight behind the microwave (what?)
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump more footsteps going back and forth while the house shook more. Whateverthefuck it was was trying to find a way in.
I found the flashlight, but it wouldn't turn on. I gave it a few whacks and it finally did.
I turn to my left (which would be the right side, near the bedroom door) and I saw a silhouette in the horizontal opening, it was stark white, just a head, but I didn't see a face and the head pulled back almost instantly. At this point my lady woke me up from the nightmare (real life) and asked if I was ok. My breathing gets really erratic and she's very used to this now. Thank goodness I have her. I haven't felt so completely terrified from a nightmare in a long time. Instead of going back to sleep I am writing this now. But that's it. I'm fkn tired but don't want to go back to sleep. Sigh.
submitted bynoodlesoverhardtoNightmares [link][comments]I was in an unfamiliar house with my partner, and for some reason it just felt off. I felt watched(?) I'm not really sure of the source of the anxiety, but it was there. It was night time, and we needed to sleep as one of our nieces was coming to visit the next day. It was smallish, kind of a pseudo-studio deal. The main bedroom was situated directly in the center of the house, three walls of the bedroom had these horizontal openings in the walls. You could see outside of the bedroom into the rest of the house. Starting from the left you can see the bathroom, the door was open and the light on. Moving to the right there was a window, it was pitch black outside. The window had some of those cheap vertical blinds you find in 90% of apartments, but it seemed some were missing. Then there was walkway leading into the living room, which was on the front side of the house. In the living room was a massive theater-sized television on the front wall, and a few chairs facing it. Continuing to the right was just an open area that led around to a glass door on the right side of the house, and the rest of the right wall was a few massive floor to ceiling windows. There was a set of 3-4 steps that led up to the bedroom, which had it's own door.
Ok, hopefully you have a picture of that now, it was a very vivid dream in case you couldn't tell. Now the dream itself:
So like I said, I felt very uneasy, anxious that we were being watched or something. It was a quiet night, with nothing but wind to be heard outside the house. I decided to help with my unease I would leave some lights on. I left the bathroom light on, turned to tv off, but left the living room light on. There was no light in the right walkway where the glass door and windows were, but light carried in there from the living room and the bedroom lighting, which I left the bedroom light on as well. Now for some reason, because dream, there were two beds in the main bedroom. One on the right side of the room, a smaller, I wanna say twin sized bed? But also near the rear of the bedroom, and filling most of the bedroom up, was a massive bed as well.
So I'm walking around the room, just double checking everything, while my partner had already fallen asleep in the smaller bed. I decided to just lay down and try to shake the feeling, as I needed sleep to prepare for the ball of energy a 4-year-old was going to bring tomorrow.
As I'm laying there in the bed with my lady, I feel more and more uneasy. That sort of feeling you get walking down a dark hall at 3 am to use the restroom and your mind decided that it wants to mess with you and tell you a ghost or monster or something is right there. That feeling. Though, being the rational adult I am I kept telling myself it's in my head, pulled the blanket over my head because the lights were bothering me (but refused to turn them off) and tried harder to sleep.
The wind started picking up outside as I was dozing off, and then I heard pounding. THUNK THUNK THUNK. It was from the window on the left. What the fuck?!
CRASH!! The sound of glass breaking came from the left side of the house. I'm now in full panic. No idea who or what could have just done that, my first reaction is to close the door to the bedroom, which was open for whatever reason. (Would never leave a bedroom door open irl, dreams are dumb) As I got up to go close the door, I head what I can only imagine to be loud and rapidly moving footsteps.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump
I felt like I was racing something to the door. I grabbed the handle and pulled it shut and heard a 'click' as the bronze-looking security latch set itself. Weird. I went to lock the knob as well but it started to turn in my hand. It was much stronger than I could fight, but the latch set itself so the door couldn't be opened from outside. This seemed to frustrate whateverthefuck was out there as the door was shaking violently and there was loud pounding.
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM
I am panicking. My lady is awake now, but surprisingly non-reactive. She just kind of climbed into the larger bed, and told me to go to sleep it'll be fine. While this is going on the house is shaking, but slowly, like a small earthquake. Then I heard the footsteps again, from the right to the left, then left to right. I couldn't see whatever was making the sound, and honestly I was too afraid to really try and see. I was also really taken aback by my lady's nonchalance, as she is a huge scaredy cat typically. I was starting to wonder if they were somehow working together? I didn't have time to dwell on that thought, as suddenly the lights dimmed and all went out.
It wasn't a sudden outage, like someone had cut the power. The lights dimmed themselves and went out. All the lights in the house, at the same time. At this point I am barely able to focus.
'Where'd I leave that damn flashlight?!'
I felt around behind the large bed, I knew there was a flashlight behind the microwave (what?)
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump more footsteps going back and forth while the house shook more. Whateverthefuck it was was trying to find a way in.
I found the flashlight, but it wouldn't turn on. I gave it a few whacks and it finally did.
I turn to my left (which would be the right side, near the bedroom door) and I saw a silhouette in the horizontal opening, it was stark white, just a head, but I didn't see a face and the head pulled back almost instantly. At this point my lady woke me up from the nightmare (real life) and asked if I was ok. My breathing gets really erratic and she's very used to this now. Thank goodness I have her. I haven't felt so completely terrified from a nightmare in a long time. Instead of going back to sleep I am writing this now. But that's it. I'm fkn tired but don't want to go back to sleep. Sigh.
2021.12.22 14:51 gxxzzthesecondMy fiancé found out last night that his estranged father is dying. What do I say to him?
My fiancé (24M) and I (27F) met working together in 2015. He came into work one day and was so obviously not okay - pale in the face, bloodshot eyes, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week - so I asked if he was okay and if he needed to talk. He said yes, actually someone to talk to would be great. So we took ourselves off of the sales floor and let our supervisor know what was going on, and we went and talked. He told me all about how he’d just found out his father was abusive towards his sisters, and it had really shattered him. He hasn’t had anything to do with his father since finding this out. We started dating in mid-2020, and we’ve had conversations about how that was a pivotal moment in his life, because up until he found this all out he had 19 years of his father being his hero. I’ve never met his father for obvious reasons, but from what he tells me they’re very much alike - they have a lot of the same interests, people have confused the two of them in pictures, etc - and he really tries to divorce himself from all of that. For example, I haven’t heard him refer to the man as his dad since that first conversation when he found everything out. He uses a much more stiff and formal “my father.” He doesn’t speak to that side of his family at all anymore.
Last night he got the call that his father is dying of Covid. He’s been comatose and unresponsive for weeks with no improvement, and they’re taking him off the vent today. After the call he seemed okay, albeit a bit quieter and more subdued than normal. But he’s in shock, and he really has no idea how he’s going to feel once that wears off. He hates his father for what he’s done and does everything he can to distance himself from the man, but he was an adult before he found this out. His father was great to him for a long time. It’s such a complicated and delicate situation and I just don’t know what to say because I can’t imagine how this would feel to me if I were in his shoes. What do I do?? At this point I’m just being extra gentle and assuring him that whatever he feels is valid and okay and that I’m here for whatever he needs me for but I’m sure this is going to affect him far more than he’s showing right now.
submitted bygxxzzthesecondtorelationship_advice [link][comments]Last night he got the call that his father is dying of Covid. He’s been comatose and unresponsive for weeks with no improvement, and they’re taking him off the vent today. After the call he seemed okay, albeit a bit quieter and more subdued than normal. But he’s in shock, and he really has no idea how he’s going to feel once that wears off. He hates his father for what he’s done and does everything he can to distance himself from the man, but he was an adult before he found this out. His father was great to him for a long time. It’s such a complicated and delicate situation and I just don’t know what to say because I can’t imagine how this would feel to me if I were in his shoes. What do I do?? At this point I’m just being extra gentle and assuring him that whatever he feels is valid and okay and that I’m here for whatever he needs me for but I’m sure this is going to affect him far more than he’s showing right now.
2021.12.22 13:40 mitte90Children and young adults make proteins more efficiently than the old- implications for mRNA adverse events appearing in the young - PLEASE SHARE
Due to multiple factors, older age groups are at higher risk of cancer than younger ones (these factors include: immune senescence, slower rate of repair, more time for exposure to carcinogenic environmental conditions and for cancer-causing mutations to accumulate and replicate within the body). On the other hand, it is known that cancers often progress more slowly in the elderly than in the young because there is less turnover of new cell growth and protein production in elderly bodies.' Cancer of the elderly exhibits slower growth because their body already has a slower rate of cell development than those of young ones ' - https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5763438/
'The one positive thing about cancer and aging is that cancer cells proliferate less quickly in an older patient, so senior cancer tends to progress at a much slower rate than cancer in younger people ' - http://www.age-well.org/cancer-and-aging.html
This post is not about cancer, but I'm mentioning it as an example to illustrate that we know that there is a higher rate of cell turnover and growth in the young compared to the old.
I think what this could mean in terms of the relative risks of mRNA vaccines to different age groups has been largely overlooked and we need to get this out there as a matter of urgency to raise awareness of the danger that it represents to the young.
We already know that there are very different risk-benefit profiles for the elderly compared to younger people with the covid vaccines. Elderly people are at far greater risk of severe covid or covid death compared to the young, while the young have tended to be more affected by myocarditis, thrombocytopenia, stroke and other serious and potentially serious adverse effects of the mRNA vaccines. This is despite the fact that in general, heart disease and stroke are not normally diseases of the young.
Last night, it struck me that there is a possible mechanism which would explain why we see these adverse events mrore frequently in the young - particularly in healthy, athletic young people. At first I thought this was due to younger and more athletic people having a higher rate of physical activity which could put strain on the heart, so they were tipped over into cardio events more often than people who are less physically active, after taking vaccines which are possibly doing a lot more unseen damage to the general population than we have to date observed.
Athletes (pro-soccer, NFL, etc) could be regarded as canaries in the coalmine, whose vaccine-induced cardiovascular damage shows up earlier and more acutely than in others with sedentary lifestyles, because pro-sports careers place high physical demand on the heart.
I still think this is likely to be true, but another additional reason for the adverse events in the young has occurred to me. I think it could be important but I'm not qualified to know for sure, nor to study the phenomenon. So I'm asking people to share this idea as widely as you can, so we can raise awareness of it. Maybe scientists are already looking at this, but I'm not convinced. Research funds don't necessarily flow to investigations of mechanisms which could negatively affect the bottom line of the pharma companies (which have the most financial resource available to them, and the most to gain from finding that mRNA vaccines are safe for all age groups).
Ok, so this is the mechanism I think could be causing adverse effects in younger people:
- When you are a child or adolescent you are actively growing. The building-blocks for this growth are proteins, encoded by DNA and transcribed using the various forms of RNA, including mRNA which are read by ribosomes to construct the proteins
- As you get older this process slows down, but only gradually. It is fast and efficient in children and young adults, slightly slower in middle-age, and significantly slower in old age.
- Everyone over the age of 15 - and regardless of body weight - is given the same dose of mRNA vaccine
- It is not known how individual differences (age, weight, sex, immune function, previous exposure to pathogens, etc) affect how much mRNA gets delivered across the cell membrane in the first place by the vaccine delivery mechanism (lipid nano-particles or viral vector)
- Once inside the cell, individuals are likely to produce proteins at a significantly different rate, even given the same amount of mRNA. Because of points 1 and 2 above, it is likely that younger people will produce more spike protein from a given amount of mRNA compared to older people, because in the latter, the mechanism for producing protein from mRNA will have naturally slowed down over the course of a long life time
- Although children under 15 get a reduced dose of the covid vaccines, people age 15 and up get the full adult dose. Adolescents and young adults have so far appeared to be the age groups where adverse events have occurred more frequently and have been more serious
- Athletes are likely to have extremely efficient protein building mechansim inside their cells, due to their honed metabolism, frequent high impact cardio exercise, and muscle-building exercise and diet (body builders may also be at increased risk, although they have relatively less high cardio impact exercise which is likely to be an additional risk factor)
- If more spike protein is produced in young bodies due to a faster, more efficient mRNA transcribing process, it seems plausible that more spike protein is more rapdily made available in these bodies. This can then do damage to the blood vessel endothelium, causing the cardiovascualar and thromobotic complications which have been observed mainly in the young.
I think this needs investigated urgently. Why the fuck is there basically a single standard dosage for adults anyway?Why aren't factors like body weight, sex, and age taken into account already?
It seems to me that we know next to nothing abut the dosage of these new mRNA products. We don't know how much of the mRNA is delivered into cells or what happens when it gets there. We don't know how much spike protein is produced for given quantities of mRNA. We know very little about how it is then distributed throughout the body, although information obtained by FOIA suggested it is more widely distributed than we were initially led to believe. We also don't know how these processes and amounts and distributions might vary, really quite significantly, in different individuals.
It makes sense that body weight, body fat and muscle makeup, sex, age, metabolism, immune function - all these things will have effects on the amount and distribution of spike protein which is produced given a standard vaccine dose.
But one thing we do know, biological AGE almost certainly has an effect. Different rates of adverse effects have been observed for different age groups.
As described above, there are mechanisms which we know from other areas of medicine are different between age groups, which could plausibly explain this observation. The amount of spike protein produced from the same vaccination dose could be significantly greater in younger bodies where there is more active growth and rapid, efficient protein assembly.
Are mRNA vaccines hijacking the vitality of young bodies to turn them into factories rapidly producing proteins which are toxic to them? That is looking scarily plausible and needs urgent investigation.
submitted bymitte90toCoronavirusCirclejerk [link][comments]
2021.12.22 10:15 MrAB3December 22 is the 10 Year Anniversary...
of the first time I (M 27) ever watched a pornographic video.
I was 17 and a high school senior when I fell into the rabbit hole the first night of my winter break 10 years ago today. I loved the experience of PMO so much that I started watching pornographic videos every night before bed until my last semester of college. I had no idea that I was addicted until March 2015 when I learned about the effects of porn on the brain and body. I also did research about the porn industry. After doing my research, I made my first efforts to quit PMO.
I stopped watching traditional porn in 2015 after doing all my research. However, I continued to PMO through 'softcore' YouTube videos and I was doing so between 2 and 4 times per week instead of every day. I used YouTube to get me through my quarter life crisis in the late 2010s. I was in my early to mid 20s at the time.
But I decided to change my life on the first day of 2020 after going through my quarter life crisis and wanting no more of it. My family was my initial motivation to change. I went on multiple long nofap streaks, started working out, and started eating a little bit better. I felt so much better in all aspects of my life. My confidence and libido were back to the way they were before I started watching traditional porn. However, I was still watching YouTube without MO-ing.
I continued to care for myself in 2021. But I also created a Hinge account so I can meet women online. As a result, I was watching less YouTube and going on Hinge a lot more to chat with women. I also started dating for the first time in my adult life. I'm proud of myself because I realized some serious milestones that I only dreamed of before this year. I had my first date as an adult, my first kiss, my first make out session, to name a few. I can't be ashamed of myself for hitting these milestones in my late 20s. That's because I'm learning to accept that my journey is different from most people's. Comparing myself to others is one of the worst things I can do.
I also learned a lot about myself - what I'm capable of, what I'm not capable of, what my love languages are, and how to act in unfamiliar romantic and social situations. I also learned how to face my fears. At one time, kissing a girl on the lips was one of the scariest tasks you can ask me to do. But I learned how to act when I have butterflies in my stomach around a girl. Being brave in times of fear resulted in some of the best experiences of my life - some that I will never forget.
I also created my Reddit account, found this sub, and gained a plethora of support here. Thanks to this sub, I recently quit watching softcore YouTube videos when I have an urge. I also eschewed the toxic red pill rhetoric of nofap in favor of the balanced rhetoric of being porn free. But still pictures of fully clothed women are my new Achilles Heel; I have to get over this 'old school' medium too if I want to be porn free.
I'm confident that I'm going to keep building on the foundation that I created over the last two years. I want to realize even more personal and romantic milestones and learn more about myself. Most of all, I hope to finally become free of the shackles of porn cast upon me 10 years ago today!
I apologize for the long post, but I felt the need to tell my story on this personal day of note.
submitted byMrAB3topornfree [link][comments]I was 17 and a high school senior when I fell into the rabbit hole the first night of my winter break 10 years ago today. I loved the experience of PMO so much that I started watching pornographic videos every night before bed until my last semester of college. I had no idea that I was addicted until March 2015 when I learned about the effects of porn on the brain and body. I also did research about the porn industry. After doing my research, I made my first efforts to quit PMO.
I stopped watching traditional porn in 2015 after doing all my research. However, I continued to PMO through 'softcore' YouTube videos and I was doing so between 2 and 4 times per week instead of every day. I used YouTube to get me through my quarter life crisis in the late 2010s. I was in my early to mid 20s at the time.
But I decided to change my life on the first day of 2020 after going through my quarter life crisis and wanting no more of it. My family was my initial motivation to change. I went on multiple long nofap streaks, started working out, and started eating a little bit better. I felt so much better in all aspects of my life. My confidence and libido were back to the way they were before I started watching traditional porn. However, I was still watching YouTube without MO-ing.
I continued to care for myself in 2021. But I also created a Hinge account so I can meet women online. As a result, I was watching less YouTube and going on Hinge a lot more to chat with women. I also started dating for the first time in my adult life. I'm proud of myself because I realized some serious milestones that I only dreamed of before this year. I had my first date as an adult, my first kiss, my first make out session, to name a few. I can't be ashamed of myself for hitting these milestones in my late 20s. That's because I'm learning to accept that my journey is different from most people's. Comparing myself to others is one of the worst things I can do.
I also learned a lot about myself - what I'm capable of, what I'm not capable of, what my love languages are, and how to act in unfamiliar romantic and social situations. I also learned how to face my fears. At one time, kissing a girl on the lips was one of the scariest tasks you can ask me to do. But I learned how to act when I have butterflies in my stomach around a girl. Being brave in times of fear resulted in some of the best experiences of my life - some that I will never forget.
I also created my Reddit account, found this sub, and gained a plethora of support here. Thanks to this sub, I recently quit watching softcore YouTube videos when I have an urge. I also eschewed the toxic red pill rhetoric of nofap in favor of the balanced rhetoric of being porn free. But still pictures of fully clothed women are my new Achilles Heel; I have to get over this 'old school' medium too if I want to be porn free.
I'm confident that I'm going to keep building on the foundation that I created over the last two years. I want to realize even more personal and romantic milestones and learn more about myself. Most of all, I hope to finally become free of the shackles of porn cast upon me 10 years ago today!
I apologize for the long post, but I felt the need to tell my story on this personal day of note.
2021.12.22 07:08 CosmicStarDusts23 [M4F] New Jersey/Online [Friendship] [Relationship] - Nerdy dude looking to chat
Adult Male looking for Adult Female
I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
submitted byCosmicStarDuststoMeetPeople [link][comments]I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
2021.12.22 07:07 CosmicStarDusts[23/M] [M4F] New Jersey/Online - Nerdy dude looking for friends and/or a relationship
Adult Male looking for Adult Female
I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
submitted byCosmicStarDuststoMeetNewPeopleHere [link][comments]I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
2021.12.22 07:05 CosmicStarDusts23 [M4F] New Jersey/Online - Nerdy dude looking for friends and/or a relationship
Adult Male looking for Adult Female
I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
submitted byCosmicStarDuststoKikpals [link][comments]I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
2021.12.22 07:04 CosmicStarDusts23 [M4F] New Jersey/Online - Looking for friends and/or a relationship
Adult Male looking for Adult Female
I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
submitted byCosmicStarDuststor4r [link][comments]I saw Spider-Man Thursday night and I'm STILL nerding out over it, what an AMAZING movie
If anyone wants to face me in the new mario party challenge accepted 🌞
I bet you can't beat me in uno 😤 I'll +4 you so fast, so you might as well be my +1 :) (I KNOW IT'S CORNY but 😂)
Hey there, I'm looking for friends with similar interests as well as a romantic partner!
Dating Wise: Nothing long distance please! Aside from NJ, NY and PA are possibly okay, as long as we can meet easily!
I've always wanted to try a bowling, mini golf, or arcade date! I love movie theaters so that works great too, and a bookstore date would also be dope!! Any other ideas are also welcome :)
Relationship wise I'm looking for someone who has similar interests, who loves to vibe together (especially putting each other on to music 😩) and basically enjoy each other's company :) Let's game and go places together! 😊
I would like to exchange selfies at some point and in the event we're not each other's type that is perfectly fine!
About Me
• Personality wise I'd say I'm pretty introverted and a bit shy, but after some time I open up more and I can be really talkative/excited about certain things, especially when it comes to nerdy stuff!
• I went back to school pursuing another degree, this time in Computer Science (I would love to speak to any programmers or other computer science related people!)
• I play video games (I have a switch and a Ps5 and got a gaming laptop), I love board games/card games! I also have interests in reading, hiking, movie theaters, museums, anime, Marvel/DC, etc.
Some of my favorite music artists: Tame Impala, Thundercat, Blood Orange, Steve Lacy, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Her's, Frank Ocean, Bad Bunny, Tyler The Creator, Isaiah Rashad, Freddie Gibbs, Denzel Curry, Fleetwood Mac, Whitney Houston, etc.
I bounce around genres depending on how I feel :) I really like 70's-90's music and older too!
Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor and a little about you so I know you read this far and have a great day/night!
2021.12.22 03:16 kirantCovid-19 Update for December 21: 786 new cases (10.79% tests positive), 391 recoveries, 2 deaths + Expansion of Booster Doses + Targeted Restrictions + Additional Rapid Test Kits Available + Shift in Contact Tracing
Data is taken from the Covid-19 portal and today's media availability with Premier Jason Kenney, Minister of Health Jason Copping, and Dr Deena Hinshaw. Dr Hinshaw's next availability will likely be next week.RESTRICTIONS
- Multiple restrictions are currently in effect. A summary is given on this page
- You can get proof of your vaccination here. Alberta's general vaccination proof has shifted to only QR code documentation (Military and First Nations records still qualify as acceptable)
Date Eligibility Criteria Active 2 doses at least 2 weeks before . Documentation of exemption . Paid negative PCR or Rapid Test from last 72 hours
| Dose | Recommendation Booking Time |
|---|---|
| 1st | All 5+ are eligible |
| 2nd | 8 weeks after first shot |
| 3rd | - |
| - 18+ | 5 months after 2nd |
| - Immunocompromised | 8 weeks after 2nd |
| - Travel necessary dose | 4+ weeks after 2nd |
| Date | Testing Availability |
|---|---|
| Current | Recommended for symptomatic cases |
| While supplies last | Free rapid test kits |
- For values where 'Current' and 'Total' are the same, I have left results under Total
| Value | Current | Change | Total |
|---|---|---|---|
| Total cases | — | +7861 | 343,734 |
| - Variant cases2 | — | +7833 | 115,655 |
| Active cases | 6,045 | +393 | — |
| - Active variant cases | 4,318 (71.4% of active) | +425 (+2.6%) | — |
| - Cases with 'Unknown source' | 3,776 (62.5% of active) | +239 (-0.1%) | — |
| Tests | — | +7,286 (~10.79% positive) | 6,300,863 |
| People tested | — | +1,481 | 2,622,710 (~586,652/million) |
| Hospitalizations | 329 | +5/+1 based on yesterday's post/portal data | 15,431 (+21) |
| ICU (Capacity: 228 (+0), Baseline: 173) | 69 | +0 | 2,990 (+8) |
| Deaths | — | +2 | 3,294 |
| Recoveries | — | +391 | 334,395 |
| Albertans with 1+ vaccinations | — | +4,578 | 3,477,929 (~83.8% of eligible) |
| Albertans fully vaccinated | — | +2,099 | 3,207,432 (~77.2% of eligible) |
| Albertans with additional vaccinations | — | +26,157 | 675,714 |
| Eligible Albertans not vaccinated | — | -4,578 | 674,319 (~16.2% of eligible) |
| Albertans ineligible for vaccination | — | +0 | 267,791 |
- 32 cases were removed today (normal range is 5-20)
3 Includes cases from previous days
2. CASES BY VACCINATION STATUS
- Division of hospitalizations by age and vaccination status for the past 120 days can be found at this link
| Metric | Total | Fully Vaccinated | Partially Vaccinated | Not Vaccinated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| % of Population | 100% | 72.6% | 6.1% | 21.3% |
| New Cases1 | +818 | +609 | +7 | +2022 |
| % of Cases | 100% | 74.5% | 0.9% | 24.7% |
| Per 100k in Group | +18.5 | +19.0 | +2.6 | +21.4 |
| Active Cases | 6,045 (+393) | 3,881 (+429) | 98 (+1) | 2,066 (-37) |
| % of Cases | 100% | 64.2% (+3.1%) | 1.6% (-0.1%) | 34.2% (-3.0%) |
| Per 100k in Group | 136.8 (+8.9) | 121.0 (+13.3) | 36.2 (+0.0) | 219.3 (-2.8) |
| Currently Hospitalized | 329 (+5) | 116 (+4) | 12 (+0) | 201 (+1) |
| % of Hospitalized | 100% | 35.3% (+0.7%) | 3.7% (-0.1%) | 61.1% (-0.6%) |
| Per 100k in Group | 7.4 (+0.1) | 3.6 (+0.1) | 4.4 (-0.0) | 21.3 (+0.2) |
| In ICU | 69 (+0) | 11 (-1) | 1 (+0) | 57 (+1) |
| % of ICU cases | 100% | 15.9% (-1.4%) | 1.4% (+0.0%) | 82.6% (+1.4%) |
| Per 100k in Group | 1.56 (+0.00) | 0.34 (-0.03) | 0.37 (-0.00) | 6.05 (+0.13) |
2 - 31 cases were in Albertans <5 (not eligible for vaccination)
3. AGE DISTRIBUTION
Active and Total Cases
| Age Bracket | Active Cases | New Cases | Total |
|---|---|---|---|
| <1 | 33 (+2) | +4 | 2,098 |
| 1-4 | 238 (+12) | +27 | 13,463 |
| 5-9 | 551 (-20) | +49 | 22,332 |
| 10-19 | 724 (+30) | +90 | 47,542 |
| 20-29 | 919 (+112) | +144 | 59,926 |
| 30-39 | 1,181 (+99) | +175 | 65,774 |
| 40-49 | 1,032 (+61) | +129 | 52,942 |
| 50-59 | 678 (+57) | +90 | 37,537 |
| 60-69 | 459 (+34) | +56 | 22,809 |
| 70-79 | 154 (+6) | +15 | 10,193 |
| 80+ | 76 (+0) | +7 | 8,822 |
| Unknown | 0 (+0) | +0 | 296 |
| Age Bracket | New Recoveries | Total Recoveries | New Deaths | Total Deaths |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| <1 | +2 | 2,065 | +0 | 0 |
| 1-4 | +15 | 13,224 | +0 | 1 |
| 5-9 | +69 | 21,781 | +0 | 0 |
| 10-19 | +60 | 46,817 | +0 | 1 |
| 20-29 | +32 | 58,991 | +0 | 16 |
| 30-39 | +76 | 64,559 | +0 | 34 |
| 40-49 | +68 | 51,829 | +0 | 81 |
| 50-59 | +33 | 36,650 | +0 | 209 |
| 60-69 | +22 | 21,898 | +0 | 452 |
| 70-79 | +7 | 9,277 | +2 | 762 |
| 80+ | +7 | 7,011 | +0 | 1,735 |
| Unknown | +0 | 293 | +0 | 3 |
| Age Bracket | New Hospitalizations | Ever Hospitalized | New ICU | Ever in ICU |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| <1 | +0 | 101 | +0 | 22 |
| 1-4 | +0 | 88 | +0 | 14 |
| 5-9 | +0 | 47 | +0 | 14 |
| 10-19 | +0 | 244 | +0 | 34 |
| 20-29 | +1 | 870 | +0 | 119 |
| 30-39 | +2 | 1,585 | +0 | 252 |
| 40-49 | +5 | 1,872 | +3 | 414 |
| 50-59 | +4 | 2,594 | +2 | 686 |
| 60-69 | +4 | 2,779 | +0 | 786 |
| 70-79 | +3 | 2,529 | +3 | 520 |
| 80+ | +2 | 2,717 | +0 | 127 |
| Unknown | +0 | 5 | +0 | 2 |
Summary of Vaccinations
| Value | Change | Total |
|---|---|---|
| Doses delivered | +32,825 | 7,356,384 (~1,664,326/million) |
| Albertans with 1+ doses | +4,578 | 3,477,929 (~786,855/million) |
| Albertans fully vaccinated | +2,099 | 3,207,432 (~725,657/million) |
| Albertans with additional doses | +26,157 | 675,714 (~152,875/million) |
| Albertans not vaccinated (eligible) | -4,578 | 674,319 (~152,560/million) |
| Albertans not eligible for vaccine | +0 | 267,791 (~60,586/million) |
- Vaccinations by age can found at this link
- A version of this chart with the age column repeated can be found here if needed.
- Geospatial data on vaccinations can be found at this link
Reported Variants of Concern/Interest
- Not all positive tests from May 1 - June 1 and Sept 9 - Nov 23 were screened
- Based on a lack of current cases, Alpha (B.1.1.7), Beta (B.1.351), and Gamma (P.1) are not being shown on this table
| Zone | Delta (B.1.617) Cases | Total | Kappa (B.1.617.1) Cases | Total | Omicron (B.1.1.529) Cases | Total |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Total | +219 | 66,681 | +0 | 19 | +564 | 1,609 |
| Calgary | +103 | 15,698 | +0 | 6 | +359 | 972 |
| Edmonton | +73 | 22,599 | +0 | 13 | +180 | 547 |
| Central | +8 | 8,331 | +0 | 0 | +9 | 29 |
| South | +12 | 6,080 | +0 | 0 | +9 | 19 |
| North | +24 | 13,971 | +0 | 0 | +7 | 42 |
| Unknown | -1 | 2 | +0 | 0 | +0 | 0 |
- The value is updated by Alberta Health on Mondays
- Last update: December 13
- Next potential update: December 27
| Zone | R Value (Confidence interval) | Change since November 29 |
|---|---|---|
| Province-wide | 0.96 (0.92-1.01) | +0.08 |
| Edmonton | 0.99 (0.92-1.07) | +0.04 |
| Calgary | 0.96 (0.90-1.03) | +0.06 |
| Rest of Province | 0.93 (0.86-1.01) | +0.13 |
| Zone | Active Cases | People Tested | Total | New Cases | Total | New Deaths | Total |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Calgary | 3,222 (+298) | +542 | 1,038,945 | +461 | 127,880 | +1 | 857 |
| Central | 464 (-28) | +108 | 238,096 | +22 | 38,860 | +0 | 412 |
| Edmonton | 1,740 (+110) | +507 | 825,563 | +233 | 106,413 | +1 | 1,329 |
| North | 390 (+10) | +146 | 253,258 | +50 | 46,986 | +0 | 406 |
| South | 215 (+3) | +101 | 166,483 | +20 | 23,548 | +0 | 290 |
| Unknown | 14 (+0) | +77 | 100,365 | +0 | 47 | +0 | 0 |
| City/Municipality | Total | Active | Recovered | Deaths |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Calgary | 102,135 (+393) | 2,605 (+288) | 98,802 (+105) | 728 (+0) |
| Edmonton | 79,178 (+174) | 1,132 (+129) | 76,996 (+45) | 1,050 (+0) |
| Red Deer | 9,557 (+8) | 100 (+5) | 9,373 (+3) | 84 (+0) |
| Fort McMurray | 8,259 (+3) | 49 (+3) | 8,192 (+0) | 18 (+0) |
| Lethbridge | 7,321 (+10) | 90 (+6) | 7,169 (+4) | 62 (+0) |
| Grande Prairie | 7,023 (+3) | 43 (-2) | 6,925 (+5) | 55 (+0) |
| Medicine Hat | 4,638 (+4) | 39 (+2) | 4,521 (+2) | 78 (+0) |
| Mackenzie County | 3,335 (+0) | 11 (-3) | 3,271 (+3) | 53 (+0) |
| Brooks | 2,108 (+1) | 5 (-1) | 2,079 (+2) | 24 (+0) |
| Cardston County | 1,876 (+1) | 9 (+0) | 1,827 (+1) | 40 (+0) |
| High River | 1,415 (+0) | 28 (-3) | 1,377 (+3) | 10 (+0) |
| I.D. No 9 (Banff) | 1,150 (+2) | 15 (+2) | 1,134 (+0) | 1 (+0) |
| Warner County | 799 (+0) | 5 (+0) | 790 (+0) | 4 (+0) |
| Wood Buffalo | 486 (+0) | 1 (-1) | 483 (+1) | 2 (+0) |
| Wheatland County | 409 (+1) | 5 (+1) | 403 (+0) | 1 (+0) |
| Rest of Alberta | 114,045 (+186) | 1,908 (-33) | 111,053 (+217) | 1,084 (+2) |
7. CASES IN HOSPITALS
Spatial distribution of hospital usage:
- Hospitalization zone are where the patient is receiving care, not zone of residence
| Zone | Hospitalized | ICU |
|---|---|---|
| Calgary | 114 (+1) | 20 (-1) |
| Edmonton | 98 (-1) | 32 (-1) |
| Central | 61 (+1) | 7 (+0) |
| South | 17 (+0) | 4 (+0) |
| North | 39 (+4) | 6 (+2) |
- Note: The baseline capacity of ICU beds in Alberta is 173
- Last date reported: December 19
| ICU Use | Number of Beds |
|---|---|
| Unoccupied | 54 (+12) |
| Occupied (Non-Covid) | 105 (-11) |
| Occupied (Covid) | 69 (-1) |
| Total | 228 (+0) |
Statements by Premier Kenney
Omicron Variant
- Since last week, situation has evolved
- Positive test rate has increased to 11% from 3% previously with sharp increases in Omicron variant cases (1% to 52% over weeks)
- Many unknowns, which has led to changes in booster eligibility and availability of rapid test kits
- More must be done
- All 18+ with a 2nd shot 5+ months ago is now eligible
- Urges Albertans eligible to get them
- While originally wanting to wait 6 months to provide the best protection, the decision to make it 5 month was strategic to protect Albertans from rapid Omicron spread
- Based on the advice of Chief Medical Officer based on the frequency of reinfection and breakthrough cases from Omicron
- Will 'move heaven and earth' to distribute as many boosters as possible
- Booster is the most effective way to protect against Covid-19
- Strong response from public availability of testing kits
- Greater demand than supply, but getting as many kits as possible
- Asking for more kits from federal government
- Asking for increased number of approved test kits
- Aiming to privately procure up to 10 million tests as a province by early January
- See Minister Copping's section
- Will reduce probability of superspreader events in large settings
- Stresses actions at an individual level is a major element of limiting spread
- Asks Albertans to reduce interactions in half over the coming weeks
- Knows it's hard news to take, but it is necessary
- Looks to limit damage to Albertan's mental health as a whole
- Taking steps to ensure healthcare is available for those who need it, Covid and non-Covid
- There are currently 228 ICU beds (173 is standard). Working with AHS to ramp up to 380 if necessary. Hopes it isn't
- Stresses importance of booster doses in protecting against Covid-19 infection
- Venues will be capped based on capacity, and consumption of food will no be permitted:
- 1,000+: 50%
- 500 to 1000: 500
- Starting Friday, restaurants and bars in restrictions exemption program:
- Are limited to 10/table
- Cannot have recreational activity (e.g. billiards)
- Must end alcohol service ends at 11 PM and close by 12:30 AM
- Ask Albertans to stay home when ill and reduce gatherings by 50%
Omicron
- Cases are doubling 2-3 days, shown in province and around world
- Omicron is now the dominant strain and if you test positive, you should assume you have Omicron variant
- Reiterates message from last week:
- Omicron spreads faster than other variants
- This is being seen in Alberta
- Knows this is almost unbearable, especially after no gatherings last year
- It is unfair, but viruses don't care about what is fair
- All that can be done is to learn as quickly as possible and make adjustments based on what is known
- While it breaks through both previous infections and vaccines, 2 doses of vaccines appear to provide protection against severe outcomes. 3 doses provide better protection (and some against infection)
- Omicron appears to be more transmissible because of increased long-range aerosol spread - this happened previously in a more limited capacity, but is more frequent under Omicron
- Masking guidance has been updated:
- Those with risk factors are encouraged to wear medical masks when with anybody outside their household
- N95 is an option, but a well-fitting mask provides significant benefit
- Cloth masks provide some protection, assuming they are well-fitting and have layers of filtration
- Too soon to know about severity: Some places have reported decreased severity, some have not. All have seen increased hospitalizations. Doesn't think other places have seen peak yet. Now is the time to be cautious
- Asks for a reduction of contacts by at least half. Notes that she feels the situation is serious enough to cancel her family's holiday plans
- Transmission will increase to 'heights we have not seen before - unclear what that means to healthcare system
- Given the rapid increase in Omicron cases, all contact tracing has been redirected to high risk settings
- All new cases not linked to continuing care, acute care, and congregate sites will inform close contacts themselves
- This has been implemented in other provinces with rapidly increasing Omicron cases
Questions for Premier Kenney
Social Gatherings
- Is it too vague to ask to 'reduce interactions by 50%'?: Robust measures have been in place since September. With high vaccination coverage, there is protection. Thinks it's helpful to precisely tell Albertans exactly what is needed and let them determine what the 50% means. In his position, Cabinet meetings are online now, and some Christmas parties have been cancelled
- Do you think relaxing social gathering restrictions (vaccination status, household limits) was premature?: No - gathering restrictions are similar to other provinces (with other provinces catching up to Alberta). Unvaccinated Albertans had concerns with those who were legitimately unable to get a vaccine (notes a widow with medical exemption and calls the example unreasonable). Also feels those unwilling to get a vaccine were likely not following restriction regardless
- You have asked Albertans to exercise responsibility in previous waves and it didn't work. Why trust it this time?: Disagrees as peaks in cases for previous waves were prior to most stringent measures. Notes that last Oilers home game had 1/3 of season ticket holders not attending
- Do you think the new restrictions is enough?: Thinks government is doing what is necessary. Willing to do more if needed. Thinks important data will come out in next couple weeks from South Africa, Denmark, and UK to better understand situation
- Other provinces are announcing more measures on businesses. Will Alberta?: Each province will make decisions based on their situation. Specifically notes Québec has a 3x higher case rate per capita. Fully expects rapid growth of Omicron cases and it's concerning. Stresses that if the numbers and the threat of Omicron are 'a wake up call', to get vaccinated
- Could earlier restrictions helped?: Alberta already had stricter restrictions due to 4th wave
- When will restrictions be eased?: No specific metric. Omicron wave is early and data in next weeks should help guide decision making. Will give a good idea early in January
- Any plans for restrictions on gyms/pools/funerals/weddings?: A detailed order from medical officer will be implemented. All examples listed would be guided by current Restriction Exemption Program
- How are today's restrictions (seen as mild) in-line with the potential to overwhelm healthcare?: Disagrees as September measures (which limited 4th wave) have been added upon. Also disagrees as the greatest concern is the limited % of Albertans with booster shots
- (Dr Hinshaw added: Take the situation and Omicron seriously, despite any fatigue that exists)
- Are you still concerned with the federal health advisory against non-essential travel?: Concerned with rising Omicron cases, but also doesn't think restrictions in travel in and out of country are helpful at this point. Notes that flying is less risky than socializing every night. Thinks travel is relatively safe as much as what you are doing
Calgary Police
- Calgary Police had to transport an individual to hospital instead of EMS. Why did this happen?: Case load has increased by 30% since August. Reviewing scheduling and increased funding for hiring. Looking at a strategic plan to manage situation
- Should they be doing this work?: Focused on fixing problem. Understands it's an issue and will work on it
- Any thoughts on changing quarantine rules for healthcare workers?: Work is ongoing. AHS is reviewing protocols
Masking
- Some people wear bandanas/plastic shields. Will rules be adjusted to disallow those?: There are requirements in high risk settings (e.g. acute care). Stresses that cloth masks (without 3 layers, one as a filter) and bandanas are not effective and that mask mandate is critical
- Have Omicron cases in the province been admitted to hospital?: Doesn't have a specific number and thinks it's too early to make any inferences yet. Notes a steep rise in delta cases took a month to translate to hospitalizations due to the first cases being in young adults (low risk of hospitalization)
- Are you looking to re-implement mandatory isolation for close contacts?: Need to shift from single-case isolation protocols. All close contacts should exercise 'significant caution', but no notification nor mandatory isolation will be implemented as is common in many provinces. Window of opportunity to control situation will close if people don't take it seriously right now
- A model suggests Alberta will surpass 6,000 cases by end of 2021 with 4x hospital demand than under delta. Thoughts?: Models give a picture of a possible future and the models are saying we should be concerned due to potential impact on healthcare system
- How does Alberta's modelling align with this?: In-line with other models. Severity isn't known and would need 'drastically reduced severity' to not have a significant impact on healthcare system
- Recommendations for Albertans flying?: Whether travelling in or out of province, reduce contacts. Also notes metal health toll of isolation and that, to alleviate that, travel may be the better option
- Given Alberta was days away from triage in 4th wave, is the any way to avoid it here?: Can't say for sure. If course can't be altered, there is that risk. Have to see other jurisdiction's experiences before we can say
- The final question to Premier Kenney ('Why not impose harsher restrictions (akin to Québec or Ontario?) was only answered in French. I do not have the fluency to fully translate the answer
2021.12.22 01:51 ChiminsDumptruckI seriously hate my mom now.
This post is kind of all over the place because I wanted to rant about everything.
🚧TW: Swearing, TMI, sexual assault, slight mention of eating disorders and complete degradation of a parental figure.🚧
BG: I'm a 22 year old female living in my hometown in Texas in the same exact house I grew up in. I'm the middle child of three siblings on my mother's side of the family. All three of us have different fathers but I took my sister's dad's last name (him and my mom were married at the time) He knew I wasn't his, he even threw me once as a toddler according to my sister. My baby brother got the brunt of this situation and I check on him everyday even though he's states away with strangers...
I was raised to never have hate in my heart but after becoming an adult and looking back on my upbringing + everything that continues to happen to this day, I ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY hate my mother.
Looking back, my mom was never the best, but out of my siblings and I, me and her had the closest bond. I was her shoulder to lean on, regardless my age. I was always there for her, taking care of her, helping her with household chores and taking care of my youngest sibling. Despite I and my mother's bond, my sister was the one who taught me my morals, how to properly groom myself, and the value that I should hold about myself.
My mom has always had a problem with 'being under men' as my grandmother likes to say. She can't manage to stay around her kids and tends to chase men when they leave. For a while, before now, I used to hate men. I used to hate the way they treated my mom, not to mention the things that were happening to me by the same men and even some of my family members. Now a days I don't find myself as disgusted (just a smidget) by men as I did as a kid, i just know my mom had horrid taste and never gave them long before she latched onto their side and introduced them as my next step dad.
It was bad enough growing up in a white supremacist household (even though my grandfather is Mexican and Native American), but to know I had to grow up as the whore of the neighborhood's kid made making friends hard. I made a plethora of friends and can remember all of them, but a few would stop talking to me at every school I went to. Apparently, it was because their parents knew we wouldn't stay at the same school for long... I moved around more than I can count, I went to 4 different elementary schools, 2 middle schools, and 2 different high schools (I never even finished high school, but that's a topic for a different day).
My mom lied to me my whole life and had me doing things I considered normal until I would ask friends if their parents did the same (like dancing for my mother's friends in clothes too small for me even after I hit puberty, I hit puberty at 10. Having me share a bedroom with my male cousin's when she wanted time alone and my sister wasn't home. ANd other stuff I don't really wanna mention.)
Everything that comes out of my mother's mouth is a damned lie. She constantly called CPS on my cousin's who's parents would then turn around and call CPS on us... When I wanted to tell her what was happening to me, she didn't believe shit i said, and lied to the CPS workers to keep my cousin out of jail... Not to mention another incident that happened, (I was SA again, but by my neighbor's son who ended up going to jail because I wasn't the only girl he did it to, but i was the oldest, i was 13 he was 16), she also didn't believe me and I was 1 year older than I was during the first incidents.
When I was SA again by the boy I was 'dating' in middle school, I was already conditioned to punish myself by isolating myself and becoming enraged by the slightest bit of human contact (This was also around the time I developed my eating disorder that was left untreated and slowly turned into binge eating which i still deal with sort of).
There's a bunch of other shit she did as well, but I was getting to point somewhere in here, so let's do that.
My mom is still lying to this day. 2-3 months ago my mom called my sister in the middle of the night. We went to get her, found her in a McDonald's bathroom, crying and shaking. She got into he car and crawled across the backseat to rest her head in my lap. I played in her hair as I always do to calm her down and she had a huge knot on her head. I was crying, seeing her like this broke my fucking heart.
She said her husband (Who I genuinely considered my father. Was gonna legit let the bastard adopt me so they had someone who could inherit their insurance money in case of their deaths (Their idea completely)) hit her while she was driving their new car once they got in town, they're truckers. So we took her in, got her help through the government and let her stay with us. The whole time she was there she was talking mad shit, and i mean MAD SHIT, about her husband. She said she blocked all his numbers and his family too. I believed her, what a dumbass huh?? I picked up her phone to look for an app she wanted to show me while my sister was so graciously doing a whole set of acrylic nails for ehr + her toes, for free might in add. I unlocked it, it opened up to her messenger app that had her convo with 'Hubby Baby ❤' saying shit like, 'When are you gonna come get me?', 'When did you want me to come get you?', 'I miss you baby' 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢 shit like that.
She's a grown ass woman, if she was gonna go back to the bastard, she could've a least let us know instead of playing with our fucking heads and saying she was done with him... But I got over it.
A month later, my sister and her boyfriend's lease is up in about another month. Under all this stress my sister and her bf get into a fight. She shoved him, and he shoved her back, she flailed her arm to catch herself from falling and went through the window. She got mad and broke the rest of the damn window before storming out of the apartment to take the kids to school... So me, being a momma's girl and my anxiety through the roof because now I'm alone with her bf (I'm a 6ft girl and I'm built like a brick wall) but in my anxiety filled mind, I felt like a child again and was so scared he would come into my room and start screaming at me. He didn't tho, he's normally a great guy and he's never put his hands on my sister until that day. He ended up packing his shit and so did my sister. There was about a month left in the apartment and since being at my grandma's for 2 days left me with sinusitis so bad my sinuses were physically swollen (As in, you could see my face deforming from it), I stayed there alone. It was quite scary, but nice to be alone.
I'm mentioning all this because my mom was supposed to leave town. She came to help us before she left and was trying to comfort me when I didn't want it and was physically pushing her away. She's making living at my grandmother's, literal hell even though it already would've been hell with my sinuses at my grandmother's petting zoo of a house.
She stole from her nephew and my cousin's while she was 'visiting'. She pawned their shit (3 Nintendo Switches, a shit load of games, and my grandmother's unopened bluetooth earbuds), claiming she didn't. My sister pressed charges and the detective on the case found out that she pawned them under her name because you have to show ID. Her dumbass still said it wasn't her and that 'someone stole my ID'... BITCH ARE YOU THAT STUPID??? YOU GOTTA LOOK LIKE YOUR ID TO USE IT OMFG!!! She came around a bit after that and she looked so different, she shredded weight and ehr face looked so dead and sunken...
Since then, she's called CPS on my cousin's who live here, APS on my grandma while pretending to be her, and now code compliance has come out to our house 2 separate times for separate things. We have nowhere to go, and she isn't aloud here so I think she is trying to get us all kicked out because she is mad that she can't come onto the property... I have such deep rooted hatred for her... I finally understand why my sister has always hated her, and now I do too. SO much that when I saw her and her bird chested, crusty, musty, dusty, crooked eyed husband at a gas station... I wanted to get out and fight them, while the car was still moving. She makes my skin crawl with disgust, my chest bubble with hatred and gives me high blood pressure...
I need a walk.
submitted byChiminsDumptrucktoparentsruiningkids [link][comments]🚧TW: Swearing, TMI, sexual assault, slight mention of eating disorders and complete degradation of a parental figure.🚧
BG: I'm a 22 year old female living in my hometown in Texas in the same exact house I grew up in. I'm the middle child of three siblings on my mother's side of the family. All three of us have different fathers but I took my sister's dad's last name (him and my mom were married at the time) He knew I wasn't his, he even threw me once as a toddler according to my sister. My baby brother got the brunt of this situation and I check on him everyday even though he's states away with strangers...
I was raised to never have hate in my heart but after becoming an adult and looking back on my upbringing + everything that continues to happen to this day, I ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY hate my mother.
Looking back, my mom was never the best, but out of my siblings and I, me and her had the closest bond. I was her shoulder to lean on, regardless my age. I was always there for her, taking care of her, helping her with household chores and taking care of my youngest sibling. Despite I and my mother's bond, my sister was the one who taught me my morals, how to properly groom myself, and the value that I should hold about myself.
My mom has always had a problem with 'being under men' as my grandmother likes to say. She can't manage to stay around her kids and tends to chase men when they leave. For a while, before now, I used to hate men. I used to hate the way they treated my mom, not to mention the things that were happening to me by the same men and even some of my family members. Now a days I don't find myself as disgusted (just a smidget) by men as I did as a kid, i just know my mom had horrid taste and never gave them long before she latched onto their side and introduced them as my next step dad.
It was bad enough growing up in a white supremacist household (even though my grandfather is Mexican and Native American), but to know I had to grow up as the whore of the neighborhood's kid made making friends hard. I made a plethora of friends and can remember all of them, but a few would stop talking to me at every school I went to. Apparently, it was because their parents knew we wouldn't stay at the same school for long... I moved around more than I can count, I went to 4 different elementary schools, 2 middle schools, and 2 different high schools (I never even finished high school, but that's a topic for a different day).
My mom lied to me my whole life and had me doing things I considered normal until I would ask friends if their parents did the same (like dancing for my mother's friends in clothes too small for me even after I hit puberty, I hit puberty at 10. Having me share a bedroom with my male cousin's when she wanted time alone and my sister wasn't home. ANd other stuff I don't really wanna mention.)
Everything that comes out of my mother's mouth is a damned lie. She constantly called CPS on my cousin's who's parents would then turn around and call CPS on us... When I wanted to tell her what was happening to me, she didn't believe shit i said, and lied to the CPS workers to keep my cousin out of jail... Not to mention another incident that happened, (I was SA again, but by my neighbor's son who ended up going to jail because I wasn't the only girl he did it to, but i was the oldest, i was 13 he was 16), she also didn't believe me and I was 1 year older than I was during the first incidents.
When I was SA again by the boy I was 'dating' in middle school, I was already conditioned to punish myself by isolating myself and becoming enraged by the slightest bit of human contact (This was also around the time I developed my eating disorder that was left untreated and slowly turned into binge eating which i still deal with sort of).
There's a bunch of other shit she did as well, but I was getting to point somewhere in here, so let's do that.
My mom is still lying to this day. 2-3 months ago my mom called my sister in the middle of the night. We went to get her, found her in a McDonald's bathroom, crying and shaking. She got into he car and crawled across the backseat to rest her head in my lap. I played in her hair as I always do to calm her down and she had a huge knot on her head. I was crying, seeing her like this broke my fucking heart.
She said her husband (Who I genuinely considered my father. Was gonna legit let the bastard adopt me so they had someone who could inherit their insurance money in case of their deaths (Their idea completely)) hit her while she was driving their new car once they got in town, they're truckers. So we took her in, got her help through the government and let her stay with us. The whole time she was there she was talking mad shit, and i mean MAD SHIT, about her husband. She said she blocked all his numbers and his family too. I believed her, what a dumbass huh?? I picked up her phone to look for an app she wanted to show me while my sister was so graciously doing a whole set of acrylic nails for ehr + her toes, for free might in add. I unlocked it, it opened up to her messenger app that had her convo with 'Hubby Baby ❤' saying shit like, 'When are you gonna come get me?', 'When did you want me to come get you?', 'I miss you baby' 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢 shit like that.
She's a grown ass woman, if she was gonna go back to the bastard, she could've a least let us know instead of playing with our fucking heads and saying she was done with him... But I got over it.
A month later, my sister and her boyfriend's lease is up in about another month. Under all this stress my sister and her bf get into a fight. She shoved him, and he shoved her back, she flailed her arm to catch herself from falling and went through the window. She got mad and broke the rest of the damn window before storming out of the apartment to take the kids to school... So me, being a momma's girl and my anxiety through the roof because now I'm alone with her bf (I'm a 6ft girl and I'm built like a brick wall) but in my anxiety filled mind, I felt like a child again and was so scared he would come into my room and start screaming at me. He didn't tho, he's normally a great guy and he's never put his hands on my sister until that day. He ended up packing his shit and so did my sister. There was about a month left in the apartment and since being at my grandma's for 2 days left me with sinusitis so bad my sinuses were physically swollen (As in, you could see my face deforming from it), I stayed there alone. It was quite scary, but nice to be alone.
I'm mentioning all this because my mom was supposed to leave town. She came to help us before she left and was trying to comfort me when I didn't want it and was physically pushing her away. She's making living at my grandmother's, literal hell even though it already would've been hell with my sinuses at my grandmother's petting zoo of a house.
She stole from her nephew and my cousin's while she was 'visiting'. She pawned their shit (3 Nintendo Switches, a shit load of games, and my grandmother's unopened bluetooth earbuds), claiming she didn't. My sister pressed charges and the detective on the case found out that she pawned them under her name because you have to show ID. Her dumbass still said it wasn't her and that 'someone stole my ID'... BITCH ARE YOU THAT STUPID??? YOU GOTTA LOOK LIKE YOUR ID TO USE IT OMFG!!! She came around a bit after that and she looked so different, she shredded weight and ehr face looked so dead and sunken...
Since then, she's called CPS on my cousin's who live here, APS on my grandma while pretending to be her, and now code compliance has come out to our house 2 separate times for separate things. We have nowhere to go, and she isn't aloud here so I think she is trying to get us all kicked out because she is mad that she can't come onto the property... I have such deep rooted hatred for her... I finally understand why my sister has always hated her, and now I do too. SO much that when I saw her and her bird chested, crusty, musty, dusty, crooked eyed husband at a gas station... I wanted to get out and fight them, while the car was still moving. She makes my skin crawl with disgust, my chest bubble with hatred and gives me high blood pressure...
I need a walk.
2021.12.21 22:11 esther__greenwoodMy stepfather died and now everything is a mess.
I'm not even really sure how to start this. I've been a long time lurker on this sub but this is my first time posting. I just need to get this out.
My mother is an undiagnosed narcissist and until I was 17 I was her only child. My parents were in their very early 20s when I was born. Because of my mother, my life was complete chaos until I was 12. The instability was due to my mom's terrible, selfish parenting. Everything in my life was at the whims of her 'happiness.' If she was unhappy, we would move or she would break up with her boyfriend and we would be homeless. She would suddenly quit her job and eviction notices would show up. The lights would get turned off. If she was happy, we would move in with some random new boyfriend.
She had absolutely no boundaries with me. She treated me like her little roommate who also happened to attend elementary school. She would talk about her sex life with me. Her love life in general...throughout my childhood she would cry to me about how she didn't know how *we* were going to pay rent/pay bills/buy food. She would call me her 'little best friend' (she still does this and it triggers me to this day). I grew up parenting my parent for as long as I can remember. I developed (and am still dealing with) anxiety disorders because of this. I would go to school worried about electric bills and eviction notices. I developed dermatophagia (its really gross - don't google. its anxiety disorder that causes you to chew your own skin).
She was physically and emotionally abusive. One of my most vivid childhood memories is of when our neighbor asked me if we had any food in our home and if I felt safe. I was so overwhelmed that someone would ask me this that I cried (I didn't actually say 'yes' or 'no'). Her best friend and our roommate at the time overheard this conversation and told my mom. She beat me with a belt for hours. She forced me to lie to my Dad and CPS about everything. She told me my Dad didn't give a fuck about me. Most of the time, she completely ignored me (luckily). When she did acknowledge my existence, any time I expressed any idea or did anything that she didn't like, I would get the silent treatment for days. Then she would decide I was her favorite person on earth for a few days. It was a cycle where I simultaneously craved her attention and secretly hated her. I never knew which mommy I was going to get when I woke up. I became an overly emotional child that would cry at the slightest negative interaction. I became a people pleaser (I still struggle with this also) and am now hyper vigilant to the micro-expressions of others after spending my childhood trying to guess my mom's emotional state through her footsteps or how she twisted a door handle. Because the only positive attention I ever got was at school, I got really good grades and fell in love with reading fiction (this becomes important later). To the outside world, my mom would present herself as a martyr single mother and would take credit for me doing well in school (she also still does this -_-).
Every summer she was mandated by the court to allow me to go visit my Dad and his family. Those summers were the only time I was allowed to be a kid. My grandpa and I would make root beer floats. My Dad took me swimming at the lake by our house. Our family was a part of a COGIC church and I got to sing in the children's choir. My grandma grew up very poor so, because our family did well, she would buy me pretty dresses with lots of frills for church. My Dad played with my Barbie dreamhouse and took me to the children's museum to learn about dinosaurs. They loved me very much. I was still too afraid to tell them the truth. I would cry on my way to the airport to go back to my mom, every single time. When I would come home to my mother, she would guilt trip me about all of this love I experienced (silent treatment, passive aggression, throwing away my presents from them saying they were 'dorky'). Any time I expressed possibility of living there permanently, she would scare me about how they would 'hate' and 'control' me because they were so religious. Also, any time anyone sent me cash as a gift she would take it from me.
When I was 12, my mom met the man who became my stepdad (A). My life completely changed. A was really wealthy. A was also really kind to me (at first). We moved from a horrible neighborhood to a new one to live in A's giant house. I went to the best schools in our area, suddenly had the nice clothes, new fashionable backpacks, accessories, etc. I became a 'cool' girl in school. For the most part, my mom continued to leave me alone but because things were so much better financially, she was way less angry and she only ever hit me once in front of A. They got married and continued to ignore me. It was really lonely. I never had a birthday party until I became a teenager and my friend's surprised me with one (during which I was so uncomfortable that I cried). We never had family dinners on holidays or anything like that and I would just sit around waiting for my friends to be done with their families. They would go on ski trips and go to fancy parties, leaving me home alone...literally all the time. I was literally the poor little rich girl trope.
Despite all of this, at the beginning A and I had a really amazing relationship when they were actually around. He loved being my Stepdad when my Mom would let him. He sat at the kitchen table with me while I cried because I didn't get algebra in the 8th grade and was so proud of me when I finally got it. He convinced me to try out for our high school cheerleading squad and was there waiting for me in the parking lot when I found out I made the team. We loved all the same music and he would give me all of his old CDs. We became pretty close for a short time. But as I got older (like 9th grade age 14-15), my mom essentially convinced A that I was a spoiled, selfish, bratty girl who was too smart for her own good. He started treating me that way. Everything I did was wrong. Any mistake I made was considered to be a malicious one, automatically, or I was ignored completely. There's no other way to explain it...my parents were simply mean to me. My entire life my mom would put me down and make fun of me in front of my friends and it got worse as I got older. A would participate and/or laugh with her when she cruelly teased me. My mom was my first bully and A enabled her emotional abuse. I learned not to ask for or accept her help for anything because it would be thrown in my face for the rest of time. They got used to me getting good grades so any time I got less than an A on an assignment, my mom would come home and scream at me but I received no praise for the good grades. This was the advent of parents being able to check their kids grades online and my mom checked mine literally every. single. day. It was so confusing and I (understandably) became a sullen teenager. I was so lonely. When a teacher found a note in my books about how I wanted to die, I received no help; just a lecture on how embarrassing it was for our family. I started getting the attention I wasn't receiving at home in other ways. I have no idea how many men I've had sex with.
Anyway, contrary to my high school slut reputation, I continued to do really well in school. I honestly think this was motivated mostly by spite (haha). I wanted to get as far away from them as possible and higher education seemed like my only way out. My senior year of high school, I got accepted to every college I applied to with full scholarships. That same year, my baby sisters were born. They're twins and are now 13. I fell in love with them. The whole time my mom was pregnant, I was really anxious about how she was going to treat them. Then they were born and all of her old shit came roaring back. She would yell at them for not sleeping at like 5 months old, throw things, etc. I once brought this up with my stepdad and I broke down crying. I'm not sure if he fully understood how bad my life before him really was. During this time she would refer to A and my sisters as 'her family' when talking to me. (Example: my sisters were crying while I was studying so I was getting ready to leave to study at a friends...her response was 'what do you want me to do?! just move MY FAMILY so its quiet for you?) This is an emotional wound that has never and I don't think ever will fully heal.
Also that year was the 2008 financial crisis and our family went through it. My stepdad became an internet conspiracy theorist and stopped paying their mortgage. I'm not really sure what happened exactly because I moved out for college and everything was paid for through my previous hard work so their financial issues did not affect me. They ended up getting divorced. My mom, true to form, just HAD to tell me about their pending divorce the night before I was taking the LSAT. Also during this time, I received a small inheritance from a friend of my dad's family that she stole from me.
I finally made the decision to go minimum contact with her after she made my college graduation entirely about her in a story too long for this already too long post. Just know in all of my graduation photos my eyes are visibly swollen from crying all night. That entire last semester of school she'd been giving me the silent treatment (ignoring my calls, etc.) because she didn't like where I decided to go for law school. I spent the summer before I left for law school living with her. Things were fine until we got closer to me actually leaving. The entire summer she knew the date I was leaving and we discussed that she was taking me. When I asked her what time we wanted to leave for the airport, she acted shocked that I needed a ride, completely annoyed that she had to take me, and was incredibly passive aggressive to me the entire two hour ride. She was so angry with me that she all but threw my bag out of the trunk and drove off barely saying goodbye without even a hug for her first born daughter that was moving to the other side of the country. My friends who were there at the airport to send me off were shocked and kept asking me if I was okay. I was so embarrassed and got choked up trying to explain but also it was the first time that I really fully truly realized that its not me and that she is literally mentally ill. I let it go. I was free. She didn't speak to me the entire three years I was in law school. It made me sad if I really thought about it too hard but I just kept telling myself that it wasn't me. I invited her to my law school graduation and she tried to make that all about her as well but I refused to give her the satisfaction. She left early because I fully ignored her dramatics and spent the entire time being loved by my Dad's family. For the first time in my life, I didn't take the bait. We've been minimum contact since then except to talk about my sisters which is what brings me to now.
Since I moved away, I made a concerted effort to make a relationship with my little sisters. When they got cell phones I started talking with them all the time. Helping with homework...listening to middle school problems. I would go out of my way to validate their emotions and lift them up when my mom would belittle them. In the background my mom would be annoyed and also make passive aggressive comments about me wasting time and money in school and how I'm never going to give her grandchildren. She doesn't know that I'm childfree because I'm too afraid I'll be just like her.
January 2020 my stepdad came to visit me while he was attending a conference in the city where I live. He broke down in the car and apologized to me for not doing more for me about my mom during my childhood. It was really emotional. He cried. I cried. He told me about how she started treating my sisters similarly (minus the physical abuse; just the emotional warfare). We became really close after that and texted all the time. Earlier this month, my stepdad died in a tragic sudden accident and my first thought was 'fuck, now my sisters are stuck with her completely.' At first she proved me wrong, she was levelheaded under insane pressure and was showing kindness that I had never seen before. Then, things took a turn. I called her to ask about funeral details and she blows by that to tell me that (1) she and her boyfriend aren't having sex; (2) he's throwing her and my sisters out of his house because of some (very old) text messages between her and my stepdad (which tbh this story didn't add up but whatever); (3) A's family wants to put his life insurance/etc in a trust for the girls but she 'needs that money' because they are now staying at my stepdad's empty house but will be homeless because she can't afford it; and (4) I'm the worst for leaving her because I'm not there to help her so somehow its my fault that her life is ruined. I felt like I was 10 years old again.
I thought my mom grew up somewhat but she hasn't. How could you be 50+ years old and still be living like this...relying on the emotions of your boyfriend to keep a roof over your children's heads??? Why can't she ever be an adult? WHY. Everything is always about her and her happiness. She has absolutely no savings...nothing. How is she going to take care of my sisters? I don't trust her at all to parent them but I also cannot afford to help them. I'm so afraid that, left to her own devices, she will treat my sisters how she treated me. I don't know what to do. I don't think there's anything I can do. They don't deserve this.
And of course, I haven't been able to properly process my own emotions surrounding my stepdad dying because I'm now so stressed out about her mess. I'm supposed to fly home tomorrow and I'm fighting not to start chewing at my fingers again. I'm sorry this is so long and if you've read this far, thank you. I know this sub knows what I mean when I say I would just give anything for a normal fucking mom.
submitted byesther__greenwoodtoraisedbynarcissists [link][comments]My mother is an undiagnosed narcissist and until I was 17 I was her only child. My parents were in their very early 20s when I was born. Because of my mother, my life was complete chaos until I was 12. The instability was due to my mom's terrible, selfish parenting. Everything in my life was at the whims of her 'happiness.' If she was unhappy, we would move or she would break up with her boyfriend and we would be homeless. She would suddenly quit her job and eviction notices would show up. The lights would get turned off. If she was happy, we would move in with some random new boyfriend.
She had absolutely no boundaries with me. She treated me like her little roommate who also happened to attend elementary school. She would talk about her sex life with me. Her love life in general...throughout my childhood she would cry to me about how she didn't know how *we* were going to pay rent/pay bills/buy food. She would call me her 'little best friend' (she still does this and it triggers me to this day). I grew up parenting my parent for as long as I can remember. I developed (and am still dealing with) anxiety disorders because of this. I would go to school worried about electric bills and eviction notices. I developed dermatophagia (its really gross - don't google. its anxiety disorder that causes you to chew your own skin).
She was physically and emotionally abusive. One of my most vivid childhood memories is of when our neighbor asked me if we had any food in our home and if I felt safe. I was so overwhelmed that someone would ask me this that I cried (I didn't actually say 'yes' or 'no'). Her best friend and our roommate at the time overheard this conversation and told my mom. She beat me with a belt for hours. She forced me to lie to my Dad and CPS about everything. She told me my Dad didn't give a fuck about me. Most of the time, she completely ignored me (luckily). When she did acknowledge my existence, any time I expressed any idea or did anything that she didn't like, I would get the silent treatment for days. Then she would decide I was her favorite person on earth for a few days. It was a cycle where I simultaneously craved her attention and secretly hated her. I never knew which mommy I was going to get when I woke up. I became an overly emotional child that would cry at the slightest negative interaction. I became a people pleaser (I still struggle with this also) and am now hyper vigilant to the micro-expressions of others after spending my childhood trying to guess my mom's emotional state through her footsteps or how she twisted a door handle. Because the only positive attention I ever got was at school, I got really good grades and fell in love with reading fiction (this becomes important later). To the outside world, my mom would present herself as a martyr single mother and would take credit for me doing well in school (she also still does this -_-).
Every summer she was mandated by the court to allow me to go visit my Dad and his family. Those summers were the only time I was allowed to be a kid. My grandpa and I would make root beer floats. My Dad took me swimming at the lake by our house. Our family was a part of a COGIC church and I got to sing in the children's choir. My grandma grew up very poor so, because our family did well, she would buy me pretty dresses with lots of frills for church. My Dad played with my Barbie dreamhouse and took me to the children's museum to learn about dinosaurs. They loved me very much. I was still too afraid to tell them the truth. I would cry on my way to the airport to go back to my mom, every single time. When I would come home to my mother, she would guilt trip me about all of this love I experienced (silent treatment, passive aggression, throwing away my presents from them saying they were 'dorky'). Any time I expressed possibility of living there permanently, she would scare me about how they would 'hate' and 'control' me because they were so religious. Also, any time anyone sent me cash as a gift she would take it from me.
When I was 12, my mom met the man who became my stepdad (A). My life completely changed. A was really wealthy. A was also really kind to me (at first). We moved from a horrible neighborhood to a new one to live in A's giant house. I went to the best schools in our area, suddenly had the nice clothes, new fashionable backpacks, accessories, etc. I became a 'cool' girl in school. For the most part, my mom continued to leave me alone but because things were so much better financially, she was way less angry and she only ever hit me once in front of A. They got married and continued to ignore me. It was really lonely. I never had a birthday party until I became a teenager and my friend's surprised me with one (during which I was so uncomfortable that I cried). We never had family dinners on holidays or anything like that and I would just sit around waiting for my friends to be done with their families. They would go on ski trips and go to fancy parties, leaving me home alone...literally all the time. I was literally the poor little rich girl trope.
Despite all of this, at the beginning A and I had a really amazing relationship when they were actually around. He loved being my Stepdad when my Mom would let him. He sat at the kitchen table with me while I cried because I didn't get algebra in the 8th grade and was so proud of me when I finally got it. He convinced me to try out for our high school cheerleading squad and was there waiting for me in the parking lot when I found out I made the team. We loved all the same music and he would give me all of his old CDs. We became pretty close for a short time. But as I got older (like 9th grade age 14-15), my mom essentially convinced A that I was a spoiled, selfish, bratty girl who was too smart for her own good. He started treating me that way. Everything I did was wrong. Any mistake I made was considered to be a malicious one, automatically, or I was ignored completely. There's no other way to explain it...my parents were simply mean to me. My entire life my mom would put me down and make fun of me in front of my friends and it got worse as I got older. A would participate and/or laugh with her when she cruelly teased me. My mom was my first bully and A enabled her emotional abuse. I learned not to ask for or accept her help for anything because it would be thrown in my face for the rest of time. They got used to me getting good grades so any time I got less than an A on an assignment, my mom would come home and scream at me but I received no praise for the good grades. This was the advent of parents being able to check their kids grades online and my mom checked mine literally every. single. day. It was so confusing and I (understandably) became a sullen teenager. I was so lonely. When a teacher found a note in my books about how I wanted to die, I received no help; just a lecture on how embarrassing it was for our family. I started getting the attention I wasn't receiving at home in other ways. I have no idea how many men I've had sex with.
Anyway, contrary to my high school slut reputation, I continued to do really well in school. I honestly think this was motivated mostly by spite (haha). I wanted to get as far away from them as possible and higher education seemed like my only way out. My senior year of high school, I got accepted to every college I applied to with full scholarships. That same year, my baby sisters were born. They're twins and are now 13. I fell in love with them. The whole time my mom was pregnant, I was really anxious about how she was going to treat them. Then they were born and all of her old shit came roaring back. She would yell at them for not sleeping at like 5 months old, throw things, etc. I once brought this up with my stepdad and I broke down crying. I'm not sure if he fully understood how bad my life before him really was. During this time she would refer to A and my sisters as 'her family' when talking to me. (Example: my sisters were crying while I was studying so I was getting ready to leave to study at a friends...her response was 'what do you want me to do?! just move MY FAMILY so its quiet for you?) This is an emotional wound that has never and I don't think ever will fully heal.
Also that year was the 2008 financial crisis and our family went through it. My stepdad became an internet conspiracy theorist and stopped paying their mortgage. I'm not really sure what happened exactly because I moved out for college and everything was paid for through my previous hard work so their financial issues did not affect me. They ended up getting divorced. My mom, true to form, just HAD to tell me about their pending divorce the night before I was taking the LSAT. Also during this time, I received a small inheritance from a friend of my dad's family that she stole from me.
I finally made the decision to go minimum contact with her after she made my college graduation entirely about her in a story too long for this already too long post. Just know in all of my graduation photos my eyes are visibly swollen from crying all night. That entire last semester of school she'd been giving me the silent treatment (ignoring my calls, etc.) because she didn't like where I decided to go for law school. I spent the summer before I left for law school living with her. Things were fine until we got closer to me actually leaving. The entire summer she knew the date I was leaving and we discussed that she was taking me. When I asked her what time we wanted to leave for the airport, she acted shocked that I needed a ride, completely annoyed that she had to take me, and was incredibly passive aggressive to me the entire two hour ride. She was so angry with me that she all but threw my bag out of the trunk and drove off barely saying goodbye without even a hug for her first born daughter that was moving to the other side of the country. My friends who were there at the airport to send me off were shocked and kept asking me if I was okay. I was so embarrassed and got choked up trying to explain but also it was the first time that I really fully truly realized that its not me and that she is literally mentally ill. I let it go. I was free. She didn't speak to me the entire three years I was in law school. It made me sad if I really thought about it too hard but I just kept telling myself that it wasn't me. I invited her to my law school graduation and she tried to make that all about her as well but I refused to give her the satisfaction. She left early because I fully ignored her dramatics and spent the entire time being loved by my Dad's family. For the first time in my life, I didn't take the bait. We've been minimum contact since then except to talk about my sisters which is what brings me to now.
Since I moved away, I made a concerted effort to make a relationship with my little sisters. When they got cell phones I started talking with them all the time. Helping with homework...listening to middle school problems. I would go out of my way to validate their emotions and lift them up when my mom would belittle them. In the background my mom would be annoyed and also make passive aggressive comments about me wasting time and money in school and how I'm never going to give her grandchildren. She doesn't know that I'm childfree because I'm too afraid I'll be just like her.
January 2020 my stepdad came to visit me while he was attending a conference in the city where I live. He broke down in the car and apologized to me for not doing more for me about my mom during my childhood. It was really emotional. He cried. I cried. He told me about how she started treating my sisters similarly (minus the physical abuse; just the emotional warfare). We became really close after that and texted all the time. Earlier this month, my stepdad died in a tragic sudden accident and my first thought was 'fuck, now my sisters are stuck with her completely.' At first she proved me wrong, she was levelheaded under insane pressure and was showing kindness that I had never seen before. Then, things took a turn. I called her to ask about funeral details and she blows by that to tell me that (1) she and her boyfriend aren't having sex; (2) he's throwing her and my sisters out of his house because of some (very old) text messages between her and my stepdad (which tbh this story didn't add up but whatever); (3) A's family wants to put his life insurance/etc in a trust for the girls but she 'needs that money' because they are now staying at my stepdad's empty house but will be homeless because she can't afford it; and (4) I'm the worst for leaving her because I'm not there to help her so somehow its my fault that her life is ruined. I felt like I was 10 years old again.
I thought my mom grew up somewhat but she hasn't. How could you be 50+ years old and still be living like this...relying on the emotions of your boyfriend to keep a roof over your children's heads??? Why can't she ever be an adult? WHY. Everything is always about her and her happiness. She has absolutely no savings...nothing. How is she going to take care of my sisters? I don't trust her at all to parent them but I also cannot afford to help them. I'm so afraid that, left to her own devices, she will treat my sisters how she treated me. I don't know what to do. I don't think there's anything I can do. They don't deserve this.
And of course, I haven't been able to properly process my own emotions surrounding my stepdad dying because I'm now so stressed out about her mess. I'm supposed to fly home tomorrow and I'm fighting not to start chewing at my fingers again. I'm sorry this is so long and if you've read this far, thank you. I know this sub knows what I mean when I say I would just give anything for a normal fucking mom.
2021.12.21 12:23 HunnieBuggMy Story, I Guess
Hey friends. I've been looking for some peer-to-peer trauma recovery resources that are accessible to poor folks, and ended up here. I'm on a bunch of waitlists for therapy, and in the meantime I'm just kind of on my own. My mental health has been not-so-great lately, and one of the things I've been struggling with the most is feeling like I just don't have anywhere to talk about what happened to me. I'm afraid to share with my friends or loved ones because I know that my story is difficult and could hurt them/ cause compassion fatigue. So here I am.
My story starts young, it's long, it's ugly, and it's kind of nuts. Honestly it's the kind of story that I would consider 'too much' or 'overkill' if I read it in a book. The scope of it is just bewildering. I won't write any graphic descriptions of events, of course, but please heed the TWs, and don't read this as a way to hurt yourself. Take breaks, or stop if you need to. Please be good to yourself. And if there are any TWs I should add to this, please let me know and I'll do that.
I'm not sure what I'm looking for, really. Maybe validation? I don't know. There's just so much of it that I don't know what to do with myself. I only just recently got away from my last abuser, and had this moment of startling clarity where I realized I've been in a self-protective state of autopilot for like... most of my life. It's like when you're really drunk inside a bar, like a little uncomfortably drunk, and then you step outside and the air is really clean and cold and quiet and you kind of come to earth all at once. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here's the basics of who I am: I'm 24, transmasc, queer, unemployed since the global panini, and I have chronic pain that limits my mobility.
Anyway here goes I guess????
Both my parents were addicts, both profoundly mentally ill. Mom has depression and anxiety, and her own trauma issues. Dad is schizophrenic. Both are alcoholics and abused painkillers, but Dad also did some more serious drugs. I was kind of fucked from day one. I will say, Mom is now 6 years clean and sober. I don't know where my Dad is really, but he was also clean and sober last I heard. But I didn't exactly win the hereditary mental health lottery, if you catch my drift.
Mom got sober for the first time when she found out she was pregnant. She started nursing school. Raised me pretty much solo, but Dad would show up every once in awhile and sometimes 'babysat.' But at one point, when I was a little over a year old, Mom came home from late classes and found him and a bunch of hid buddies passed out in the apartment, drugs everywhere, and me in the hallway alone in a full diaper, crying, and chewing on a straw someone had been using to do some kind of hard drugs. It could have been really bad. He wasn't allowed to be alone with me after that. Eventually, I didn't really see him at all.
When I was three, Mom started dating another guy, and he was really helpful with the parenting thing, and they got engaged. I called the new guy my Dad. We moved out to the middle of nowhere with him and got a dog and everything. I loved his parents, they treated me like I really was their grandkid. But he r-ped me. I told my mom and thank G-d she believed me. I'm really glad she taught me how to talk about my body from a young age, so I could explain what had happened. But I was really little, so it was hard for me to wrap my head around what happened and why. I had to leave the house that I liked, and my grandparents, and my dog, and a bunch of my stuff, and it was sad and I was just confused. My mom kind of fell apart (I mean of course she did, it was as much a trauma event for her as it was for me) and we lived with my grandmother for awhile. Mom and I started to co-sleep, and she was really protective of me and we got super attached. Even when I slept in my own bed, I would have really bad nightmares, and sometimes I would sleep walk into her room and wake up in her bed. Other times, she was the one having nightmares and she would come get me, because if I wasn't with her, she was just scared that I wasn't safe.
I definitely grew up with the sense that my mom was fragile and we had to take care of each other. It was us against the world.
When I was six, I was molested by a neighbor boy who was a few years older than me. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to get in trouble for playing in a part of the yard where we weren't supposed to be (I was pretty scared of my grandmother at that age). I didn't tell anyone for years, after the kid and his family had already moved away. I think as a child, part of me was afraid that if I said something, my whole life would get uprooted again.
I went through the usual shit in school, growing up as a girl. Boys pushing me around, grabbing me, chasing me. I didn't think much of it, but of course with everything else I'd already gone through it didn't help, and it created this sense of normalcy around having my bodily autonomy taken away and my boundaries ignored. I also definitely grew up in a 'Don't be rude, give grandpa a kiss' kind of family.
I was a weird nerdy little kid and I was always kind of wibbly on gender stuff. I cut my hair short pretty young and got asked if I was a girl or a boy a lot. My first 'boyfriend' in middle school was really weird and pushy about sex, and wanted to talk about it all the time. He never actually pressured me to have sex with him, but he would say things like 'Girls should always shave their pubes, just in case it happens.' He took me up to his room once and showed me his porn stash, and all the pictures were of large-breasted, tan, shiny blonde women with zero body hair. I remember thinking 'If this is what he likes, why is he with me? Is this what he thinks I should look like?' It was a weird experience and didn't leave me feeling great about myself.
The next guy I dated at that age was really nice, but it fell apart because he wasn't pushy about sex, and I thought that meant he didn't like me. I ended up making him uncomfortable because my ideas about what it meant for a boy to like me were all fucked up already.
Things got gross again when I was fourteen. I met a seventeen year old guy at a small comic book convention thing, and he was really nice to me and wanted to like... hear about my interests and read my writing, and at that point I didn't really have good friends and I felt invisible, so having him pay attention to me and care about what I had to say felt really good. We ended up in a long distance relationship, and things went south fast. Of course they did, he was 17. He texted me constantly, told me all of his fantasies about me, some of which were honestly really violent, and became very controlling. He wanted to know where I was and who I was with all the time, and would pressure me to give up on my interests like theater and choir so I could spend more time talking to him. He threatened me a lot. But he was super manipulative, and made me feel like if I left him, I wouldn't have anyone. He pressured me into sending him nudes (remember, I was 14!!!!) and when my mom found out, instead of trying to protect me, she just got angry at me. That started a several-years-long cycle of my mom slut shaming me and constantly monitoring my phone, reading my diaries, getting into my social media, etc. It didn't stop me from getting hurt, it just made me really good at hiding things from her.
I did that whole break-up-get-back-together-break-up-get-back-together thing with that guy for a long time (meaning at one point he was an adult and I was still a child). I got shamed for it, but no one in my life ever actually tried to stop what was happening. I actually saw him in person several times. At one point he physically chased me through a convention hall and threatened to throw me down a flight of stairs.
After that, I started high school and started dating a guy one grade ahead of me. (He's gonna come up again, so let's call him Greg). My mom was like 'Okay, finally, something normal.' Except he turned out to be creepy possessive and jealous. But he was polite, so my mom absolutely loved him, no matter what I told her. After we started having sex, it was suddenly all Greg wanted, all the time. I became this object that he could use to live out fantasies, rather than a partner to have experiences with. I was basically a sex doll that helped him with his English papers. I was the only girl in his circle of weird nerd friends, and they all objectified me constantly. The first time I ever gave him a blowjob, it was in a room with two of his friends, who made comments the whole time. I was always getting grabbed and groped and cornered. It was so constant that it just became my normal. It was like I zoned out from all of it, all the time. I wasn't really present in my own body. And of course it's easy to say 'Why didn't you just stop hanging out with them?' But I was weird and queer and profoundly depressed, and I didn't have anyone else. I also didn't value myself enough to care about how they treated me. By that time, there were already rumors going around that I was a slut, so in everyone else's eyes, it didn't matter what happened to me because I was used goods. There was nothing left in me to protect.
Even now, in a healthy partnership with a woman I love who is endlessly good to and for me, I still feel that shame, and I still struggle to be present in my body. It makes intimacy really hard. Even with someone I love, as soon as someone touches me, my brain's like 'Okay, time to go into screensaver mode now.' It's either that, or I get flashbacks.
My first girlfriend was a super Christian girl who broke up with me because she 'got healed of her homosexuality.' That was rough.
High school was honestly just a blur of abuse at the hands of the boys and men in my life. I was constantly fending off (or failing to fend off, or too exhausted and depressed to fend off) the advances of boys who had social power over me, or men who had no business being around me at all. I was assaulted so many times. I honestly don't know how many, because at the time, it had become so normal to me that I didn't even register it anymore. I also dissociated from a lot of those experiences, and some of it is hard to remember. The memories kind of float together, and thinking about my high school years just becomes this indistinct blur of pain. I was hospitalized twice for trying to unalive myself. My family was just ashamed that people knew, and desperate to maintain an appearance of normalcy. I developed anorexia because that was the only way I could have any control over my body. I still struggle with disordered eating now.
I was also dealing with other heavy stuff. One of my friends, let's say Ben, was two years older than me, and he was an addict and kept getting kicked out of his parents house because he couldn't get sober. He was a sweet guy, but he wasn't getting any support, and my heart really broke for him. After a particularly bad bender, he called me from another town and said he didn't know where he was and didn't have anywhere to go. He told me that he wanted to get clean but he needed help. I begged my mom to let him stay with us and crash on our couch and she said yes. I took care of Ben while he detoxed. I literally spoon-fed him and walked him to the bathroom. I was probably... 16.
After my second sui attempt, I decided I was going to just stay away from people, basically isolate myself, and try to deal with my shit on my own. But my mom (who was drinking constantly at that point and hiding it from me) didn't like it when I was single, because if I didn't have a boyfriend controlling my life, it meant she actually had to parent me. So she bothered me about dating one of my friends I wasn't really into, and I ended up asking him out just so she would leave me alone about it. Thankfully, he turned out to be kind of boring and only ever wanted to hold my hand and kiss.
His house became kind of a haven for me. He lived close enough that I could walk there, and it was a place where I could get away from my own house for awhile. He lived with his older brother, let's call him Arnold, and Arnold's wife. I went there for game nights a lot. My boyfriend and everyone else in the house were just... not the kind of people I could relate to in any sense, and I felt very out of place, but it was still better than being at home. Arnold was the only person who actually engaged with me and seemed to care about what I had to say (sound familiar?)
But Arnold was in his 30s.
I was 16.
We started hanging out in secret. He would come over and tell me about his wife, how terrible she was to him, and he gave me the textbook 'You're so mature for your age' stuff. This went on for a few weeks, and then he shoved me against a wall and assaulted me. But because I had such a big crush on him, I rationalized it. This went on for months. We saw each other in secret, and he continued to groom me. Keeping the secret isolated me from what few friends I had, and drove an even bigger wedge between me and my mother. Arnold was into kink, and I ended up doing a lot of things that I was uncomfortable with and that were painful in ways I didn't want, because I was afraid of seeming immature (I was immature. I was a fucking kid).
All in all, it was a horrible experience that included a lot of physical brutality, and also a lot of mental and emotional manipulation and abuse that seriously fucked me up. Sometimes he would bring around his son, who was 2 years old, so that whenever I thought about leaving him, I felt guilty because his son had bonded with me.
My mom eventually found out, and I felt like the world was ending. Arnold had made himself the center of my universe, so when it fell apart, I just... couldn't handle it. I freaked out. Ended up in the hospital again. When I got out again, I had absolutely no privacy. I wasn't allowed to be alone. I convinced my mom not to tell anyone about Arnold for the sake of his son (she should have told someone anyway). I became incredibly depressed and apathetic. I felt tired all the time. I just sort of shut down. I did whatever my family told me to do, like a robot, which meant they were finally getting what they wanted from me. Meanwhile, I was just.. not there. Lights were on, nobody home. I thought about Arnold constantly. There was never any meaningful conversation about the way that he manipulated me. There was never any therapy. It just ended, and I was left to handle the emotional fallout alone, while being punished for lying about it and keeping secrets. So that meant more dissociation, more shame. I stopped eating again.
At this point, me and Greg (remember him?) were still sort of friends. I took him to a movie for his birthday, just as friends, and it was... fine. I don't really remember much of it. Brought him back to my place because that was where he left his bike, and my mom was nowhere to be found. My friend Ben, the addict who had been living with us on and off, was also gone. They had left. The house was full of roses and candles. Mom had helped Greg set up a 'romantic surprise' to get us back together, totally without my knowledge or consent, and then left us alone together.
He assaulted me.
I experienced it in a kind of numb, devastated state of shock. He went home, and I scrubbed myself raw in the shower and went to sleep. I told myself that in the morning I would tell Mom I never wanted to see him again, and that would be that. I would cut him out of my life.
But in the morning, my mom was back, and so was Greg, with boxes and suitcases. 'Greg's parents kicked him out, so I told him he could move into our spare room now that you two are back together. Isn't that great? I knew you would be so happy.'
It was like a nightmare. It was so surreal. Greg just started telling people we were dating again. It didn't matter what I said to the contrary, because at that point I was just the fragile crazy person, and everyone thought Greg was a saint who was 'taking care of me.' Like I was a charity case. Mom told Greg about Arnold without my permission. And now that Greg was around all the time to monitor and control me, she checked out again.
I spent months constantly evading Greg's sexual advances. I told him that I couldn't have sex because I was recovering from my trauma over Arnold, and he feigned understanding, but he always had his hands on me. He physically clung to me so much that it often made people uncomfortable to be around us. But I was so depressed and exhausted it was all I could do to maintain my basic safety in my own house. I was treading water. I wanted to d!e so badly, but I was too exhausted to do that, either, and anyway I was never alone. There were several times when I locked myself into my room because I was afraid that Greg would assault me again. He constantly tried to redraw my boundaries, trying to convince me that I owed him sex because he was 'keeping me safe.' I would try to tell my mom that I was afraid of him, but then he would go to her and cry about how much he cared about me and how worried he was, and she fell for it every time.
Then Jenny showed up: a woman in her twenties I knew through church friends. She started hanging around at our house after church functions, and we became friends, and it seemed like she was the only person who actually saw what was happening in my house. One day she took me out for ice cream and asked me if I was okay, and I just broke down. I told her everything, and she was so angry on my behalf, and that felt so good. It felt good for someone to actually see that what I was going through was wrong, and that I needed help.
She kissed me. She really shouldn't have done that.
I was seventeen, and she was twenty four.
But she scared Greg away. He moved out, and I felt like I owed everything to her. I felt like she saved me. I really loved her, and she at least thought that she really loved me, too. She was smart, she wasn't physically abusive, she didn't assault me. So my mom just kind of let it happen even though she was too old for me. Again and again my mom seemed to prove that she didn't care what happened to me as long as it meant she didn't have to take care of her damaged child. As long as I was someone else's problem.
Mom finally told me that she was drinking and abusing pills. She also told me that she had been sleeping with Ben - my addict friend, two years older than me, the one I had spoon fed, the one I begged her to let stay with us. So yeah, that was pretty fucked up. My relationship with my mom basically evaporated. All trust was destroyed.
I devoted myself to Jenny for years. We moved in together after I turned 18. It was good for awhile. She was romantic and sweet. But it was unstable. She expected me to be an adult partner, and when I couldn't do that, she got angry with me. She only slapped me once, but it was enough to sour everything. And she took her anger out on me in other ways. She was often verbally abusive, and cut me down at every opportunity. Things became volatile and then collapsed, and we agreed to part ways. It was all just.... really fucking sad.
As that relationship was failing and I was once again floundering and incredibly vulnerable, guess who materialized again?
Arnold.
Fucking Arnold, the 30-something year old creep who groomed me in my own house.
'I'm so sorry for how things happened between us. I hurt you. But you're older now, and I've done a lot of work on myself, and I think we could be good together. And you're alone right now. You don't have anyone else.'
He was right, in a way. I didn't have anyone else. He showed up to the house while Jenny packed her stuff around me, and he asked me over and over again until I gave in.
I moved to another city to get away from all the hurt in my hometown, but I spent a lot of the money I made at my shitty diner job trying to help Arnold. He eventually moved to the same city, and continued manipulating, assaulting, and abusing me for a year.
Thankfully, moving to a new city blessed me with real, genuine, heartfelt friends who eventually helped me to achieve the clarity that I needed. I had a very painful mental breakdown, broke up with Arnold, and told our friends that he was an abuser. He went back to our hometown.
That was maybe two years ago.
I've spent almost all my time since then dealing with Covid in a big city. I have my wonderful partner, Rose, and things are good with her. Like... so good sometimes I can't believe it's real. Like really, actually good. Healthy. Safe. Joyful. Simple. Good communication. All that good stuff. But I still have all of this trauma just... in me. It exists in my body in a very physical way. Sometimes it manifests as pain. Often random, intense waves of nausea. Sometimes, I can't experience sexual arousal even in consensual contexts (even alone!) without immediately feeling sick to my stomach. I'm just profoundly depressed, and tired all the time, and I have all of this terrifyingly big anger in my body that has nowhere to go.
I've spent what feels like my whole life being abused. My brain is fucked. My body hurts all the time. I either don't sleep at all, or all I do is sleep. I'm medicated for depression, but it only does so much. Rose is such a supportive, understanding partner, but it's not her job to take care of me. I have to figure out how to be okay now. I've started to think about my life in terms of 'before' and 'after,' but I don't know what the fuck to do with myself now that I'm in the 'after' part. Where the hell do I go from here? I don't think normalcy is really possible for me considering everything. I'm pretty sure I will always be some flavor of fucked up. How do I become... okay with that? What the fuck am I supposed to do now??
submitted byHunnieBuggtoptsd [link][comments]My story starts young, it's long, it's ugly, and it's kind of nuts. Honestly it's the kind of story that I would consider 'too much' or 'overkill' if I read it in a book. The scope of it is just bewildering. I won't write any graphic descriptions of events, of course, but please heed the TWs, and don't read this as a way to hurt yourself. Take breaks, or stop if you need to. Please be good to yourself. And if there are any TWs I should add to this, please let me know and I'll do that.
I'm not sure what I'm looking for, really. Maybe validation? I don't know. There's just so much of it that I don't know what to do with myself. I only just recently got away from my last abuser, and had this moment of startling clarity where I realized I've been in a self-protective state of autopilot for like... most of my life. It's like when you're really drunk inside a bar, like a little uncomfortably drunk, and then you step outside and the air is really clean and cold and quiet and you kind of come to earth all at once. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here's the basics of who I am: I'm 24, transmasc, queer, unemployed since the global panini, and I have chronic pain that limits my mobility.
Anyway here goes I guess????
Both my parents were addicts, both profoundly mentally ill. Mom has depression and anxiety, and her own trauma issues. Dad is schizophrenic. Both are alcoholics and abused painkillers, but Dad also did some more serious drugs. I was kind of fucked from day one. I will say, Mom is now 6 years clean and sober. I don't know where my Dad is really, but he was also clean and sober last I heard. But I didn't exactly win the hereditary mental health lottery, if you catch my drift.
Mom got sober for the first time when she found out she was pregnant. She started nursing school. Raised me pretty much solo, but Dad would show up every once in awhile and sometimes 'babysat.' But at one point, when I was a little over a year old, Mom came home from late classes and found him and a bunch of hid buddies passed out in the apartment, drugs everywhere, and me in the hallway alone in a full diaper, crying, and chewing on a straw someone had been using to do some kind of hard drugs. It could have been really bad. He wasn't allowed to be alone with me after that. Eventually, I didn't really see him at all.
When I was three, Mom started dating another guy, and he was really helpful with the parenting thing, and they got engaged. I called the new guy my Dad. We moved out to the middle of nowhere with him and got a dog and everything. I loved his parents, they treated me like I really was their grandkid. But he r-ped me. I told my mom and thank G-d she believed me. I'm really glad she taught me how to talk about my body from a young age, so I could explain what had happened. But I was really little, so it was hard for me to wrap my head around what happened and why. I had to leave the house that I liked, and my grandparents, and my dog, and a bunch of my stuff, and it was sad and I was just confused. My mom kind of fell apart (I mean of course she did, it was as much a trauma event for her as it was for me) and we lived with my grandmother for awhile. Mom and I started to co-sleep, and she was really protective of me and we got super attached. Even when I slept in my own bed, I would have really bad nightmares, and sometimes I would sleep walk into her room and wake up in her bed. Other times, she was the one having nightmares and she would come get me, because if I wasn't with her, she was just scared that I wasn't safe.
I definitely grew up with the sense that my mom was fragile and we had to take care of each other. It was us against the world.
When I was six, I was molested by a neighbor boy who was a few years older than me. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to get in trouble for playing in a part of the yard where we weren't supposed to be (I was pretty scared of my grandmother at that age). I didn't tell anyone for years, after the kid and his family had already moved away. I think as a child, part of me was afraid that if I said something, my whole life would get uprooted again.
I went through the usual shit in school, growing up as a girl. Boys pushing me around, grabbing me, chasing me. I didn't think much of it, but of course with everything else I'd already gone through it didn't help, and it created this sense of normalcy around having my bodily autonomy taken away and my boundaries ignored. I also definitely grew up in a 'Don't be rude, give grandpa a kiss' kind of family.
I was a weird nerdy little kid and I was always kind of wibbly on gender stuff. I cut my hair short pretty young and got asked if I was a girl or a boy a lot. My first 'boyfriend' in middle school was really weird and pushy about sex, and wanted to talk about it all the time. He never actually pressured me to have sex with him, but he would say things like 'Girls should always shave their pubes, just in case it happens.' He took me up to his room once and showed me his porn stash, and all the pictures were of large-breasted, tan, shiny blonde women with zero body hair. I remember thinking 'If this is what he likes, why is he with me? Is this what he thinks I should look like?' It was a weird experience and didn't leave me feeling great about myself.
The next guy I dated at that age was really nice, but it fell apart because he wasn't pushy about sex, and I thought that meant he didn't like me. I ended up making him uncomfortable because my ideas about what it meant for a boy to like me were all fucked up already.
Things got gross again when I was fourteen. I met a seventeen year old guy at a small comic book convention thing, and he was really nice to me and wanted to like... hear about my interests and read my writing, and at that point I didn't really have good friends and I felt invisible, so having him pay attention to me and care about what I had to say felt really good. We ended up in a long distance relationship, and things went south fast. Of course they did, he was 17. He texted me constantly, told me all of his fantasies about me, some of which were honestly really violent, and became very controlling. He wanted to know where I was and who I was with all the time, and would pressure me to give up on my interests like theater and choir so I could spend more time talking to him. He threatened me a lot. But he was super manipulative, and made me feel like if I left him, I wouldn't have anyone. He pressured me into sending him nudes (remember, I was 14!!!!) and when my mom found out, instead of trying to protect me, she just got angry at me. That started a several-years-long cycle of my mom slut shaming me and constantly monitoring my phone, reading my diaries, getting into my social media, etc. It didn't stop me from getting hurt, it just made me really good at hiding things from her.
I did that whole break-up-get-back-together-break-up-get-back-together thing with that guy for a long time (meaning at one point he was an adult and I was still a child). I got shamed for it, but no one in my life ever actually tried to stop what was happening. I actually saw him in person several times. At one point he physically chased me through a convention hall and threatened to throw me down a flight of stairs.
After that, I started high school and started dating a guy one grade ahead of me. (He's gonna come up again, so let's call him Greg). My mom was like 'Okay, finally, something normal.' Except he turned out to be creepy possessive and jealous. But he was polite, so my mom absolutely loved him, no matter what I told her. After we started having sex, it was suddenly all Greg wanted, all the time. I became this object that he could use to live out fantasies, rather than a partner to have experiences with. I was basically a sex doll that helped him with his English papers. I was the only girl in his circle of weird nerd friends, and they all objectified me constantly. The first time I ever gave him a blowjob, it was in a room with two of his friends, who made comments the whole time. I was always getting grabbed and groped and cornered. It was so constant that it just became my normal. It was like I zoned out from all of it, all the time. I wasn't really present in my own body. And of course it's easy to say 'Why didn't you just stop hanging out with them?' But I was weird and queer and profoundly depressed, and I didn't have anyone else. I also didn't value myself enough to care about how they treated me. By that time, there were already rumors going around that I was a slut, so in everyone else's eyes, it didn't matter what happened to me because I was used goods. There was nothing left in me to protect.
Even now, in a healthy partnership with a woman I love who is endlessly good to and for me, I still feel that shame, and I still struggle to be present in my body. It makes intimacy really hard. Even with someone I love, as soon as someone touches me, my brain's like 'Okay, time to go into screensaver mode now.' It's either that, or I get flashbacks.
My first girlfriend was a super Christian girl who broke up with me because she 'got healed of her homosexuality.' That was rough.
High school was honestly just a blur of abuse at the hands of the boys and men in my life. I was constantly fending off (or failing to fend off, or too exhausted and depressed to fend off) the advances of boys who had social power over me, or men who had no business being around me at all. I was assaulted so many times. I honestly don't know how many, because at the time, it had become so normal to me that I didn't even register it anymore. I also dissociated from a lot of those experiences, and some of it is hard to remember. The memories kind of float together, and thinking about my high school years just becomes this indistinct blur of pain. I was hospitalized twice for trying to unalive myself. My family was just ashamed that people knew, and desperate to maintain an appearance of normalcy. I developed anorexia because that was the only way I could have any control over my body. I still struggle with disordered eating now.
I was also dealing with other heavy stuff. One of my friends, let's say Ben, was two years older than me, and he was an addict and kept getting kicked out of his parents house because he couldn't get sober. He was a sweet guy, but he wasn't getting any support, and my heart really broke for him. After a particularly bad bender, he called me from another town and said he didn't know where he was and didn't have anywhere to go. He told me that he wanted to get clean but he needed help. I begged my mom to let him stay with us and crash on our couch and she said yes. I took care of Ben while he detoxed. I literally spoon-fed him and walked him to the bathroom. I was probably... 16.
After my second sui attempt, I decided I was going to just stay away from people, basically isolate myself, and try to deal with my shit on my own. But my mom (who was drinking constantly at that point and hiding it from me) didn't like it when I was single, because if I didn't have a boyfriend controlling my life, it meant she actually had to parent me. So she bothered me about dating one of my friends I wasn't really into, and I ended up asking him out just so she would leave me alone about it. Thankfully, he turned out to be kind of boring and only ever wanted to hold my hand and kiss.
His house became kind of a haven for me. He lived close enough that I could walk there, and it was a place where I could get away from my own house for awhile. He lived with his older brother, let's call him Arnold, and Arnold's wife. I went there for game nights a lot. My boyfriend and everyone else in the house were just... not the kind of people I could relate to in any sense, and I felt very out of place, but it was still better than being at home. Arnold was the only person who actually engaged with me and seemed to care about what I had to say (sound familiar?)
But Arnold was in his 30s.
I was 16.
We started hanging out in secret. He would come over and tell me about his wife, how terrible she was to him, and he gave me the textbook 'You're so mature for your age' stuff. This went on for a few weeks, and then he shoved me against a wall and assaulted me. But because I had such a big crush on him, I rationalized it. This went on for months. We saw each other in secret, and he continued to groom me. Keeping the secret isolated me from what few friends I had, and drove an even bigger wedge between me and my mother. Arnold was into kink, and I ended up doing a lot of things that I was uncomfortable with and that were painful in ways I didn't want, because I was afraid of seeming immature (I was immature. I was a fucking kid).
All in all, it was a horrible experience that included a lot of physical brutality, and also a lot of mental and emotional manipulation and abuse that seriously fucked me up. Sometimes he would bring around his son, who was 2 years old, so that whenever I thought about leaving him, I felt guilty because his son had bonded with me.
My mom eventually found out, and I felt like the world was ending. Arnold had made himself the center of my universe, so when it fell apart, I just... couldn't handle it. I freaked out. Ended up in the hospital again. When I got out again, I had absolutely no privacy. I wasn't allowed to be alone. I convinced my mom not to tell anyone about Arnold for the sake of his son (she should have told someone anyway). I became incredibly depressed and apathetic. I felt tired all the time. I just sort of shut down. I did whatever my family told me to do, like a robot, which meant they were finally getting what they wanted from me. Meanwhile, I was just.. not there. Lights were on, nobody home. I thought about Arnold constantly. There was never any meaningful conversation about the way that he manipulated me. There was never any therapy. It just ended, and I was left to handle the emotional fallout alone, while being punished for lying about it and keeping secrets. So that meant more dissociation, more shame. I stopped eating again.
At this point, me and Greg (remember him?) were still sort of friends. I took him to a movie for his birthday, just as friends, and it was... fine. I don't really remember much of it. Brought him back to my place because that was where he left his bike, and my mom was nowhere to be found. My friend Ben, the addict who had been living with us on and off, was also gone. They had left. The house was full of roses and candles. Mom had helped Greg set up a 'romantic surprise' to get us back together, totally without my knowledge or consent, and then left us alone together.
He assaulted me.
I experienced it in a kind of numb, devastated state of shock. He went home, and I scrubbed myself raw in the shower and went to sleep. I told myself that in the morning I would tell Mom I never wanted to see him again, and that would be that. I would cut him out of my life.
But in the morning, my mom was back, and so was Greg, with boxes and suitcases. 'Greg's parents kicked him out, so I told him he could move into our spare room now that you two are back together. Isn't that great? I knew you would be so happy.'
It was like a nightmare. It was so surreal. Greg just started telling people we were dating again. It didn't matter what I said to the contrary, because at that point I was just the fragile crazy person, and everyone thought Greg was a saint who was 'taking care of me.' Like I was a charity case. Mom told Greg about Arnold without my permission. And now that Greg was around all the time to monitor and control me, she checked out again.
I spent months constantly evading Greg's sexual advances. I told him that I couldn't have sex because I was recovering from my trauma over Arnold, and he feigned understanding, but he always had his hands on me. He physically clung to me so much that it often made people uncomfortable to be around us. But I was so depressed and exhausted it was all I could do to maintain my basic safety in my own house. I was treading water. I wanted to d!e so badly, but I was too exhausted to do that, either, and anyway I was never alone. There were several times when I locked myself into my room because I was afraid that Greg would assault me again. He constantly tried to redraw my boundaries, trying to convince me that I owed him sex because he was 'keeping me safe.' I would try to tell my mom that I was afraid of him, but then he would go to her and cry about how much he cared about me and how worried he was, and she fell for it every time.
Then Jenny showed up: a woman in her twenties I knew through church friends. She started hanging around at our house after church functions, and we became friends, and it seemed like she was the only person who actually saw what was happening in my house. One day she took me out for ice cream and asked me if I was okay, and I just broke down. I told her everything, and she was so angry on my behalf, and that felt so good. It felt good for someone to actually see that what I was going through was wrong, and that I needed help.
She kissed me. She really shouldn't have done that.
I was seventeen, and she was twenty four.
But she scared Greg away. He moved out, and I felt like I owed everything to her. I felt like she saved me. I really loved her, and she at least thought that she really loved me, too. She was smart, she wasn't physically abusive, she didn't assault me. So my mom just kind of let it happen even though she was too old for me. Again and again my mom seemed to prove that she didn't care what happened to me as long as it meant she didn't have to take care of her damaged child. As long as I was someone else's problem.
Mom finally told me that she was drinking and abusing pills. She also told me that she had been sleeping with Ben - my addict friend, two years older than me, the one I had spoon fed, the one I begged her to let stay with us. So yeah, that was pretty fucked up. My relationship with my mom basically evaporated. All trust was destroyed.
I devoted myself to Jenny for years. We moved in together after I turned 18. It was good for awhile. She was romantic and sweet. But it was unstable. She expected me to be an adult partner, and when I couldn't do that, she got angry with me. She only slapped me once, but it was enough to sour everything. And she took her anger out on me in other ways. She was often verbally abusive, and cut me down at every opportunity. Things became volatile and then collapsed, and we agreed to part ways. It was all just.... really fucking sad.
As that relationship was failing and I was once again floundering and incredibly vulnerable, guess who materialized again?
Arnold.
Fucking Arnold, the 30-something year old creep who groomed me in my own house.
'I'm so sorry for how things happened between us. I hurt you. But you're older now, and I've done a lot of work on myself, and I think we could be good together. And you're alone right now. You don't have anyone else.'
He was right, in a way. I didn't have anyone else. He showed up to the house while Jenny packed her stuff around me, and he asked me over and over again until I gave in.
I moved to another city to get away from all the hurt in my hometown, but I spent a lot of the money I made at my shitty diner job trying to help Arnold. He eventually moved to the same city, and continued manipulating, assaulting, and abusing me for a year.
Thankfully, moving to a new city blessed me with real, genuine, heartfelt friends who eventually helped me to achieve the clarity that I needed. I had a very painful mental breakdown, broke up with Arnold, and told our friends that he was an abuser. He went back to our hometown.
That was maybe two years ago.
I've spent almost all my time since then dealing with Covid in a big city. I have my wonderful partner, Rose, and things are good with her. Like... so good sometimes I can't believe it's real. Like really, actually good. Healthy. Safe. Joyful. Simple. Good communication. All that good stuff. But I still have all of this trauma just... in me. It exists in my body in a very physical way. Sometimes it manifests as pain. Often random, intense waves of nausea. Sometimes, I can't experience sexual arousal even in consensual contexts (even alone!) without immediately feeling sick to my stomach. I'm just profoundly depressed, and tired all the time, and I have all of this terrifyingly big anger in my body that has nowhere to go.
I've spent what feels like my whole life being abused. My brain is fucked. My body hurts all the time. I either don't sleep at all, or all I do is sleep. I'm medicated for depression, but it only does so much. Rose is such a supportive, understanding partner, but it's not her job to take care of me. I have to figure out how to be okay now. I've started to think about my life in terms of 'before' and 'after,' but I don't know what the fuck to do with myself now that I'm in the 'after' part. Where the hell do I go from here? I don't think normalcy is really possible for me considering everything. I'm pretty sure I will always be some flavor of fucked up. How do I become... okay with that? What the fuck am I supposed to do now??
2021.12.21 11:40 Gojira2021Rewriting Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach Part 2 (Major Spoilers!!)
Well, I didn't expect my rewritten work for FNAF SB would've been received so positively, but thank you guys so much! Now, I'm back with Part 2, and this one is going to get crazy and dark, but I'm hoping it would fix the scattered bits of lore we get in the actual game. I'm also going to be implementing the multiple endings, one of which changes on what final location you guys would find the most appealing. Anyway, enough chitchat! Let's get back to where we left off.- Before we find out what happened to Gregory, we get a flashback to where Vanessa and her therapist are talking, and the therapist, who will now be known as Ms. Fitzgerald, the aunt of Jeremy Fitzgerald, the beta tester who cut off his face in FNAF VR. Ms. Fitzgerald hears some children getting some ice cream outside and asks Vanessa if she wants some, but Vanessa just says quietly, 'I-I don't like ice cream. It reminds of bad memories. My... family'. Ms. Fitzgerald calls Vanessa out on her lie, saying that she loves ice cream and had a great life, but Vanessa suddenly snaps in rage and looms over the therapist, shouting, 'I don't like ice cream, okay?! I don't like dark basements, and I don't want to talk about my family! I just want to make my father proud!' Ms. Fitzgerald sighs and stands up, placing a hand on Vanessa's shoulder, and says, 'I'm sorry, okay? Now, let's talk about your father, Vanessa.' There's something more going on with Vanessa than we initially thought.
- When we find Gregory, he wakes up in Vanny's hideout above Fazer Blast, except it's now much larger and sprawling with hundreds of notes about trying to restore someone back to life while newspapers dating back several decades litter the floor, including Fredbear's Family Diner, Circus Baby Pizza World, and multiple Fazbear restaurants. Vanny enters the room, dragging Freddy in before taking off her mask, revealing none other than Vanessa, but something is slightly different about how she looks; she has a small gap between her two front teeth, similar to how the first Vanessa model in the second trailer looks. And her very glitched voice sounds very similar to someone we already know that's not Vanessa. She says she'll let Gregory out, but she now has full control over Freddy using a purple glowing USB, and if Gregory gets caught, Vanny will take him to the naughty place.
- Freddy Boss Battle throughout Fazer Blast, using the Fazer Blaster to zap him back to normal
- We finish the Boss Battle and push Freddy off a higher-level platform after zapping him enough times, breaking the glitch's control, but now he is even more broken and losing power. Most likely, he will not survive the night. Suddenly, a corrupted Staff Bot appears and slashes Gregory's left shoulder and is about to kill him when, suddenly, the masked figure from earlier arrives and slices the robot's head clean off with his axe before taking off his mask, revealing a rotten, slightly burned, purple corpse beneath. Yep, everyone, it's Michael Afton!
- It's revealed that in the FNAF 6 fire, Henry sacrificed himself to hold William back long enough to let Michael escape, but when he heard of a severely burned man exploding in Fazbear Distribution Center, he knew he had to return to put his father down, and any other animatronics left alive, forever! Michael tells Gregory and Freddy, who seems shocked to see him for an unknown reason, that he has Vanessa tied up in a secret hideout, and he leads them to a secret hidden room underneath the PizzaPlex. Where is it? The hidden room that looks eerily similar to the one from Sister Location.
- Vanessa had no idea what happened and why they think she's Vanny when Gregory tells her she was the one in the costume who knocked him out and turned Freddy against him. She's surprised as she says she went to try and get the power back on to stop Moondrop when she blacked out, but Michael interjects and says that was true. So now, there are TWO Vanessas running about the building!! Michael lets her out and explains who he is, the son of William Afton, the reason for his brother's death, and how he tried to save his sister and mother only to be scooped and turned into a monster himself. In the hidden room, there are old, damaged Staff Bots sitting around a table with clothes and hair reminiscent of the Afton Family, even with the mother having a similar look to Ballora, confirming her as the mother, the younger sister having red pigtails, the younger brother with a striped shirt and caved-in head, and the father wearing a crudely made Springtrap head. Even on the television are old family videos showing the family when they were happy. Before the chaos and tragedy. Before the deaths, that followed.
- Suddenly, the white rabbit, Vanny appears, knocks out Michael and Vanessa before charging at Gregory, screaming at how he's ruining everything when Freddy jumps in front of him, protecting, allowing her to tear into Freddy with a meat cleaver, killing him with no remorse ripping his endo to shreds. We have a heartfelt moment as we turn around and pick up Michael's axe, leaving us to have a final boss battle with her. Now it’s personal! We enter a special hidden Red Room where Vanny is dancing creepily as we saw in the trailers and when we brawl, we fight tooth and nail, slashing, punching, biting, and kicking one another until Gregory manages to kick off Vanny’s bunny mask, revealing the second Vanessa once again when the first Vanessa wakes up and sees her double about to kill Gregory. She scrambles to put it back on, but Freddy appears once more, now missing an arm, and grabs Vanny by her throat before throwing her into a wall, knocking her out. The Gang questions her and she tells them to go underground if we want to know the true secrets; this is where the first ending comes into play. Gregory has the choice to either leave the PizzaPlex and leave the fight to the adults or stay and avenge the death of his friends and free the other animatronics from this mysterious glitch.
- If we leave the PizzaPlex Ending (Gregory's ending 1)
- If we choose to leave and never come back, the ending is Gregory is now at home after being found by police and is watching the news regarding how the PizzaPlex mysterious exploded overnight and burned to ashes. What's worse is that the police found 2 bodies matching the descriptions of both Vanessa and Michael, along with the bodies of Gregory's friends. That night, while we sleep, Vanny sneaks into our room, this time now with purple eyes instead of red and covered in blood, implied to be our parents' blood.
- If we choose to stay. (The game will continue to progress, although now, you have more freedom to explore and uncover secrets)
- Here we have another choice, and I thought it would be a very cool thing if Steel Wool actually made two versions of the game, each one with a different final battle location which would then allow even more lore to be revealed without it either being shoehorned in or just not there in general.
- The Gang venture underground and more information is given about why Glamrock Freddy is different from the others, as well as what the hell is even happening. It's revealed that in the same fire from FNAF 6, Charlie or the Puppet managed to transfer her soul from Lefty into Glamrock Freddy, because Fazbear Entertainment scanned the motherboards from Lefty after the fire into Freddy because of Lefty's apparent caretaking nature to children. Charlie, now inside Glamrock Freddy, heard Gregory's screams in the beginning, and immediately knew it was because of William. It seems that the only people who died inside the FNAF 6 fire were Henry and Molten Freddy. Suddenly, Vanny starts giggling and her eyes are glowing purple when she starts trying to grab Gregory when Freddy grabs her and whispers to her in Charlotte's voice, 'Do you remember me, William? I sure remember you! You might've taken my life, but I won't let you hurt anyone else! You're not going to anyone anymore, you monster!' before screaming in a child-like voice. The scream manages to wake Vanessa up, but not enough to rid her of Glitchtrap's infection.
- Fredbear's Family Diner Ending (FNAF: Security Breach Version 1)
- The Gang, all armed with weapons, travel down a service elevator to discover a massive cavern beneath the PizzaPlex and all the Glamrock animatronics and various other antagonists, including the Glamrock Endos and Moondrop. As the group fights the endo army and one is about to attack Gregory, Sunrise suddenly appears and jumps in the way, taking a stab to the chest and dying only moments after, saying to Gregory just before he shuts down, 'G-Gregory, you are unbanned from the daycare...'
- After that, the group stumbles upon the buried but still standing remains of the first-ever location in this universe, Fredbear's Family Diner. Michael immediately gets emotional and looks away in shame as they explore the location, uncovering the layout of the building and learning more about the lore, including the story of how Charlie died and became the puppet, William first killing the 5 children, and of course, Michael getting his brother killed by stuffing his head inside Fredbear's mouth, an event we all know as the Bite of 83. So much carnage at the hands of William. Suddenly, Vanny appears once again and lures them back outside the location to see her at a sacrificial altar surrounded by dead children and discarded animatronics with a Princess Quest arcade glowing a bright purple. She tells us the only way to bring him back is by the souls of kids revealing what’s been happening to all the missing kids.
- Suddenly, Glitchtrap manifests and tries to possess Vanessa once more(his voice once again done by PJ Heywood), but Michael and Freddy protect her and call William out once again, saying they'll always be there when he returns to stop him. Gregory stands in the center and yells at William, 'Why me? Why do you want me so damn bad?' Glitchtrap looks at Michael with seething rage and says, 'Why don't you tell him, Michael?' and Michael responds, 'Because you look like him, Gregory. You look like Evan before he died. Before I got him killed.' It's revealed that the reason Glitchtrap wants Gregory so badly is that he wants a new body, but once seeing that Gregory looks so much like Evan (The Crying Child), he realized he wanted his son back. He wanted his family back. If his mind is in a body that looks so much like his son, Glitchtrap would, in a sick, sadistic way, get his son back.
- Vanny attempts to grab Gregory (half of her mask is ripped) showing a creepy half Vanny/Vanessa look with her mouth cut open from our previous boss fight with her. We then once again, defeat and Stab Vanny with her own knife, but the transferring has been complete and Glitchtrap finally emerges from the arcade machine as an amalgamation of a trash meat bunny monster reaching nearly 50 feet in height and coated in various pieces of old animatronic parts. Welcome, the Afton Amalgamation! However, it isn't over just yet. Glitchtrap cheers at his new physical body before looking at Vanny and says something terrifying, 'I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You've always been good at pretending. Well, now you can show yourself to them, Elizabeth.' The group looks on in horror as she gets back, but her eyes are glowing a bright green and her body begins to glitch and morph violently until revealing her true form to the group... Circus Baby!
- 'I told you I'd make you proud, daddy. Now we can put our family back together again...' Elizabeth chuckles as a broken, withered FNAF AR form of Circus Baby, once again voiced by Heather Masters.
submitted byGojira2021tofivenightsatfreddys [link][comments]
2021.12.21 06:38 Andreas_Corell1Seven years ago my sister disappeared; I finally found her.
PART 1
It all started when I was 14 years old, the girl I was dating cancelled my last minute movie date. I don't even remember what movie it was, only that my plans to kiss her were ruined at that moment, until my sister, Lucero insistently knocked on the bathroom door, where I was just touching up my last hair of my hairstyle, crying and feeling disgusted with myself, everything was supposed to be going great, or at least that's what I thought?
- Are you living off the toilet now, Brael? Get out at once.
- Go away, Lucero. Don't be a nuisance.
- Come on Braer, I want to go to the bathroom, I can't stand it anymore.
- Can you leave me alone Luz? Hold on a little, please.
- I see, what happened Braer?
- Nothing, nothing.
- Come on, tell the women's expert what happened.
- You're not an expert on women.
- Yes, I am.
- Of course you're not.
- How do you know that?
- You're barely turning 13, and you're just as experienced as I am in this love thing.
- Do you want me to show you my lady expert badge or what?
- Send it under the door, then.
- Ash, don't be a bastard Braerl, remember I dated someone older.
- The one who wanted to have sex with you and leave?
- The one...
- The one you cried for almost a month because he used you and left with the first girl he saw?
- Yeah, look, you're pushing it, Braerl. You don't want to make your sweet, innocent little sister cry, do you?
- I think I do.
- Son of a bitch, I'm done, I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna blow and when I blow, I'm gonna blow this door down. You hear me?
- Don't run out of lungs. Was I right? I don't want to get in trouble with mom.
- One, two and... - A stampede slammed the door, knocking me off my feet.
- You said you'd blow Light.
- First rule of understanding women my age, don't believe the first thing they tell you.
- That's cheating.
- I'm not saying no, and if you don't come out on the count of three, I swear by all the saints I'll kick that damn door down and kick your damn ass -I opened the door with a bang, managing to dodge my sister's brutal lunge that ended up hitting the wall.
- You're a bastard,' she cursed, rubbing her forehead with her left hand.
- Little bottle of sherry, everything you say will be the other way around.
- Too childish Braerl, that's why Alondra cancelled you.
- You crossed the line Luz, don't talk to me again.
I locked myself in my room and lay down on the bed, it had been a long time since I felt unhappy, defeated and stupid. I had a terrible attitude with my sister who hadn't done anything to me in the past, because she knows how easy she makes me cranky with her sarcasm every 5 minutes. A light knock-knock-knock, caressing my bedroom door, seemed far away.
- Hey, Braerl - I kept to myself, not answering, not making any noise.
- Oh, sorry. I didn't know you liked that girl so much
The silence between his sincerity and my apathy had built an invisible wall, where the light struggled to penetrate.
- Come on Brael, I know I was out of line, but you started it with that guy... but I followed him, I admit it.
Still nothing, my pride or maybe it was more my disappointment that kept me from responding.
- I'm going to hate myself for this, but I can go with you Brael.
- What?
- Don't make me repeat myself twice, please.
- How about I give you the tickets and you go out with some fuckboy?
- I don't talk to fuckboys anymore, Brael. Please, do you think that after being used as a third rate toy I'd still fall for the same tricks of those fuckboys?
- As a matter of fact, I do.
- I confess, yes. You're right, I haven't been able to get out of this shit spiral.
- It's not my problem. Just let me suffer in peace.
- Fuck Brael! - he drops his fist on the wood of the door - You know that once I start something, I can't stop until I finish it.
- Luz, it's that...
- It's nothing, now you get out of bed, wet your face and invite your little sister to the movies to listen to her love problems.
- Come on, you want to - I answered still discouraged, with an empty stomach and a lump in my throat.
'Although maybe, on second thought, she's got a point' I thought.
- Just to remind you, I will not admit and forget the advice you give me. you hear?
- Sure and strong ugly girl.
- Who are you calling ugly, toad face?
PART 2
The cinema we arrived at, is a local movie theater in town, which is well known and loved by the community. My parents built their history here and many friends wrote their first kisses inside empty halls in boring movies, others on the other hand, took a chance and stuck their hand in family movies, apparently I was the only haunted one who was destined to go to the movies with his little sister until she gets a boyfriend and it's my turn to go alone.
- Wow!
- What's going on?
- There are a lot of people at the movies.
- Is that what surprises you?
- Actually, no - he smiled sarcastically - we've been dating for a long time, Braerl.
- Don't tell me you're getting sentimental already.
- I don't know, maybe...
- Aha.
- You have to learn to guess what a girl wants through her body language Braerl.
- But I already know what you want.
- And what do I want?
- Some caramel popcorn and an apple soda.
- Damn it, you know me like the back of your hand!
- I've known toadhead for 13 years, now go and line up at the box office.
- I'm coming, radish head.
For some reason she had forgotten she already had the tickets beforehand, but I found it funny to see her standing there waiting for the moment for her short brain to click. The theater was a little crowded, the Divergent movie had been released a week ago, and me having made up tastes that didn't suit me to get a girl to like me who is most likely with another guy, or maybe not, took its toll on me. The guy who served me was friendly and helpful, as usual, and just at that moment when I was leaving to put sauce on my popcorn, I turned to look at my sister, in the middle of the lobby, watching me like a wave that is about to reach the city. I just nodded my head, pointing towards the entrance to the movie theater. We ran into each other just as I was handing over the tickets to be checked.
- Is something wrong?
- No, nothing.
- First rule when dating guys: pay attention to what they say.
- Is that it?
- Were you expecting advice that would explain the man's mind? I guess not.
- At least you would have given me a worthwhile piece of advice.
- What I told you isn't worth it?
- Well, I think it is.
- Life advice: don't be so haughty with your brother.
- Tuche, brother.
Our room was room 9, and it was down the hall. The change of atmosphere between the lobby and the hallway is something I'll never get used to. The lobby with warm colors, pleasant lights, and full of life, while the hallway with cold colors, monotonous lights and a world that seems dead for a century. We walked in silence, looking away once in a while to observe the movies that were on their way, the ones that had already arrived and the ones that we would never see. Without wanting to, and without knowing, we were both walking towards our destination, the anomaly of March 29, 2014, the disappearance of Lucero Argelia de la Cruz Montes. My sister.
PART 3
As we walked through that door the movie had already started. Dialogues and music were coming to us as we walked to get up to our seats. There was a row of white lights that went up with each step and marked the row with a letter of the alphabet. I chose the last seats, which were all the way to the top. Why? Well, I had my plans to kiss this girl and I hoped she was wearing a skirt, the rest I guess you can imagine. With each step up, I remembered the messages we sent each other every early morning, the songs we hummed on every outing, the linking of our fingers and a kiss on the cheek.
- Don't get left behind, monkey head - my sister interrupted the alternate futures I was imagining in my head.
- Shhh - answered someone unknown between the seats.
- Don't tell me shhh, what's wrong with you.
- Come on, let's keep going up, we are almost there.
Surprisingly, when we sat down, he made as little noise as possible. Lucero sometimes tends to be so unpredictable that he drives me out of my mind. The movie went normally, my sister got me to talk to her on several occasions and I enjoyed her company again. It had been a long time since I had a real talk with her, many times we move away, even if it is only a few centimeters from our siblings, who grow at our pace, but we move away, looking for our own individuality, forgetting that we can only find ourselves, in their look, in their affection and in watching them grow up.
Halfway through the movie, the popcorn had run out, however, at this local movie theater when you bought certain combos, you could go and refill another round of popcorn. I grabbed the container when my sister grabbed my wrist with some force.
- Fourth rule kid, women have initiative too. You don't have to be chivalrous all the time.
- In fact, it's the third rule.
- Fifth rule! I don't remember asking your opinion.
- You win, I give up. Go get the popcorn then, I left the ticket in there. Careful, you won't fall.
- Did you know that when you tell a person not to do something they end up doing it?
- This one, I guess it doesn't apply to everyone.
- Yes, it does! If I fall it will be your fault.
- Break a leg!
- That sounds better! I'll be right back. - she slowly and cautiously left the seat, stealthily walking across the room and taking care of every step on every step, I watched her lose herself in the darkness of the room, I watched her silhouette turn to enter the unknown. I returned my attention to the film, I became so interested in it that I somehow lost track of time. At some point I yawned and squinted, when I thought I heard my sister's laughter. I turned to her seat, but she hadn't arrived yet, maybe she was in line and was regretting missing the movie, or maybe she was already flirting with an older guy. Minutes passed and she didn't come back. The movie ended and she didn't come back. The theater manager took me very forcibly to the exit, and I walked somewhat fearfully towards the lobby, but Lucero was nowhere to be found. I approached the women's restrooms and asked a stranger if I could look for her inside. After a few minutes she came out without her, apparently she wasn't there either. I was about to make a fuss when the manager grabbed my shoulder.
- Is something wrong, kid?
- This one...
- You look very worried, did you get lost? did your friends leave you? maybe your girlfriend?
- Listen, no. I'm looking for my sister, she went out to refill another round of popcorn, but she didn't come back.
- I see, did your boyfriend come with you?
- No, he didn't.
- Do you know any lovers of hers?
- She just had her heart broken recently.
- This is very strange.
- It really is, she usually wouldn't leave without telling me first.
- Look kid, sit down over there, one of the employees will bring you a milkshake while I check the cameras and ask if anyone has seen her, is that okay?
- Thank you very much, Mr...?
- Ensign, I'm the manager of this cinema. What's your name?
- Brael, 14 years old. My sister's name is Lucero, her nickname is Luz and she's 13.
- Thanks for the information, Brael. I'll be right back.
My parents arrived shortly after and Ensign received them. I stood on the sidelines, from the table sipping my milkshake, somehow I still did not grasp the seriousness of the matter, everything felt distant and alien. After watching them talk for a long time from a distance, my parents approached me crying and hugged me, it was then when I cried too. Lucero disappeared without a trace and with her went the stability of our family. The first months were the hardest, then we began to laugh again in a low voice, almost like a murmur, laughter, memories, joy in words with the photo albums. And so the years passed, with the memory of Lucero's imprint frozen in a photo, beautiful and charismatic as always. But a little itch remained, latent and annoying every time I closed my eyes, the guilt of losing my sister. I never really got over it, I just tried to move on while behind my parents' backs I searched for evidence trying to piece together that night. The people at the movie theater got to know me well, and when I turned 19, they allowed me to work as a theater attendant, because even though I hadn't gathered any evidence all these years, I had to keep trying, after all, I had decided to focus all my time on finding her. While many of my friends were getting into college, making their lives, getting girlfriends, having fun, I was living a permanent regret. Until Andreas came along.
PART 4
I love playing Valorant, it's one of the few games where I can really get tryhard and also make me forget for a few hours the anxiety in the back of my head. I always get home at 11:00 p.m. and after dinner and a shower, I turn on the computer to make plays that should be on YouTube compilations. I'm part of a competitive team and we do discord calls for several hours, training, participating in amateur tournaments, and, above all, having a good time, until he arrived, Andreas Correlli. His username in discord as in Valorant, looked so clean and uniform, apparently a unique nickname that attracts a lot of attention.
He took part in the training that day, he almost didn't communicate with us, but he made very impressive moves, he knew how to camp the group and attack at critical moments despite what I had detected as shyness, a few days later he was already in the team, ready to participate in an upcoming competition. When one night after a lot of work, a private message came to me, I took it as a way to get closer to the members and create a bond of trust. After chatting for several weeks in a row, I began to have confidence in him, and after training, just him and me, we played chill games, by call and at first I detected his shyness, he spoke very little, but after many sleepless nights he was the one who now did not stop talking, to toxify the rivals, to laugh for behaving arrogant and losing, a nice guy, until, about to finish a game, he revealed something strange to me.
- Juli3n, do you have a moment?
- Sure bro, what's up?
- Your sister is coming back next week.
- I'm sorry?
- I can't reveal too much to you.
- What do you mean?
- Yes, your sister will be back on the penultimate show next week, unfortunately I owe you for the day.
- But how do you know that?
- Just listen Brael, it will take you a while to recognize her, but you have to protect her from the man in the black hat.
- Wait, just wait a minute man. I never mentioned to you about my missing sister and real name - bewildered, I approached the screen, trying to grab him so he wouldn't leave, so he would put things back in order.
- Sorry kid, my time is up, if all goes well, we'll meet again.
- Fuck, just wait... - he disconnected from discord instantly, and despite spamming him with messages, his profile resembled a graveyard, unreal and lonely. I tried to play another game to distract myself, but it was useless, a lot of questions flooded my head that from one moment to another I fell asleep.
It was noon, when the light began to bother my eyelids, and a strong headache became present in a slight and superficial way, I did not remember anything of the previous night until I turned on my computer, observing all the messages I had spamed to Andreas. I cursed under my breath, it was late and in a few hours I would have to leave for work, 'Is it true what he told me, is he just another internet stalker?' I thought, 'I don't really know this guy at all, and I don't remember him sending me a link to dox me, how strange'. I ended up coming to no conclusion, my stomach growled and that was more than enough of a sign that I had to get back to catching up on all this shit, maybe my first and only clue had finally arrived.
PART 5
As busy as I was at work, I ended up forgetting the small and revealing clue from days ago, all in all, her answer was so ambiguous that I could even be wrong, maybe doubting is wrong at this point, but in those small moments when the movie was over and I was leading the clients out, I felt my sister's presence in a murmur in the crowd, in an intrusive laugh, in a warm scolding. It was the last day of the week, the movie was almost over, and I was upstairs waiting to open the exit door and lead the customers to the lobby. I had one arm resting on my chin, suddenly something felt out of place. A figure entered and turned down the aisle to go up to the seats, but it was strange, for some reason it made me uncomfortable. He stopped halfway up the aisle, looking around with some popcorn in his hands.
I was overcome with the urge to talk to her, but she looked underage, it could be misconstrued and I really didn't want to lose my job. We exchanged glances for a moment, the discomfort grew from my esophagus to my entire chest, a pressure began to steal my breath. I leaned against a wall and pulled myself upright when....
- Excuse me, are you all right? - The girl's gentle hand on my head brought me back to reality.
- How did you know that?
- I left a while ago to refill the popcorn, and now that I'm coming back, it seems that the room and the people have completely changed.
- Can I see your ticket?
- Sure, it should be here somewhere - the girl started to rummage through her pockets, when she suddenly stopped, turning her head back, waiting for something I couldn't make out.
- Is something wrong, miss?
- No, everything is fine.
- Miss.
- Hey, I said everything's fine.
- Of course whatever you say - for some reason I thought it wasn't Lucero, she didn't look the same, besides the darkness in the room didn't let me see her completely. With two fingers she grabbed my shirt, her look showed how puzzled she was, but her previous words said the opposite. She looked from where we were to the entrance hallway and squeezed my shirt tighter, I did the same and I could see how a tall black silhouette walked slowly down the hallway. He paused to watch the movie for a few seconds and turned to look at me. Then he combed the entire room from top to bottom, left to right. The girl who a few moments ago was attending, crouched down behind me. ' a bad sign ' I thought ' maybe a stalker or a pedophile '. I didn't manage to observe his gaze, but I knew that he didn't stop looking at me at every step I climbed. I couldn't take my eyes off him, I was mesmerized by his unreal silhouette.
- Don't let him find me - whispered the girl behind me. Just those words brought me back to the present when there were two steps left to get the guy, who I could now distinguish wearing a huge coat, and a matching black hat. I instinctively signaled with my hands for him to stop. The guy cocked his head to one side, I followed his gesture imitating him, he clicked his tongue and finally spoke.
- Did you lose something sir?
- Yes, your ticket
- What?
- May I see your ticket sir? - I didn't understand what was going on, I just answered automatically, actually that guy made my skin crawl, and I had to follow my protocol so that in case he was related to the girl, I wouldn't notice. The guy reached into his coat pockets and I could see how well dressed he was.
- I think I lost him.
- Then you'll have to come with me to the hallway to look for him.
- With pleasure - just when he climbed another step, I stopped him again.
- This is the exit sir, we should look for him where he came in, maybe if we follow the steps you took, we can find him, remember that I am here to serve you.
- Yes, of course - he accepted with a gesture of annoyance going down the steps with heavy steps, I followed him closely. We arrived at the entrance and he went out first into the hallway, taking the lead. As I opened the doors and peeked my head out, I could not find him. My companions passed by and greeted me. I asked if I had seen a man leave, but they shook their heads and continued on their way. At the end of the corridor I could see people entering the rooms with their families, further down the hall I saw the line and the lobby. I felt peace of mind when after several checks of the hallway, that strange gentleman no longer showed himself.
When I returned to the room and looked up, the frightened girl from before was not visible, only her little hand clinging to a part of the wall. I walked slowly, confused and calm. I arrived and the first thing I noticed was how she was squatting, popcorn on one side and one hand covering her mouth. I slowly stroked her head and after a few moments, the stiffness of her body disappeared, hugging me tightly and terror took hold of me. ' This could be misinterpreted, we have to stand up and talk about what happened ' I thought. When I tried to stand up, she held on to me tighter ' fuck, quick before someone sees us like this, I still can't do my job, I need more answers ' I thought again.
- It's over, I think we can get our composure back together -I tried to resolve to relieve her and relieve myself.
- No, we can't.
- Come on, go down the hall, he's gone.
- I don't want to.
- No, please don't.
- No, please don't.
- Look, this can be misinterpreted in the eyes of others - I asked a little irritated, I had to behave like a responsible adult.
- But...
- Let's do this, if you look down the hall, I'll give you a pair of tickets, okay? Did you come with someone?
- Yeah, but I can't find him.
- Oh, maybe I stood you up in the middle of the show. Don't worry, most guys your age are jerks.
- You're a boy.
- At my age, you're either a king of jerks or you're mature. -I answered confidently; she looked deep into my eyes, bit her lip, pressed my shirt and with a jerk she stood up and peeked her head out into the hallway, finding nothing but darkness and loneliness. Can you see he's not here? I scared that stupid man away.
- And why were you trembling when he approached?
- I didn't do that.
- Yes, you did.
- No, you didn't.
- Yes, you did.
- Okay, look, you're right, I did, but you're not off the hook either.
- I like it, let's call it a draw.
- A tie, of course... in any case, what's your name?
- Lucero.
- Lucero?
- Uh-huh, is there something wrong with my name?
- No, it's just that you remind me of someone.
- Don't tell me I reminded you of your ex that you can't get over.
- Fuck, what a tongue you have for your age girl and no, nothing like that.
- So what's this about?
- It's going to sound weird, but can I ask you your last name?
- Lucero, Lucero Algeria de la Cruz Montes.
My heart stopped during those spaces between the letters of her name, the sound of the movie faded and it had been a long time since I had felt my vision darken. I managed to lean on his shoulder, with a terrible desire to vomit. Lucero held me as best I could, with an expression of naivety on his face.
- What's the matter?
- No, nothing - I answered still with my hand in my mouth and the food regurgitating in my throat.
- Come on man, you're not well. Too much sauce or some food that went bad?
- No, it's not that.
- Is it then?
- Now I'll tell you, just let me pull myself together -I took a deep breath and with the support I had I pushed myself to stand up straight, there was not much left for the movie to end-. What was the problem you told me about?
- People are different, and my brother is nowhere to be seen, he is supposed to be in the last row, more or less in the middle and nothing.
- Yeah, I get it, I think I get it.
- Are you sure he's okay now? You sound a little shaken up.
- I'm fine, I'm serious, one other thing, can I see your ticket?
- But I just gave it to you.
- Right,' I rummaged through my pockets and broke out in a cold sweat when I couldn't find it. I quickly bent down and found it next to the popcorn box, it was a little dirty, but after shaking it a little, I examined the details of the ticket in depth, realizing my mistake that I should have noticed at the beginning, the date of the ticket said: March 29, 2014.
- Now why are you crying? You are a very strange guy.
- Welcome Lucero -I tied to say while my hand was shaking with the ticket in my hand, tears came out and my voice was breaking into thousands of pieces.
PART 6
- Excuse me? how do you know me? and why are you crying?
- Luz... -I stopped in mid-sentence to think about what I was going to say, just tell her that she had disappeared and that for 7 years I have been looking for her, so I came up with a solution, I took out my cell phone and put the screen on her face.
- What do you mean?
- What do you mean, that what? -I answered grumpily.
- You change your mood quickly, a moment ago you were shrieking, but now you're sulky.
- But you will be,' I took a deep breath and proceeded to explain, 'just look at the screen.
- Aha And?
¬- Did you see what date it is?
- Should I see the date?
- You should see the date.
- I already saw it
- So?
- What are you getting at?
- Can you read the date out loud, please?
- Is this a fetish of yours?
- Please...
- Sunday, October 31, 2021.
- ¿Y?
- So what? So what?
- For God's sake, don't you realize it?
- Realize what, it's obviously a bad joke, if today is March 24, 2014. I think I'll report you to your supervisor, that's no way to treat customers, sir?
- Hey, I'll be 21 soon brat, behave yourself.
- Yeah whatever you say, but what's your name, I can't report you if I don't know your name.
- Look, here's my ID, come on, behave yourself.
- Brael Antonio de la Cruz Montes,' she whispered as her voice cracked. She trembled a little and I hugged her, she hugged me back as she sobbed.
-How?
- Even I have no idea, but wipe your tears with my shirt, come on.
- Are you sure?
- I really am, don't worry.
- Thank you.
The movie ended, I helped and guided the customers to the exit, my sister all the time remained behind me, hidden, her eyes shining and her cheeks red. After the room emptied, we embraced again and I bent down to explain the situation to her. She kept her hands over her mouth, repressing the pain and anguish, I stroked her head and led her out of the theater. Outside she looked around her, with a coarse curiosity, she kept spinning on her own axis, I put my hands on her shoulders and asked her to stay there on some nearby stairs, while I went to her supervisor to ask permission to leave for some excuse what she would think of on the way to her office. Lucero clung fearfully to my shirt with her fingers, but I made it clear that I would come back for her and that nothing was going to keep us apart again, because we are family, and the big brother's responsibility is to take care of his little sister. I had failed once, however, this time it would be different, I could feel it.
EPILOGUE
It sounds weird to put Epilogue because all this is not over yet, but if I put it this way is because I love to read in my spare time, so I hope you don't mind me taking this liberty. I will summarize what happened next to move on to what is important: I didn't even have to lie to my parents when I took her home, they recognized her immediately, and after a long hug, I explained in detail everything that had happened at the cinema, days later talking more calmly we decided to change her name Lucero, she agreed because we would draw too much attention if suddenly someone who had been missing for 7 years, came back safe, sound and with the same age. It's been a week since then, I'm just writing this after receiving a message from Andreas, explaining everything that is happening a few minutes ago, and this just got more interesting.
Andreas Corelli 11:34 pm
Jul3n I hope your sister made it home safe and sound and you were able to annoy that man in the hat, he is quite a nuisance, you may wonder how did he know your sister would be back? Well my little grasshopper, I hope you put on some horror music and pay attention, because from this shit you are never the same.
You and your sister are ANOMALIES, what do I mean? An AN ANOMALY is that which should not exist, yet it exists and is maintained despite its difficulties. Forgive the ambiguity of the quote, it's just that I got it in my head that way too, now I'll go with the explanation to make it clearer. Your sister and you must have died a long time ago, maybe since your birth or some critical moment in your childhood, where you met death and for various reasons came back to life, and you are still standing, surely right now you remember when you were about to die, although in reality you died and were reborn. Making clear this concept, which is essential that you explain it to your sister or not, I will leave it to your choice, and that is that, because of us, another dimension was created indirectly, obviously. I will ask you another question: Why do you think there are cases of unexplained or incredible disappearances? Where the last moments are recorded at the entrance of a parking lot, or in a recurring place and they are never seen again, and it is because when they enter through a door, they enter something that I call 'Liminal Space' I guess you know them, although it has another name and my colleagues call it 'Backrooms', and in fact there are establishments that really are Backrooms in the other dimension and that you MUST avoid at all costs. By the way, I forgot to tell you that I am part of a worldwide organization that helps people like you and your sister who have no idea of these capabilities to survive.
After laying out the concepts, let's get down to the nitty gritty. No one controls when to enter the other dimension, it just happens, to exit is the same, it just happens. We have not been able to elucidate if someone or something controls these exits and entrances at will of us, the anomalies, but I can tell you that you can avoid them, and it is by developing a kind of 'feeling', something like Spiderman's spider sense, exactly as you think, because you just 'feel' when in an automatic door, or an ordinary door, that little tingle at the back of your head, of alert and worry, however I have bad news for you, you can only develop it after entering the liminal space and survive at least once, I hope you don't get mad at me, I don't set the rules, I just decipher them to survive. It's true, I almost forgot, the experiences are totally individual and collective at the same time, besides the time spent outside the real world is very different, what do I mean, your sister went in 7 years ago, however, a fellow of ours nicknamed 'Kavinski' who lives in your city and you should thank him, he went in because he had a bad feeling, and following his instincts, he managed to see your sister and help her to come back, maybe your sister did not mention it at the moment, but give her patience, she was almost devoured in there. Now I guess you will be conflicted because I mentioned that the exits from the liminal spaces are random, and yes, but Kavinski is besides an anomaly, he is a 'Joker', they are special subjects that are able to determine when they can leave and enter at will, although of course, they are only 50% chance, we lost many taking out that percentage, so don't just thank him, invite him a pizza or something.
Finally, I know you have had enough: Kavinski asked me to comment to you that within three weeks a door would open, and that together with him and another one like you, he can give them a safe tour to develop that 'feeling' so they can fend for themselves, and yes, there are other types of anomalies that are able to have premonitions, all anomalies after returning from liminal space develop an ability, we already have several categories, and I would encourage you to go on the tour, I promise it is safe and Kavinski is one of the best men I know, besides you will meet those who decided to stay in hell. Good night and sleep well.
After thinking about it for a while, maybe it would be a good experiment to develop that *sense* and be able to protect myself and my sister. What do you guys think, do I go, stay and wait to be trapped with no one to help me? I'll write later if something interesting happens, see you.
Disclaimer: I'm Mexican and I use a translator, I have b2 level of English, but I'm lazy, please, don't riddle me, any doubt I'll pass it to Andreas, and no, I named this profile because of the enigma it causes me, and in case someone knows it.
submitted byAndreas_Corell1tonosleep [link][comments]It all started when I was 14 years old, the girl I was dating cancelled my last minute movie date. I don't even remember what movie it was, only that my plans to kiss her were ruined at that moment, until my sister, Lucero insistently knocked on the bathroom door, where I was just touching up my last hair of my hairstyle, crying and feeling disgusted with myself, everything was supposed to be going great, or at least that's what I thought?
- Are you living off the toilet now, Brael? Get out at once.
- Go away, Lucero. Don't be a nuisance.
- Come on Braer, I want to go to the bathroom, I can't stand it anymore.
- Can you leave me alone Luz? Hold on a little, please.
- I see, what happened Braer?
- Nothing, nothing.
- Come on, tell the women's expert what happened.
- You're not an expert on women.
- Yes, I am.
- Of course you're not.
- How do you know that?
- You're barely turning 13, and you're just as experienced as I am in this love thing.
- Do you want me to show you my lady expert badge or what?
- Send it under the door, then.
- Ash, don't be a bastard Braerl, remember I dated someone older.
- The one who wanted to have sex with you and leave?
- The one...
- The one you cried for almost a month because he used you and left with the first girl he saw?
- Yeah, look, you're pushing it, Braerl. You don't want to make your sweet, innocent little sister cry, do you?
- I think I do.
- Son of a bitch, I'm done, I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna blow and when I blow, I'm gonna blow this door down. You hear me?
- Don't run out of lungs. Was I right? I don't want to get in trouble with mom.
- One, two and... - A stampede slammed the door, knocking me off my feet.
- You said you'd blow Light.
- First rule of understanding women my age, don't believe the first thing they tell you.
- That's cheating.
- I'm not saying no, and if you don't come out on the count of three, I swear by all the saints I'll kick that damn door down and kick your damn ass -I opened the door with a bang, managing to dodge my sister's brutal lunge that ended up hitting the wall.
- You're a bastard,' she cursed, rubbing her forehead with her left hand.
- Little bottle of sherry, everything you say will be the other way around.
- Too childish Braerl, that's why Alondra cancelled you.
- You crossed the line Luz, don't talk to me again.
I locked myself in my room and lay down on the bed, it had been a long time since I felt unhappy, defeated and stupid. I had a terrible attitude with my sister who hadn't done anything to me in the past, because she knows how easy she makes me cranky with her sarcasm every 5 minutes. A light knock-knock-knock, caressing my bedroom door, seemed far away.
- Hey, Braerl - I kept to myself, not answering, not making any noise.
- Oh, sorry. I didn't know you liked that girl so much
The silence between his sincerity and my apathy had built an invisible wall, where the light struggled to penetrate.
- Come on Brael, I know I was out of line, but you started it with that guy... but I followed him, I admit it.
Still nothing, my pride or maybe it was more my disappointment that kept me from responding.
- I'm going to hate myself for this, but I can go with you Brael.
- What?
- Don't make me repeat myself twice, please.
- How about I give you the tickets and you go out with some fuckboy?
- I don't talk to fuckboys anymore, Brael. Please, do you think that after being used as a third rate toy I'd still fall for the same tricks of those fuckboys?
- As a matter of fact, I do.
- I confess, yes. You're right, I haven't been able to get out of this shit spiral.
- It's not my problem. Just let me suffer in peace.
- Fuck Brael! - he drops his fist on the wood of the door - You know that once I start something, I can't stop until I finish it.
- Luz, it's that...
- It's nothing, now you get out of bed, wet your face and invite your little sister to the movies to listen to her love problems.
- Come on, you want to - I answered still discouraged, with an empty stomach and a lump in my throat.
'Although maybe, on second thought, she's got a point' I thought.
- Just to remind you, I will not admit and forget the advice you give me. you hear?
- Sure and strong ugly girl.
- Who are you calling ugly, toad face?
PART 2
The cinema we arrived at, is a local movie theater in town, which is well known and loved by the community. My parents built their history here and many friends wrote their first kisses inside empty halls in boring movies, others on the other hand, took a chance and stuck their hand in family movies, apparently I was the only haunted one who was destined to go to the movies with his little sister until she gets a boyfriend and it's my turn to go alone.
- Wow!
- What's going on?
- There are a lot of people at the movies.
- Is that what surprises you?
- Actually, no - he smiled sarcastically - we've been dating for a long time, Braerl.
- Don't tell me you're getting sentimental already.
- I don't know, maybe...
- Aha.
- You have to learn to guess what a girl wants through her body language Braerl.
- But I already know what you want.
- And what do I want?
- Some caramel popcorn and an apple soda.
- Damn it, you know me like the back of your hand!
- I've known toadhead for 13 years, now go and line up at the box office.
- I'm coming, radish head.
For some reason she had forgotten she already had the tickets beforehand, but I found it funny to see her standing there waiting for the moment for her short brain to click. The theater was a little crowded, the Divergent movie had been released a week ago, and me having made up tastes that didn't suit me to get a girl to like me who is most likely with another guy, or maybe not, took its toll on me. The guy who served me was friendly and helpful, as usual, and just at that moment when I was leaving to put sauce on my popcorn, I turned to look at my sister, in the middle of the lobby, watching me like a wave that is about to reach the city. I just nodded my head, pointing towards the entrance to the movie theater. We ran into each other just as I was handing over the tickets to be checked.
- Is something wrong?
- No, nothing.
- First rule when dating guys: pay attention to what they say.
- Is that it?
- Were you expecting advice that would explain the man's mind? I guess not.
- At least you would have given me a worthwhile piece of advice.
- What I told you isn't worth it?
- Well, I think it is.
- Life advice: don't be so haughty with your brother.
- Tuche, brother.
Our room was room 9, and it was down the hall. The change of atmosphere between the lobby and the hallway is something I'll never get used to. The lobby with warm colors, pleasant lights, and full of life, while the hallway with cold colors, monotonous lights and a world that seems dead for a century. We walked in silence, looking away once in a while to observe the movies that were on their way, the ones that had already arrived and the ones that we would never see. Without wanting to, and without knowing, we were both walking towards our destination, the anomaly of March 29, 2014, the disappearance of Lucero Argelia de la Cruz Montes. My sister.
PART 3
As we walked through that door the movie had already started. Dialogues and music were coming to us as we walked to get up to our seats. There was a row of white lights that went up with each step and marked the row with a letter of the alphabet. I chose the last seats, which were all the way to the top. Why? Well, I had my plans to kiss this girl and I hoped she was wearing a skirt, the rest I guess you can imagine. With each step up, I remembered the messages we sent each other every early morning, the songs we hummed on every outing, the linking of our fingers and a kiss on the cheek.
- Don't get left behind, monkey head - my sister interrupted the alternate futures I was imagining in my head.
- Shhh - answered someone unknown between the seats.
- Don't tell me shhh, what's wrong with you.
- Come on, let's keep going up, we are almost there.
Surprisingly, when we sat down, he made as little noise as possible. Lucero sometimes tends to be so unpredictable that he drives me out of my mind. The movie went normally, my sister got me to talk to her on several occasions and I enjoyed her company again. It had been a long time since I had a real talk with her, many times we move away, even if it is only a few centimeters from our siblings, who grow at our pace, but we move away, looking for our own individuality, forgetting that we can only find ourselves, in their look, in their affection and in watching them grow up.
Halfway through the movie, the popcorn had run out, however, at this local movie theater when you bought certain combos, you could go and refill another round of popcorn. I grabbed the container when my sister grabbed my wrist with some force.
- Fourth rule kid, women have initiative too. You don't have to be chivalrous all the time.
- In fact, it's the third rule.
- Fifth rule! I don't remember asking your opinion.
- You win, I give up. Go get the popcorn then, I left the ticket in there. Careful, you won't fall.
- Did you know that when you tell a person not to do something they end up doing it?
- This one, I guess it doesn't apply to everyone.
- Yes, it does! If I fall it will be your fault.
- Break a leg!
- That sounds better! I'll be right back. - she slowly and cautiously left the seat, stealthily walking across the room and taking care of every step on every step, I watched her lose herself in the darkness of the room, I watched her silhouette turn to enter the unknown. I returned my attention to the film, I became so interested in it that I somehow lost track of time. At some point I yawned and squinted, when I thought I heard my sister's laughter. I turned to her seat, but she hadn't arrived yet, maybe she was in line and was regretting missing the movie, or maybe she was already flirting with an older guy. Minutes passed and she didn't come back. The movie ended and she didn't come back. The theater manager took me very forcibly to the exit, and I walked somewhat fearfully towards the lobby, but Lucero was nowhere to be found. I approached the women's restrooms and asked a stranger if I could look for her inside. After a few minutes she came out without her, apparently she wasn't there either. I was about to make a fuss when the manager grabbed my shoulder.
- Is something wrong, kid?
- This one...
- You look very worried, did you get lost? did your friends leave you? maybe your girlfriend?
- Listen, no. I'm looking for my sister, she went out to refill another round of popcorn, but she didn't come back.
- I see, did your boyfriend come with you?
- No, he didn't.
- Do you know any lovers of hers?
- She just had her heart broken recently.
- This is very strange.
- It really is, she usually wouldn't leave without telling me first.
- Look kid, sit down over there, one of the employees will bring you a milkshake while I check the cameras and ask if anyone has seen her, is that okay?
- Thank you very much, Mr...?
- Ensign, I'm the manager of this cinema. What's your name?
- Brael, 14 years old. My sister's name is Lucero, her nickname is Luz and she's 13.
- Thanks for the information, Brael. I'll be right back.
My parents arrived shortly after and Ensign received them. I stood on the sidelines, from the table sipping my milkshake, somehow I still did not grasp the seriousness of the matter, everything felt distant and alien. After watching them talk for a long time from a distance, my parents approached me crying and hugged me, it was then when I cried too. Lucero disappeared without a trace and with her went the stability of our family. The first months were the hardest, then we began to laugh again in a low voice, almost like a murmur, laughter, memories, joy in words with the photo albums. And so the years passed, with the memory of Lucero's imprint frozen in a photo, beautiful and charismatic as always. But a little itch remained, latent and annoying every time I closed my eyes, the guilt of losing my sister. I never really got over it, I just tried to move on while behind my parents' backs I searched for evidence trying to piece together that night. The people at the movie theater got to know me well, and when I turned 19, they allowed me to work as a theater attendant, because even though I hadn't gathered any evidence all these years, I had to keep trying, after all, I had decided to focus all my time on finding her. While many of my friends were getting into college, making their lives, getting girlfriends, having fun, I was living a permanent regret. Until Andreas came along.
PART 4
I love playing Valorant, it's one of the few games where I can really get tryhard and also make me forget for a few hours the anxiety in the back of my head. I always get home at 11:00 p.m. and after dinner and a shower, I turn on the computer to make plays that should be on YouTube compilations. I'm part of a competitive team and we do discord calls for several hours, training, participating in amateur tournaments, and, above all, having a good time, until he arrived, Andreas Correlli. His username in discord as in Valorant, looked so clean and uniform, apparently a unique nickname that attracts a lot of attention.
He took part in the training that day, he almost didn't communicate with us, but he made very impressive moves, he knew how to camp the group and attack at critical moments despite what I had detected as shyness, a few days later he was already in the team, ready to participate in an upcoming competition. When one night after a lot of work, a private message came to me, I took it as a way to get closer to the members and create a bond of trust. After chatting for several weeks in a row, I began to have confidence in him, and after training, just him and me, we played chill games, by call and at first I detected his shyness, he spoke very little, but after many sleepless nights he was the one who now did not stop talking, to toxify the rivals, to laugh for behaving arrogant and losing, a nice guy, until, about to finish a game, he revealed something strange to me.
- Juli3n, do you have a moment?
- Sure bro, what's up?
- Your sister is coming back next week.
- I'm sorry?
- I can't reveal too much to you.
- What do you mean?
- Yes, your sister will be back on the penultimate show next week, unfortunately I owe you for the day.
- But how do you know that?
- Just listen Brael, it will take you a while to recognize her, but you have to protect her from the man in the black hat.
- Wait, just wait a minute man. I never mentioned to you about my missing sister and real name - bewildered, I approached the screen, trying to grab him so he wouldn't leave, so he would put things back in order.
- Sorry kid, my time is up, if all goes well, we'll meet again.
- Fuck, just wait... - he disconnected from discord instantly, and despite spamming him with messages, his profile resembled a graveyard, unreal and lonely. I tried to play another game to distract myself, but it was useless, a lot of questions flooded my head that from one moment to another I fell asleep.
It was noon, when the light began to bother my eyelids, and a strong headache became present in a slight and superficial way, I did not remember anything of the previous night until I turned on my computer, observing all the messages I had spamed to Andreas. I cursed under my breath, it was late and in a few hours I would have to leave for work, 'Is it true what he told me, is he just another internet stalker?' I thought, 'I don't really know this guy at all, and I don't remember him sending me a link to dox me, how strange'. I ended up coming to no conclusion, my stomach growled and that was more than enough of a sign that I had to get back to catching up on all this shit, maybe my first and only clue had finally arrived.
PART 5
As busy as I was at work, I ended up forgetting the small and revealing clue from days ago, all in all, her answer was so ambiguous that I could even be wrong, maybe doubting is wrong at this point, but in those small moments when the movie was over and I was leading the clients out, I felt my sister's presence in a murmur in the crowd, in an intrusive laugh, in a warm scolding. It was the last day of the week, the movie was almost over, and I was upstairs waiting to open the exit door and lead the customers to the lobby. I had one arm resting on my chin, suddenly something felt out of place. A figure entered and turned down the aisle to go up to the seats, but it was strange, for some reason it made me uncomfortable. He stopped halfway up the aisle, looking around with some popcorn in his hands.
I was overcome with the urge to talk to her, but she looked underage, it could be misconstrued and I really didn't want to lose my job. We exchanged glances for a moment, the discomfort grew from my esophagus to my entire chest, a pressure began to steal my breath. I leaned against a wall and pulled myself upright when....
- Excuse me, are you all right? - The girl's gentle hand on my head brought me back to reality.
- How did you know that?
- I left a while ago to refill the popcorn, and now that I'm coming back, it seems that the room and the people have completely changed.
- Can I see your ticket?
- Sure, it should be here somewhere - the girl started to rummage through her pockets, when she suddenly stopped, turning her head back, waiting for something I couldn't make out.
- Is something wrong, miss?
- No, everything is fine.
- Miss.
- Hey, I said everything's fine.
- Of course whatever you say - for some reason I thought it wasn't Lucero, she didn't look the same, besides the darkness in the room didn't let me see her completely. With two fingers she grabbed my shirt, her look showed how puzzled she was, but her previous words said the opposite. She looked from where we were to the entrance hallway and squeezed my shirt tighter, I did the same and I could see how a tall black silhouette walked slowly down the hallway. He paused to watch the movie for a few seconds and turned to look at me. Then he combed the entire room from top to bottom, left to right. The girl who a few moments ago was attending, crouched down behind me. ' a bad sign ' I thought ' maybe a stalker or a pedophile '. I didn't manage to observe his gaze, but I knew that he didn't stop looking at me at every step I climbed. I couldn't take my eyes off him, I was mesmerized by his unreal silhouette.
- Don't let him find me - whispered the girl behind me. Just those words brought me back to the present when there were two steps left to get the guy, who I could now distinguish wearing a huge coat, and a matching black hat. I instinctively signaled with my hands for him to stop. The guy cocked his head to one side, I followed his gesture imitating him, he clicked his tongue and finally spoke.
- Did you lose something sir?
- Yes, your ticket
- What?
- May I see your ticket sir? - I didn't understand what was going on, I just answered automatically, actually that guy made my skin crawl, and I had to follow my protocol so that in case he was related to the girl, I wouldn't notice. The guy reached into his coat pockets and I could see how well dressed he was.
- I think I lost him.
- Then you'll have to come with me to the hallway to look for him.
- With pleasure - just when he climbed another step, I stopped him again.
- This is the exit sir, we should look for him where he came in, maybe if we follow the steps you took, we can find him, remember that I am here to serve you.
- Yes, of course - he accepted with a gesture of annoyance going down the steps with heavy steps, I followed him closely. We arrived at the entrance and he went out first into the hallway, taking the lead. As I opened the doors and peeked my head out, I could not find him. My companions passed by and greeted me. I asked if I had seen a man leave, but they shook their heads and continued on their way. At the end of the corridor I could see people entering the rooms with their families, further down the hall I saw the line and the lobby. I felt peace of mind when after several checks of the hallway, that strange gentleman no longer showed himself.
When I returned to the room and looked up, the frightened girl from before was not visible, only her little hand clinging to a part of the wall. I walked slowly, confused and calm. I arrived and the first thing I noticed was how she was squatting, popcorn on one side and one hand covering her mouth. I slowly stroked her head and after a few moments, the stiffness of her body disappeared, hugging me tightly and terror took hold of me. ' This could be misinterpreted, we have to stand up and talk about what happened ' I thought. When I tried to stand up, she held on to me tighter ' fuck, quick before someone sees us like this, I still can't do my job, I need more answers ' I thought again.
- It's over, I think we can get our composure back together -I tried to resolve to relieve her and relieve myself.
- No, we can't.
- Come on, go down the hall, he's gone.
- I don't want to.
- No, please don't.
- No, please don't.
- Look, this can be misinterpreted in the eyes of others - I asked a little irritated, I had to behave like a responsible adult.
- But...
- Let's do this, if you look down the hall, I'll give you a pair of tickets, okay? Did you come with someone?
- Yeah, but I can't find him.
- Oh, maybe I stood you up in the middle of the show. Don't worry, most guys your age are jerks.
- You're a boy.
- At my age, you're either a king of jerks or you're mature. -I answered confidently; she looked deep into my eyes, bit her lip, pressed my shirt and with a jerk she stood up and peeked her head out into the hallway, finding nothing but darkness and loneliness. Can you see he's not here? I scared that stupid man away.
- And why were you trembling when he approached?
- I didn't do that.
- Yes, you did.
- No, you didn't.
- Yes, you did.
- Okay, look, you're right, I did, but you're not off the hook either.
- I like it, let's call it a draw.
- A tie, of course... in any case, what's your name?
- Lucero.
- Lucero?
- Uh-huh, is there something wrong with my name?
- No, it's just that you remind me of someone.
- Don't tell me I reminded you of your ex that you can't get over.
- Fuck, what a tongue you have for your age girl and no, nothing like that.
- So what's this about?
- It's going to sound weird, but can I ask you your last name?
- Lucero, Lucero Algeria de la Cruz Montes.
My heart stopped during those spaces between the letters of her name, the sound of the movie faded and it had been a long time since I had felt my vision darken. I managed to lean on his shoulder, with a terrible desire to vomit. Lucero held me as best I could, with an expression of naivety on his face.
- What's the matter?
- No, nothing - I answered still with my hand in my mouth and the food regurgitating in my throat.
- Come on man, you're not well. Too much sauce or some food that went bad?
- No, it's not that.
- Is it then?
- Now I'll tell you, just let me pull myself together -I took a deep breath and with the support I had I pushed myself to stand up straight, there was not much left for the movie to end-. What was the problem you told me about?
- People are different, and my brother is nowhere to be seen, he is supposed to be in the last row, more or less in the middle and nothing.
- Yeah, I get it, I think I get it.
- Are you sure he's okay now? You sound a little shaken up.
- I'm fine, I'm serious, one other thing, can I see your ticket?
- But I just gave it to you.
- Right,' I rummaged through my pockets and broke out in a cold sweat when I couldn't find it. I quickly bent down and found it next to the popcorn box, it was a little dirty, but after shaking it a little, I examined the details of the ticket in depth, realizing my mistake that I should have noticed at the beginning, the date of the ticket said: March 29, 2014.
- Now why are you crying? You are a very strange guy.
- Welcome Lucero -I tied to say while my hand was shaking with the ticket in my hand, tears came out and my voice was breaking into thousands of pieces.
PART 6
- Excuse me? how do you know me? and why are you crying?
- Luz... -I stopped in mid-sentence to think about what I was going to say, just tell her that she had disappeared and that for 7 years I have been looking for her, so I came up with a solution, I took out my cell phone and put the screen on her face.
- What do you mean?
- What do you mean, that what? -I answered grumpily.
- You change your mood quickly, a moment ago you were shrieking, but now you're sulky.
- But you will be,' I took a deep breath and proceeded to explain, 'just look at the screen.
- Aha And?
¬- Did you see what date it is?
- Should I see the date?
- You should see the date.
- I already saw it
- So?
- What are you getting at?
- Can you read the date out loud, please?
- Is this a fetish of yours?
- Please...
- Sunday, October 31, 2021.
- ¿Y?
- So what? So what?
- For God's sake, don't you realize it?
- Realize what, it's obviously a bad joke, if today is March 24, 2014. I think I'll report you to your supervisor, that's no way to treat customers, sir?
- Hey, I'll be 21 soon brat, behave yourself.
- Yeah whatever you say, but what's your name, I can't report you if I don't know your name.
- Look, here's my ID, come on, behave yourself.
- Brael Antonio de la Cruz Montes,' she whispered as her voice cracked. She trembled a little and I hugged her, she hugged me back as she sobbed.
-How?
- Even I have no idea, but wipe your tears with my shirt, come on.
- Are you sure?
- I really am, don't worry.
- Thank you.
The movie ended, I helped and guided the customers to the exit, my sister all the time remained behind me, hidden, her eyes shining and her cheeks red. After the room emptied, we embraced again and I bent down to explain the situation to her. She kept her hands over her mouth, repressing the pain and anguish, I stroked her head and led her out of the theater. Outside she looked around her, with a coarse curiosity, she kept spinning on her own axis, I put my hands on her shoulders and asked her to stay there on some nearby stairs, while I went to her supervisor to ask permission to leave for some excuse what she would think of on the way to her office. Lucero clung fearfully to my shirt with her fingers, but I made it clear that I would come back for her and that nothing was going to keep us apart again, because we are family, and the big brother's responsibility is to take care of his little sister. I had failed once, however, this time it would be different, I could feel it.
EPILOGUE
It sounds weird to put Epilogue because all this is not over yet, but if I put it this way is because I love to read in my spare time, so I hope you don't mind me taking this liberty. I will summarize what happened next to move on to what is important: I didn't even have to lie to my parents when I took her home, they recognized her immediately, and after a long hug, I explained in detail everything that had happened at the cinema, days later talking more calmly we decided to change her name Lucero, she agreed because we would draw too much attention if suddenly someone who had been missing for 7 years, came back safe, sound and with the same age. It's been a week since then, I'm just writing this after receiving a message from Andreas, explaining everything that is happening a few minutes ago, and this just got more interesting.
Andreas Corelli 11:34 pm
Jul3n I hope your sister made it home safe and sound and you were able to annoy that man in the hat, he is quite a nuisance, you may wonder how did he know your sister would be back? Well my little grasshopper, I hope you put on some horror music and pay attention, because from this shit you are never the same.
You and your sister are ANOMALIES, what do I mean? An AN ANOMALY is that which should not exist, yet it exists and is maintained despite its difficulties. Forgive the ambiguity of the quote, it's just that I got it in my head that way too, now I'll go with the explanation to make it clearer. Your sister and you must have died a long time ago, maybe since your birth or some critical moment in your childhood, where you met death and for various reasons came back to life, and you are still standing, surely right now you remember when you were about to die, although in reality you died and were reborn. Making clear this concept, which is essential that you explain it to your sister or not, I will leave it to your choice, and that is that, because of us, another dimension was created indirectly, obviously. I will ask you another question: Why do you think there are cases of unexplained or incredible disappearances? Where the last moments are recorded at the entrance of a parking lot, or in a recurring place and they are never seen again, and it is because when they enter through a door, they enter something that I call 'Liminal Space' I guess you know them, although it has another name and my colleagues call it 'Backrooms', and in fact there are establishments that really are Backrooms in the other dimension and that you MUST avoid at all costs. By the way, I forgot to tell you that I am part of a worldwide organization that helps people like you and your sister who have no idea of these capabilities to survive.
After laying out the concepts, let's get down to the nitty gritty. No one controls when to enter the other dimension, it just happens, to exit is the same, it just happens. We have not been able to elucidate if someone or something controls these exits and entrances at will of us, the anomalies, but I can tell you that you can avoid them, and it is by developing a kind of 'feeling', something like Spiderman's spider sense, exactly as you think, because you just 'feel' when in an automatic door, or an ordinary door, that little tingle at the back of your head, of alert and worry, however I have bad news for you, you can only develop it after entering the liminal space and survive at least once, I hope you don't get mad at me, I don't set the rules, I just decipher them to survive. It's true, I almost forgot, the experiences are totally individual and collective at the same time, besides the time spent outside the real world is very different, what do I mean, your sister went in 7 years ago, however, a fellow of ours nicknamed 'Kavinski' who lives in your city and you should thank him, he went in because he had a bad feeling, and following his instincts, he managed to see your sister and help her to come back, maybe your sister did not mention it at the moment, but give her patience, she was almost devoured in there. Now I guess you will be conflicted because I mentioned that the exits from the liminal spaces are random, and yes, but Kavinski is besides an anomaly, he is a 'Joker', they are special subjects that are able to determine when they can leave and enter at will, although of course, they are only 50% chance, we lost many taking out that percentage, so don't just thank him, invite him a pizza or something.
Finally, I know you have had enough: Kavinski asked me to comment to you that within three weeks a door would open, and that together with him and another one like you, he can give them a safe tour to develop that 'feeling' so they can fend for themselves, and yes, there are other types of anomalies that are able to have premonitions, all anomalies after returning from liminal space develop an ability, we already have several categories, and I would encourage you to go on the tour, I promise it is safe and Kavinski is one of the best men I know, besides you will meet those who decided to stay in hell. Good night and sleep well.
After thinking about it for a while, maybe it would be a good experiment to develop that *sense* and be able to protect myself and my sister. What do you guys think, do I go, stay and wait to be trapped with no one to help me? I'll write later if something interesting happens, see you.
Disclaimer: I'm Mexican and I use a translator, I have b2 level of English, but I'm lazy, please, don't riddle me, any doubt I'll pass it to Andreas, and no, I named this profile because of the enigma it causes me, and in case someone knows it.
2021.12.21 05:53 ritzy_kneeI want to move, hubby refuses...what to do??
Hi all, looking for advice or similar situations & how it was resolved. I'm 41, hubby 42. We've been together since I was 17, him 18. Due to his job, we've always lived rurally and I'm really starting to hate it. I've DESPERATELY wanted to move to a more populated area for close to 15 years now but he won't budge. Back story - when our babies came along (only 2, VERY close together in age), I became a SAHM (& have been ever since). I begged for us to move to be closer to my family (they were an 11 hr drive away/whole other state), as I knew I would need support. He refused, because of his job and not wanting to move too far from HIS family (not that they're close). I suggested we move to the city where there would be more people/support systems. He refused again. I asked if we could at least move INTO the small country town we lived nearby. Again, the answer was no. I got on with things as best I could but still ended up with postpartum depression anyway (I put it down to lack of support/isolation) which is still a problem all these years later (kids are now 13 & 14). Thesedays it's (medically diagnosed) major depressive disorder. 5 years ago, we moved even FURTHER away from town (our kids school is now half an hour away and I drive them to & from (no bus service) so I spent close to 2 hrs a day getting them to school and back home again) & he's become a business owner in his chosen profession (think kinda livestock/primary producer) & is now doing 'ok', financially speaking. But the trade-off is he's basically married to his work. It's a 7 day a week/51 weeks of the year kind of thing. In Spring & Summer, it's from sun up til sun down. At the very most, he'll have a week off in June (winter, we're in Australia) and that's about it really. His business is kinda specialised so can't really ask anyone to cover him so he can have a decent holiday. But I'm the only one it bothers as he LOVES his job & he can't see himself doing anything else. Ever. I'm still just a SAHM. As our kids have hit their teenage years, I've dropped hints that I'd like to go back to work p/t (purely for a bit of mental stimulation and adult interaction) but he argues that I don't need to because he earns enough to keep us both going (which is true). He's also VERY traditional, as in mum should basically always be home when the kids are home. We don't spend much time together (because of his work) and I realise now we don't have that many interests in common either. The EXTREMELY rare lunch dates are always rushed (he's gotta get back to work) and his phone is always ringing anyway, he won't turn it off in case an emergency pops up. Date nights are out as well, he is dead on his feet between 7 & 8pm due to having to be up so early. Sooo on the odd occasion I go for a tiny trip away (maybe 4 days max) (because I can't stand being at home any more & I'm so fucking bored) its usually just me & the kids, or sometimes me by myself. I enjoy getting away to civilisation occasionally as it makes me feel ALIVE & HAPPY. But then I always have to come back home, and I honestly dread it. I don't have many friends, but the couple I do have live almost an hour away. I don't get many visitors either as we live on majorly washed-out dirt roads & no-one wants to drive their car over them, esp if they don't have a 4wd. And I've been told it's too far out of everyone's way anyway. I feel like we're (hubby & I) drifting apart but I'm not sure how to fix it, especially when I feel resentment over the fact that the things I've wanted to do during the course of our marriage (move, mainly) hasn't mattered. I've spoken about leaving in the past (by myself) & divorcing, but then he will beg me to stay and also guilt trip me about breaking up the family/making our kids grow up in a broken home etc. So then I stay. I feel sad that I've tried doing things his way for 15 years but I don't ever see him trying things my way. That sadness & building resentment has also completely killed our sex life. It's non-existent now. I've tried telling him I feel more & more disconnected from him but he just suggests another doc appointment & new antidepressant. I've tried telling him I feel that living in a large town or city would benefit our kids in terms of more education/employment opportunities but he disregards it. I've suggested we stay married but live apart (him in the country & me maybe in a city), see each other when we can. He's considering it but even IF he agrees, it's still at least 5 years away yet due to finances & kids finishing year 12 at their preferred school. What now? I'm not happy at all but it doesn't seem to matter to him. I also don't want to break up the family, but don't see any other way around it?? Unless someone here has an idea I havent thought of. When is it my turn to have a shot at being happy? Please help.
submitted byritzy_kneetoMarriage [link][comments]2021.12.21 04:45 DaliScaldngWrstwatchPhysics and the struggle against nihilism
Apologies if this is the wrong place to post this, but I wasn’t sure where else to write it. Sorry also if this runs a bit long, but I’ve struggled with this for years with no good answer; I’ll try to offer the most concise explanation I can.The problem:
As an undergraduate I majored in physics, and while it was a very rewarding field of study most of the time, learning thermodynamics really messed me up. I suppose in a sense it confirmed what I had already suspected to be true growing up, but it did so in a much more rigorous and mathematically formal way which makes it a much harder argument to knock down, as well as allowing you to express the fundamental laws of energy exchange in a quantifiable and meaningful way. Essentially, every physical process is running off a fixed supply of usable energy and, once that supply runs out, all physical processes (or at least the ones we care about necessary for sustaining life or anything meaningful) come grinding to a halt. Short version: the universe’s battery is running out, and it’s never going to be recharged.Then later on you learn statistical mechanics, and things get even worse: you can explain the laws of energy exchange which were laid-out in thermodynamics purely from statistical arguments: you learn that, in essence, life is a very specificarrangement of matter, one which has a relatively small number of ways of being realized. Comparatively, there are an infinitely many times more arrangements of matter not capable of supporting life, and the longer that time goes on, the more opportunities for those “unhelpful” arrangements to creep in. The gist of it is this: if I were to flip a (regular, unweighted) quarter an infinite number of times, each toss with random initial conditions unknown to both you and I, and I asked you to bet that the quarter would never come up “tails” no matter how many times I flipped it, would you take that bet? If you answered “no,” then congratulations: that’s the reason everything in this universe falls apart on a long-enough time scale. That includes you and me, civilization, the human race, intelligent life, life in general, stars, galaxies, everything: so long as our basic understandings of arithmetic and probability still hold, we’re all screwed. It’s a... sobering thought to say the least.
Now I suppose the results of thermodynamics and stat mech aren’t exactly uncommon knowledge – I once saw a line in Cards Against Humanity that just says “the inevitable heat death of the universe” (LOL) – but it’s one thing to hear about how doomed we all are, and quite another thing entirely to actually walk through the math and physics involved and prove it for yourself; it changes how you see things.
What do I mean by that? Okay, try to remember back to when someone first explained the concept of air to you. Now, most of the time you can’t actually see the individual diatomic nitrogen and oxygen molecules bouncing around you – for that, you’d need some pretty powerful lab equipment – but in your mind’s eye, once you learn about the existence of this “invisible fluid” we’re all swimming through, everything starts to make sense: you can visualize why you get headaches at higher altitudes, why you can’t breathe underwater, why when you start running there’s suddenly a breeze that wasn’t there before, why when you stick your hand out a car window palm-forward you feel this push on your hand which starts to go away as you tilt it more edge-on to the direction of travel, why a fire dies out on its own once you enclose it in a tight-fitting box, and so on. Once the concept of air is in your head, you may not be able to see air with your eyes, but you can see it with your mind, and you start seeing it everywhere. Get what I mean?
Well, in the same way, I can see entropy everywhere I look. I flick on a light switch, and in my mind’s eye I can see thermodynamics grinding along: I can see the filament of an incandescent bulb begin to burn away, or the PN junction erode and the electron mobility degrade in an LED. I can see the I^2R losses from the electric current traveling through the wires causing heat losses to radiate off the copper surface, and the energy lost to impedance mismatches in the transmission lines. At the generator side of things, I can see the irreversible chemical processes from combusting fossil fuels used to heat water into the steam used to spin the turbines, or the slow radioactive decay of a nuclear fuel rod used to do the same; even for “renewable” energy sources like geothermal energy, I can see the earth’s mantle slowly cool off due to heat radiation; the earth’s core is kept at a prolonged high temperature only due to the excess heat generated from the radioactive decay of heavier elements embedded in it, and once those heavy metals fission-away into something lighter and the heat they produce begins to run out, the earth’s core begins to cool, the molten iron stops circulating, our magnetosphere disappears, and the solar wind from our sun slowly bombards our atmosphere away into nothingness. And if you try to turn to the sun for energy, even it is middle-aged and half-dead already: sooner or later, it’ll run out of the lighter elements necessary for smashing-together into heavier elements, and the stellar nucleosynthesis necessary to keep that giant astral forge burning will sputter out and cease to function.
When a battery gets plugged-in, I can see it drain its chemical fuel; when I see a ball roll off a table, I can see its potential energy drop; and if I reach down to pick the ball up and place it back where it belongs, I can begin to see the depletion of energy in biological processes, too: I can see the long chain of neurons firing off little sodium and calcium and potassium ions necessary to contract my muscle tissue and provide my body its movement; I can see the voltage-gated sodium channels forced to pump the ions back out of those neurons using ADP to ATP conversion, a chemical process fueled by glucose oxidization which itself comes from the one-way machinery of turning food into fuel into work into nothing. And of course, our food comes from plants and animals; the animals get their energy from the plants; and the plants get their energy from photosynthesis, which only lasts until the sun stops shining, a sun which every day burns out a little bit more.
I can see it in a raindrop sliding down the glass of a window pane, this persistent and unrelenting decrease in potential energy which can only be lifted back up again by the process of evaporation which is driven, again, by a slowly-dying sun; I can see it in a flower bud opening for the first time in the spring, or an autumn leaf dropping from a tree; I can see it in sunlight glinting off the rippling waves of a choppy sea, or in a baby’s breath, or in the beat of a butterfly’s wings; it’s everywhere. And on the one hand, while it is, in a certain sense, reassuring or perhaps inspiring that there’s this fundamental instruction which underlies so many different physical processes – while it’s exciting that you can explain so much with so little – it’s also maddening to be a human and thus to be one of the thingsgoverned by that particular instruction. It’s a little like the cursed version of Feynman’s “Ode to a Flower:” instead of just being able to see nature’s beauty wrapped-up in something, I’m also forced to acknowledge nature’s utter indifference to, if not outright cruelty towards, the existence of myself, my species, and every one and thing I’ve ever loved or cared about.
I’m a human being; I come into this existence biologically pre-programmed to want two things more than anything else in the universe: 1.) to continue to exist, and 2.) for the people I care about to not go away. And yet, on a long-enough timescale, I’m pre-destined to be disappointed in both regards, all as the result of a set of laws hard-wired into the most fundamental level of how the universe operates. I’m basically a chemical reaction that is A.) aware it’s happening, B.) horrified that it’s happening, and C.) can’t do anything to stop the fact that it’s happening. That’s an incredibly hard lesson to learn; during my life, I’ve had to end friendships, lose pets, bury family members, but I can honestly say that all of those things, every personal tragedy and disappointment in life, even when placed all together on one end of a scale, couldn’t deflect the needle even a little bit when the weight of something as heavy as entropy is sitting there at the other end.
That’s how ugly it gets once you start to do a deep-dive on it.It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, and what’s harder still is that I don’t seem to be able to communicate it in such a way where other people just get it. I think a big part of that has to do with the fact that the language of physics – and by extension, the language of nature itself – is best communicated with mathematics. Some ideas are best expressed in words, and some are best expressed in pictures; but if you want to get into any real depth about how to understand how things work on a deeper level, you really need to have mathematics. I personally can’t communicate the results of physics in a meaningful way without calculus or differential equations any easier than I could communicate the history of the Peloponnesian War using only interpretive dance; it’s just not the right set of tools or the right language for getting the ideas across in an accessible or meaningful way.
I’m living in a country (the U.S.) where our adult population is... not exactly renowned for their numerical literacy, a country where as soon as you throw something as complicated at people as the quadratic formula, they’ll look at you like you’ve sprouted a second head. People don’t seem to realize just how haunting or traumatizing an equation can be because people tend to think of equations as being too abstract to have any impactful meaning on their lives. To a physicist, however, it’s quite the opposite: the equations are, on a deeper level, what’s responsible for anything having an impactful meaning on your life at all; they’re at the heart of everything, so if the equations are rotten, then everything’s tainted: when the “seed” or “kernel” or “foundation” upon which reality is built is corrupted, everything gets poisoned as a direct consequence, and there’s nowhere you can “go to” to get away from it. It’s just this holistic, all-encompassing narrative of defeatism.
I think because of this disconnect, we just end up talking straight past each other every time I’ve tried to bring this up with anyone: they don’t get the math, so then I have to try to translate my problem into words so that they can engage me on the subject; they then try to refute those words with words of their own, not realizing that what they’re verbally describing simply doesn’t “translate” right when you go back into the language of physics. Here are a couple of common objections I’ve encountered, along with the best explanation I can offer (in words, anyway) of why these “refutations” don’t actually work:
Objection 1: “That’s just your opinion.”
Some people would object by claiming that all of the above is just one particular opinion or perspective a person might have about “the human condition” or whatever, but I would push back against such a claim by reminding the reader that it’s no more my opinion that S = k logW any more than it’s my opinion that E = mc^2; it’s a fundamental governing law of physical reality. You don’t get to have an opinion on it; it’s just true whether you want it to be true or not. Put it to you this way: if you’re not a physicist, do you harbor any passionate objections to CP violations? The spin-statistics theorem? Hamilton’s Principle? Probably not, because you probably don’t know what any of that stuff is or says or does or means. I’m afraid you’re not really in a position to argue against thermodynamics and stat mech until you’ve learned them, and that requires the right tools: a little higher-order math, and a lot of patience.An analogy: you and I are in a room with only one window which is placed really high towards the ceiling, so we can’t easily see what’s on the other side. I would like to believe that it’s sunny outside, so I insist that it is sunny outside. You, on the other hand, would actually like to know what the weather is, so you climb a whole bunch of furniture so you can reach the window and look out. It’s not an easy climb, nor are you met with a rewarding result: it’s rainy and grey and dismal out. You relay as much back to me, but I object: “No, it can’t be bad weather, it’s sunny outside.” “But it’s raining!” “That’s just your opinion.” “No it isn’t, I’m looking right at it! Come up here and see for yourself!” “Nah, that looks like a lot of effort, and anyway I’m bad at climbing.” “But how can you object to the truth when you won’t even make the effort to get at it?” “Well, we’re each entitled to our opinions, and I guess you and I are just going to have to agree to disagree on this issue.”
Do you see the problem? It’s not an opinion you have, but a fact. The only reason for disagreement is that not everyone has the same amount of access to the facts. And when someone without the facts tries to demote your direct knowledge of the world to a mere “opinion,” they’re doing so in order to bring you down to a level where they can claim to be on an equal footing with you so they can declare a truce based on false-equivalences: “everyone is entitled to their opinion” really means “I lack the means of being able to refute you, so I’d prefer to just dismiss you.” It’s not an argument, but rather a stubborn declaration of refusing to engage in the argument at all.
Objection 2: “Maybe that’s not the whole story.”
Another objection people might raise is that maybe the laws of physics as we’veDescribe Yourself In Three Words Best Answer Dating
currently understood them might not be the full story: maybe the laws of thermodynamics or stat mech are incomplete in some certain way, and if we only had the “full” picture, everything would click into place for us and the universe wouldn’t feel nearly so hopeless anymore?I’m afraid this objection doesn’t hold water, either: if you’ve ever gotten into a debate with a creationist who firmly insists that the universe is 6,000 years old (and I don’t recommend doing so, since it rarely gets you anywhere), you cannot get those people to abandon their opinions no matter how much you tell them about geological strata, fossil records, radioactive decay rates, the timescales necessary for biological evolution, micrometeorite impacts on atmosphere-less surfaces like the moon, spectral analysis of starlight, stellar red-shifting, the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation pattern, etc. At every instance where you provide evidence for why you are right and they are wrong, they simply dismiss the evidence out-of-hand by insisting that maybe it was all put here as some sort of test of faith: “Well, if all of the evidence points to one conclusion, then maybe all of the evidence is wrong somehow.”
The moral of the story is that if a person rejects the narrative reaffirmed by all physical evidence because that narrative makes them uncomfortable, and instead they embrace the exact opposite narrative supported by no amount of evidence at all because such a counter-narrative is more comforting to them*,* then that person is the textbook example of a person in denial
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. If you’re going to argue for an interpretation of reality not supported by any empirical evidence, then you’re obliged to provide A.) an explanation for why it isn’t supported by any empirical evidence, and B.) why any of us should be obliged to believe it without proof.“Because this narrative is more fun or more comforting or more gratifying to believe in” is not a compelling reason, either. If anything, the fact that a “non-empirical interpretation” of reality is attractive to you should be cause for greater skepticism: what are the odds that, of the infinitely many different possible interpretations of reality, the one interpretation that turns out to be correct or true would also just so happen to be one which is optimistic or favorable to the desires of a few tiny little specsof organic dust temporarily occupying an infinitesimal sliver of time on one lonely little mote of space rock adrift in some desolate western spiral arm of just one galaxy out of about a hundred billion? Far more likely that such “interpretations” are really just the result of wishful thinking on their adherents’ behalf.
So if creationists aren’t allowed to cling to a non-empirical interpretation of reality as a security blanket, scientists certainly can’t: we hold ourselves to a higher standard of the truth. If you want to argue that thermodynamics or stat mech are wrong, then the burden-of-proof is on you to come up with the evidence to prove it, and so far, nobody has: from atoms all the way up to stars
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, entropy seems wholly inviolable. In physics, you’re simply not allowed to reject a conclusion just because you don’t like it.Objection 3: “If you can’t change something, change how you feel about it.”
Another objection that people make is that while we can’t control what the universe is, we can control how we feel about it, and therefore, there’s no reason we have to get depressed about the General State of Affairs just because it’s all meaningless. This is easier said than done: am I expected to be happy that all my friends and family are going to die and disappear forever? Should I be eagerly looking forward to their deaths and start counting down the days like an advent calendar? I certainly hope not! If that were the case, it would make me an absolute nut job!Okay, so if not eagerness, then perhaps I’m being asked to find acceptance in the Grand Futility of Things? To let it all just sort of roll off me like water off a duck’s back? Again, easier said than done: suppose you and someone you love are standing on top of a really tall building, then they lose their balance and begin to fall off the edge, turning towards you and reaching with an outstretched arm. What do you do? Do you smile serenely with Buddha-like calm and cheerfully wave to them as they plummet to their deaths, noting with quiet satisfaction your absolute unattachment to this illusory world of ephemerality and transience? No way! You reach out and grab them, because you don’t want them to die!
But saving a life really just means postponing a death: if you wouldn’t accept the death of your loved one today slipping off a building, why should you be any more willing to accept it tomorrow when they’re about to get run over in traffic, or the day after when they’re about to be exposed to a deadly disease? Why should you ever be willing to accept it?
I suppose some people might try to argue that, after a certain point, your loved one’s body and mind will have deteriorated from old age to the point where continuing to keep them alive becomes a law of diminishing returns, that ageing makes people more “ripe” to die. But that just shifts the question to: “why should we be willing to accept senescence?” Why do our bodies have to age? “It’s just the way things are” is no acceptable answer; just because our health does deteriorate over time is no good reason for why it should have to. Imagine if you lived in a universe where it was the custom, after eating any slice of chocolate cake, to hit yourself in the head with a hammer, and the only explanation you got from people on why they did this was “that’s just the way things are.” That which is has nothing at all to do with that which should be.
I can’t understand how I’m expected to do everything possible to keep alive the people I care about today, but then at some random and unknowable arbitrary future date suddenly agree to bow to the whims of fate and concede that it is indeed a person’s “time to go,” as if any one person or thing could ever pronounce judgment on when someone’s “time to go” is supposed to occur. Senescence is cruel, mortality is wrong, every death is a premature one, and I can’t fathom how acceptance of death is in any way a distinct attitude from being indifference towards it. “Changing how I feel” about death and futility sounds an awful lot like I’m being asked to become Burning Dog.
Objection 4: “Enjoy the things that matter now.”
Some might try to argue that if everything’s going to rubble no matter what, we ought to enjoy what we have now and try to get as much mileage out of what little good there is in this world before it’s gone.I want to embrace this kind of thinking, but in practice I find it extremely hard to follow-through on; every time I try to really passionately care about a project, a hobby, an intellectual pursuit, another person, I keep getting reminded of how the higher I climb the harder I’ll fall: the more of myself I try to invest in something or someone, the more it’s going to hurt when those things and people get ripped away from me, and if there’s one inescapable certainty it’s that everything will get ripped away sooner or later. Every person and thing’s existence is finite, but its *non-*existence is infinite: it’s a transaction you always end up losing out on in the end. Trying to care about anything and get invested in it and make it a meaningful part of my life makes me feel a little bit like Charlie Brown running to kick the football: oh, I can certainly try, but sooner or later Lucy’s always going to pull it away and leave me flat on my ass, and running faster just means hitting the dirt harder.
This makes it always feel like everything I do, my heart’s not really in it, like I’m never really committed to fighting for anything as hard as I could be: I tend to let acquaintances atrophy and die out, abandon hobbies or studies and leave projects half-finished; I feel like I’ve been grinding through life by functioning at only about 30% operating capacity for years now. I’ll start trying to pick up a new language, learn a new musical instrument, or work on a textbook or publication... then I’ll be reminded of how pointless it all is in the long-run, and I’ll feel kind of naive for caring enough to even start these pursuits in the first place.
Even long-term goals like “make the word a better place for the people who come after me once I’m gone” feel a little hollow and empty, because no matter how hard I work to improve the world, in the end the species is going to die and all of our efforts will be forgotten anyway. It’s sort of like I don’t want to give nature the satisfaction of seeing my dreams crumble, so I’ve preemptively refused to have any dreams or goals at all. If the football’s just going to be yanked away anyway, it’s better to just flip Lucy the bird and walk away rather than committing myself to a target I’ll never actually reach.
I can’t exactly say that lurching through the world day-to-day, year after year, as a deliberately self-hollowed-out zombie-person feels good – at best, it’s just me taking the spite that reality threw at me and winging it right back – but what else can I do? I’ve seen the infinity of the continuity spectrum stretch out before me, and along every possible path, the end is always the same. If I can’t change the outcome, then why am I supposed to care about what happens leading up to it? This world forces me to care about people and things, then refuses to ever let me save any of them. In a way, I suppose I’m jealous of nihilists: if I could only bring myself to not care about anything or anyone, then it wouldn’t have to keep hurting so much every time I keep losing them.
Objection 5: “Purposelessness is necessary for freedom.”
Some people will argue that it’s good that the universe is inherently meaningless: what if it had an inherent meaning, and that meaning was one you didn’t agree with? Then you’d be stuck with it, a slave to some natural directive to which you’d never consented and which you could never control.In general I’d agree with that, though there’s a fine line between a universe absent any inherent purpose, versus a universe which is very explicitly anti-purpose: the former is a blank canvas, an empty page inviting you to draw on it and fill it with your own ideas; the latter is an art gallery that’s on fire. Sure, you could find a place to start painting something in a currently-burning-down building, but what’s the point? It’s all going to be ashes in a few minutes anyway. You can have a universe devoid of an explicit purpose which isn’t also constantly and aggressively cannibalizing itself into nothingness; you can have freedom without futility. The two ideas are not causally related.
Objection 6: “Things need to disappear in order for us to be able to enjoy them.”
Some would further argue that the only reason we’re able to enjoy anything at all is precisely because it will eventually disappear: they equate beauty or value with impermanence, and insist that, in a world where people and things didn’t vanish, we’d grow bored with them and get sick of their existence.This argument makes no sense to me: suppose you have a friend who hangs a particular picture up in their home because they like the way it looks. The next day, you come back and find out that your friend lit that picture on fire. When you ask them why, they casually explain: “oh, I did enjoy it, but it was only a matter of time before I grew bored with it; knowing that, I decided to preemptively get rid of it before my enjoyment of it became stale. I actually do that with all the pictures in my house all the time: every morning I hang up a new picture, and every night I set it on fire and replace it with an even newer one.”
You would probably think this friend was out of their mind, and that’s just based on evaluating their behavior within the context of objects like pictures to hang up*:* try extending your friend’s “argument” to other, living things in their life that they might enjoy, like house plants or pets or family members, and it starts getting dark awfully fast.
Even if you do grow tired of a particular person or thing or activity, why on earth would you assume that the only remedy is to erase it from existence? If you have a falling-out with a friend, you just stop hanging out with that friend and find other friends to spend time with instead; you would never say to yourself: “well, I no longer enjoy this person’s presence, so clearly the only solution is that they need to die.” You can remove people and things from your life without needing to remove them from everyone’s!
Objection 7: “Suffering is necessary in order for joy to exist.”
Some people will argue that it’s only with the removal of suffering that we’re able to feel happiness and joy, therefore suffering must be a necessary part of the universe if we’re to feel any happiness.First of all, it’s easy to say that a reality which contains neither suffering, nor the relief from it, would be worse than our current reality, because nobody can ever check to see if this is true; it’s a conveniently non-falsifiable assertion.
Second, I would also push back on the idea that happiness is the relief from suffering, because that’s simply not true: if you aren’t noticeably hungry but someone gives you a cookie, does your absence of any conspicuous hunger or discomfort make the cookie impossible to enjoy? Of course not! You’d still enjoy it, even if you hadn’t been starving at the time. If someone shows you a pretty painting that you enjoy, were they relieving some sort of conspicuous and painfulabsence of art from your life that needed to be remedied right that moment? Probably not; odds are that, until you saw the painting, the thought that you could have been spending that moment looking at art probably hadn’t even crossed your mind at all. So if suffering is not necessary for joy, then is it really necessary at all?
Objection 8: “But what if God.”
And then there are people who know that we’re all going to die but aren’t super worried about it because they believe death’s just a transition and that we all continue to exist forever in some eternal paradise, and oh yeah, all that suffering and death and misery you notice on earth? Turns out it’s all part of some grander hidden plan which would all make perfect sense if only you knew what it was, but it just so happens to be impossible for the limited faculties of the mortal mind to grasp. Oh, well!There’s a lot to unpack with this one, and I couldn’t really do it justice without having to write an entirely separate post about it, but the short version is that the arguments here are just a repeat of the arguments we’ve already seen in Objection 2: “What if all the horrible stuff you have observed can all be rationalized or explained or justified by all the stuff you haven’t observed?” Great idea, and also conveniently impossible to disprove since you’ve predicated it specifically around stuff that nobody’s observed. If that’s your argument, then the burden-of-proof is on you to find evidence for it; if you can’t find evidence for it, then it’s just wishful thinking, since an optimistic non-empirical interpretation of reality is infinitely less likely than one which doesn’t specifically favor the happiness of a few pinpricks of matter that collectively make up about one part in 10^44 of the total mass in the universe.
The upshot
I guess what I’m getting at is, has anybody else gone through this experience? Has anyone found a coping mechanism for this that actually works? I’d very much like to stop worrying about death so I can get on with life, to not have to hold back and keep in reserve all of my passion and energy and determination all the time, to not sabotage myself at every turn or constantly keep everybody else at arms’ length. I’d like to actually feel invested in this world and fight for it as though the things I did really mattered and that my life actually did make a difference... even though everythingIknow to be true flatly asserts the contrary. How do you get on with things when your ability to function depends upon a belief that’s repeatedly been shown to be false by laws so general that they are, for all intents and purposes, irrefutable?The most sensible thing I’ve heard anybody say so far is that we should still at least fight to make the world a better place in the near-term, even if everything further down theroad is pointless. But it’s hard to feel motivated to actively try to work at doing good in this world when you know you’ll never really be able to fix anything or permanently improve things: the best you can hope for is to slightly postpone the date when everything inevitably falls apart. I guess I just don’t see how it makes sense to be motivated to build a bigger and fancier sand castle when I’m always able to see the tide just about to come in. Are there any answers to this problem that we haven’t covered already in the above?
TL;DR: I pulled back the curtain to peek at the source code for reality and it broke my brain; now everything’s pointless and nobody who hasn’t gone through the same experience will ever understand it. Is there a way for me to function again, or am I stuck in first-gear forever now?
submitted byDaliScaldngWrstwatchtotherapy [link][comments]
2021.12.20 16:01 larki18[Q, DEC 2012] The singer counts family hiking trips and 'dinner at the Flowers house' among his most content moments. 'I want to be myself. I live my life how I want to. Isn't that the idea of what rock and roll is? I am more rock and roll than just about anybody else that you're going to meet.'
Typed up from the physical magazine, apologies for any errors.
submitted bylarki18toTheKillers [link][comments]There is always enough time for prayer. This is what Brandon Flowers tells himself while he is rushing around as the frontman for a mammoth rock band. Often he'll be halfway out of some upscale suite in whatever country The Killers happen to be touring when the opening lines of a pertinent Mormon hymn will spring to mind: 'Ere you left your room this morning, did you think to pray?' Then he'll take a couple of quiet minutes to give thanks for what he has, ask that his loved ones be kept safe and meekly request that he not embarrass himself. 'Sometimes I'll pray in the middle of the day,' says Flowers. 'I'm happier when I'm praying in the morning and at night.'
It is Monday, 24 September and The Killers are in Los Angeles, California. Flowers chooses to meet at the restaurant of his West Hollywood hotel, where we take an outside table shaded from the midday sun. Tanned, healthy and handsome, the 5'11' singer could have stepped down from one of the fashion billboards lining nearby Sunset Boulevard. He appears laid-back in a plain blue t-shirt and jeans but our initial conversation is puzzlingly tense. Knuckles are methodically cracked, eye contact is avoided and 'I don't know,' politely delivered in his gentle rural voice, because a quite irritating catchphrase.
Fifteen minutes or so pass before Flowers begins to warm up. When The Killers first got underway with their 2004 album, Hot Fuss, his concept of what a rockstar should be had been gleaned from boyhood devotion to Morrissey, New Order and Oasis. What emerged was a truculent poseur in eyeliner. Now that he is 31 years old, Flowers has had the chance to figure things out for himself. Raised as a Mormon, he didn't give serious thought to full church commitment until reaching his mid-20s. 'I still hadn't chosen which path I was going to go down,' he says. 'Was I going to go to Ziggy Stardust or Mormonism?' A gee whiz soprano laugh. 'I made my decision and once that was solidified it's become very easy for me.' Flowers hasn't touched alcohol or cigarettes for the past five years, nor does he take drugs. Married since 2005 with three young sons, the singer counts family hiking trips and 'dinner at the Flowers house' among his most content moments. 'I want to be myself,' he says of these quaint pleasures. 'I live my life how I want to. Isn't that the idea of what rock and roll is? I am more rock and roll than just about anybody else that you're going to meet.'
We are talking the day after The Killers' new album, Battle Born, has topped the UK's charts. The Las Vegas quartet's preceding three studio releases all did the same, so this is very much business as usual. Still, no other American band in history has unfailingly hit Number 1 from their debut onwards. Such an impressive profile, along with worldwide sales exceeding the 15 million mark, hasn't been attained without a substantial amount of road work. Eventually the mileage proved too high for some; following 2008's Day & Age, bassist Mark Stoermer and guitarist Dave Keuning indicated that they wanted a rest. Consequently, barring a few festival dates and 4 July concert on the White House lawn, The Killers were put on hold for most of 2010. That year Flowers found success with his own record, Flamingo, while Stoermer and drummer Ronnie Vannucci both dabbled in less conspicuous side-projects. Asked what the other Killers thought of his solo material, Flowers says that the subject doesn't really come up but Vannucci told him that he liked it.
Having reconvened in May of last year, the band has no apparent difficulty in picking up exactly where they left off. The marketing push for Battle Born included a short documentary made by fatalistic German director Werner Herzog. Uninformed viewers of the 18 September online premiere could have been forgiven for supposing that The Killers are a power trio. 'On the day of this filming, Dave Keuning (guitar) was not to be found,' declared an elucidatory caption. So where was he? 'I forget,' Flowers claims. 'He just didn't show up. He's allowed to do what he wants.'
A couple of hours later Keuning unravels this particular mystery, 'They probably want me to lie but I was in Hawaii,' he admits. 'I planned a vacation and I didn't want to break it. The cat's out of the bag now!'
We we are at a downtown Warehouse in which The Killers have assembled to be photographed. Coincidentally, the video for Flowers' single Crossfire - wherein actress Charlize Theron rescues the captive singer from malicious ninjas - was shot here two years ago. Lazing on a battered green sofa in an austere anteroom, Keuning distractedly toys with the acoustic guitar that he purchased earlier today. 'It's a 1921 Gibson,' he says. 'It didn't cost as much as you might think; twenty-one hundred bucks.
Keuning (correctly pronounced to 'rhyme with tuning', he notes) started The Killers after moving to Las Vegas from his native Iowa in 2000. He sought like-minded musicians by advertising in a free weekly newspaper and Flowers responded. By 2002 in the wake of a few rhythm section personnel changes, the existing lineup was finalized. While Flowers has since conducted several image experiments involving feather epaulettes, pink leather and a mustache, Keuning is consistently identifiable by his fashion-resistant big hair. Indeed, minus Flowers' boutique panache the remaining killers are all brawn, boots and beards; they wouldn't look out of place crammed into a pickup truck with a deer carcass lashed to the bonnet.
Nobody seems overly concerned that Flowers is positioned as the face and voice of The Killers; Keuning neatly distills the pros and cons of Other Guy status. 'It just depends on my mood,' he says. 'Sometimes it's annoying when I'll be doing a guitar solo and some people would rather watch Brandon drink a bottle of water. Other times, when he does more work to do interviews, it's relaxing for me. I can be like, oh, I'll spend an extra hour at the hotel. What does he get out of that? Extra attention. We all share in the benefits of promotion equally so in the end it doesn't matter.'
When the 36-year-old does participate in media duties he is intermittently left feeling irked by the results. 'I've been let down,' Keuning sighs before recounting how a recent magazine article portrayed him as 'some fruit cake'. Previously he has been depicted in print as a tetchy oaf, which is not true. Yes, taken purely at face value Keuning is the band's most unreconstructed component: he owns a 1979 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am similar to the one driven by Burt Reynolds in Smokey And The Bandit; once within this vehicle he blasts '80s heavy metal cassettes through the ancient tape deck because it is 'part of the experience'; his favorite drink is a nameless, self-invented cocktail consisting of equal parts Jägermeister, Red Bull and cranberry juice that he insists is delicious. 'Everyone thinks I'm so aggressive,' he says at the mention of his short fuse. 'I've broken a TV or two in hotel rooms but I'm not that bad a person.' In a matter of seconds it becomes clear that Keuning would rather be described as emotional rather than fiery.
Regarding the band's hiatus, Keuning details how relentless the schedule had been up until that point. 'It was non-stop,' he concludes. 'I wanted to live in normal life, just for a bit.' Keuning's primary motivation for taking a break was seeing more of his seven-year-old son, Kyler. 'I felt that I needed to be around for at least a year to teach him how to ride a bike,' he reasons. 'So I'm sorry if no one's sympathetic but fuck you.' The guitarist is not currently staying in Los Angeles with everyone else, preferring instead to commute to nearly two hours from his home in San Diego because this is where Kyler and 'the mother of my child' live. Keuning's affability falters only when discussing the complex relationship that he has with this woman. 'For the record, it's on-off,' he says. 'It's driving me nuts, it's not very fun and I'd rather not talk about it.' We skip on to the lighter topic of his typical leisure activities instead. 'I do things like buy guitars to make myself feel better,' he says plaintively. 'Or maybe play basketball in the backyard by myself. I never have anyone to play with.'
Flowers' pokes his head around the door. 'Checking in?' asks Keuning. 'Can I grab my shirt?' The bare-chested singer replies. He is partially changed into somber formal trousers that rakishly hang short over black scuffed shoes. His 29-inch waist and athletic physique are the obvious rewards of daily visits to the gym. By contrast Keuning is not yet totally match fit and carries a slight paunch that he makes no effort to hold in. Flowers swigs from a small plastic container containing a chocolate-flavored protein shake called Muscle Milk. 'This is lunch,' he says.
Tonight The Killers are the featured act on Jimmy Kimmel Live!, a chat show that is actually pre-recorded. It is early evening when Flowers arrives at the studio. There are a few hundred fans patiently waiting by the rear gates, close to the car park where the band will perform. Flowers' chauffeur-driven SUV pulls up and idles alongside the queue as admittance is arranged. 'The zombies are out,' growls the driver. Perched on the back seat, Flowers chuckles nervously and widens his eyes in disbelief at this nonchalant unpleasantness. The singer is mostly shielded from public view by tinted glass but one lucky teenage girl spots him through the windscreen. Her bashfully awestruck expression suggests that this is quite a major event. As the barrier swings open Flowers offers a little wave and turns his smile up to seven. Even accounting for obsessive local attitudes to dentistry, the singer's front teeth are strikingly white and straight.
'They're fake,' says Flowers. 'I had braces and I didn't take good care of them. When it was time to get the braces off they took pieces of tooth with them. I was 14. I went to school and people kept trying to tell me that I had food in my teeth but they were holes. Eventually I had to get veneers.'
Before you decided to become so clean living what's the most drunk you've ever been?Maybe when I was 18 or 19. We used to go to nightclubs and things. I think everybody's been to that point where they think they might die. I can remember the next day, if I could have spoken I would have said, 'Take me to the hospital.' I'd been drinking gin. I hate gin.
Are you judgmental at all if the rest of the band has a drink?
No! You've got to choose what you're going to do. That's one of the gifts that I believe we're given on this Earth. I don't see...I'm not looking down at anybody for that.
What makes you feel guilty?
Being on the road away from my kids. You get accustomed to their innocence and I really miss not just them but that too. And I feel guilty sometimes when I swear too much. That's something I'm working on, getting rid of that.
You're like something out of the '50s...
Yeah, I'm not hard-edged [laughs]. My upbringing was really solid and I think that has a lot to do with it. I didn't have a lot of strife in my life.
I get the impression that you'd rather be at home mowing the lawn than out on tour.
No, I love being on tour. It's just that I have...I've got to take care of my kids. I'm not going to be that sad when it slows down. It's just a natural...it's inevitable.
Inevitable that one day your appeal will become more selective?
What do you mean?
That you'll probably slow down when you're selling less records.
No, no, no. It would be our choice; it wouldn't be because people liked us less. I have enough appeal to last for another...I think I've got a couple more decades in me.
The Killers are yet to sound check but backstage in Jimmy Kimmel's hospitality lounge somebody has already had too much excitement. 'I'm taking him home,' says Flowers' elfin blonde wife, Tana, as she carries 18-month-old Henry toward the exit. The couple's other sons, Ammon, five, and Gunnar, three, are left in their father's care. 'Don't let these two get drunk,' Tana jokingly warns.
Helping Flowers with this task is his 43-year-old brother, Shane, who has come along to watch the band's set. The singer says that he doesn't really have a nickname but all of his siblings - he also has four older sisters - call him Bray. The first song that Flowers ever learned the words to with The Cure's 1987 single Just Like Heaven, which he heard through Shane's bedroom door when he was five. In addition to a parallel music taste, the two men share a natural ability at golf bordering on the professional. Brandon has been forced to neglect his game since early summer, when he underwent surgery on a pinched nerve in his left shoulder.
This injury doesn't cause any visible distress as dusk falls and the band go before the cameras to rip through Battle Born's lead single, Runaways. They throw in five untelevised live staples - including a tremendously vigorous rendition of their breakthrough anthem Mr. Brightside - for the deserving spectators before filing back inside. Exertion over, Flowers contendedly hunkers down on a sofa with his brother and a bag of carbo-loaded goodies from regional fast food chain, In-N-Out burger.
At precisely 3 p.m. the following day Mark Stoermer meets me in the hall lobby of a hotel opposite Grauman's Chinese Theater. We take the lift to the top floor and enter an opulently furnished 1,200 square feet space that turns out to be his room. The 35-year-old bassist is residing apart from the rest of the band chiefly because this address is much closer to their various planned appointments. He also values some degree of independence. 'On a day off I take advantage of doing my own thing instead of being in a confined situation where every decision's made as a group,' he says. 'I'll go to a museum or, more often, I'll just chill out and try to pretend like it's normal.' Stormer might also call his girlfriend, have a very occasional drink or watch a film; he especially admires the work of Woody Allen, Federico Fellini and Ingmar Bergman.
On 21 June 2011 Flowers turned 30. None of the killers got him anything as the band has a tacit agreement not to buy presents for each other. This hasn't always been the case though. Six years ago Stoermer bought everyone a Beatles songbook as a Christmas gift. 'I had this vision that we'd learn these songs on the road and sing them backstage,' he says. 'That didn't happen. I never even saw anyone carrying their book around.' Stoermer doesn't recall hearing anything in the way of gratitude, either. Introverted by nature, Stoermer is in the all-too-rare habit of speaking only when he has something to say. 'I feel like I'm out of my shell compared to when I was 16,' he says. 'I definitely was shy. I only had a few friends but I had music. I would listen to albums everyday in their entirety, just sit there with headphones on and escape to a different world.'
As an adolescent one of Stoermer's few friends was Tommy Marth. They knew each other from playing together in a jazz ensemble at school. When The Killers wanted some brass on Sam's Town, their 2006 follow up to Hot Fuss, Stoermer thought that Marth would be perfect. A capable saxophonist with a big personality, Marth fitted in well and returned for Day & Age before becoming a touring member of the band. There was talk of having him contribute to Battle Born but it never happened. Marth was found dead in his Las Vegas home on 23 April 2012, killed by a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. He was 33 years old.
Stoermer: I knew Tommy probably the best. What can you really say? I think in hindsight I knew that he was going through stuff and was disturbed about a lot of things but at the same time he always put on this kind of joker persona. I took it pretty hard.
Flowers: It makes...it's just shocking. He's the last person you would think would do that. What strange is that he's the one who brought light to the backstage area, brought levity when it was a grind.
Keuning: I'll never forget that he texted me a few days before saying, 'Hey, if you're in town let's hang out.' I said, 'No, I'm sorry, I can't. I'm in San Diego.' His response was like, 'No worries, Dave. You're a good guy.' That struck me as odd that he would say something really nice. But he already knew then what he was doing. I wish I could call him but I can't.
Vannucci: My heart just goes out to his family. I mean, how I feel ...who gives a shit about that? He was a whip-smart mega-talented dude who could talk to anybody. He was likeable, you know? It was a tragedy that he just went, kind of, circling the drain all of a sudden. You never can tell, man...it's not a perfect world for a lot of people.
Wednesday, 26 September. It is mid-afternoon and The Killers are preparing to play the Henry Fonda theater, the 1,300 capacity Hollywood venue that they could fill every night until Christmas. Backstage - understage, to be accurate - Ronnie Vannucci unlocks a tall flight case in which his belongings are stored. The top drawer holds Clinique moisturizer ('We got that at the Jonathan Ross show') and a selection of cotton boxer briefs. 'I like to be held in tight when I perform,' he says. 'Then I peel 'em off and throw 'em at the nearest groupie.'
Vannucci has been married for 9 years so these tawdry souvenirs actually end up nowhere than in the nearest bin. He cracks open a lower compartment and conspiratorially nods his head towards the bottle of Laphroaig malt whiskey peeping out. As it is a show day, Vannucci won't be partaking before the job is done. 'I've seen plenty of bands that go on half-cocked and I don't enjoy that,' he says. 'I want to see somebody who's got their shit together.' Vannucci is a straightforward and gregarious character, keen to banter with whoever happens to be within range. As we move into The Killers' dressing room a passerby asks him how he is doing. 'I am hanging in there and loving it!' comes the answer as he pushes the door shut.
Without an audience Vannucci is more subdued. The surreptitiously urbane drummer's interests include classical composition, architecture and the outdoors ('I like riding bikes and shit') but he is disinclined to share too much information about life away from The Killers. Now that the band has been going for 10 years, Vannucci considers whether he originally imagined that it would last this long. 'In a weird way I did but I've reached that age when you realize the mortality of everything,' he says. 'I'm 36 and I have all these friends with marriages dissolving. Nothing lasts forever. I'm sort of like, Fuck, take it day by day because anything can happen. I'm just waiting for the bottom to drop out!'
Perhaps because they first met as bandmates rather than friends, The Killers are four vastly different people. Vannucci says that, having spent most of their adult life together, these disparate characters have nonetheless formed an extremely intimate connection. 'It's deep, man,' he says. 'You sort of have this suspended adolescence where you're the kids and you've got mom and dad doing your laundry and taking care of you so you bicker about the small things. Just like, God! Where are the avocados? I think we're growing out of that a bit.' Fruit quarrels aside, Vannucci is mildly piqued at the reoccurring misconception that they are all Mormons. In common with Keuning, the drummer is broadly agnostic. Stoermer, a former philosophy student, doesn't follow religion or think that there is 'a guy with a beard watching us' but trusts in a transcendent universal force. Any doubt about Flowers' beliefs evaporated last year when he became the face of the church's 'I'm a Mormon' video PR campaign.
Providing this endorsement earned Flowers sufficient brownie points with the church that he was permitted to examine some of the artifacts held their Salt Lake City headquarters. Here he thumbed through a Book of Mormon, the group's sacred guiding text, previously owned and rigorously annotated by Elvis Presley. 'Elvis wrote, There can only be one King,' says Flowers. 'He didn't like being called The King because, to him, Jesus Christ was The King. It was so cool that I got to see that.' Flowers has been feeling a lot of questions about his faith lately. Politics, too. This is because Mitt Romney is a fellow mormon. The Republican presidential candidate has officially acclaimed The Killers, a bunch of country artists and Aerosmith. In 2011 Flowers met Romney at Caesars Palace on the Las Vegas strip for a lunch, the specifics of which he keeps purposefully vague.
Would life be a bit easier for you at the moment if the world's most famous Mormon wasn't running for president?
A lot easier [laughs].
Is that because people expect you to express a political opinion?
Yeah. I mean, I have an opinion on certain things but I don't feel educated enough to really be weighing in. One thing I can tell you is from my interpretation and observation of growing up, the left side in America is seen as sort of elitist sometimes. So, even though their ideals are to help poor people more, it's off-putting to the poor guy. I can see why my dad would have said, 'I'm a Republican' without hesitation when really the left side is more in his favor [Flowers' retired father, Terry, had a varied but steadfastly blue-collar career]. I'm just coming to grips with all that and absorbing it. I'm definitely not in any place to be preaching either way. I have a foot on both sides, I think.
Where are you in the top 10 Mormons?
Ha! I must be number 2, right?
What about the Osmonds?
I don't know. They're on the way out.
Is the music business really any place for a good Mormon boy?
I have no problems with it [laughs]. I'm making my way alright.
The Killers are due on stage at nine o'clock, which is 45 minutes away. Loosening up by the building's side entrance, Keuning cheerily holds out a large plastic cup. 'Do you want to try my drink?' He asks. The guitarist was right; his viscous crimson formula of liquor, fruit juice and sugary caffeinated water really is very tasty. After the show Flowers will be the only one who doesn't mingle with invited guests at a modest party held on the roof. This is standard practice; there are, he explains, only so many Cokes you can have at the bar. When Flowers approaches his microphone he feels as if an internal switch is being flipped that puts him into frontman mode. Reverting to wholesome type is just as immediate, though residual energy absorbed from the crowd when the controls are set to rock tends to keep him awake. Sometime around 4 a.m. in a silent hotel room three miles away Brandon Flowers says his prayers and goes to sleep.
2021.12.20 10:17 HeadOfSpectreThe Christmas Pageant
Over the years, I’ve had multiple people ask me about the Christmas Pageant held in my mothers hometown of Forsel, in the Netherlands. So, given the particular time of year I thought it only right that I take the time to finally discuss it.
I will warn you up front, the Forsel Christmas Pageant is not exactly what one might immediately expect when they hear the words ‘Christmas Pageant.’ I would honestly say that the name does not exactly fit it well. But that is what they have called it for as long as I can remember and if it has any other name, I do not know it.
The tradition probably dates back longer than Forsel has even existed. I don’t know the full history behind it, and I’m not entirely sure that there is anyone still alive who does. Even those in Forsel who still hold fast to the old traditions, probably don’t know where they came from anymore. It’s all been lost to time and buried by history.
Because of all of that: I can provide no real answers beyond what little I experienced firsthand. I have however, drawn some of my own conclusions from what I do know and I imagine that you will do the same. Whether there truly is anything behind the Forsel Christmas Pageant or not is really a matter of personal belief. At the end of the day, it is very much just a strange local tradition and may have no real significance towards the rest of the world. Whatever the case, it is what I grew up with and despite everything, I still do hold my fond memories of it.
When I was a young boy, I participated in the Forsel Christmas Pageant. But then again, so does every other child under 12. Participation is considered to be mandatory, although that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun. While yes, the pageant itself is a rather formal and somewhat dour affair, kids will still be kids. Put enough of them in a room together and they’ll find some way to have fun.
I was a bit of an odd case amongst some of the other children. My mother had been born in Forsel, but she’d moved to the United States where she’d met my father years ago. Most of the year, we lived in a decent sized house in the American suburbs. But during November and December, we’d spend our time in Forsel, living with my grandparents.
I used to look forward to it every year. Not just because I got a couple of months away from school, but because I had friends in town. It was always exciting to see them and catch up. It was like for a couple of months, I could live an entirely different life, just for a little while. I wasn’t the only one who only ‘lived’ in Forsel during the Holiday season. A lot of people who’d moved abroad came back for the Christmas Pageant. They’d bring their kids to participate and it was just as fun to see them too. Most of them had moved to America, but some had come from Canada, England and a few other surrounding countries. The Christmas Pageant brought us all together. We would play games during breaks, or after rehearsals. We’d play in the snow, out by the pageant grounds or play hide and seek in the forest so long as it wasn’t too dark. In fact, I remember looking forward to rehearsal days just because I knew I’d get to see my friends.
I remember once, my friend Bram and I caught hell from one of the organizers during a dress rehearsal when we took advantage of a break to go tobogganing out back. Our costumes had been covered in snow when we’d returned and the old woman who’d been organizing the pageant that year chewed us both out in dutch for the better part of fifteen minutes. She’d made us finish the rehearsal soaking wet as punishment, but I can’t say either of us regretted a thing, even though I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life.
Looking back on it, I suppose it is a little bit funny how excited I was for the pageant every year. As I said before, the actual proceedings are a little bit dull and I can’t quite say that it was very ‘Christmassy’. Not in the conventional sense, at least. But that’s Forsel for you. Their traditions are a little simpler than what most others are used to. In fact, I couldn’t tell you of a single place in the world that does Christmas the same way they do it in Forsel and I’m genuinely not sure I mean that entirely as a compliment. I’ve seen how the rest of the world views the holiday and how drastically different it is from what I grew up with. Outside of Forsel, there’s much more focus on the upbeat aspects of the holiday. The bright colors, the gifts, and the jolly old man in red. Yes, you get some of that in Forsel, but not quite as much. Christmas was always a much more quiet and formal affair.
For example, their Christmas season didn’t officially start until December. There were no decorations in November, as those were considered to bring bad luck. It was usually mid December before anyone began decorating and even then, they weren’t quite as flashy as some of the ones I’ve seen in other parts of the world.
There were no elaborate lights or figurines. It was all very traditional. Grandma and Grandpa would decorate their home with bits of greenery. Handmade evergreen wreaths and boughs of holly, amongst other things. Nothing plastic or bought from a store. That was partially because the nearest place to buy such things was an hour or so drive out of town, and partially because they all seemed to look down on such things as an omen of bad luck.
We’d cut our Christmas trees from the forest outside of town and decorate them with old ornaments, most of which were handmade by our grandparents although each member of the family contributed a decoration or two of their own making in time. There were no carolers, or special holiday sales in the local shops. Nobody dressed up as Santa Claus and there were very few, if any parties. Outside of the decorations, Christmas was always a quiet and family focused affair. The only major community gathering they had was the pageant which was held every year on the evening of December 20th.
It came around like clockwork and was carried out in much the same way. As I said before, every child under 12 was required to participate. Usually, there wouldn’t be more than 20 or 30 of us, almost half of whom weren’t full time residents. Being a small town, Forsel didn’t have very many children and by the time I left, that number had dwindled to around 15, including those who came down just for the pageant. There are probably even less of them now...
The pageant was never particularly exciting to either watch or to perform. But everyone in town came to see it all the same, and every child participated in it. As the sun set on December 20th, everyone in town would venture out to the pageant grounds on the edge of town.
The pageant grounds were carved in stone, near the edge of the forest. People brought their own chairs to set them down and would watch as the children gathered with their backs to the trees. They would assemble in rows with the youngest in the front and the oldest in the back, all of them dressed in red cloaks lined with white furs and they would sing.
The songs they had them sing were always… Strange. The lyrics weren’t in any language I know. In fact, I’m not sure just what language they were in at all. I have looked (halfheartedly) for an answer but I’ve never found one. We all knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean, of course. We had all read the lyric sheets which came with a translation. Although I don’t think any of us thought too hard on any of it. It wasn’t until recently when I thought about the Forsel Christmas Pageant that I truly stopped to think about them and realized just how odd they were.
The translated lyrics were as follows, (although my memory is a bit rusty, so if there are some errors, please forgive me)
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.L
ight the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Follow the song. Follow the song.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
The song doesn’t make much sense outside of context, unfortunately and translated into English, I’d say that it loses most of its impact. That said... I’d be lying if I said that reading these words again after all these years didn’t send an icy chill through me. I can still hear the low chanting of children, reciting the song in its original language. No music to accompany them, just a chorus of young voices speaking words they didn’t understand to a sea of adults who regarded the whole affair with a stern intensity.
This was always the first song sung that began the pageant and it was the most important. There were other songs sung after this, of course. But nothing with quite the same impact. Nothing in that bizarre, forgotten language that no one understood. The other songs were more traditional Dutch carols, the kind you’d hear elsewhere in the Netherlands and most of the children participated in those while the other part of the pageant was prepared.
Every year, two of the oldest children would be selected from the group of 12 year olds who wouldn’t be participating next year. It was always people chosen both by the other children, and by the adults and it was always someone thought well of by the community. They were usually the kids who did well in school, were kind to their friends and treated others with empathy. ‘Good’ kids.
Most children don’t see the full extent of the Forsel Christmas Pageant. Sure, they hear things. Rumors, whispers… But they dismiss them. I know I did. I wrote it off as some odd tradition and maybe it is. Maybe there really is nothing more to it… But I don’t know if I believe that. When I was told that I was one of the ones who was chosen amongst my peers, I was beyond excited. I’d seen it happen to others over the years. During the pageant, while the younger children sang, the oldest would quietly leave and retreat into the woods with one of the adults.
They would remain absent until the last song, when at last they would return. We never saw what they did and nobody ever talked about it. But I knew that it involved the chosen children doing something special. But I’d never imagined that I would be one of the ones who was picked. I wasn’t a full time resident, but I guess that hadn’t stopped them before. I was a good student back at home (much to the pride of my Grandparents who were quite vocal about it). I had lots of friends both in Forsel and back home and I got along well with just about everybody. But I probably could’ve named others who were a better fit. Maybe that was why I was the ideal choice? I can’t say… But I was excited nonetheless.
The other child who had chosen alongside me was a girl named Mila. Unlike me, she lived in Forsel full time and I only somewhat knew her. I can’t say we were ever really friends. I had heard whispers and rumors about her of course, none of which were very flattering. Even in a small town, kids can be cruel.
What I did know for sure however was that her family life was not a happy one. Her father had passed away years ago, although I could not tell you how and her mother worked long hours at a local lumber mill. Without any other family in her life, Mila had started down a difficult path. I’d heard that she missed school often, and while I was in Forsel, I’d seen her in a pickup truck, belonging to some stranger from out of town a few times. A man who was at least old enough to drive. Once my friend Bram and I had spotted her sleeping in a tent in the woods. You could smell the alcohol on her from a good distance away.
Her life was not set up to be a happy one and knowing what I knew about her, I pitied her more than anything else. She was not who I would have expected to be chosen alongside me… But I never resented her for that. If anything, I couldn’t help but be happy for her. Perhaps this would be a good thing? Maybe it was a sign that things were getting better for her? Who could say.
During the rehearsals, the adults spent extra time with me and the other children my age. We would stay longer, while the other kids were allowed to play and we would venture into the woods to a small, snowy clearing. There they told us how we would be here, after the opening song of the pageant. They told the others how they were to wait, patiently and silently while Mila and I were to venture alone into the woods.
They said it was part of the tradition, that the path was clearly marked so we wouldn’t get lost… I never questioned any of it. It was too exciting to question it! It’s funny, tell a person they were chosen, tell them that they’re special… They’ll do just about anything. All of it was just part of the tradition. Part of the pageant… They never let us actually go down that path. They said we could only go down that path in the woods on the day of the pageant. They never explicitly told us what we’d be doing when we went down there either. They simply told us that we’d know and of course I trusted them implicitly.
Mila and I never really spoke during the rehearsals (When she was there). I honestly wasn’t sure what to say to her and she mostly preferred to keep to herself anyways. I got the impression that she wasn’t particularly interested in having been chosen… But I didn’t let her lack of enthusiasm kill my own excitement for the coming pageant. I was so blinded by the idea that something special, something very few others had seen was waiting for me that I couldn’t have cared less what she did or didn’t do.
December 20th rolled around. I was 12 years old and it felt like the single proudest day of my life. My age group was the last on the stage. We were dressed in the same red cloaks as the others, but mine and Milas were special amongst them. There was a gold trim to the fur and a shimmering gold pattern on my cloak that marked us as the ones they’d chosen. I still have photographs of myself from that night, beaming with pride, dressed in that red and gold cloak as if I’d just achieved everything I could’ve possibly wanted.
From where I stood on the pageant grounds, I could see the whole town, gathered to watch us. Behind them, sat Forsel. Quaint, quiet and snow capped, lit by a full moon. It was beautiful… Like something out of a holiday postcard. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever see a sight so lovely again. We sang that bizarre opening song. I knew the lyrics without even looking down at the sheet in my hands. I don’t think I’d ever sang it quite so well before. Then, when the unusual chanting song ended, the 12 year olds left quietly and ventured into the woods. I could see one of the adults who had helped us prepare standing by the edge of the trees, an oil lantern in his hand. He gestured for us to follow and we did, staying in single file the entire time.
He didn’t speak. None of us did. The only sound was the crunch of our boots in the snow as we weaved through the trees and into the quiet clearing we’d come to know. There, we stood in a half moon shape. There were only 7 of us, myself and Mila included. The other 5 children looked at me expectantly as they took their positions and the man who’d led us out there (I recall his name was Finn, although I never knew him well) quietly addressed us.
“Tonight is an important night for all of us.” He said, “When you leave this clearing, you will be grown and you can never go back… Do you understand that?”
He was met with silence, but I got the impression that was the answer he’d been expecting. He managed a slight smile before looking at me. He offered me the lantern and I took it.
“You two should go. There’s someone waiting for you up ahead. You’ll know what to do.”
Something about his tone was… Well… It’s hard to describe. Time has taken so much from me, there is so much that I struggle to remember. I don’t remember the name of the man who led us into the woods, I don’t remember the names of a few of the other kids who stood with me in that clearing. I doubt I could recognize most of their faces now. But I remember very clearly the tone in his voice. There was a heaviness to it. An almost regrettable tone. He said it as if it was an apology and I didn’t understand why. Not at first.
The lantern felt heavy in my hand. The man nodded at me and Mila and with one last look back at him, I ventured forward into the forest. Mila didn’t say a word as she followed me. But she lingered behind as if she didn’t want to go. Maybe in her heart, she knew better than to follow me into the woods. But tradition urged her forward and in the end, common sense didn’t stay her feet. She followed in my footsteps. Staying close enough to be in the light, but no closer.
After the first few steps, I didn’t look back as the trees swallowed me up. The moonlight's reflection off of the snow almost made it bright enough to see where I was going even without the lantern and the trees cast sinister shadows around me. But I continued to walk, eyes set ahead, looking for the light of someone else waiting for me.
We kept a slow pace, keeping an eye out for the small stacks of stones and flags tied to branches that marked the way. They were dusted in snow, but I could find them easily enough. After what felt like a half hour of walking though, I never saw any light or any indication that I wasn’t alone. The only sound I heard was the distant singing from the pageant and the low whispers of the wind.
Mila spoke after a while, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
“What exactly are we out here for? How much further do we need to walk?”
“I don’t know.” Was the only reply I could give her. “I suppose we’ll know it when we see it.”
“They didn’t tell you?” She asked, clearly annoyed. I heard her swear and saw her reach under her cloak for a cigarette.
“You shouldn’t. What if you get seen?” I said. She didn’t respond, she just glared at me as if to imply some sort of threat. I thought better of saying anything more about it. I let her trail behind and smoke as I kept walking. The crunch of her boots in the snow and the stink of tobacco was the only thing that told me she was still there.
The next time she spoke, several minutes later it was to suggest that we turn around before we get lost. But I insisted we stay on the path, just to see it through to the end. I could tell that she wanted to turn back anyway. But the darkness behind us was deep. I’m sure that she could have made it back without a light… But she didn’t want to try. She tossed her cigarette aside and picked up the pace behind me, eager to get this over with. I suppose I really couldn’t blame her for that.
It wasn’t much further until we saw the house. I could see it through the trees as we neared the end of the trail. It was old and made of weathered stone. Virgin snow covered the roof and the grounds leading up to it.
The windows were dark but I knew that this was where we were meant to be. My pace quickened as I hurried towards the door. For a moment, I forgot about Mila in my haste to see what was waiting for us, to see what we’d been chosen for! I could hear her running behind me to catch up and stay close to the light. By the time she caught up to me, my hand was already on the door and turning the knob.
It swung open with a gust of wind, and I only barely stopped it from slamming against the wall. I looked back at Mila. Her brow was furrowed in curiosity. She pursed her lips, before stepping inside and calling out:
“Hello?”
There was no answer. The house seemed empty. I’d expected it to be at least a little warmer inside. But the air seemed cold enough to cut me to the bone. I could see Mila shiver as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. She glanced at me cautiously before going further into the house and I’ll admit, I was a little happy to see her showing some enthusiasm about this. I stayed close to her, listening for some other sign of life in that empty house but as far as I could tell there was none.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” She asked as she ventured down the hall and into another room. The room was large, with a large fireplace dominating one wall. I could see some weak embers glowing inside and approached them. The fire was nearly dead. It would need to be stoked. I set about doing just that.
Mila stood behind me, squinting in the darkness to survey the rest of the room. I didn’t notice when she stepped away from me, towards a large table that dominated the center of the room. I was too focused on the fire and getting it restarted. Studying it, I could see the broken, burnt and twisted remains of a couple of oil lanterns, similar to the one I was holding. It seemed as if whoever had set the fire last had smashed their lantern to do so. Odd… I looked over at Mila again. She was standing by the head of the table, holding a dusty bottle of wine beside an ornate crystal glass. She’d pulled the cork off and found it empty. She looked a little bit disappointed.
“No wine and no food.” She said, “What are we supposed to do?”
Wine and food…
The moment she said those words, I understood.
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
The song we’d sang for as long as we could sing… This was the house it spoke of, it had to be! An old house in the forest, covered in unbroken snow with a dying cold fire? It fit too well... What was the next verse?
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.Light the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
I understood…
“It’s a feast. We need to prepare a feast!” I said, “The fire, we need to light it. We need roast meat and red wine!”
“A feast?” She asked, “Like in that song? For what, an old man? There’s nobody here. Let’s go. It’s cold and I don’t want to stay here any longer. We don’t have meat and wine anyways!”
She was right. Had there been something we missed? Meat and wine… Perhaps there was some in the house, somewhere? I looked down at the lantern in my hand. It would be easier to find out if we had some light. I hadn’t questioned things up until now. Why start now? I’d seen the twisted remains of other lanterns in the fireplace. It was obvious to me what I had to do.
I dashed my lantern down into the fireplace, shattering it and igniting the embers anew. Mila cried out in surprise as warmth bloomed in the old house. I looked around, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the light. The old house did look abandoned… But there had to be something here, right? I brushed past her as I ventured into another room, looking for a kitchen or a pantry. I found nothing. Yes, there were rooms that once could have been a kitchen. But there was nothing in them. No stove or oven. Just empty rooms.
I returned to the main room where Mila had moved closer to the fire, watching me out of the corner of my eye as I searched.
“They had to leave us something.” I said as I searched for another room to explore. I spotted a chest in one corner and headed over to it. It opened with a low creak and kicked up dust as it did.
I’d hoped to at least find some wine in there. But all there was, was a large iron pole, a small rusted knife and a couple more red cloaks, similar to those that we were wearing. I picked up the knife and turned it over in my hands, before looking back at Mila.
“There’s nothing else in here…” I said. “I don’t understand… What are we supposed to do…”
I went over the song again in my head, repeating the first two verses before moving on to the third.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Leave the forest. Leave the forest.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
In context, it wasn’t exactly helpful. Maybe I was getting it wrong? I picked up the iron spit. Looking at it, it looked like it would fit comfortably over the fireplace. It was long enough to place a decently sized animal as well. Perhaps a young pig?
“We can’t figure it out. There’s no point in staying here.” Mila said, “Let’s just go back. It’s too cold to stay out here.”
No… No, I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. I wanted to figure this out! I wanted to understand what was going on here! I looked at the knife in my hand, reciting the final verse of the song under my breath and trying to decipher its meaning… If indeed it had any meaning.
As I did, I could hear something move on the floor above us. Something massive seemed to stir and the entire house seemed to creak under its weight. Both Mila and I fell silent as we looked up. We traded a glance, but neither said a word. I don’t think either of us dared to take a breath.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
We weren’t alone.
The silence around us was deafening and the knowledge that it could be broken at any moment was nothing short of crushing. It was during that silence that I looked down into the trunk again. I hadn’t touched the cloaks at the bottom. I’d dismissed them as something we didn’t need…
But now, as I stared at them, I could see a rusty reddish color staining the white fur trim. I gingerly set the spit down before I reached in to take out one of the cloaks. Dried blood flaked off onto my hands and I felt my stomach lurch slightly as I dropped it.
“What is it?” Mila asked. I looked at her but didn’t have the heart to speak. I just stared at the bloody cloak I’d dropped onto the ground, feeling my knees grow weak beneath me. It took everything I had to keep standing.
I suddenly wanted to vomit… Because I finally understood what we had come here to do… And I did not know if it was something I was capable of. Mila looked at me, oblivious… She didn’t know. She didn’t understand. I envied her. I knew why she’d been chosen…
She’d been chosen because of all the people in Forsel our age, she was the one that no one would miss. She was the one who could disappear, and everyone would simply shrug it off. Even me, if I hadn’t been standing in that room with her, if I hadn’t known what fate had been chosen for her… I never would have thought twice if one day, she’d simply vanished. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if she wasn’t around when I came back again next year. I wouldn’t have even spared her a thought.
Mila was coming closer. She snatched the discarded cloak off of the ground and studied it. I still had the knife in my hands. Her eyes settled on the spit I’d left on the ground… And even with her back to me, I could see that she was putting the pieces together in her head, just like I had.
They’d sent her here to die and they had sent me here to kill her…
I couldn’t do this… I couldn’t murder her! I couldn’t… Dear God, I couldn’t put her on the fire! Then, above us I heard the slow rumble of movement again. Whatever was in the house with us, the Old Man stirred once more.
This time, I could see the ceiling sag as it moved. Mila heard it too and she looked up with wide eyes. The Old Man was waking up. Something told me that he would be hungry.
When I looked at Mila again, her eyes were on me. We stared at each other for several moments, each choosing our future very carefully. She looked at the knife in my hand and I knew what she aimed to do. I gripped it tightly and exhaled… And I waited for her to take it.
She came at me suddenly, lunging at me to try and force me to the ground and rip the knife from my hands. I held it tightly, pulling it out of her grip as she clawed for it, panting in rage as she tried to wrestle it from me.
I…
I don’t remember much about what happened…
One minute, she had brought me down to the ground. One minute, we were fighting. Then the next, I heard her gasp in pain and when I looked down the knife was buried in her ribs. I stumbled backward, ripping it out of her as I scrambled away. She pressed a hand to the wound in her side and looked at me, angry and afraid. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes… I could feel tears welling up in my own.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
The Old Man needed his wine.
I held the knife in my shaking hand as I made my way to the table… I picked up the crystal wine glass and approached her again. Mila looked up at me, knowing what was going to happen next but too badly hurt to resist it anymore. Her lips trembled, tears of anger and dread ran down her cheeks.
“We… We don’t have to…” She said… Those were her final words to me. “Noah! We don’t have to!”
Maybe we didn’t… Maybe…
After I cut her throat, I forced the wound over the wine glass and let it fill with her blood. Mila died, gasping and choking on the floor… I waited until she was dead before I prepared her for the fire.
Above me, I could hear the slow creak of movement. I could hear the Old Man coming.
By the time I heard him on the stairs, his obscene ‘feast’ was cooking… I didn’t stay in the house to see him for myself…
As I heard his heavy footsteps draw nearer, I ran back the way I came and out the door, into the snow. My hands were still slick with Mila’s blood… I was crying as I stumbled back out into the woods.
I had no light to guide me, but I could hear the distant songs from the Pageant… So long as they sang, they would guide me home. I stumbled forwards, away from that house, away from Mila and what I’d done to her… But even as I returned to the woods, I could still hear the jolly laughter of the Old Man from inside the house.
It’s funny… Of all the little things that change between every interpretation of Christmas. One of the ones that doesn’t, is the distinct chuckle of the jolly Old Man who defines it. I’ve heard it imitated so many times by mall Santas, cartoons, television shows, and the like. But none of them have ever captured the sheer mirth in it…
‘Ho Ho Ho.’
No matter who does it, the memory of that laugh still sends a chill through me and I can imagine him, a grossly fat, barely human thing with a flowing white beard carving meat off the spit… Meat that was alive just moments ago… Meat that died, telling me that we didn’t have to do this… Meat that nobody would miss…
I said at the beginning, I have no real answers. I meant that.
When I returned to Forsel, the other children were waiting for me. We returned to the pageant as if nothing was wrong and they stood around me and sang the final song. ‘Sinterklaas Kapoentje’. Then… The pageant was over. We went home.
Christmas passed like it always passes. Nobody mentioned Mila… Not even her own mother, although I’m told that she did leave town a few months later. A few times, I considered asking about what happened in the forest. What I saw… What I did… Maybe my parents would know, or some of the others in town who had arranged the pageant. Maybe they’d understand why they sent Mila and I out into the forest. Maybe they’d have an answer.
But I’m ashamed to confess that I never gathered up the strength to do so. To this day, I’m not sure if it was the fear of facing the guilt of what I’d done, or the fear of truly knowing what was out there that kept me from asking. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
Even if I never could ask about it though… Sometimes, I caught my mother looking at me and the expression in her eyes was… It reminded me of the way the man in the forest had spoken to us, before we’d departed into the woods. There was a deep sorrow there. The implication of a heavy truth that couldn’t be spoken. I never asked my mother about it. To this day we’ve never spoken about the Christmas Pageant. I don’t think we ever will.
What I know for certain is that when I was 12 years old, I participated in a ritual of some sort. One child, held in high regard by the community, sacrifices one that the community holds in low regard.
Perhaps it is necessary so that the Old Man continues to sleep… Perhaps if Forsel were ever to fail to perform the annual ‘Christmas Pageant’, he would wake and find his feast elsewhere. I don’t doubt that would be a calamity. Maybe that’s just something I choose to believe, so I can tell myself that Mila was wrong… That I had to kill her. That we couldn’t have just walked away. I really don’t know for sure. Maybe I’ll never know.
I have not returned to Forsel in years and I’ve never been back around Christmastime. Even the year after my last year in the pageant, I begged and pleaded to stay elsewhere on Christmas. I spent those two months staying with a friend, going to school normally and trying as hard as I could not to think about Forsel. It always crept back into my mind, though. Always.
After my grandparents died, my parents moved to Forsel full time. I was old enough to strike out on my own then, so that’s exactly what I did. I still talk to them, but I very rarely visit. I tell them that a flight to the Netherlands would be too expensive. It’s a good excuse.
I haven’t seen the Christmas Pageant ever since my last year participating, but when I was down in Forsel last, about five years back, I couldn’t help but notice that the town seemed smaller than before. There were more abandoned buildings and fewer people. I can’t imagine there are a lot of children left there now and somehow, I doubt that those who’ve moved away are coming back just for the Holidays. There are precious few things left to tie anyone there anymore.
My parents don’t talk about the state of the town, but I can hear it in their voices. Forsel is dying. It’s dying the same slow, drawn out death that countless small communities have died in the past. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. Part of me is almost glad but part of me… Part of me is afraid of it... I can hear the dread in my parents' voices whenever they dare to mention Forsel… From an ocean away I can almost sense their fear of the upcoming holiday season.
How many children are left in Forsel now? At least one less every year...How many people are still putting together the pageant?
How much longer can they carry on?
And what happens when they can’t?
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I will warn you up front, the Forsel Christmas Pageant is not exactly what one might immediately expect when they hear the words ‘Christmas Pageant.’ I would honestly say that the name does not exactly fit it well. But that is what they have called it for as long as I can remember and if it has any other name, I do not know it.
The tradition probably dates back longer than Forsel has even existed. I don’t know the full history behind it, and I’m not entirely sure that there is anyone still alive who does. Even those in Forsel who still hold fast to the old traditions, probably don’t know where they came from anymore. It’s all been lost to time and buried by history.
Because of all of that: I can provide no real answers beyond what little I experienced firsthand. I have however, drawn some of my own conclusions from what I do know and I imagine that you will do the same. Whether there truly is anything behind the Forsel Christmas Pageant or not is really a matter of personal belief. At the end of the day, it is very much just a strange local tradition and may have no real significance towards the rest of the world. Whatever the case, it is what I grew up with and despite everything, I still do hold my fond memories of it.
When I was a young boy, I participated in the Forsel Christmas Pageant. But then again, so does every other child under 12. Participation is considered to be mandatory, although that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun. While yes, the pageant itself is a rather formal and somewhat dour affair, kids will still be kids. Put enough of them in a room together and they’ll find some way to have fun.
I was a bit of an odd case amongst some of the other children. My mother had been born in Forsel, but she’d moved to the United States where she’d met my father years ago. Most of the year, we lived in a decent sized house in the American suburbs. But during November and December, we’d spend our time in Forsel, living with my grandparents.
I used to look forward to it every year. Not just because I got a couple of months away from school, but because I had friends in town. It was always exciting to see them and catch up. It was like for a couple of months, I could live an entirely different life, just for a little while. I wasn’t the only one who only ‘lived’ in Forsel during the Holiday season. A lot of people who’d moved abroad came back for the Christmas Pageant. They’d bring their kids to participate and it was just as fun to see them too. Most of them had moved to America, but some had come from Canada, England and a few other surrounding countries. The Christmas Pageant brought us all together. We would play games during breaks, or after rehearsals. We’d play in the snow, out by the pageant grounds or play hide and seek in the forest so long as it wasn’t too dark. In fact, I remember looking forward to rehearsal days just because I knew I’d get to see my friends.
I remember once, my friend Bram and I caught hell from one of the organizers during a dress rehearsal when we took advantage of a break to go tobogganing out back. Our costumes had been covered in snow when we’d returned and the old woman who’d been organizing the pageant that year chewed us both out in dutch for the better part of fifteen minutes. She’d made us finish the rehearsal soaking wet as punishment, but I can’t say either of us regretted a thing, even though I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life.
Looking back on it, I suppose it is a little bit funny how excited I was for the pageant every year. As I said before, the actual proceedings are a little bit dull and I can’t quite say that it was very ‘Christmassy’. Not in the conventional sense, at least. But that’s Forsel for you. Their traditions are a little simpler than what most others are used to. In fact, I couldn’t tell you of a single place in the world that does Christmas the same way they do it in Forsel and I’m genuinely not sure I mean that entirely as a compliment. I’ve seen how the rest of the world views the holiday and how drastically different it is from what I grew up with. Outside of Forsel, there’s much more focus on the upbeat aspects of the holiday. The bright colors, the gifts, and the jolly old man in red. Yes, you get some of that in Forsel, but not quite as much. Christmas was always a much more quiet and formal affair.
For example, their Christmas season didn’t officially start until December. There were no decorations in November, as those were considered to bring bad luck. It was usually mid December before anyone began decorating and even then, they weren’t quite as flashy as some of the ones I’ve seen in other parts of the world.
There were no elaborate lights or figurines. It was all very traditional. Grandma and Grandpa would decorate their home with bits of greenery. Handmade evergreen wreaths and boughs of holly, amongst other things. Nothing plastic or bought from a store. That was partially because the nearest place to buy such things was an hour or so drive out of town, and partially because they all seemed to look down on such things as an omen of bad luck.
We’d cut our Christmas trees from the forest outside of town and decorate them with old ornaments, most of which were handmade by our grandparents although each member of the family contributed a decoration or two of their own making in time. There were no carolers, or special holiday sales in the local shops. Nobody dressed up as Santa Claus and there were very few, if any parties. Outside of the decorations, Christmas was always a quiet and family focused affair. The only major community gathering they had was the pageant which was held every year on the evening of December 20th.
It came around like clockwork and was carried out in much the same way. As I said before, every child under 12 was required to participate. Usually, there wouldn’t be more than 20 or 30 of us, almost half of whom weren’t full time residents. Being a small town, Forsel didn’t have very many children and by the time I left, that number had dwindled to around 15, including those who came down just for the pageant. There are probably even less of them now...
The pageant was never particularly exciting to either watch or to perform. But everyone in town came to see it all the same, and every child participated in it. As the sun set on December 20th, everyone in town would venture out to the pageant grounds on the edge of town.
The pageant grounds were carved in stone, near the edge of the forest. People brought their own chairs to set them down and would watch as the children gathered with their backs to the trees. They would assemble in rows with the youngest in the front and the oldest in the back, all of them dressed in red cloaks lined with white furs and they would sing.
The songs they had them sing were always… Strange. The lyrics weren’t in any language I know. In fact, I’m not sure just what language they were in at all. I have looked (halfheartedly) for an answer but I’ve never found one. We all knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean, of course. We had all read the lyric sheets which came with a translation. Although I don’t think any of us thought too hard on any of it. It wasn’t until recently when I thought about the Forsel Christmas Pageant that I truly stopped to think about them and realized just how odd they were.
The translated lyrics were as follows, (although my memory is a bit rusty, so if there are some errors, please forgive me)
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.L
ight the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Follow the song. Follow the song.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
The song doesn’t make much sense outside of context, unfortunately and translated into English, I’d say that it loses most of its impact. That said... I’d be lying if I said that reading these words again after all these years didn’t send an icy chill through me. I can still hear the low chanting of children, reciting the song in its original language. No music to accompany them, just a chorus of young voices speaking words they didn’t understand to a sea of adults who regarded the whole affair with a stern intensity.
This was always the first song sung that began the pageant and it was the most important. There were other songs sung after this, of course. But nothing with quite the same impact. Nothing in that bizarre, forgotten language that no one understood. The other songs were more traditional Dutch carols, the kind you’d hear elsewhere in the Netherlands and most of the children participated in those while the other part of the pageant was prepared.
Every year, two of the oldest children would be selected from the group of 12 year olds who wouldn’t be participating next year. It was always people chosen both by the other children, and by the adults and it was always someone thought well of by the community. They were usually the kids who did well in school, were kind to their friends and treated others with empathy. ‘Good’ kids.
Most children don’t see the full extent of the Forsel Christmas Pageant. Sure, they hear things. Rumors, whispers… But they dismiss them. I know I did. I wrote it off as some odd tradition and maybe it is. Maybe there really is nothing more to it… But I don’t know if I believe that. When I was told that I was one of the ones who was chosen amongst my peers, I was beyond excited. I’d seen it happen to others over the years. During the pageant, while the younger children sang, the oldest would quietly leave and retreat into the woods with one of the adults.
They would remain absent until the last song, when at last they would return. We never saw what they did and nobody ever talked about it. But I knew that it involved the chosen children doing something special. But I’d never imagined that I would be one of the ones who was picked. I wasn’t a full time resident, but I guess that hadn’t stopped them before. I was a good student back at home (much to the pride of my Grandparents who were quite vocal about it). I had lots of friends both in Forsel and back home and I got along well with just about everybody. But I probably could’ve named others who were a better fit. Maybe that was why I was the ideal choice? I can’t say… But I was excited nonetheless.
The other child who had chosen alongside me was a girl named Mila. Unlike me, she lived in Forsel full time and I only somewhat knew her. I can’t say we were ever really friends. I had heard whispers and rumors about her of course, none of which were very flattering. Even in a small town, kids can be cruel.
What I did know for sure however was that her family life was not a happy one. Her father had passed away years ago, although I could not tell you how and her mother worked long hours at a local lumber mill. Without any other family in her life, Mila had started down a difficult path. I’d heard that she missed school often, and while I was in Forsel, I’d seen her in a pickup truck, belonging to some stranger from out of town a few times. A man who was at least old enough to drive. Once my friend Bram and I had spotted her sleeping in a tent in the woods. You could smell the alcohol on her from a good distance away.
Her life was not set up to be a happy one and knowing what I knew about her, I pitied her more than anything else. She was not who I would have expected to be chosen alongside me… But I never resented her for that. If anything, I couldn’t help but be happy for her. Perhaps this would be a good thing? Maybe it was a sign that things were getting better for her? Who could say.
During the rehearsals, the adults spent extra time with me and the other children my age. We would stay longer, while the other kids were allowed to play and we would venture into the woods to a small, snowy clearing. There they told us how we would be here, after the opening song of the pageant. They told the others how they were to wait, patiently and silently while Mila and I were to venture alone into the woods.
They said it was part of the tradition, that the path was clearly marked so we wouldn’t get lost… I never questioned any of it. It was too exciting to question it! It’s funny, tell a person they were chosen, tell them that they’re special… They’ll do just about anything. All of it was just part of the tradition. Part of the pageant… They never let us actually go down that path. They said we could only go down that path in the woods on the day of the pageant. They never explicitly told us what we’d be doing when we went down there either. They simply told us that we’d know and of course I trusted them implicitly.
Mila and I never really spoke during the rehearsals (When she was there). I honestly wasn’t sure what to say to her and she mostly preferred to keep to herself anyways. I got the impression that she wasn’t particularly interested in having been chosen… But I didn’t let her lack of enthusiasm kill my own excitement for the coming pageant. I was so blinded by the idea that something special, something very few others had seen was waiting for me that I couldn’t have cared less what she did or didn’t do.
December 20th rolled around. I was 12 years old and it felt like the single proudest day of my life. My age group was the last on the stage. We were dressed in the same red cloaks as the others, but mine and Milas were special amongst them. There was a gold trim to the fur and a shimmering gold pattern on my cloak that marked us as the ones they’d chosen. I still have photographs of myself from that night, beaming with pride, dressed in that red and gold cloak as if I’d just achieved everything I could’ve possibly wanted.
From where I stood on the pageant grounds, I could see the whole town, gathered to watch us. Behind them, sat Forsel. Quaint, quiet and snow capped, lit by a full moon. It was beautiful… Like something out of a holiday postcard. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever see a sight so lovely again. We sang that bizarre opening song. I knew the lyrics without even looking down at the sheet in my hands. I don’t think I’d ever sang it quite so well before. Then, when the unusual chanting song ended, the 12 year olds left quietly and ventured into the woods. I could see one of the adults who had helped us prepare standing by the edge of the trees, an oil lantern in his hand. He gestured for us to follow and we did, staying in single file the entire time.
He didn’t speak. None of us did. The only sound was the crunch of our boots in the snow as we weaved through the trees and into the quiet clearing we’d come to know. There, we stood in a half moon shape. There were only 7 of us, myself and Mila included. The other 5 children looked at me expectantly as they took their positions and the man who’d led us out there (I recall his name was Finn, although I never knew him well) quietly addressed us.
“Tonight is an important night for all of us.” He said, “When you leave this clearing, you will be grown and you can never go back… Do you understand that?”
He was met with silence, but I got the impression that was the answer he’d been expecting. He managed a slight smile before looking at me. He offered me the lantern and I took it.
“You two should go. There’s someone waiting for you up ahead. You’ll know what to do.”
Something about his tone was… Well… It’s hard to describe. Time has taken so much from me, there is so much that I struggle to remember. I don’t remember the name of the man who led us into the woods, I don’t remember the names of a few of the other kids who stood with me in that clearing. I doubt I could recognize most of their faces now. But I remember very clearly the tone in his voice. There was a heaviness to it. An almost regrettable tone. He said it as if it was an apology and I didn’t understand why. Not at first.
The lantern felt heavy in my hand. The man nodded at me and Mila and with one last look back at him, I ventured forward into the forest. Mila didn’t say a word as she followed me. But she lingered behind as if she didn’t want to go. Maybe in her heart, she knew better than to follow me into the woods. But tradition urged her forward and in the end, common sense didn’t stay her feet. She followed in my footsteps. Staying close enough to be in the light, but no closer.
After the first few steps, I didn’t look back as the trees swallowed me up. The moonlight's reflection off of the snow almost made it bright enough to see where I was going even without the lantern and the trees cast sinister shadows around me. But I continued to walk, eyes set ahead, looking for the light of someone else waiting for me.
We kept a slow pace, keeping an eye out for the small stacks of stones and flags tied to branches that marked the way. They were dusted in snow, but I could find them easily enough. After what felt like a half hour of walking though, I never saw any light or any indication that I wasn’t alone. The only sound I heard was the distant singing from the pageant and the low whispers of the wind.
Mila spoke after a while, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
“What exactly are we out here for? How much further do we need to walk?”
“I don’t know.” Was the only reply I could give her. “I suppose we’ll know it when we see it.”
“They didn’t tell you?” She asked, clearly annoyed. I heard her swear and saw her reach under her cloak for a cigarette.
“You shouldn’t. What if you get seen?” I said. She didn’t respond, she just glared at me as if to imply some sort of threat. I thought better of saying anything more about it. I let her trail behind and smoke as I kept walking. The crunch of her boots in the snow and the stink of tobacco was the only thing that told me she was still there.
The next time she spoke, several minutes later it was to suggest that we turn around before we get lost. But I insisted we stay on the path, just to see it through to the end. I could tell that she wanted to turn back anyway. But the darkness behind us was deep. I’m sure that she could have made it back without a light… But she didn’t want to try. She tossed her cigarette aside and picked up the pace behind me, eager to get this over with. I suppose I really couldn’t blame her for that.
It wasn’t much further until we saw the house. I could see it through the trees as we neared the end of the trail. It was old and made of weathered stone. Virgin snow covered the roof and the grounds leading up to it.
The windows were dark but I knew that this was where we were meant to be. My pace quickened as I hurried towards the door. For a moment, I forgot about Mila in my haste to see what was waiting for us, to see what we’d been chosen for! I could hear her running behind me to catch up and stay close to the light. By the time she caught up to me, my hand was already on the door and turning the knob.
It swung open with a gust of wind, and I only barely stopped it from slamming against the wall. I looked back at Mila. Her brow was furrowed in curiosity. She pursed her lips, before stepping inside and calling out:
“Hello?”
There was no answer. The house seemed empty. I’d expected it to be at least a little warmer inside. But the air seemed cold enough to cut me to the bone. I could see Mila shiver as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. She glanced at me cautiously before going further into the house and I’ll admit, I was a little happy to see her showing some enthusiasm about this. I stayed close to her, listening for some other sign of life in that empty house but as far as I could tell there was none.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” She asked as she ventured down the hall and into another room. The room was large, with a large fireplace dominating one wall. I could see some weak embers glowing inside and approached them. The fire was nearly dead. It would need to be stoked. I set about doing just that.
Mila stood behind me, squinting in the darkness to survey the rest of the room. I didn’t notice when she stepped away from me, towards a large table that dominated the center of the room. I was too focused on the fire and getting it restarted. Studying it, I could see the broken, burnt and twisted remains of a couple of oil lanterns, similar to the one I was holding. It seemed as if whoever had set the fire last had smashed their lantern to do so. Odd… I looked over at Mila again. She was standing by the head of the table, holding a dusty bottle of wine beside an ornate crystal glass. She’d pulled the cork off and found it empty. She looked a little bit disappointed.
“No wine and no food.” She said, “What are we supposed to do?”
Wine and food…
The moment she said those words, I understood.
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
The song we’d sang for as long as we could sing… This was the house it spoke of, it had to be! An old house in the forest, covered in unbroken snow with a dying cold fire? It fit too well... What was the next verse?
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.Light the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
I understood…
“It’s a feast. We need to prepare a feast!” I said, “The fire, we need to light it. We need roast meat and red wine!”
“A feast?” She asked, “Like in that song? For what, an old man? There’s nobody here. Let’s go. It’s cold and I don’t want to stay here any longer. We don’t have meat and wine anyways!”
She was right. Had there been something we missed? Meat and wine… Perhaps there was some in the house, somewhere? I looked down at the lantern in my hand. It would be easier to find out if we had some light. I hadn’t questioned things up until now. Why start now? I’d seen the twisted remains of other lanterns in the fireplace. It was obvious to me what I had to do.
I dashed my lantern down into the fireplace, shattering it and igniting the embers anew. Mila cried out in surprise as warmth bloomed in the old house. I looked around, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the light. The old house did look abandoned… But there had to be something here, right? I brushed past her as I ventured into another room, looking for a kitchen or a pantry. I found nothing. Yes, there were rooms that once could have been a kitchen. But there was nothing in them. No stove or oven. Just empty rooms.
I returned to the main room where Mila had moved closer to the fire, watching me out of the corner of my eye as I searched.
“They had to leave us something.” I said as I searched for another room to explore. I spotted a chest in one corner and headed over to it. It opened with a low creak and kicked up dust as it did.
I’d hoped to at least find some wine in there. But all there was, was a large iron pole, a small rusted knife and a couple more red cloaks, similar to those that we were wearing. I picked up the knife and turned it over in my hands, before looking back at Mila.
“There’s nothing else in here…” I said. “I don’t understand… What are we supposed to do…”
I went over the song again in my head, repeating the first two verses before moving on to the third.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Leave the forest. Leave the forest.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
In context, it wasn’t exactly helpful. Maybe I was getting it wrong? I picked up the iron spit. Looking at it, it looked like it would fit comfortably over the fireplace. It was long enough to place a decently sized animal as well. Perhaps a young pig?
“We can’t figure it out. There’s no point in staying here.” Mila said, “Let’s just go back. It’s too cold to stay out here.”
No… No, I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. I wanted to figure this out! I wanted to understand what was going on here! I looked at the knife in my hand, reciting the final verse of the song under my breath and trying to decipher its meaning… If indeed it had any meaning.
As I did, I could hear something move on the floor above us. Something massive seemed to stir and the entire house seemed to creak under its weight. Both Mila and I fell silent as we looked up. We traded a glance, but neither said a word. I don’t think either of us dared to take a breath.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
We weren’t alone.
The silence around us was deafening and the knowledge that it could be broken at any moment was nothing short of crushing. It was during that silence that I looked down into the trunk again. I hadn’t touched the cloaks at the bottom. I’d dismissed them as something we didn’t need…
But now, as I stared at them, I could see a rusty reddish color staining the white fur trim. I gingerly set the spit down before I reached in to take out one of the cloaks. Dried blood flaked off onto my hands and I felt my stomach lurch slightly as I dropped it.
“What is it?” Mila asked. I looked at her but didn’t have the heart to speak. I just stared at the bloody cloak I’d dropped onto the ground, feeling my knees grow weak beneath me. It took everything I had to keep standing.
I suddenly wanted to vomit… Because I finally understood what we had come here to do… And I did not know if it was something I was capable of. Mila looked at me, oblivious… She didn’t know. She didn’t understand. I envied her. I knew why she’d been chosen…
She’d been chosen because of all the people in Forsel our age, she was the one that no one would miss. She was the one who could disappear, and everyone would simply shrug it off. Even me, if I hadn’t been standing in that room with her, if I hadn’t known what fate had been chosen for her… I never would have thought twice if one day, she’d simply vanished. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if she wasn’t around when I came back again next year. I wouldn’t have even spared her a thought.
Mila was coming closer. She snatched the discarded cloak off of the ground and studied it. I still had the knife in my hands. Her eyes settled on the spit I’d left on the ground… And even with her back to me, I could see that she was putting the pieces together in her head, just like I had.
They’d sent her here to die and they had sent me here to kill her…
I couldn’t do this… I couldn’t murder her! I couldn’t… Dear God, I couldn’t put her on the fire! Then, above us I heard the slow rumble of movement again. Whatever was in the house with us, the Old Man stirred once more.
This time, I could see the ceiling sag as it moved. Mila heard it too and she looked up with wide eyes. The Old Man was waking up. Something told me that he would be hungry.
When I looked at Mila again, her eyes were on me. We stared at each other for several moments, each choosing our future very carefully. She looked at the knife in my hand and I knew what she aimed to do. I gripped it tightly and exhaled… And I waited for her to take it.
She came at me suddenly, lunging at me to try and force me to the ground and rip the knife from my hands. I held it tightly, pulling it out of her grip as she clawed for it, panting in rage as she tried to wrestle it from me.
I…
I don’t remember much about what happened…
One minute, she had brought me down to the ground. One minute, we were fighting. Then the next, I heard her gasp in pain and when I looked down the knife was buried in her ribs. I stumbled backward, ripping it out of her as I scrambled away. She pressed a hand to the wound in her side and looked at me, angry and afraid. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes… I could feel tears welling up in my own.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
The Old Man needed his wine.
I held the knife in my shaking hand as I made my way to the table… I picked up the crystal wine glass and approached her again. Mila looked up at me, knowing what was going to happen next but too badly hurt to resist it anymore. Her lips trembled, tears of anger and dread ran down her cheeks.
“We… We don’t have to…” She said… Those were her final words to me. “Noah! We don’t have to!”
Maybe we didn’t… Maybe…
After I cut her throat, I forced the wound over the wine glass and let it fill with her blood. Mila died, gasping and choking on the floor… I waited until she was dead before I prepared her for the fire.
Above me, I could hear the slow creak of movement. I could hear the Old Man coming.
By the time I heard him on the stairs, his obscene ‘feast’ was cooking… I didn’t stay in the house to see him for myself…
As I heard his heavy footsteps draw nearer, I ran back the way I came and out the door, into the snow. My hands were still slick with Mila’s blood… I was crying as I stumbled back out into the woods.
I had no light to guide me, but I could hear the distant songs from the Pageant… So long as they sang, they would guide me home. I stumbled forwards, away from that house, away from Mila and what I’d done to her… But even as I returned to the woods, I could still hear the jolly laughter of the Old Man from inside the house.
It’s funny… Of all the little things that change between every interpretation of Christmas. One of the ones that doesn’t, is the distinct chuckle of the jolly Old Man who defines it. I’ve heard it imitated so many times by mall Santas, cartoons, television shows, and the like. But none of them have ever captured the sheer mirth in it…
‘Ho Ho Ho.’
No matter who does it, the memory of that laugh still sends a chill through me and I can imagine him, a grossly fat, barely human thing with a flowing white beard carving meat off the spit… Meat that was alive just moments ago… Meat that died, telling me that we didn’t have to do this… Meat that nobody would miss…
I said at the beginning, I have no real answers. I meant that.
When I returned to Forsel, the other children were waiting for me. We returned to the pageant as if nothing was wrong and they stood around me and sang the final song. ‘Sinterklaas Kapoentje’. Then… The pageant was over. We went home.
Christmas passed like it always passes. Nobody mentioned Mila… Not even her own mother, although I’m told that she did leave town a few months later. A few times, I considered asking about what happened in the forest. What I saw… What I did… Maybe my parents would know, or some of the others in town who had arranged the pageant. Maybe they’d understand why they sent Mila and I out into the forest. Maybe they’d have an answer.
But I’m ashamed to confess that I never gathered up the strength to do so. To this day, I’m not sure if it was the fear of facing the guilt of what I’d done, or the fear of truly knowing what was out there that kept me from asking. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
Even if I never could ask about it though… Sometimes, I caught my mother looking at me and the expression in her eyes was… It reminded me of the way the man in the forest had spoken to us, before we’d departed into the woods. There was a deep sorrow there. The implication of a heavy truth that couldn’t be spoken. I never asked my mother about it. To this day we’ve never spoken about the Christmas Pageant. I don’t think we ever will.
What I know for certain is that when I was 12 years old, I participated in a ritual of some sort. One child, held in high regard by the community, sacrifices one that the community holds in low regard.
Perhaps it is necessary so that the Old Man continues to sleep… Perhaps if Forsel were ever to fail to perform the annual ‘Christmas Pageant’, he would wake and find his feast elsewhere. I don’t doubt that would be a calamity. Maybe that’s just something I choose to believe, so I can tell myself that Mila was wrong… That I had to kill her. That we couldn’t have just walked away. I really don’t know for sure. Maybe I’ll never know.
I have not returned to Forsel in years and I’ve never been back around Christmastime. Even the year after my last year in the pageant, I begged and pleaded to stay elsewhere on Christmas. I spent those two months staying with a friend, going to school normally and trying as hard as I could not to think about Forsel. It always crept back into my mind, though. Always.
After my grandparents died, my parents moved to Forsel full time. I was old enough to strike out on my own then, so that’s exactly what I did. I still talk to them, but I very rarely visit. I tell them that a flight to the Netherlands would be too expensive. It’s a good excuse.
I haven’t seen the Christmas Pageant ever since my last year participating, but when I was down in Forsel last, about five years back, I couldn’t help but notice that the town seemed smaller than before. There were more abandoned buildings and fewer people. I can’t imagine there are a lot of children left there now and somehow, I doubt that those who’ve moved away are coming back just for the Holidays. There are precious few things left to tie anyone there anymore.
My parents don’t talk about the state of the town, but I can hear it in their voices. Forsel is dying. It’s dying the same slow, drawn out death that countless small communities have died in the past. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. Part of me is almost glad but part of me… Part of me is afraid of it... I can hear the dread in my parents' voices whenever they dare to mention Forsel… From an ocean away I can almost sense their fear of the upcoming holiday season.
How many children are left in Forsel now? At least one less every year...How many people are still putting together the pageant?
How much longer can they carry on?
And what happens when they can’t?
2021.12.20 10:16 HeadOfSpectreThe Christmas Pageant
Over the years, I’ve had multiple people ask me about the Christmas Pageant held in my mothers hometown of Forsel, in the Netherlands. So, given the particular time of year I thought it only right that I take the time to finally discuss it.
I will warn you up front, the Forsel Christmas Pageant is not exactly what one might immediately expect when they hear the words ‘Christmas Pageant.’ I would honestly say that the name does not exactly fit it well. But that is what they have called it for as long as I can remember and if it has any other name, I do not know it.
The tradition probably dates back longer than Forsel has even existed. I don’t know the full history behind it, and I’m not entirely sure that there is anyone still alive who does. Even those in Forsel who still hold fast to the old traditions, probably don’t know where they came from anymore. It’s all been lost to time and buried by history.
Because of all of that: I can provide no real answers beyond what little I experienced firsthand. I have however, drawn some of my own conclusions from what I do know and I imagine that you will do the same. Whether there truly is anything behind the Forsel Christmas Pageant or not is really a matter of personal belief. At the end of the day, it is very much just a strange local tradition and may have no real significance towards the rest of the world. Whatever the case, it is what I grew up with and despite everything, I still do hold my fond memories of it.
When I was a young boy, I participated in the Forsel Christmas Pageant. But then again, so does every other child under 12. Participation is considered to be mandatory, although that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun. While yes, the pageant itself is a rather formal and somewhat dour affair, kids will still be kids. Put enough of them in a room together and they’ll find some way to have fun.
I was a bit of an odd case amongst some of the other children. My mother had been born in Forsel, but she’d moved to the United States where she’d met my father years ago. Most of the year, we lived in a decent sized house in the American suburbs. But during November and December, we’d spend our time in Forsel, living with my grandparents.
I used to look forward to it every year. Not just because I got a couple of months away from school, but because I had friends in town. It was always exciting to see them and catch up. It was like for a couple of months, I could live an entirely different life, just for a little while. I wasn’t the only one who only ‘lived’ in Forsel during the Holiday season. A lot of people who’d moved abroad came back for the Christmas Pageant. They’d bring their kids to participate and it was just as fun to see them too. Most of them had moved to America, but some had come from Canada, England and a few other surrounding countries. The Christmas Pageant brought us all together. We would play games during breaks, or after rehearsals. We’d play in the snow, out by the pageant grounds or play hide and seek in the forest so long as it wasn’t too dark. In fact, I remember looking forward to rehearsal days just because I knew I’d get to see my friends.
I remember once, my friend Bram and I caught hell from one of the organizers during a dress rehearsal when we took advantage of a break to go tobogganing out back. Our costumes had been covered in snow when we’d returned and the old woman who’d been organizing the pageant that year chewed us both out in dutch for the better part of fifteen minutes. She’d made us finish the rehearsal soaking wet as punishment, but I can’t say either of us regretted a thing, even though I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life.
Looking back on it, I suppose it is a little bit funny how excited I was for the pageant every year. As I said before, the actual proceedings are a little bit dull and I can’t quite say that it was very ‘Christmassy’. Not in the conventional sense, at least. But that’s Forsel for you. Their traditions are a little simpler than what most others are used to. In fact, I couldn’t tell you of a single place in the world that does Christmas the same way they do it in Forsel and I’m genuinely not sure I mean that entirely as a compliment. I’ve seen how the rest of the world views the holiday and how drastically different it is from what I grew up with. Outside of Forsel, there’s much more focus on the upbeat aspects of the holiday. The bright colors, the gifts, and the jolly old man in red. Yes, you get some of that in Forsel, but not quite as much. Christmas was always a much more quiet and formal affair.
For example, their Christmas season didn’t officially start until December. There were no decorations in November, as those were considered to bring bad luck. It was usually mid December before anyone began decorating and even then, they weren’t quite as flashy as some of the ones I’ve seen in other parts of the world.
There were no elaborate lights or figurines. It was all very traditional. Grandma and Grandpa would decorate their home with bits of greenery. Handmade evergreen wreaths and boughs of holly, amongst other things. Nothing plastic or bought from a store. That was partially because the nearest place to buy such things was an hour or so drive out of town, and partially because they all seemed to look down on such things as an omen of bad luck.
We’d cut our Christmas trees from the forest outside of town and decorate them with old ornaments, most of which were handmade by our grandparents although each member of the family contributed a decoration or two of their own making in time. There were no carolers, or special holiday sales in the local shops. Nobody dressed up as Santa Claus and there were very few, if any parties. Outside of the decorations, Christmas was always a quiet and family focused affair. The only major community gathering they had was the pageant which was held every year on the evening of December 20th.
It came around like clockwork and was carried out in much the same way. As I said before, every child under 12 was required to participate. Usually, there wouldn’t be more than 20 or 30 of us, almost half of whom weren’t full time residents. Being a small town, Forsel didn’t have very many children and by the time I left, that number had dwindled to around 15, including those who came down just for the pageant. There are probably even less of them now...
The pageant was never particularly exciting to either watch or to perform. But everyone in town came to see it all the same, and every child participated in it. As the sun set on December 20th, everyone in town would venture out to the pageant grounds on the edge of town.
The pageant grounds were carved in stone, near the edge of the forest. People brought their own chairs to set them down and would watch as the children gathered with their backs to the trees. They would assemble in rows with the youngest in the front and the oldest in the back, all of them dressed in red cloaks lined with white furs and they would sing.
The songs they had them sing were always… Strange. The lyrics weren’t in any language I know. In fact, I’m not sure just what language they were in at all. I have looked (halfheartedly) for an answer but I’ve never found one. We all knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean, of course. We had all read the lyric sheets which came with a translation. Although I don’t think any of us thought too hard on any of it. It wasn’t until recently when I thought about the Forsel Christmas Pageant that I truly stopped to think about them and realized just how odd they were.
The translated lyrics were as follows, (although my memory is a bit rusty, so if there are some errors, please forgive me)
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.L
ight the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Follow the song. Follow the song.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
The song doesn’t make much sense outside of context, unfortunately and translated into English, I’d say that it loses most of its impact. That said... I’d be lying if I said that reading these words again after all these years didn’t send an icy chill through me. I can still hear the low chanting of children, reciting the song in its original language. No music to accompany them, just a chorus of young voices speaking words they didn’t understand to a sea of adults who regarded the whole affair with a stern intensity.
This was always the first song sung that began the pageant and it was the most important. There were other songs sung after this, of course. But nothing with quite the same impact. Nothing in that bizarre, forgotten language that no one understood. The other songs were more traditional Dutch carols, the kind you’d hear elsewhere in the Netherlands and most of the children participated in those while the other part of the pageant was prepared.
Every year, two of the oldest children would be selected from the group of 12 year olds who wouldn’t be participating next year. It was always people chosen both by the other children, and by the adults and it was always someone thought well of by the community. They were usually the kids who did well in school, were kind to their friends and treated others with empathy. ‘Good’ kids.
Most children don’t see the full extent of the Forsel Christmas Pageant. Sure, they hear things. Rumors, whispers… But they dismiss them. I know I did. I wrote it off as some odd tradition and maybe it is. Maybe there really is nothing more to it… But I don’t know if I believe that. When I was told that I was one of the ones who was chosen amongst my peers, I was beyond excited. I’d seen it happen to others over the years. During the pageant, while the younger children sang, the oldest would quietly leave and retreat into the woods with one of the adults.
They would remain absent until the last song, when at last they would return. We never saw what they did and nobody ever talked about it. But I knew that it involved the chosen children doing something special. But I’d never imagined that I would be one of the ones who was picked. I wasn’t a full time resident, but I guess that hadn’t stopped them before. I was a good student back at home (much to the pride of my Grandparents who were quite vocal about it). I had lots of friends both in Forsel and back home and I got along well with just about everybody. But I probably could’ve named others who were a better fit. Maybe that was why I was the ideal choice? I can’t say… But I was excited nonetheless.
The other child who had chosen alongside me was a girl named Mila. Unlike me, she lived in Forsel full time and I only somewhat knew her. I can’t say we were ever really friends. I had heard whispers and rumors about her of course, none of which were very flattering. Even in a small town, kids can be cruel.
What I did know for sure however was that her family life was not a happy one. Her father had passed away years ago, although I could not tell you how and her mother worked long hours at a local lumber mill. Without any other family in her life, Mila had started down a difficult path. I’d heard that she missed school often, and while I was in Forsel, I’d seen her in a pickup truck, belonging to some stranger from out of town a few times. A man who was at least old enough to drive. Once my friend Bram and I had spotted her sleeping in a tent in the woods. You could smell the alcohol on her from a good distance away.
Her life was not set up to be a happy one and knowing what I knew about her, I pitied her more than anything else. She was not who I would have expected to be chosen alongside me… But I never resented her for that. If anything, I couldn’t help but be happy for her. Perhaps this would be a good thing? Maybe it was a sign that things were getting better for her? Who could say.
During the rehearsals, the adults spent extra time with me and the other children my age. We would stay longer, while the other kids were allowed to play and we would venture into the woods to a small, snowy clearing. There they told us how we would be here, after the opening song of the pageant. They told the others how they were to wait, patiently and silently while Mila and I were to venture alone into the woods.
They said it was part of the tradition, that the path was clearly marked so we wouldn’t get lost… I never questioned any of it. It was too exciting to question it! It’s funny, tell a person they were chosen, tell them that they’re special… They’ll do just about anything. All of it was just part of the tradition. Part of the pageant… They never let us actually go down that path. They said we could only go down that path in the woods on the day of the pageant. They never explicitly told us what we’d be doing when we went down there either. They simply told us that we’d know and of course I trusted them implicitly.
Mila and I never really spoke during the rehearsals (When she was there). I honestly wasn’t sure what to say to her and she mostly preferred to keep to herself anyways. I got the impression that she wasn’t particularly interested in having been chosen… But I didn’t let her lack of enthusiasm kill my own excitement for the coming pageant. I was so blinded by the idea that something special, something very few others had seen was waiting for me that I couldn’t have cared less what she did or didn’t do.
December 20th rolled around. I was 12 years old and it felt like the single proudest day of my life. My age group was the last on the stage. We were dressed in the same red cloaks as the others, but mine and Milas were special amongst them. There was a gold trim to the fur and a shimmering gold pattern on my cloak that marked us as the ones they’d chosen. I still have photographs of myself from that night, beaming with pride, dressed in that red and gold cloak as if I’d just achieved everything I could’ve possibly wanted.
From where I stood on the pageant grounds, I could see the whole town, gathered to watch us. Behind them, sat Forsel. Quaint, quiet and snow capped, lit by a full moon. It was beautiful… Like something out of a holiday postcard. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever see a sight so lovely again. We sang that bizarre opening song. I knew the lyrics without even looking down at the sheet in my hands. I don’t think I’d ever sang it quite so well before. Then, when the unusual chanting song ended, the 12 year olds left quietly and ventured into the woods. I could see one of the adults who had helped us prepare standing by the edge of the trees, an oil lantern in his hand. He gestured for us to follow and we did, staying in single file the entire time.
He didn’t speak. None of us did. The only sound was the crunch of our boots in the snow as we weaved through the trees and into the quiet clearing we’d come to know. There, we stood in a half moon shape. There were only 7 of us, myself and Mila included. The other 5 children looked at me expectantly as they took their positions and the man who’d led us out there (I recall his name was Finn, although I never knew him well) quietly addressed us.
“Tonight is an important night for all of us.” He said, “When you leave this clearing, you will be grown and you can never go back… Do you understand that?”
He was met with silence, but I got the impression that was the answer he’d been expecting. He managed a slight smile before looking at me. He offered me the lantern and I took it.
“You two should go. There’s someone waiting for you up ahead. You’ll know what to do.”
Something about his tone was… Well… It’s hard to describe. Time has taken so much from me, there is so much that I struggle to remember. I don’t remember the name of the man who led us into the woods, I don’t remember the names of a few of the other kids who stood with me in that clearing. I doubt I could recognize most of their faces now. But I remember very clearly the tone in his voice. There was a heaviness to it. An almost regrettable tone. He said it as if it was an apology and I didn’t understand why. Not at first.
The lantern felt heavy in my hand. The man nodded at me and Mila and with one last look back at him, I ventured forward into the forest. Mila didn’t say a word as she followed me. But she lingered behind as if she didn’t want to go. Maybe in her heart, she knew better than to follow me into the woods. But tradition urged her forward and in the end, common sense didn’t stay her feet. She followed in my footsteps. Staying close enough to be in the light, but no closer.
After the first few steps, I didn’t look back as the trees swallowed me up. The moonlight's reflection off of the snow almost made it bright enough to see where I was going even without the lantern and the trees cast sinister shadows around me. But I continued to walk, eyes set ahead, looking for the light of someone else waiting for me.
We kept a slow pace, keeping an eye out for the small stacks of stones and flags tied to branches that marked the way. They were dusted in snow, but I could find them easily enough. After what felt like a half hour of walking though, I never saw any light or any indication that I wasn’t alone. The only sound I heard was the distant singing from the pageant and the low whispers of the wind.
Mila spoke after a while, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
“What exactly are we out here for? How much further do we need to walk?”
“I don’t know.” Was the only reply I could give her. “I suppose we’ll know it when we see it.”
“They didn’t tell you?” She asked, clearly annoyed. I heard her swear and saw her reach under her cloak for a cigarette.
“You shouldn’t. What if you get seen?” I said. She didn’t respond, she just glared at me as if to imply some sort of threat. I thought better of saying anything more about it. I let her trail behind and smoke as I kept walking. The crunch of her boots in the snow and the stink of tobacco was the only thing that told me she was still there.
The next time she spoke, several minutes later it was to suggest that we turn around before we get lost. But I insisted we stay on the path, just to see it through to the end. I could tell that she wanted to turn back anyway. But the darkness behind us was deep. I’m sure that she could have made it back without a light… But she didn’t want to try. She tossed her cigarette aside and picked up the pace behind me, eager to get this over with. I suppose I really couldn’t blame her for that.
It wasn’t much further until we saw the house. I could see it through the trees as we neared the end of the trail. It was old and made of weathered stone. Virgin snow covered the roof and the grounds leading up to it.
The windows were dark but I knew that this was where we were meant to be. My pace quickened as I hurried towards the door. For a moment, I forgot about Mila in my haste to see what was waiting for us, to see what we’d been chosen for! I could hear her running behind me to catch up and stay close to the light. By the time she caught up to me, my hand was already on the door and turning the knob.
It swung open with a gust of wind, and I only barely stopped it from slamming against the wall. I looked back at Mila. Her brow was furrowed in curiosity. She pursed her lips, before stepping inside and calling out:
“Hello?”
There was no answer. The house seemed empty. I’d expected it to be at least a little warmer inside. But the air seemed cold enough to cut me to the bone. I could see Mila shiver as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. She glanced at me cautiously before going further into the house and I’ll admit, I was a little happy to see her showing some enthusiasm about this. I stayed close to her, listening for some other sign of life in that empty house but as far as I could tell there was none.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” She asked as she ventured down the hall and into another room. The room was large, with a large fireplace dominating one wall. I could see some weak embers glowing inside and approached them. The fire was nearly dead. It would need to be stoked. I set about doing just that.
Mila stood behind me, squinting in the darkness to survey the rest of the room. I didn’t notice when she stepped away from me, towards a large table that dominated the center of the room. I was too focused on the fire and getting it restarted. Studying it, I could see the broken, burnt and twisted remains of a couple of oil lanterns, similar to the one I was holding. It seemed as if whoever had set the fire last had smashed their lantern to do so. Odd… I looked over at Mila again. She was standing by the head of the table, holding a dusty bottle of wine beside an ornate crystal glass. She’d pulled the cork off and found it empty. She looked a little bit disappointed.
“No wine and no food.” She said, “What are we supposed to do?”
Wine and food…
The moment she said those words, I understood.
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
The song we’d sang for as long as we could sing… This was the house it spoke of, it had to be! An old house in the forest, covered in unbroken snow with a dying cold fire? It fit too well... What was the next verse?
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.Light the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
I understood…
“It’s a feast. We need to prepare a feast!” I said, “The fire, we need to light it. We need roast meat and red wine!”
“A feast?” She asked, “Like in that song? For what, an old man? There’s nobody here. Let’s go. It’s cold and I don’t want to stay here any longer. We don’t have meat and wine anyways!”
She was right. Had there been something we missed? Meat and wine… Perhaps there was some in the house, somewhere? I looked down at the lantern in my hand. It would be easier to find out if we had some light. I hadn’t questioned things up until now. Why start now? I’d seen the twisted remains of other lanterns in the fireplace. It was obvious to me what I had to do.
I dashed my lantern down into the fireplace, shattering it and igniting the embers anew. Mila cried out in surprise as warmth bloomed in the old house. I looked around, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the light. The old house did look abandoned… But there had to be something here, right? I brushed past her as I ventured into another room, looking for a kitchen or a pantry. I found nothing. Yes, there were rooms that once could have been a kitchen. But there was nothing in them. No stove or oven. Just empty rooms.
I returned to the main room where Mila had moved closer to the fire, watching me out of the corner of my eye as I searched.
“They had to leave us something.” I said as I searched for another room to explore. I spotted a chest in one corner and headed over to it. It opened with a low creak and kicked up dust as it did.
I’d hoped to at least find some wine in there. But all there was, was a large iron pole, a small rusted knife and a couple more red cloaks, similar to those that we were wearing. I picked up the knife and turned it over in my hands, before looking back at Mila.
“There’s nothing else in here…” I said. “I don’t understand… What are we supposed to do…”
I went over the song again in my head, repeating the first two verses before moving on to the third.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Leave the forest. Leave the forest.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
In context, it wasn’t exactly helpful. Maybe I was getting it wrong? I picked up the iron spit. Looking at it, it looked like it would fit comfortably over the fireplace. It was long enough to place a decently sized animal as well. Perhaps a young pig?
“We can’t figure it out. There’s no point in staying here.” Mila said, “Let’s just go back. It’s too cold to stay out here.”
No… No, I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. I wanted to figure this out! I wanted to understand what was going on here! I looked at the knife in my hand, reciting the final verse of the song under my breath and trying to decipher its meaning… If indeed it had any meaning.
As I did, I could hear something move on the floor above us. Something massive seemed to stir and the entire house seemed to creak under its weight. Both Mila and I fell silent as we looked up. We traded a glance, but neither said a word. I don’t think either of us dared to take a breath.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
We weren’t alone.
The silence around us was deafening and the knowledge that it could be broken at any moment was nothing short of crushing. It was during that silence that I looked down into the trunk again. I hadn’t touched the cloaks at the bottom. I’d dismissed them as something we didn’t need…
But now, as I stared at them, I could see a rusty reddish color staining the white fur trim. I gingerly set the spit down before I reached in to take out one of the cloaks. Dried blood flaked off onto my hands and I felt my stomach lurch slightly as I dropped it.
“What is it?” Mila asked. I looked at her but didn’t have the heart to speak. I just stared at the bloody cloak I’d dropped onto the ground, feeling my knees grow weak beneath me. It took everything I had to keep standing.
I suddenly wanted to vomit… Because I finally understood what we had come here to do… And I did not know if it was something I was capable of. Mila looked at me, oblivious… She didn’t know. She didn’t understand. I envied her. I knew why she’d been chosen…
She’d been chosen because of all the people in Forsel our age, she was the one that no one would miss. She was the one who could disappear, and everyone would simply shrug it off. Even me, if I hadn’t been standing in that room with her, if I hadn’t known what fate had been chosen for her… I never would have thought twice if one day, she’d simply vanished. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if she wasn’t around when I came back again next year. I wouldn’t have even spared her a thought.
Mila was coming closer. She snatched the discarded cloak off of the ground and studied it. I still had the knife in my hands. Her eyes settled on the spit I’d left on the ground… And even with her back to me, I could see that she was putting the pieces together in her head, just like I had.
They’d sent her here to die and they had sent me here to kill her…
I couldn’t do this… I couldn’t murder her! I couldn’t… Dear God, I couldn’t put her on the fire! Then, above us I heard the slow rumble of movement again. Whatever was in the house with us, the Old Man stirred once more.
This time, I could see the ceiling sag as it moved. Mila heard it too and she looked up with wide eyes. The Old Man was waking up. Something told me that he would be hungry.
When I looked at Mila again, her eyes were on me. We stared at each other for several moments, each choosing our future very carefully. She looked at the knife in my hand and I knew what she aimed to do. I gripped it tightly and exhaled… And I waited for her to take it.
She came at me suddenly, lunging at me to try and force me to the ground and rip the knife from my hands. I held it tightly, pulling it out of her grip as she clawed for it, panting in rage as she tried to wrestle it from me.
I…
I don’t remember much about what happened…
One minute, she had brought me down to the ground. One minute, we were fighting. Then the next, I heard her gasp in pain and when I looked down the knife was buried in her ribs. I stumbled backward, ripping it out of her as I scrambled away. She pressed a hand to the wound in her side and looked at me, angry and afraid. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes… I could feel tears welling up in my own.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
The Old Man needed his wine.
I held the knife in my shaking hand as I made my way to the table… I picked up the crystal wine glass and approached her again. Mila looked up at me, knowing what was going to happen next but too badly hurt to resist it anymore. Her lips trembled, tears of anger and dread ran down her cheeks.
“We… We don’t have to…” She said… Those were her final words to me. “Noah! We don’t have to!”
Maybe we didn’t… Maybe…
After I cut her throat, I forced the wound over the wine glass and let it fill with her blood. Mila died, gasping and choking on the floor… I waited until she was dead before I prepared her for the fire.
Above me, I could hear the slow creak of movement. I could hear the Old Man coming.
By the time I heard him on the stairs, his obscene ‘feast’ was cooking… I didn’t stay in the house to see him for myself…
As I heard his heavy footsteps draw nearer, I ran back the way I came and out the door, into the snow. My hands were still slick with Mila’s blood… I was crying as I stumbled back out into the woods.
I had no light to guide me, but I could hear the distant songs from the Pageant… So long as they sang, they would guide me home. I stumbled forwards, away from that house, away from Mila and what I’d done to her… But even as I returned to the woods, I could still hear the jolly laughter of the Old Man from inside the house.
It’s funny… Of all the little things that change between every interpretation of Christmas. One of the ones that doesn’t, is the distinct chuckle of the jolly Old Man who defines it. I’ve heard it imitated so many times by mall Santas, cartoons, television shows, and the like. But none of them have ever captured the sheer mirth in it…
‘Ho Ho Ho.’
No matter who does it, the memory of that laugh still sends a chill through me and I can imagine him, a grossly fat, barely human thing with a flowing white beard carving meat off the spit… Meat that was alive just moments ago… Meat that died, telling me that we didn’t have to do this… Meat that nobody would miss…
I said at the beginning, I have no real answers. I meant that.
When I returned to Forsel, the other children were waiting for me. We returned to the pageant as if nothing was wrong and they stood around me and sang the final song. ‘Sinterklaas Kapoentje’. Then… The pageant was over. We went home.
Christmas passed like it always passes. Nobody mentioned Mila… Not even her own mother, although I’m told that she did leave town a few months later. A few times, I considered asking about what happened in the forest. What I saw… What I did… Maybe my parents would know, or some of the others in town who had arranged the pageant. Maybe they’d understand why they sent Mila and I out into the forest. Maybe they’d have an answer.
But I’m ashamed to confess that I never gathered up the strength to do so. To this day, I’m not sure if it was the fear of facing the guilt of what I’d done, or the fear of truly knowing what was out there that kept me from asking. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
Even if I never could ask about it though… Sometimes, I caught my mother looking at me and the expression in her eyes was… It reminded me of the way the man in the forest had spoken to us, before we’d departed into the woods. There was a deep sorrow there. The implication of a heavy truth that couldn’t be spoken. I never asked my mother about it. To this day we’ve never spoken about the Christmas Pageant. I don’t think we ever will.
What I know for certain is that when I was 12 years old, I participated in a ritual of some sort. One child, held in high regard by the community, sacrifices one that the community holds in low regard.
Perhaps it is necessary so that the Old Man continues to sleep… Perhaps if Forsel were ever to fail to perform the annual ‘Christmas Pageant’, he would wake and find his feast elsewhere. I don’t doubt that would be a calamity. Maybe that’s just something I choose to believe, so I can tell myself that Mila was wrong… That I had to kill her. That we couldn’t have just walked away. I really don’t know for sure. Maybe I’ll never know.
I have not returned to Forsel in years and I’ve never been back around Christmastime. Even the year after my last year in the pageant, I begged and pleaded to stay elsewhere on Christmas. I spent those two months staying with a friend, going to school normally and trying as hard as I could not to think about Forsel. It always crept back into my mind, though. Always.
After my grandparents died, my parents moved to Forsel full time. I was old enough to strike out on my own then, so that’s exactly what I did. I still talk to them, but I very rarely visit. I tell them that a flight to the Netherlands would be too expensive. It’s a good excuse.
I haven’t seen the Christmas Pageant ever since my last year participating, but when I was down in Forsel last, about five years back, I couldn’t help but notice that the town seemed smaller than before. There were more abandoned buildings and fewer people. I can’t imagine there are a lot of children left there now and somehow, I doubt that those who’ve moved away are coming back just for the Holidays. There are precious few things left to tie anyone there anymore.
My parents don’t talk about the state of the town, but I can hear it in their voices. Forsel is dying. It’s dying the same slow, drawn out death that countless small communities have died in the past. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. Part of me is almost glad but part of me… Part of me is afraid of it... I can hear the dread in my parents' voices whenever they dare to mention Forsel… From an ocean away I can almost sense their fear of the upcoming holiday season.
How many children are left in Forsel now? At least one less every year...How many people are still putting together the pageant?
How much longer can they carry on?
And what happens when they can’t?
submitted byHeadOfSpectretoHeadOfSpectre [link][comments]
I will warn you up front, the Forsel Christmas Pageant is not exactly what one might immediately expect when they hear the words ‘Christmas Pageant.’ I would honestly say that the name does not exactly fit it well. But that is what they have called it for as long as I can remember and if it has any other name, I do not know it.
The tradition probably dates back longer than Forsel has even existed. I don’t know the full history behind it, and I’m not entirely sure that there is anyone still alive who does. Even those in Forsel who still hold fast to the old traditions, probably don’t know where they came from anymore. It’s all been lost to time and buried by history.
Because of all of that: I can provide no real answers beyond what little I experienced firsthand. I have however, drawn some of my own conclusions from what I do know and I imagine that you will do the same. Whether there truly is anything behind the Forsel Christmas Pageant or not is really a matter of personal belief. At the end of the day, it is very much just a strange local tradition and may have no real significance towards the rest of the world. Whatever the case, it is what I grew up with and despite everything, I still do hold my fond memories of it.
When I was a young boy, I participated in the Forsel Christmas Pageant. But then again, so does every other child under 12. Participation is considered to be mandatory, although that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun. While yes, the pageant itself is a rather formal and somewhat dour affair, kids will still be kids. Put enough of them in a room together and they’ll find some way to have fun.
I was a bit of an odd case amongst some of the other children. My mother had been born in Forsel, but she’d moved to the United States where she’d met my father years ago. Most of the year, we lived in a decent sized house in the American suburbs. But during November and December, we’d spend our time in Forsel, living with my grandparents.
I used to look forward to it every year. Not just because I got a couple of months away from school, but because I had friends in town. It was always exciting to see them and catch up. It was like for a couple of months, I could live an entirely different life, just for a little while. I wasn’t the only one who only ‘lived’ in Forsel during the Holiday season. A lot of people who’d moved abroad came back for the Christmas Pageant. They’d bring their kids to participate and it was just as fun to see them too. Most of them had moved to America, but some had come from Canada, England and a few other surrounding countries. The Christmas Pageant brought us all together. We would play games during breaks, or after rehearsals. We’d play in the snow, out by the pageant grounds or play hide and seek in the forest so long as it wasn’t too dark. In fact, I remember looking forward to rehearsal days just because I knew I’d get to see my friends.
I remember once, my friend Bram and I caught hell from one of the organizers during a dress rehearsal when we took advantage of a break to go tobogganing out back. Our costumes had been covered in snow when we’d returned and the old woman who’d been organizing the pageant that year chewed us both out in dutch for the better part of fifteen minutes. She’d made us finish the rehearsal soaking wet as punishment, but I can’t say either of us regretted a thing, even though I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life.
Looking back on it, I suppose it is a little bit funny how excited I was for the pageant every year. As I said before, the actual proceedings are a little bit dull and I can’t quite say that it was very ‘Christmassy’. Not in the conventional sense, at least. But that’s Forsel for you. Their traditions are a little simpler than what most others are used to. In fact, I couldn’t tell you of a single place in the world that does Christmas the same way they do it in Forsel and I’m genuinely not sure I mean that entirely as a compliment. I’ve seen how the rest of the world views the holiday and how drastically different it is from what I grew up with. Outside of Forsel, there’s much more focus on the upbeat aspects of the holiday. The bright colors, the gifts, and the jolly old man in red. Yes, you get some of that in Forsel, but not quite as much. Christmas was always a much more quiet and formal affair.
For example, their Christmas season didn’t officially start until December. There were no decorations in November, as those were considered to bring bad luck. It was usually mid December before anyone began decorating and even then, they weren’t quite as flashy as some of the ones I’ve seen in other parts of the world.
There were no elaborate lights or figurines. It was all very traditional. Grandma and Grandpa would decorate their home with bits of greenery. Handmade evergreen wreaths and boughs of holly, amongst other things. Nothing plastic or bought from a store. That was partially because the nearest place to buy such things was an hour or so drive out of town, and partially because they all seemed to look down on such things as an omen of bad luck.
We’d cut our Christmas trees from the forest outside of town and decorate them with old ornaments, most of which were handmade by our grandparents although each member of the family contributed a decoration or two of their own making in time. There were no carolers, or special holiday sales in the local shops. Nobody dressed up as Santa Claus and there were very few, if any parties. Outside of the decorations, Christmas was always a quiet and family focused affair. The only major community gathering they had was the pageant which was held every year on the evening of December 20th.
It came around like clockwork and was carried out in much the same way. As I said before, every child under 12 was required to participate. Usually, there wouldn’t be more than 20 or 30 of us, almost half of whom weren’t full time residents. Being a small town, Forsel didn’t have very many children and by the time I left, that number had dwindled to around 15, including those who came down just for the pageant. There are probably even less of them now...
The pageant was never particularly exciting to either watch or to perform. But everyone in town came to see it all the same, and every child participated in it. As the sun set on December 20th, everyone in town would venture out to the pageant grounds on the edge of town.
The pageant grounds were carved in stone, near the edge of the forest. People brought their own chairs to set them down and would watch as the children gathered with their backs to the trees. They would assemble in rows with the youngest in the front and the oldest in the back, all of them dressed in red cloaks lined with white furs and they would sing.
The songs they had them sing were always… Strange. The lyrics weren’t in any language I know. In fact, I’m not sure just what language they were in at all. I have looked (halfheartedly) for an answer but I’ve never found one. We all knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean, of course. We had all read the lyric sheets which came with a translation. Although I don’t think any of us thought too hard on any of it. It wasn’t until recently when I thought about the Forsel Christmas Pageant that I truly stopped to think about them and realized just how odd they were.
The translated lyrics were as follows, (although my memory is a bit rusty, so if there are some errors, please forgive me)
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.L
ight the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Follow the song. Follow the song.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
The song doesn’t make much sense outside of context, unfortunately and translated into English, I’d say that it loses most of its impact. That said... I’d be lying if I said that reading these words again after all these years didn’t send an icy chill through me. I can still hear the low chanting of children, reciting the song in its original language. No music to accompany them, just a chorus of young voices speaking words they didn’t understand to a sea of adults who regarded the whole affair with a stern intensity.
This was always the first song sung that began the pageant and it was the most important. There were other songs sung after this, of course. But nothing with quite the same impact. Nothing in that bizarre, forgotten language that no one understood. The other songs were more traditional Dutch carols, the kind you’d hear elsewhere in the Netherlands and most of the children participated in those while the other part of the pageant was prepared.
Every year, two of the oldest children would be selected from the group of 12 year olds who wouldn’t be participating next year. It was always people chosen both by the other children, and by the adults and it was always someone thought well of by the community. They were usually the kids who did well in school, were kind to their friends and treated others with empathy. ‘Good’ kids.
Most children don’t see the full extent of the Forsel Christmas Pageant. Sure, they hear things. Rumors, whispers… But they dismiss them. I know I did. I wrote it off as some odd tradition and maybe it is. Maybe there really is nothing more to it… But I don’t know if I believe that. When I was told that I was one of the ones who was chosen amongst my peers, I was beyond excited. I’d seen it happen to others over the years. During the pageant, while the younger children sang, the oldest would quietly leave and retreat into the woods with one of the adults.
They would remain absent until the last song, when at last they would return. We never saw what they did and nobody ever talked about it. But I knew that it involved the chosen children doing something special. But I’d never imagined that I would be one of the ones who was picked. I wasn’t a full time resident, but I guess that hadn’t stopped them before. I was a good student back at home (much to the pride of my Grandparents who were quite vocal about it). I had lots of friends both in Forsel and back home and I got along well with just about everybody. But I probably could’ve named others who were a better fit. Maybe that was why I was the ideal choice? I can’t say… But I was excited nonetheless.
The other child who had chosen alongside me was a girl named Mila. Unlike me, she lived in Forsel full time and I only somewhat knew her. I can’t say we were ever really friends. I had heard whispers and rumors about her of course, none of which were very flattering. Even in a small town, kids can be cruel.
What I did know for sure however was that her family life was not a happy one. Her father had passed away years ago, although I could not tell you how and her mother worked long hours at a local lumber mill. Without any other family in her life, Mila had started down a difficult path. I’d heard that she missed school often, and while I was in Forsel, I’d seen her in a pickup truck, belonging to some stranger from out of town a few times. A man who was at least old enough to drive. Once my friend Bram and I had spotted her sleeping in a tent in the woods. You could smell the alcohol on her from a good distance away.
Her life was not set up to be a happy one and knowing what I knew about her, I pitied her more than anything else. She was not who I would have expected to be chosen alongside me… But I never resented her for that. If anything, I couldn’t help but be happy for her. Perhaps this would be a good thing? Maybe it was a sign that things were getting better for her? Who could say.
During the rehearsals, the adults spent extra time with me and the other children my age. We would stay longer, while the other kids were allowed to play and we would venture into the woods to a small, snowy clearing. There they told us how we would be here, after the opening song of the pageant. They told the others how they were to wait, patiently and silently while Mila and I were to venture alone into the woods.
They said it was part of the tradition, that the path was clearly marked so we wouldn’t get lost… I never questioned any of it. It was too exciting to question it! It’s funny, tell a person they were chosen, tell them that they’re special… They’ll do just about anything. All of it was just part of the tradition. Part of the pageant… They never let us actually go down that path. They said we could only go down that path in the woods on the day of the pageant. They never explicitly told us what we’d be doing when we went down there either. They simply told us that we’d know and of course I trusted them implicitly.
Mila and I never really spoke during the rehearsals (When she was there). I honestly wasn’t sure what to say to her and she mostly preferred to keep to herself anyways. I got the impression that she wasn’t particularly interested in having been chosen… But I didn’t let her lack of enthusiasm kill my own excitement for the coming pageant. I was so blinded by the idea that something special, something very few others had seen was waiting for me that I couldn’t have cared less what she did or didn’t do.
December 20th rolled around. I was 12 years old and it felt like the single proudest day of my life. My age group was the last on the stage. We were dressed in the same red cloaks as the others, but mine and Milas were special amongst them. There was a gold trim to the fur and a shimmering gold pattern on my cloak that marked us as the ones they’d chosen. I still have photographs of myself from that night, beaming with pride, dressed in that red and gold cloak as if I’d just achieved everything I could’ve possibly wanted.
From where I stood on the pageant grounds, I could see the whole town, gathered to watch us. Behind them, sat Forsel. Quaint, quiet and snow capped, lit by a full moon. It was beautiful… Like something out of a holiday postcard. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever see a sight so lovely again. We sang that bizarre opening song. I knew the lyrics without even looking down at the sheet in my hands. I don’t think I’d ever sang it quite so well before. Then, when the unusual chanting song ended, the 12 year olds left quietly and ventured into the woods. I could see one of the adults who had helped us prepare standing by the edge of the trees, an oil lantern in his hand. He gestured for us to follow and we did, staying in single file the entire time.
He didn’t speak. None of us did. The only sound was the crunch of our boots in the snow as we weaved through the trees and into the quiet clearing we’d come to know. There, we stood in a half moon shape. There were only 7 of us, myself and Mila included. The other 5 children looked at me expectantly as they took their positions and the man who’d led us out there (I recall his name was Finn, although I never knew him well) quietly addressed us.
“Tonight is an important night for all of us.” He said, “When you leave this clearing, you will be grown and you can never go back… Do you understand that?”
He was met with silence, but I got the impression that was the answer he’d been expecting. He managed a slight smile before looking at me. He offered me the lantern and I took it.
“You two should go. There’s someone waiting for you up ahead. You’ll know what to do.”
Something about his tone was… Well… It’s hard to describe. Time has taken so much from me, there is so much that I struggle to remember. I don’t remember the name of the man who led us into the woods, I don’t remember the names of a few of the other kids who stood with me in that clearing. I doubt I could recognize most of their faces now. But I remember very clearly the tone in his voice. There was a heaviness to it. An almost regrettable tone. He said it as if it was an apology and I didn’t understand why. Not at first.
The lantern felt heavy in my hand. The man nodded at me and Mila and with one last look back at him, I ventured forward into the forest. Mila didn’t say a word as she followed me. But she lingered behind as if she didn’t want to go. Maybe in her heart, she knew better than to follow me into the woods. But tradition urged her forward and in the end, common sense didn’t stay her feet. She followed in my footsteps. Staying close enough to be in the light, but no closer.
After the first few steps, I didn’t look back as the trees swallowed me up. The moonlight's reflection off of the snow almost made it bright enough to see where I was going even without the lantern and the trees cast sinister shadows around me. But I continued to walk, eyes set ahead, looking for the light of someone else waiting for me.
We kept a slow pace, keeping an eye out for the small stacks of stones and flags tied to branches that marked the way. They were dusted in snow, but I could find them easily enough. After what felt like a half hour of walking though, I never saw any light or any indication that I wasn’t alone. The only sound I heard was the distant singing from the pageant and the low whispers of the wind.
Mila spoke after a while, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
“What exactly are we out here for? How much further do we need to walk?”
“I don’t know.” Was the only reply I could give her. “I suppose we’ll know it when we see it.”
“They didn’t tell you?” She asked, clearly annoyed. I heard her swear and saw her reach under her cloak for a cigarette.
“You shouldn’t. What if you get seen?” I said. She didn’t respond, she just glared at me as if to imply some sort of threat. I thought better of saying anything more about it. I let her trail behind and smoke as I kept walking. The crunch of her boots in the snow and the stink of tobacco was the only thing that told me she was still there.
The next time she spoke, several minutes later it was to suggest that we turn around before we get lost. But I insisted we stay on the path, just to see it through to the end. I could tell that she wanted to turn back anyway. But the darkness behind us was deep. I’m sure that she could have made it back without a light… But she didn’t want to try. She tossed her cigarette aside and picked up the pace behind me, eager to get this over with. I suppose I really couldn’t blame her for that.
It wasn’t much further until we saw the house. I could see it through the trees as we neared the end of the trail. It was old and made of weathered stone. Virgin snow covered the roof and the grounds leading up to it.
The windows were dark but I knew that this was where we were meant to be. My pace quickened as I hurried towards the door. For a moment, I forgot about Mila in my haste to see what was waiting for us, to see what we’d been chosen for! I could hear her running behind me to catch up and stay close to the light. By the time she caught up to me, my hand was already on the door and turning the knob.
It swung open with a gust of wind, and I only barely stopped it from slamming against the wall. I looked back at Mila. Her brow was furrowed in curiosity. She pursed her lips, before stepping inside and calling out:
“Hello?”
There was no answer. The house seemed empty. I’d expected it to be at least a little warmer inside. But the air seemed cold enough to cut me to the bone. I could see Mila shiver as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. She glanced at me cautiously before going further into the house and I’ll admit, I was a little happy to see her showing some enthusiasm about this. I stayed close to her, listening for some other sign of life in that empty house but as far as I could tell there was none.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” She asked as she ventured down the hall and into another room. The room was large, with a large fireplace dominating one wall. I could see some weak embers glowing inside and approached them. The fire was nearly dead. It would need to be stoked. I set about doing just that.
Mila stood behind me, squinting in the darkness to survey the rest of the room. I didn’t notice when she stepped away from me, towards a large table that dominated the center of the room. I was too focused on the fire and getting it restarted. Studying it, I could see the broken, burnt and twisted remains of a couple of oil lanterns, similar to the one I was holding. It seemed as if whoever had set the fire last had smashed their lantern to do so. Odd… I looked over at Mila again. She was standing by the head of the table, holding a dusty bottle of wine beside an ornate crystal glass. She’d pulled the cork off and found it empty. She looked a little bit disappointed.
“No wine and no food.” She said, “What are we supposed to do?”
Wine and food…
The moment she said those words, I understood.
In the forest. In the forest.
Where the snow is not broken and the Old Man sleeps.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
The song we’d sang for as long as we could sing… This was the house it spoke of, it had to be! An old house in the forest, covered in unbroken snow with a dying cold fire? It fit too well... What was the next verse?
Be good and walk quietly. Don’t make a sound.Light the fire and open the wine.
The Old Man sleeps for now.We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
I understood…
“It’s a feast. We need to prepare a feast!” I said, “The fire, we need to light it. We need roast meat and red wine!”
“A feast?” She asked, “Like in that song? For what, an old man? There’s nobody here. Let’s go. It’s cold and I don’t want to stay here any longer. We don’t have meat and wine anyways!”
She was right. Had there been something we missed? Meat and wine… Perhaps there was some in the house, somewhere? I looked down at the lantern in my hand. It would be easier to find out if we had some light. I hadn’t questioned things up until now. Why start now? I’d seen the twisted remains of other lanterns in the fireplace. It was obvious to me what I had to do.
I dashed my lantern down into the fireplace, shattering it and igniting the embers anew. Mila cried out in surprise as warmth bloomed in the old house. I looked around, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the light. The old house did look abandoned… But there had to be something here, right? I brushed past her as I ventured into another room, looking for a kitchen or a pantry. I found nothing. Yes, there were rooms that once could have been a kitchen. But there was nothing in them. No stove or oven. Just empty rooms.
I returned to the main room where Mila had moved closer to the fire, watching me out of the corner of my eye as I searched.
“They had to leave us something.” I said as I searched for another room to explore. I spotted a chest in one corner and headed over to it. It opened with a low creak and kicked up dust as it did.
I’d hoped to at least find some wine in there. But all there was, was a large iron pole, a small rusted knife and a couple more red cloaks, similar to those that we were wearing. I picked up the knife and turned it over in my hands, before looking back at Mila.
“There’s nothing else in here…” I said. “I don’t understand… What are we supposed to do…”
I went over the song again in my head, repeating the first two verses before moving on to the third.
On this day, would no sinner be unpunished.
On this night, let no good man be harmed.
Leave the forest. Leave the forest.
Let the Old Man sleep again.
In context, it wasn’t exactly helpful. Maybe I was getting it wrong? I picked up the iron spit. Looking at it, it looked like it would fit comfortably over the fireplace. It was long enough to place a decently sized animal as well. Perhaps a young pig?
“We can’t figure it out. There’s no point in staying here.” Mila said, “Let’s just go back. It’s too cold to stay out here.”
No… No, I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. I wanted to figure this out! I wanted to understand what was going on here! I looked at the knife in my hand, reciting the final verse of the song under my breath and trying to decipher its meaning… If indeed it had any meaning.
As I did, I could hear something move on the floor above us. Something massive seemed to stir and the entire house seemed to creak under its weight. Both Mila and I fell silent as we looked up. We traded a glance, but neither said a word. I don’t think either of us dared to take a breath.
In the house. In the house.
Where the fire is cold and the Old Man sleeps.
We weren’t alone.
The silence around us was deafening and the knowledge that it could be broken at any moment was nothing short of crushing. It was during that silence that I looked down into the trunk again. I hadn’t touched the cloaks at the bottom. I’d dismissed them as something we didn’t need…
But now, as I stared at them, I could see a rusty reddish color staining the white fur trim. I gingerly set the spit down before I reached in to take out one of the cloaks. Dried blood flaked off onto my hands and I felt my stomach lurch slightly as I dropped it.
“What is it?” Mila asked. I looked at her but didn’t have the heart to speak. I just stared at the bloody cloak I’d dropped onto the ground, feeling my knees grow weak beneath me. It took everything I had to keep standing.
I suddenly wanted to vomit… Because I finally understood what we had come here to do… And I did not know if it was something I was capable of. Mila looked at me, oblivious… She didn’t know. She didn’t understand. I envied her. I knew why she’d been chosen…
She’d been chosen because of all the people in Forsel our age, she was the one that no one would miss. She was the one who could disappear, and everyone would simply shrug it off. Even me, if I hadn’t been standing in that room with her, if I hadn’t known what fate had been chosen for her… I never would have thought twice if one day, she’d simply vanished. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if she wasn’t around when I came back again next year. I wouldn’t have even spared her a thought.
Mila was coming closer. She snatched the discarded cloak off of the ground and studied it. I still had the knife in my hands. Her eyes settled on the spit I’d left on the ground… And even with her back to me, I could see that she was putting the pieces together in her head, just like I had.
They’d sent her here to die and they had sent me here to kill her…
I couldn’t do this… I couldn’t murder her! I couldn’t… Dear God, I couldn’t put her on the fire! Then, above us I heard the slow rumble of movement again. Whatever was in the house with us, the Old Man stirred once more.
This time, I could see the ceiling sag as it moved. Mila heard it too and she looked up with wide eyes. The Old Man was waking up. Something told me that he would be hungry.
When I looked at Mila again, her eyes were on me. We stared at each other for several moments, each choosing our future very carefully. She looked at the knife in my hand and I knew what she aimed to do. I gripped it tightly and exhaled… And I waited for her to take it.
She came at me suddenly, lunging at me to try and force me to the ground and rip the knife from my hands. I held it tightly, pulling it out of her grip as she clawed for it, panting in rage as she tried to wrestle it from me.
I…
I don’t remember much about what happened…
One minute, she had brought me down to the ground. One minute, we were fighting. Then the next, I heard her gasp in pain and when I looked down the knife was buried in her ribs. I stumbled backward, ripping it out of her as I scrambled away. She pressed a hand to the wound in her side and looked at me, angry and afraid. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes… I could feel tears welling up in my own.
We offer a gift of roast meat and red wine.
The Old Man needed his wine.
I held the knife in my shaking hand as I made my way to the table… I picked up the crystal wine glass and approached her again. Mila looked up at me, knowing what was going to happen next but too badly hurt to resist it anymore. Her lips trembled, tears of anger and dread ran down her cheeks.
“We… We don’t have to…” She said… Those were her final words to me. “Noah! We don’t have to!”
Maybe we didn’t… Maybe…
After I cut her throat, I forced the wound over the wine glass and let it fill with her blood. Mila died, gasping and choking on the floor… I waited until she was dead before I prepared her for the fire.
Above me, I could hear the slow creak of movement. I could hear the Old Man coming.
By the time I heard him on the stairs, his obscene ‘feast’ was cooking… I didn’t stay in the house to see him for myself…
As I heard his heavy footsteps draw nearer, I ran back the way I came and out the door, into the snow. My hands were still slick with Mila’s blood… I was crying as I stumbled back out into the woods.
I had no light to guide me, but I could hear the distant songs from the Pageant… So long as they sang, they would guide me home. I stumbled forwards, away from that house, away from Mila and what I’d done to her… But even as I returned to the woods, I could still hear the jolly laughter of the Old Man from inside the house.
It’s funny… Of all the little things that change between every interpretation of Christmas. One of the ones that doesn’t, is the distinct chuckle of the jolly Old Man who defines it. I’ve heard it imitated so many times by mall Santas, cartoons, television shows, and the like. But none of them have ever captured the sheer mirth in it…
‘Ho Ho Ho.’
No matter who does it, the memory of that laugh still sends a chill through me and I can imagine him, a grossly fat, barely human thing with a flowing white beard carving meat off the spit… Meat that was alive just moments ago… Meat that died, telling me that we didn’t have to do this… Meat that nobody would miss…
I said at the beginning, I have no real answers. I meant that.
When I returned to Forsel, the other children were waiting for me. We returned to the pageant as if nothing was wrong and they stood around me and sang the final song. ‘Sinterklaas Kapoentje’. Then… The pageant was over. We went home.
Christmas passed like it always passes. Nobody mentioned Mila… Not even her own mother, although I’m told that she did leave town a few months later. A few times, I considered asking about what happened in the forest. What I saw… What I did… Maybe my parents would know, or some of the others in town who had arranged the pageant. Maybe they’d understand why they sent Mila and I out into the forest. Maybe they’d have an answer.
But I’m ashamed to confess that I never gathered up the strength to do so. To this day, I’m not sure if it was the fear of facing the guilt of what I’d done, or the fear of truly knowing what was out there that kept me from asking. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
Even if I never could ask about it though… Sometimes, I caught my mother looking at me and the expression in her eyes was… It reminded me of the way the man in the forest had spoken to us, before we’d departed into the woods. There was a deep sorrow there. The implication of a heavy truth that couldn’t be spoken. I never asked my mother about it. To this day we’ve never spoken about the Christmas Pageant. I don’t think we ever will.
What I know for certain is that when I was 12 years old, I participated in a ritual of some sort. One child, held in high regard by the community, sacrifices one that the community holds in low regard.
Perhaps it is necessary so that the Old Man continues to sleep… Perhaps if Forsel were ever to fail to perform the annual ‘Christmas Pageant’, he would wake and find his feast elsewhere. I don’t doubt that would be a calamity. Maybe that’s just something I choose to believe, so I can tell myself that Mila was wrong… That I had to kill her. That we couldn’t have just walked away. I really don’t know for sure. Maybe I’ll never know.
I have not returned to Forsel in years and I’ve never been back around Christmastime. Even the year after my last year in the pageant, I begged and pleaded to stay elsewhere on Christmas. I spent those two months staying with a friend, going to school normally and trying as hard as I could not to think about Forsel. It always crept back into my mind, though. Always.
After my grandparents died, my parents moved to Forsel full time. I was old enough to strike out on my own then, so that’s exactly what I did. I still talk to them, but I very rarely visit. I tell them that a flight to the Netherlands would be too expensive. It’s a good excuse.
I haven’t seen the Christmas Pageant ever since my last year participating, but when I was down in Forsel last, about five years back, I couldn’t help but notice that the town seemed smaller than before. There were more abandoned buildings and fewer people. I can’t imagine there are a lot of children left there now and somehow, I doubt that those who’ve moved away are coming back just for the Holidays. There are precious few things left to tie anyone there anymore.
My parents don’t talk about the state of the town, but I can hear it in their voices. Forsel is dying. It’s dying the same slow, drawn out death that countless small communities have died in the past. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. Part of me is almost glad but part of me… Part of me is afraid of it... I can hear the dread in my parents' voices whenever they dare to mention Forsel… From an ocean away I can almost sense their fear of the upcoming holiday season.
How many children are left in Forsel now? At least one less every year...How many people are still putting together the pageant?
How much longer can they carry on?
And what happens when they can’t?
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