Many of you gleefully make the mistake of keeping foods you should never store in the refrigerator out of habit or ignorance.
The household refrigerator seems the most likely place to keep foods fresh for a longer period.
However, certain ingredients aren’t just compatible with colder temperatures. This article lists foods you should never store in the refrigerator.
It also discusses certain foods that can only be kept in the refrigerator under certain conditions.

1. Garlic

Photo by Matthew Pilachowski
Garlic is one food that rots faster when kept in the refrigerator because of the extra moisture unless already peeled and prepared.
The best storage location for garlic is in a dry place with room temperature, enough air circulation, and a distance from light.
When left whole, garlic bulbs tend to last longer until they are ready for use. If you’re looking to use additional garlic bulbs, you could try producing your own garlic oil.

2. Olive Oil

Olive oil is one of the foods you should never store in the refrigerator. Refrigerating oils often make them cloudy and grainy.
If you want these oils to maintain their consistency and color, they should be stored at room temperature.
However, you should also note that olive oil can rapidly degrade in quality when stored in places with high temperatures or exposed to sunlight.
Storing it in a cool, dark place, such as the cupboard or shelf in the kitchen, is better than leaving it on top of the shelf, drawer, cabinet, or table.

3. Nuts

Although lower temperatures may help sustain the natural oils in nuts, the cold can also affect or alter their flavor.
If you desire to use them soon, it’s best to keep nuts in a container in the pantry where air doesn’t circulate or reach. The location doesn’t have to be too warm well.
On the other hand, if you want the nuts to last longer and don’t plan to use them until further notice, keep them in the refrigerator.

4. Mangoes (unripe)

Like avocados, unripe mangoes should be kept or stored at room temperature because low temperatures slow the ripening process. Once ripe, they can be stored in a plastic bag and stored in the refrigerator.

5. Honey

It doesn’t matter where you keep honey since it lasts for a long time irrespective of storage location. Honey is on this list for different reasons, including longevity or duration.
Honey should not be stored in the refrigerator, as the low temperatures will cause it to solidify and crystallize.
So unless you want to struggle with your honey, you should leave it in its gooey, paste-like form. They are some of the foods you should never store in the refrigerator.

6. Coffee

Photo by Maria
Coffee, by default, absorbs the smell of the ingredients surrounding it. This means that storing it in the refrigerator can impair its flavor. The coffee will absorb the smells of other food in the fridge.
Instead, it should be stored in a closed container at room temperature, away from sunlight. This ensures that your coffee sustains its freshness until you are ready to brew it.

7. Onions

Whole onions that haven’t been peeled or sliced should preferably be stored at room temperature, away from the light.
Onions contain starch, so if stored in the refrigerator for too long, they will likely become damp and soggy and eventually rot.
So, if you must store cut onions in your refrigerator, seal them in a moisture-free container. Onions are among the foods you should never store in the refrigerator.

8. Avocados (Unripe)

If you want your avocados to ripen, they should be kept far away from the fridge for four to seven days. Freezing them will only lengthen the ripening process and can trigger them to go off more rapidly.
Once they have ripened, they can be stored in the refrigerator until you are ready to eat them.

9. Potatoes

Potatoes should never be stored in the refrigerator. Low temperatures convert the starch in potatoes to sugar, which can discolor them and cause them to lose their taste.
Potatoes should be kept unwashed in a place that’s not prone to sunlight. If you can lay your hand on a burlap sack, store them in it.

10. Pumpkin

Pumpkins should preferably be exposed to sunlight to sustain their freshness or toughen their skin. This process is known as “curing.”
Once this has been done and accomplished, they can now be kept away from sunlight. The location should also be devoid of moisture and have good air circulation, which is no colder than 10°C (50°F).
However, storing them in the refrigerator will trigger them to turn faster. Cured and well-kept pumpkins can last as long as six months.

11. Cakes

Your cake tends to have a taste that’s way better when it’s not very cold. If you want to preserve the freshness of your cake, it’s best to keep it in a container that keeps air out for a period ranging from three to seven days.
Anyways, if the cake is filled with cream or has cream toppings, refrigerating it should be the best. They are some of the foods you should never store in the refrigerator.

12. Butternut squash

The refrigerator’s moisture can affect the butternut squash’s quality and cause it to go off quickly. If you want to store a whole squash, keep it on a shelf or table at room temperature.
Once it’s cut, you can store it in the refrigerator, in form or cubes, for not more than four days.

13. Hot sauce

Storing hot sauce in your refrigerator is unnecessary simply because this sauce is usually rich in vinegar. Vinegar usually inhibits the growth of bacteria.
Like other foods, the chili’s hotness will be more substantial if the sauce is stored at room temperature.

14. Bread

If you intend to consume all your bread within a few days, you shouldn’t store it in the refrigerator. Like potatoes and sweet potatoes, low temperatures alter bread’s structure, giving it a stale taste.
You can only freeze your bread if you don’t intend to use it soon. To defrost and refresh frozen bread, simply put it in your toaster or oven.

15. Peanut butter

Peanut butter that has been processed can become very firm and stiff in the fridge, which makes spreading it on your toast a bit problematic. It’s more of a middle ground when it comes to organic peanut butter.
The peanut spread can last longer when stored in the fridge, but it will be at the cost of its oil separation.
At lower temperatures, it’s less comfortable to stir the product back to its proper consistency. If you intend to eat it within a period of six to nine months, it is safe if stored away from the fridge.

16. Dried fruits

Storing dried fruits in your refrigerator will only give it unwanted moisture. They are best secured in places that are void of moisture, away from sunlight and air.

17. Sweet potatoes

Similar to potatoes, keeping sweet potatoes in the refrigerator will alter the chemical composition of the vegetable. This will damage or impair its texture and flavor.
Sweet potatoes should be kept in a cupboard or pantry, with good air circulation, room temperature, and not prone or exposed to sunlight.

18. Aubergines

Neither the refrigerator nor a very warm place is the ideal storage location for an aubergine unless you want it to get wrinkled and dry.
So somewhere in between is the perfect location for this food. The recommended place will be a place at room temperature, away from direct sunlight.

19. Chocolate

The refrigerator is possibly the worst place to store your bar or box of chocolates. The low temperature and moisture of the refrigerator can alter the taste, color, and texture.
Chocolate, particularly cocoa butter, also tends to absorb other foods’ aromas nearby. The best thing is to keep it away from other pungent or aromatic ingredients.
Instead, secure your chocolate in a place devoid of moisture and away from the sunlight. Store in an airtight container if you’ve already broken into it.

20. Melons

Unripe melons can be preserved in the cupboard or shelf. There’s just minimal effect pertaining to the freshness, besides, leaving such a large fruit out of the refrigerator saves you a lot of space.
Sliced melons should be sealed and preserved in the refrigerator. They are some of the foods you should never store in the refrigerator.

21. Bananas

Banana is the kind of food that requires a temperature within the range of 15 to 20°C (59-68°F) for it to ripen properly.
However, the ripening process is stopped or paused when the banana is stored in the refrigerator. Plus, the skin might gradually blacken due to the effect the low temperature has on the fruit’s cell walls.

22. Pastries

To get the best out of pastries, they are best stored in wraps in paper bags and preserved in a place at room temperature.
Storing your pastries in the refrigerator will expose them to moisture, alternating their texture and rendering them soggy and limp. They are some of the foods you should never store in the refrigerator.

23. Salad Dressing

Many salad dressings are either vinegar or oil-based, so they will be just fine if kept in the cupboard for a few days. Only dressings with cream should be kept in the refrigerator.

24. Peaches

It’s best to keep peaches away from the refrigerator when they are not ripe or ready to be eaten. It’s not a good idea to keep fresh peaches away from the fridge.
Similar to several other stone fruits, very low temperatures inhibit the ripening process, which means it will take longer before you can eat the peach.
Storing it in the fridge only makes it exposed to a higher risk of rotting. Keep them on the countertop instead and only resort to refrigerating if they’re about ready to be dug into.

25. Chocolate spread

This delicious and tasty condiment is a delight on toast. Still, when stored at low temperatures, it becomes a lot more difficult to spread.
The chocolate flavor tends to come out better when the jar is kept at room temperature.
So ensure the lid is airtight and store it in your cupboard or pantry.

26. Syrup

It is convenient to keep your syrup in the cupboard if you spend time, say a few months to consume a jar of it.
Because most syrups are made of a low quantity of water and high sugar concentration, including golden and maple syrups, they are best stored away from the refrigerator.
At low temperatures, syrups tend to become solidified, which isn’t recommended if you plan to pour them over pancakes.

27. Champagne

If you don’t intend to open a bottle of Champagne or sparkling wine within five days, don’t store it in the refrigerator.
This is because the alternating temperature of the door opening and closing will impair its taste.
Champagne is best preserved on its side, in a dark place with a constant temperature. You can then keep it in the fridge for a few hours before you open it.

28. Tomato ketchup

It’s frequently argued whether ketchup should be kept in the cupboard or refrigerator. Anyways, bottled ketchup has been in the market and stored before the fridge was introduced as a household item.
Ketchup has a rich level of vinegar, salt and sugar content. This makes it okay to preserve it at room temperature without it rotting.

29. Citrus fruits

If you didn’t know, citrus fruits are more succulent, and they taste better when stored at room temperature.
Keep citrus fruits such as lemons, limes, grapefruit, and oranges in a cool, dry place, and ensure you eat them within a few weeks.
If you intend to store them for a longer time, preserve them in a plastic bag in the fridge crisper drawer.

30. Pickled Vegetables

As long as you’ve not tainted the jar with a filthy spoon, the chemicals meant for preservation being used in processed pickles mean they should last well enough in the cupboard or shelf.
It frees up much-needed space in the refrigerator. Ensure the lid is airtight, and view the use-by date, and any particular instructions on the label.
However, if you are keeping fermented pickles or you’ve pickled your vegetables, these are best stored in the refrigerator.

31. Soy sauce

Although storing bottled soy sauce in the fridge may be stated on the labels. Still, food outlets usually leave the condiment on the tables all day.
This shows that it can be kept at room temperature for as long as six months due to the high salt content.

32. Fresh soft herbs

Soft herbs such as basil, coriander, mint, parsley, and dill should be handled like bunches of flowers. They should be cut and stored in a glass with fresh water.
Storing these herbs in the refrigerator will cause the leaves to become soggy and bend over rapidly.
However, hard herbs such as rosemary, thyme, sage, and oregano can be wrapped in a paper towel and preserved in an airtight container in the refrigerator’s crisper drawer.

33. Dried spices

Dried spices and refrigerators should never even be in the same sentence. Unwanted moisture is sure to be on your “dried” spices each time you store them in your fridge.
To prolong shelf life, store your dried spices in a place that’s devoid of moisture and away from direct sunlight. They do not need the heat, and please do not leave them stored away for more than a year, though.

34. Jam

As long as your jam is well sealed inside a sterilized jar, it can be kept away from the refrigerator for as long as two years.
Once that jar is open for use, it should be stored inside the refrigerator to avoid mold development. However, always ensure you check the label on individual jam jars if you’re not sure.

35. Butter

Refrigerated butter is almost unspreadable, so you should opt for a covered dish or plate on a worktop for preserving your butter, preferably for a day or two.
The butter should be stored in a cooler place if you don’t want it to melt or develop an unpleasant odor.
Keep away from direct sunlight exposure during the summer season. However, if you don’t plan to use your butter for the next few days, you can store it in the fridge.

36. Eggs

Eggs are some of the foods you should never store in the refrigerator and may seem like a surprising entry on this list because you believe the fridge is the best storage location for your eggs.
In the US, the fridge is ideal for your eggs because they are sterilized and must be cooled to prevent them from returning to their previous state.
In Europe, your eggs should not be refrigerated. This is because they are not sterilized, and their shell is an effective barrier.Many of you gleefully make the mistake of keeping foods you should never store in the refrigerator out of habit or ignorance.
The household refrigerator seems the most likely place to keep foods fresh for a longer period.
However, certain ingredients aren’t just compatible with colder temperatures. This article lists foods you should never store in the refrigerator.
It also discusses certain foods that can only be kept in the refrigerator under certain conditions.

1. Garlic

Hi all, I'm a hearing learner, trying to get an understanding of how I would sign a phrase like "I'm so hungry I feel sick," or ones with similar English syntax. I've tried googling this, but you can imagine that searching "so that asl" mostly gets me results for people asking about how to sign "so" and "that," not this particular expression.
From what I've learned about ASL grammar so far, I can imagine that in many cases, you could just use emphasis and facial grammar and in terms of manual signs, it would end up just like "HUNGRY!, I FEEL SICK!" In English as well, if you just said "I'm sooooooo hungry, I feel sick!" the causal connection between the two phrases is understood, even if it's not stated explicitly. And of course, I could rephrase certain sentences to be more in the format of 'I'm sick, why? I'm so hungry!"
But, if there is some more explicit way to manually sign this type of causal connection, that specifically conveys the idea that 'something is [X] to such a degree/extent/extremity that [Y]', it would be helpful to know - even if I don't necessarily end up using it a lot day to day :)
Thanks in advance for any advice!

You’ve got an important project to work on and you know you’re going to have to keep focus for a long period of time in order to get it done. But you find after a short while that you’ve lost motivation and you’re getting distracted more easily.
You might think taking a break will only slow you down. But structured and restorative breaks are essential for maintaining high levels of productivity, creativity, and overall well-being.
They’re the secret weapon of first-class focusers.

You likely fall into one of these categories of bad breakers

Non-breakers: People who (think they) don't take any breaks at all. They claim to work eight to twelve hours straight. In reality, the majority of those hours are spent working at a leisurely, unfocused pace, where all sorts of interruptions and distractions steal their attention. It takes them eight hours to do what should’ve taken four.
Intensive workers: Those who work intensely and only break when they're completely fatigued. The last half of their work wasn't done with nearly the vigour that the first half was done with.
Long breakers: They take regular breaks, but they’re unstructured and filled with activities that deplete their cognitive resources rather than restore them. Their breaks usually go much longer than intended.

The necessity and magic of breaks

Working deeply requires a level of intensity that’s rooted in your ability to stay focused on the task at hand and keep distraction at bay.
This type of work is cognitively demanding. It requires greater resources than leisurely or shallow work does and can’t be maintained for long stretches at a time without those resources getting replenished.

"Refreshed work is orders of magnitude better than fatigued work." - Zoë Read-Bivens

Think of lifting weights at the gym. Your muscles can't support continuous strain for more than a couple minutes before they’re exhausted. This is why workouts are structured into reps and sets. You do a set of 10 reps, then take a break to allow your muscles to recover. When you start the next set you're able to complete another 10 reps or so.

When doing deep work sessions, I pretend I’m a professional athlete

When I take a break, it's like I'm in the locker room between quarters. I'm doing what's needed to restore my capabilities while staying away from those things that will harm them.
Athletes don't smoke in the locker room between quarters (anymore), and you shouldn't be doing modern-day equivalents like scrolling social media.

Before you start working, schedule breaks

The best way to avoid being a bad breaker is to set a timer. Work until the timer goes off then break for a set period of time. Repeat.
When I run deep work sessions with people, we’ll usually work for 30 minutes then take a 10-minute break. This will be repeated for four to six cycles.
By setting a timer, you're forced to take a break even if you think you don't need one. Often when I take a 10-minute break after the first 30 minutes, I don't feel like I need it. But I know that I've got five more 30-minute cycles to come, and by the time I'm done the third cycle my brain is starting to strain and the breaks are welcomed. And I'm in a better place for having taken the earlier breaks than if I had skipped them.
I keep my timer visible so I can see how much is left in the cycle (try your best not to use your phone as a timer as it'll just prove distracting). When there's two minutes left, I let everyone know so they can tie up loose ends and pause in a good place. Maybe they finish off the task or maybe they need to come back to it. Studies show pausing work is easier on the brain if done at a natural break point. It also makes it less cognitively demanding to pick up where you left off after the break.

What to do during your break

We tend to think breaks require the absence of activity in order to properly recharge. If you've worked to exhaustion, this may be true.
But a good break consists of engaging in things that energise and avoiding those that deplete energy. They’re restorative, not just recuperative.
Laying on the couch for 10 minutes scrolling social media and responding to messages doesn’t allow your cognitive resources to recharge.
Strive for mental rest
This means avoiding screens. Do not check your phone or scroll the internet. Do not look at any screens whatsoever.
Ideally you don't even talk to anyone.
Engage in analog-only activities
Simple tasks like folding the laundry or putting away the dishes can prove to be restorative.
Physical movement is the best analog activity
If you worked sitting down, ensure you're standing for most of the break. If you worked standing up, try to sit for at least half the break.
Move around. Walk, swing your arms, engage in some stretching and mobility.
State change
During break you'll want to keep your state in mind. Getting your heart rate up will help you tackle that next cycle after you're feeling cognitively drained. Some professional poker players will do wind sprints in the parking lot between games. They know that, like professional athletes, the state you're in will play a big role in how you perform once you're back in the game.
Avoid eating during breaks
Plan your deep work session so that you've eaten beforehand (ideally an hour or so before, and stay away from those carbs!).
Making something to eat during break usually takes longer than planned. And often, you don’t finish eating during the break and so continue eating as you resume working.
As well, introducing food into the system will divert some of your body's energy towards digesting it. Remember, the whole goal here is to restore physical and cognitive energy levels, not deplete them.
What’s your experience with breaks? Some have tried the Pomodoro Technique of scheduled breaks and found it didn’t work for them. If that’s you, I’m curious to hear why.

Hi there!
I coach Cross Country at the high school I teach at and am working on a summer plan for my team. I'm still a fairly new coach (a few years under my belt, but not nearly as many as a lot of coaches, obviously), so I'd love some feedback on the plan I put together.
The plan can be found here as a spreadsheet (you'll need to make a copy to edit it). My thought processes for everything were:

• For the most part, I told the kids that the most important thing to do this summer is simply be active. Run, play sports, etc., and focus on enjoying their youth. I don't expect them to follow this 100% of the time; but some of my athletes really like structured plans that tell them what to do each day, so I made this to help them.
  
• The athletes (and you, if you want to play with it) only need to type in the GREEN cells. The first cell is for a recent 2-Mile time, the second is how much you want to increase weekly mileage by each week, and the third is the weekly mileage they're comfortable aiming for during the first week.
  
• The mileage increases by 10% by default, but can be changed. I told my kids not to exceed 10% per week as a general rule. Every 4th week I have them running 25% less as a recovery week. I also told them very explicitly that if they feel too tired or sore to run, that taking a day off is totally fine. Also, if they're spending the day playing soccer, swimming at the beach, etc., that they can obviously take the day off of running. Some of my kids could probably handle it, but I have plenty of young athletes whose bodies would certainly fall apart!
  
• Most workouts are just aerobic runs. I don't expect them to be hitting the track each week or anything; just get out there and enjoy the summer (while running, of course). I added in a long run once every two weeks, along with 1-2 "harder" workouts each week. I wanted to keep these simple, so I did some research and found some other coaches who found success with Moderate, Tempo and Progression Runs, along with a couple VO2 intervals during the summer off-season.
  
• Distances are automatically calculated based off the weekly mileage for that week. Long Runs are 25%, Moderate Runs are 20%, and everything else just falls off of that. I have the Tempo/Intervals listed as time rather than distance: the intervals are 3 minutes in duration with a ~45-60 second recovery jog in between and the Tempo runs are 25-35 minutes in duration. The distances all include warm-up/cooldown, as well.
  
• Most of the paces I calculated using VO2 charts and the VDOT tables from Jack Daniels, based off the 2-Mile time as a VO2 Max pace. Easy Aerobic runs are at 77.5% effort, Long Runs at 75%, Moderate Runs at 82%, Tempo Runs at 92%, and the Intervals at 100%.
  

Let me know what you think and of any suggestions you might have. I will absolutely have athletes who take one look at this and never check it again, but I know I have some who want to work really hard this summer and finally start running 40-50 miles/week, so I'm hoping this helps in some way.
I'd also love color scheme suggestions because I feel like my color choices may be sub-par, but that's the least of my concerns haha. Thanks!

I've been mulling over the idea of a setting for a campaign setting I want to start writing that is intended to be pretty satirical and jokey but still able to be run straight as a fantasy setting, the kind of world where it almost seems self aware that it's intended to be a pastiche of fantasy tropes. The kind of world where the leading "Fighter's Guild" type organization operates under the name "Coin For Combatants" and a typical chapter house of 12 members has a collective Int score of 14, and are constantly at odds with the "Rats for Residential Recognition" group, a ratling organization, who see the CFC's routine extermination of rats in basements as possible hate crimes.
What I'm mainly looking for help in though is finding ways to present the pantheon of the setting. I want to keep it pretty small because it'd get even harder to work out what I want to do with them, but I need some help in thinking of ways to represent them and/or their domains with sort of nonstandard means, better if it's also in a slightly irreverent way. As an example, the archetypal "Evil God of Destruction" is not only immensely worshipped, but also widely accepted in all sorts of civilized places due to the loophole of their edicts being simple enough that routine destruction of objects of inconsequential value are a perfectly acceptable means of sacrificial worship. This has lead to the situation where the grand majority of worshippers of this 'god of destruction' are sanitation workers and garbagemen who collect and burn refuse as an act of worship, and it does successfully appease the deity. This doesn't mean it's all jokes however, there are still legitimate threat Destruction Cultists out there that threaten the lives of people, but by and large being a 'destruction cultist' isn't immediately taken as being dangerous or evil, but more like a title of station as a trash collector.
I have a small list of the archetypes I'm looking to fill, some general personality traits of the deities behind them and a line or two of something they'd be likely to say. I'd like to hear some people's thoughts so I can work out this list.
God of Light/Sun - vain, insecure; "Make sure you always have a light on in your home to remind yourself of me, okay?"
God of Dark/Moon - paranoid, obsessive; "Do you really need all these lights? Are you trying to get rid of me? You can't completely chase me out you know."
God of Destruction - simple-minded, extremely literal; "DESTROY AND BURN"
God of Craftsmen - envious, boastful, prone to plagiarism; "It's... not awful, but still not on par with my own creations. It'll have to do."
God of Love/Life - accidentally creepy/predatory(?), naive; "You should show her how much you love her by showing up at her bedroom window at night and making yourself known, she'll have to acknowledge your devotion then!"
God of Death - happy-go-lucky, extremely personable; "Hey! Welcome to Eternity, buddy! Everyone you used to know is here already, so come along when you're ready!"
God of the Harvest - depressive, dismissive; "I'm surprised more of your crops weren't destroyed by pests, but don't worry I'm sure they'll be ruined in storage, somehow."
God of Healing - hypochondriac, Munchausen syndrome; "Are you feeling well? You look a little pale to me, how's your bowels been? There's been an uptick in plague cases lately and it might sound counterintuitive because it's normally toxic, but if you take some adderleaf extract the fever you'll get should burn it out, than you just-"
God of Battle - bored, detached; "Hold the line, just secure the front and pepper them with arrows and spears. They'll break eventually, it's not like they have unlimited reinforcements, just keep at it."
Any additional ideas/deities not covered here would be nice too.

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.

My name is Lucy and I am from the UK. My sincere gratitude goes out to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for creating a prestigious affinity with Buddha for us.
Time flies, and it has been more than six years since I took part in Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door. On the way home through cultivating behavior, I have slowly transformed from an atheist to a layman monk at home. I have done this by practicing the four golden Buddhist practices of making vows, reciting Buddhist scriptures, releasing beings and reading the Buddhism in Plain Terms. In the past six years, I and my husband David have practiced together and have reaped joy, health, and success in life and work. We have practiced together as a couple, and we can't say enough about our spiritual experiences and deep insights.
In March 2019, for job reasons, our daughter, who lived in England, moved back to her hometown in Scotland. In order to let our granddaughter get acquainted with her relatives and friends here as soon as possible, we held a birthday party for her. On the day of her birthday party in June, nearly 20 relatives attended, most of whom our granddaughter met for the first time. I noticed that our granddaughter was very skilled at playing on the new trampoline. She was also getting along well with her cousins, and using her iPad to play games. Her fingers were dexterous and responsive, not like a child who just turned 2. However, she didn't talk much and occasionally spoke a word or two. I thought it might be because the child is still young and needs time to adjust to the new environment. David asked our daughter and son-in-law how our granddaughter's language skills were. They smiled and said they were looking forward to hearing the child speak a full sentence sooner rather than later.
When I was wondering, our daughter excitedly showed us photos of our granddaughter's growth, one of which was taken next to her great-grandmother's tombstone, which aroused my awareness and attention. Immediately, I was reminded of Master Lu's enlightenment that children should be at least 8 years old before participating in the tombsweeping ritual. Even children who are more than 8 years old, they should also be very cautious and recite the Great Compassion Mantra frequently. Maybe there really is karma or spirits preventing her from speaking.
On the way home, I talked to David about the idea of reciting the Little Houses* for the child (* A combination of 4 types of sutras and mantras. They are: the Great Compassion Mantra to be recited 27 times, the Heart Sutra to be recited 49 times, the Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra to be recited 84 times, and the Qi Fo Mie Zui Zhen Yan to be recited 87 times. After reciting those Buddhist scriptures, they are spotted on the Little House via a red marker pen. Once the karmic creditor's name is written in print on the right side of the yellow Little House, it is ready to repay the karmic creditor via burning it in front of the Buddhist altar). David told me not to worry, explaining that pediatricians generally agree that it is normal for babies to speak before the age of 3. He also said that late opening mouths do not mean intelligence is a problem. I said that prevention is the wise thing to do, so why don't we use Little Houses to help her eliminate her speech impediments? I myself wanted to verify the effectiveness of the Little Houses to help Western children ascend karmic creditors. My husband agreed.
When I returned home, I saw a rainbow appear in the window just as I entered the door. When I offered the evening incense at 8:00 p.m., I immediately made 2 vows: (1) to help our granddaughter's creditors with 49 Little Houses; (2) to help our granddaughter recite the Heart Sutra 7 times and the Gong De Bao Shan Shen Zhou 49 times every day from the day I made the vow until the child speaks. I prayed to Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Nanjing Bodhisattva to bless the child to eliminate the karmic obstacle of speaking and let her open her mouth to speak normally as soon as possible. Additionally, I hope she will learn Chinese one day and study Buddhism and recite Buddhist scriptures like her grandfather.
Based on Buddhist Q&A 114, "Questions about reciting Buddhist scriptures for small children," and Master Lu's relevant instructions in the Wenda, we can repay normal children under 5 with 3 Little Houses per week. I have been consistently repaying 3 Little Houses per week to her creditors since the second week of June.
In September 2019, when we visited the children at our daughter's house for the third time, she told us that just in late July or early August, our granddaughter spoke and was able to say some longer, more complete sentences. David and I looked at each other and smiled, knowing that this was the result of making vows and reciting Buddhist scriptures that worked. It is due to the blessing of the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva and the Nanjing Bodhisattva. I recalled that two years ago, by helping my daughter to recite the Great Compassion Mantra and the Gong De Bao Shan Shen Zhou, Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Nanjing Bodhisattva blessed the safe birth of our granddaughter, who likes vegetarian food and grows up healthy day by day. Two years later, more than 20 Little Houses helped her get rid of the language barrier and speak fluently. Gratitude to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Nanjing Bodhisattva for answering all my prayers. This truly verifies what Master Lu enlightened: Bodhisattva has no discriminating mind, saves the Chinese and Western people the same, reads the totems the same, and transcends the spirits the same. Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door is true and the Little House is unbelievably effective all over the world.
I am grateful to the Dharma! To the Bodhisattva! And to Master Lu! Through this experience, I have become more convinced of the effectiveness and excellence of Buddhism, more convinced of the boundless power of Guan Yin Bodhisattva. I have also fully verified that the dual practice of husband and wife can shelter a family for three generations. Westerners who study Buddhism and recite Buddhist scriptures can also be blessed and protected by Buddha and Bodhisattva.
Through my sharing today, I hope you will not doubt or hesitate anymore. I hope you will believe in Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, and Master Jun Hong Lu. Practicing Buddhism and reciting the sutras and mantras will definitely change your life and destiny, as well as your family's life and destiny. You will reap more blessings and merits!
Hence the saying:
Buddhism knows no borders, and compassion knows no distinction.
Buddhist scriptures are transmitted without hindrance, and can be learned in China and abroad.
Though different in color, the Buddha is the same in heart.
We couple can diligently practice together to achieve health and well-being.
My deepest gratitude to Namo Sakyamuni Buddha!
My deepest gratitude to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
My deepest gratitude to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from ten directions and three periods of time!
My deepest gratitude to the Dharma protectors!
My deepest gratitude to the selfless and altruistic Master Jun Hong Lu!
If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the truth in the presentation, I'd like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors, and Master Jun Hong Lu. I'd also like to seek forgiveness from my fellow Buddhist practitioners. I would appreciate my fellow practitioners' critique and correction!
I, not my fellow practitioners, will be responsible for my own karma!
Presenter: Dharma Practitioner Lucy, Gratitude and Namaste!
Translator: Frank
2020-12-29 Received
2021-01-19 Posted (CN)
2023-05-16 Posted (EN)
STATEMENT BY THE TRANSLATOR
The story was translated from Chinese into English by meaning, not word by word. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the true meaning of the Chinese version, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors and Master Jun Hong Lu.
PROPAGATION
Please kindly forward this presentation to those who are under sufferance from illness, and all sentient beings, if possible. You will accumulate immeasurable merits and virtues. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-floor pagoda！
WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHANGE YOUR DESTINY?
We will show you how to do the five golden Buddhist practices of Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door: (1) making vows, (2) reciting Buddhist scriptures (sutras and mantras), (3) performing life liberation, (4) reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and (5) repenting. You will personally witness how you and your family can achieve physical and mental stability, relief from illness and grievances, wisdom growth, academic progress, career advancement, and family happiness through Dharma.
For more information, please contact fellow practitioner: Lily
Email：sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
WeChat: HanJing20210820
原文如下：
佛法无国界（十一）：20多张经文组合，助外孙女开口说话
顶礼南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨！
顶礼十方三世一切诸佛菩萨及龙天护法金刚菩萨！
顶礼弘法度众舍身忘我的恩师慈父卢军宏台长！
大家好，我是Lucy露西。我分享的主题是：20多张经文组合，助外孙女开口说话
我叫Lucy，来自英国， 感恩观世音菩萨成就我们如此殊胜的佛缘。
光阴似箭，我走进心灵法门一晃六年多了。在修行“回家”的路上，通过运用许愿、念经、放生、读《白话佛法》四大法宝，自度度人，我从一名无神论者慢慢地蜕变为在家修行的居士。六年来，我们夫妻双修，携手努力，收获了喜悦，收获了健康，收获了生活和工作诸事顺利。我们夫妻二人比肩同修，灵验事例和殊胜感悟说不尽，道不完……
2019年3月因工作原因，原先在英格兰居住的女儿搬回了家乡苏格兰。为了让外孙女和这边的亲戚朋友尽快熟悉亲近起来，我们准备给她办一个生日Party。在６月份举行生日派对这一天，受邀前来参加Party的亲戚将近有20多位，外孙女和他们大多是第一次见面。聚会时，我发现外孙女非常熟练玩新蹦床，和表兄妹们相处也很融洽，也能熟练地使用Ipad玩游戏。她手指灵巧，反应敏捷，完全不像是刚刚满2岁的孩子，但就是不怎么开口说话，偶尔也会蹦出一两个单词。我想可能是孩子小，刚到新环境认生的缘故。先生戴维师兄问女儿女婿，外孙女语言表达能力怎样？他们笑着说，期盼着早些听到孩子说一句完整的句子。
正当我纳闷时，女儿兴致勃勃地给我们看外孙女成长的照片，其中有一张是孩子在太奶奶墓碑旁拍的，引起了我的警觉和重视。我马上联想到师父的开示：孩子至少8岁以上，才可以参加家族扫墓。8岁以上也要当心，要多念《大悲咒》。或许真的是有业障或灵性阻碍她开口说话呢。
在回家的路上，我和先生谈了想为孩子念经、念经文组合的想法。先生让我不用担心，说儿科医生都普遍认为：宝宝在3岁前开口说话，都是属于正常现象，晚开口并不代表智力有问题。我说应该预防为上，我们为什么不用经文组合帮助孩子消除说话的障碍呢？我自己也想验证一下经文组合帮助西方小孩超度要经者的效果。先生表示赞同。
回到家里，刚一进门，我就看见窗口出现了彩虹。晚上8点上晚香时，我立刻许愿：１、帮外孙女的要经者烧送49张经文组合；２、从许愿当天开始，每天帮外孙女念7遍《心经》，49遍《功德宝山神咒》，一直念到孩子开口说话为止。祈求观世音菩萨和南京菩萨保佑孩子消除说话的业障，尽早开口正常说话。希望她有一天也能学中文，像她外公一样学佛念经。
按照佛学问答114《关于为小孩子念经的问题》，以及师父在玄艺问答中的相关开示：5岁以下的正常孩子，每周可烧送约3张经文组合，我从6月份的第二周开始，每周坚持给孩子的要经者烧送3张经文组合。
2019年9月，当我们第三次去女儿家看望孩子们时，女儿告诉我们，就在7月底或8月初，外孙女开口说话了，而且还能说一些比较完整的长句。我和先生相视一笑，知道这是许愿、念经有效果了，是大慈大悲观世音菩萨和南京菩萨加持所致。回想起两年前，我通过为女儿助念《大悲咒》和《功德宝山神咒》，观世音菩萨和南京菩萨保佑外孙女平安出生，喜欢吃素的她一天天健康成长。两年后，20多张经文组合，使外孙女摆脱语言障碍，流利地开口说话，感恩大慈大悲观世音菩萨和南京菩萨有求必应。这真正验证了师父所说的：菩萨没有分别心，中西方人一样救度，一样看图腾，一样超度。心灵法门真实不虚，经文组合灵验无比。
感恩佛法！感恩菩萨！感恩师父！通过这件事，让我更加坚信佛法的灵验与殊胜，更加坚信观世音菩萨法力无边，也充分验证了夫妻双修能庇荫一家三代。西人学佛念经，同样能得到佛菩萨的加持和庇荫。
通过我今天的分享，希望您不要再怀疑，也不要再犹豫，相信观世音菩萨的心灵法门，相信恩师卢军宏台长。学佛念经一定能改变您，以及您家人的生活和命运，并收获更多的福报功德！
正所谓：
佛法无国界，慈悲无分别，
经文无碍传，中外皆可学，
肤色虽不同，心中佛同源，
夫妻共精进，身心得康健。
再次感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨，感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨及龙天护法金刚菩萨！感恩弘法度众舍身忘我的恩师慈父卢军宏台长！
如果在分享过程当中有不如理不如法之处，祈请大慈大悲观世音菩萨慈悲原谅！请十方三世诸佛菩萨和龙天护法菩萨慈悲原谅！请恩师慈父慈悲原谅！请师兄们批评指正！我自己的业自己背，不让师父背，不让师兄们背！
分享人：Lucy露西 感恩合十
2020-12-29 收到
2021-01-19 发布
来自：佛学基础知识问答博客

您想改变命运吗？
我们手把手传授您观世音菩萨的心灵法门五大法宝：“许愿”、“放生”、“念经”、“读《白话佛法》、大忏悔”。您将亲自见证如何通过佛法让自己及家人获得身心安定、病苦解除、冤结化解、智慧增长、学业进步、事业提升、家庭幸福。免费学习，免费结缘。
欢迎联络Lily佛友：sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
或者加Lily佛友微信：HanJing20210820
Disclaimer of Liability:
The contents of the presentation and answers, including text, images, and other information obtained from Dharma practitioners, are provided strictly for reference purposes. Due to the unique nature of individual karma, results similar to those experienced by the authors may not be replicated. The experiences and advice shared should not be construed as medical advice or a diagnosis.
In the event of an emergency, it is crucial to promptly contact your doctor or emergency services by dialing 911. Relying on any information found in the answers is done solely at your own risk. The translator and answerer bear no responsibility for the consequences. By using or misusing the contents, you accept liability for any personal injury, including death. It is imperative to exercise caution and seek professional medical guidance for health-related concerns.

i’m terrified of myself
I just lost my online friend because of my narcissistic traits.
I didn’t even know what a narcissist was until now, but as I read more about it, I kept ticking off more boxes, and it scared me. The only thing I didn’t check off was empathy, which terrifies me because I don’t know if I’m truly empathetic or just pretending.
I've always been the jealous, obsessive type, likely stemming from abandonment insecurities and the need to feel validated.
I won’t go into much detail about how I lost my friend, but it was fully deserved. I was manipulative and controlling, always playing mind games and bringing her down when I should have been adding positivity to her life. I thought I was just being childish or immature, but reading back through our texts now disgusts me. How did I not notice these ugly traits before?
When our relationship started, it was great. She didn’t have any friends and had dropped out of high school, so I helped her finish her GED and reconnect with friends she had ghosted due to depression.
My traits only seemed to manifest when we started liking each other and planned on meeting. Why did this happen when I started liking her? If she had a boyfriend or a solid group of friends, I definitely wouldn’t have been like this. Is it because she was vulnerable?
I'm terrified of myself.
One of the last things she told me was, "I’m tired of always feeling like the bad guy." Even until the end of our friendship, she cared about me, but the stress was too much.
I know the friendship is over. I need to let her go and work on myself. I just wish I had addressed these problems before losing probably the closest person to me.
The worst part is that it’s 100 percent my fault. She gave me so many chances, and the more she got to know me, the more my toxic traits began to show. Yet, she kept ignoring them for almost two years...probably hoping i would change…
has anyone been in a similar situation?
could really use advice besides go to therapy , which i plan to do this year..
should i even reach out to her once im “better”?
i feel so conflicted

Just last summer, I'd found myself mired in a creative purgatory. I’d been working on a novel - a sci-fi thriller about time-traveling librarians. I had my characters, my plot, and a decent brew of coffee, but somehow, I was stuck. I had a million ideas, but I wasn't sure how to move forward. I was entombed in the sarcophagus of indecision (and a little too much caffeine).
Enter my savior, my knight in shining spreadsheet - the decision matrix. Now, if you're picturing Neo from The Matrix, well, you're not that far off. The decision matrix, or Pugh matrix as it's sometimes known, is straight-up mathematical kung fu for your mind. It’s a tool that lets you break down complex decisions and systematically evaluate solutions.
So there I was, surrounded by sticky notes, each one a possible plot twist, character arc, or slam-bang finale. I wrote down all my potential ideas and then listed my criteria - logical flow, character development, thrill factor, how much I could weave into the current storyline, and yes, even the “wow” factor because who doesn't want a wow, right?
I then quantified each idea against my criteria using a simple rating scale. Here's the magic - it forced me to think critically about each idea, weighing its pros and cons. Suddenly, every aspect became clear, and I could see the path forward from my creative crossroads.
With my decision matrix at my side, I was a maestro conducting a symphony orchestra, each idea an instrument playing its part, contributing to a beautiful harmony. Rather than being weighed down by my ideas, I was uplifted. And the best part? My novel started to flow again. I was back, baby!
So, if you ever find yourself lost in a sea of ideas, pull out your oars - the humble decision matrix. It’s not just for business managers or engineers; it's for anyone who needs to make sense of complexity - especially creatives.
P.S. This is, of course, a hypothetical story, an exercise in mental gymnastics, if you will. There is no novel about time-traveling librarians (yet). But hey, who knows what you could do with a decision matrix in hand? So go on, embrace your inner Neo. Break out that spreadsheet and show creativity who's boss.

I honestly feel like the AoT fandom has died lately, where are all the fans at? Seriously lol I haven’t heard anyone mention it in forever. But I’m still here! I’d love to do an AoT roleplay with somebody. The story is beautiful, even if it is quite gruesome and sad. There are still aspects that still shine out, one of the main reasons as to why it’ll always hold the place of favorite anime in my heart.
To start things off, a small introduction on my part. You can call me Hina or Hinata and I’m from Japan. I’m currently in the GMT+1 timezone temporarily for vacation but I usually am in the PST timezone. I’m mentioning this because sometimes time zones can matter or change the roleplay/roleplay friendships. I don’t mind what timezone you’re in, honestly, as long as we can talk things out without a longggg pause. I have been writing since I was 9 when I joined a writing campaign and a story competition held by my school which sparked the writeroleplayer in me and I am currently 22 years old. To finish my introduction off, I am someone who listens to goth music/vkei (i LOVE plastic tree. i’m so happy to see they got some of their popularity back on tiktok), I like to play and watch basketball, I watch anime and I am currently rewatching bluelock as a refresher, and.. I also play many video games.
Now onto things I’m looking for roleplay-wise. I mentioned something about Attack on Titan but I didn’t talk about anything really specific. That’s the thing. I don’t mind what story we do. It could be something modern AU with the original characters, another story of Mikasa and Eren, maybe even an OC with one of the characters in a more modern setting. It could also be something done in the original timeline. Going through the events of becoming a scout and the rumbling as two other oc’s or one OC and one original character. I’m honestly down for anything! Just hit me with it.
CHARACTERS
I tend to use character sheets to describe my character, these usually consist of names, background, and personality. More so on appearances, I prefer using animated or drawn references than real life people. I enjoy good enough references where I get the idea of how the character would look like.
The types of characters I write are either the lone wolf type that has some sad past which leads them to want to join someone for a redemption arc or the bubbly character who is the one that brings the mood up and is usually seen as trustworthy and of that kind.
I like all types of tropes, especially enemies to lovers or rivalry. I also really enjoy opposites attract as a whole from either opposite personality or something else they would be opposites in. Enemies to lovers takes my heart, though. I love seeing the characters go past the urge to ultimately hate each other and/or go past their usual way of disliking the others lineage or upcoming.
REQUIREMENT
I think this is my last paragraph on the roleplay. It’s the most important, at least. Requirements. All roleplay searches come with them. Or at least that’s what I heard! But don’t fret, there isn’t much.
I’ve seen this as one of the most used requirements, and I agree with it. As someone who’s first language wasn’t English, I understand that you may not be great at it. But please, I do require a partner that at least has proper use of grammar and punctuation. You don’t even have to use big words or anything, just at least know where to put your periods and the placement of your words.
My second requirement is for you to be LITERATE! Please. I’m a big writer, I tend to ramble on and tend to write more than what I thought I would. (like i’m doing right now) I write multiple paragraphs from the starter until the scene relaxes. I also understand that sometimes writing big blocks of words every response is tiring or boring so I don’t expect it all the time, at least after the starter has been made and in more important scenes. Dialogue also cuts my replies shorter.
Please please please be polite in OOC! We may just be role playing together but kindness goes all ways. If we do include OOC, I enjoy talking about many things. My day, movies, games, funny moments and stories, all of that!
I think that’s the end to this wonderful journey of an ad about my search. I hope you are still here, fellow writer! I would LOVE it if you reached out to me! This wasn’t all for nothing, right!
But don’t leave yet! I do have a passcode. I know this was a jumble of words and rambling but I still have to put one in. I heard that there’s a lot of people on here that don’t read things fully and miss out on rules or information! But.. Just because you read through this all, I’ll gladly give you options on the passcode! Also please put in an introduction of yourself! Don’t think “Oh maybe I shouldn’t bother this person with too much to read”! I like seeing big blocks.
PASSCODE:
What’s your dream country to travel to and why?
OR
Who’s your favorite TV show / Cartoon / Game / Anime character?
Feel free to pick both! Now, that’s all from me. Please don’t put your request as just “Wanna rp”!

• H 💕

i’m terrified of myself
I just lost my online friend because of my narcissistic traits.
We were planning on meeting..
I didn’t even know what a narcissist was until now, but as I read more about it, I kept ticking off more boxes, and it scared me. The only thing I didn’t check off was empathy, which terrifies me because I don’t know if I’m truly empathetic or just pretending.
I've always been the jealous, obsessive type, likely stemming from abandonment insecurities and the need to feel validated.
I won’t go into much detail about how I lost my friend, but it was fully deserved. I was manipulative and controlling, always playing mind games and bringing her down when I should have been adding positivity to her life. I thought I was just being childish or immature, but reading back through our texts now disgusts me. How did I not notice these ugly traits before?
When our relationship started, it was great. She didn’t have any friends and had dropped out of high school, so I helped her finish her GED and reconnect with friends she had ghosted due to depression.
My traits only seemed to manifest when we started liking each other and planned on meeting. Why did this happen when I started liking her? If she had a boyfriend or a solid group of friends, I definitely wouldn’t have been like this. Is it because she was vulnerable?
I'm terrified of myself.
One of the last things she told me was, "I’m tired of always feeling like the bad guy." Even until the end of our friendship, she cared about me, but the stress was too much.
I know the friendship is over. I need to let her go and work on myself. I just wish I had addressed these problems before losing probably the closest person to me.
The worst part is that it’s 100 percent my fault. She gave me so many chances, and the more she got to know me, the more my toxic traits began to show. Yet, she kept ignoring them for almost two years...probably hoping i would change…
has anyone been in a similar situation?
could really use advice besides go to therapy , which i plan to do this year..
should i even reach out to her once im “better”?
i feel so conflicted

Moments later, a voice crackled over the train's intercom, announcing, "Arriving at year 1604 Tokyo."
As the train announcement echoed through the car, Sparks’ optical sensors shifted into advanced detection mode. A thin, translucent visor slid over his eyes, emitting a faint hum as it activated the holographic spectrum analyzer. The air around them seemed to shimmer and warp, and a ghostly grid overlay appeared in Jack’s vision, scanning the surroundings with an eerie, futuristic precision.
Sparks detected a group of five figures moving stealthily through the train. Their forms were shrouded in a cloak of darkness, their outlines barely visible through the shifting shadows that enveloped them. Each figure wore a sleek, black jacket, the word “Corp” emblazoned in a ghostly glow on their backs. Their presence radiated an air of malevolence, and the very atmosphere seemed to grow colder as they approached.
The shadowy figures were an unsettling mix of mystery and menace. One figure flickered in and out of visibility, its form seemingly tethered to another plane of existence. Another emitted a low, continuous hum, the air around it is crackling with electrical energy. A third figure was cloaked in a dense, dark mist that seemed to swallow any light that touched it, rendering it a walking void. The fourth figure had an unsettling stillness, its form outlined in shadow but devoid of any discernible features. The fifth figure moved with a mechanical precision, its every step a calculated, almost robotic motion.
Jack felt a chill run down his spine, a knot of fear tightening in his stomach as he watched the ominous figures move with purpose towards their car. Their silent, coordinated approach was as unnerving as it was menacing, and Jack’s mind raced with questions and dread.
“Sparks, who are those guys?” Jack whispered, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of the train and the murmurs of its eclectic passengers.
Sparks’ visor retracted with a soft click, and he beeped urgently, his voice tinged with urgency and concern. “Looks like we’re in for an unplanned detour, Jack! Time to make like a leaf and get out of here!”
Jack frowned, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Detour? But we’re on a time-traveling train, Sparks. How can there be detours?”
Sparks’ circuits buzzed with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Trust me, Jack, this is no ordinary detour. Those guys are trouble, and we don’t want to stick around to find out what they’re planning. I’ve got a craving for some Keicho Koban gold coins, and they’re like candy for me!”
“My circuits are practically tingling with anticipation,” Sparks added, his voice taking on a wistful tone. “I can practically taste that sweet, sweet gold!”
Jack chuckled despite the tension, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “But you’re a robot, Sparks. Shouldn’t you be watching your curves?”
Sparks replied with mock indignation, his Holographic eyes flashing playfully. “Hey now, just because I’m wired for data doesn’t mean I can’t drool over shiny treasures! Besides, who needs curves when you’ve got gold coins? It’s all about that clinking and jingling, baby!”
Jack rolled his eyes, unable to stifle a grin. “Alright, Sparks, you win. Let’s go satisfy that craving of yours before you short-circuit from all the excitement!”
With a shared laugh, Jack and Sparks made their way towards the back of the train car, their movements a hurried blend of urgency and adventure. As they moved, the shadowy figures continued their silent, ominous approach, their presence casting a long, dark shadow over the train car.
They fumbled with the latch on the back of the train car, their fingers trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. Just as they managed to pry it open, a sudden jolt sent them tumbling out into the open air. Gravity grabbed hold of them, pulling them down faster than they could process.
As they plummeted through the sky, Sparks let out a mechanical chirp, “Well, Jack, looks like we’re taking the express route to ground level! Hold on tight and try not to scream like a teapot!”
Jack clung to Sparks tightly, his heart pounding in his chest as they navigated the treacherous descent. They narrowly avoided crashing into a medieval knight on horseback and dodged a futuristic hovercraft whizzing by, the chaotic scene adding to the adrenaline-fueled madness of their fall.
Jack’s eyes widened in alarm as he spotted a swarm of small AI bots in pursuit, their metallic wings buzzing furiously. Each bot had a unique design, resembling miniature dragons with glowing eyes and iridescent wings that shimmered in the sunlight. Their mechanical screeches pierced through the air as they closed in on Jack and Sparks, their intent clear and menacing.
With the AI bots hot on their heels, Jack and Sparks darted between skyscrapers and weaved through narrow alleyways, narrowly avoiding obstacles as they hurtled towards the ground. The wind whipped past them, a deafening roar that drowned out all other sounds.
Sparks beeped confidently, his circuits buzzing with excitement. “Just leave it to me, Jack! I’ve got a few tricks up my circuits...”
Suddenly, Jack’s eyes widened as Sparks’ chest opened, revealing a sophisticated array of futuristic gadgets. With a flick of his wrist, Sparks deployed a holographic decoy, a shimmering duplicate of themselves that veered off in another direction, drawing the attention of the pursuing AI bots.
Jack’s heart raced as he watched the decoy in action, the hologram flickering and shifting with an almost lifelike fluidity. The AI bots, momentarily fooled by the ruse, followed the decoy, their metallic wings buzzing with furious intensity.
Sparks turned to Jack with a triumphant grin. “That should keep them busy for a while! Now, let’s get out of here before they catch on.”
Jack nodded, his breath coming in short, adrenaline-fueled bursts. They continued their descent, the ground rushing up to meet them with terrifying speed. Just as it seemed they were about to crash, Sparks activated a gravity dampener, slowing their fall to a gentle glide.
As they touched down, Jack’s legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the ground, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. Sparks hovered beside him, his Holographic eyes twinkling with amusement and pride.
“You know, Jack, it’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about losing consciousness. Infinite power cells, remember? I’d never hear the end of it from my fellow robots if I fainted like a human.”
Jack mustered a weak smile, trying to shake off the dizziness. “Lucky you, Sparks. Always one step ahead, huh?”
As Jack’s consciousness gradually returned, he found himself nestled within the confines of a traditional Japanese Machiya, characteristic of the bustling streets of old Edo. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of paper lanterns, casting gentle shadows on the tatami mat flooring below.
The interior of the Machiya exuded an aura of serene simplicity, with sliding shoji screens allowing shafts of sunlight to filter through, painting delicate patterns on the wooden floor. In the corner, a tokonoma adorned with seasonal flowers and a delicate scroll painting provided a touch of artistic elegance.
Through the open shoji screens, Jack caught glimpses of the lively neighborhood outside—the narrow alleys lined with Machiya, each bearing its own unique character. Vendors called out their wares, the aroma of freshly cooked street food drifting through the air and mingling with the sweet scent of cherry blossoms.
Despite the unfamiliar surroundings, there was a sense of tranquility within the Machiya, a feeling of being transported to a bygone era steeped in tradition and history. As Jack took in his surroundings, he marveled at the beauty and simplicity of life in this vibrant corner of old Edo, eager to uncover the secrets that lay beyond its paper walls.
Amidst the tranquil atmosphere, Jack noticed the presence of Tenshi, the family's majestic Black Kite, perched on a wooden stand in one corner. It was Tenshi who had alerted the family to Jack and Sparks' presence atop the cherry tree, which led to their rescue. Tenshi's sharp eyes fixated on Jack and Sparks, assessing their presence with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, reminiscent of the moment they were discovered by the bird perched atop the cherry tree.
Jack’s eyes widened with wonder as he looked at Tenshi. “Hey, Sparks, do you think he’s gonna tell on us?”
Sparks emitted a series of mechanical chirps, his Holographic eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well, Jack, he might be thinking we’re aliens from outer space trying to invade his kingdom!”
Jack giggled at the idea, his imagination running wild. “Maybe he’s the guardian of the treasure we’re looking for!”
Sparks let out a burst of mechanical laughter, his metallic voice filled with amusement. “Well, in that case, we better make friends with him quick! Who knows, maybe he’ll show us where the gold coins are hidden!”
Tenshi let out a low caw, as if in agreement, before spreading his wings and soaring gracefully across the room, adding a touch of majestic elegance to the scene. Jack watched in awe, his excitement bubbling over as he realized that their adventure in old Edo was only just beginning.
Jack turned to Sparks with a grin. “Well, Sparks, it looks like we’ve got ourselves a feathered sidekick!”
Sparks nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, Jack! With Tenshi by our side, we’ll be unstoppable! Who knows, maybe he’ll even teach us a trick or two about flying!”
Jack’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yeah!
And maybe we can teach him some robot dance moves!”
Sparks emitted a series of beeps, his Holographic eyes flashing with amusement. “Now that’s something I’d love to see! But for now, let’s focus on finding those gold coins! My circuits are practically drooling with excitement! Oooo yummy, yummy candy, here we come!”
Jack noticed some tea, a bowl of cherries, and a set of traditional Japanese clothing beside him. He shot a glance at Sparks, who was busy engaging with the Japanese family in their native tongue. Jack’s eyes widened in amusement as Sparks delivered a witty quip, “Sorry, Jack, but I’ll have to pass on the cherries. Fruit ninja-ing isn’t exactly in my repertoire. Can’t risk getting cherry juice on these sleek robot circuits, you know? I’ll stick to my usual data packets and quantum mechanics, thank you very much!”
Jack and Sparks exchanged a grin as they made friends with Tenshi, the Black Kite. The moment was brief and filled with a fleeting sense of calm before the storm that was about to break.
Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as the rhythmic thudding of approaching footsteps echoed through the Machiya. The wooden floor trembled under the force, the sound growing louder and more ominous with each passing second.
Jack's heart raced, and he looked to Sparks with a mixture of fear and determination. Sparks' advanced sensors flickered to life, projecting a holographic map of their surroundings. The red blips of hostile figures were moving steadily towards them, their intent unmistakable.
"We've got company, Jack. And they're not here for tea and cherry blossoms," Sparks said, his tone deadly serious.
The mother and child exchanged terrified glances, their eyes wide with fear. Sparks quickly switched to fluent Japanese, his voice urgent. "Hayaku, kakurete! Bushi ga chikazuiteimasu! (Quickly, hide! Samurai are approaching!)"
The mother nodded frantically and led them to a hidden latch beneath the tatami mat. The latch creaked open, revealing a dark, cramped space just big enough for them to squeeze into.
"Get in, Jack! And don’t make a sound!" Sparks urged, his holographic sensors scanning the area above for any sign of the approaching danger.
As they slipped into the narrow crawlspace, the heavy footsteps of the samurai grew louder, echoing like the march of death above them. Jack pressed himself against the cold ground, the scent of damp earth filling his nostrils as he tried to steady his breathing.
Above, the floorboards creaked and groaned under the weight of the intruders. Sparks dimmed his holographic display, casting faint, ghostly glows in the darkness. The sound of unsheathing swords sliced through the air, the metallic hiss sending chills down Jack's spine.
"Shush, Jack. Don’t say a word," Sparks whispered, his voice a low, almost inaudible hum.
The air was thick with tension, every creak of the floorboards making Jack's heart skip a beat. He could hear the rustle of the samurai’s clothing, the clinking of their armor as they moved methodically through the house, searching for any sign of life.
Suddenly, a loud crash reverberated from outside, followed by frantic shouts and the clash of metal on metal. The samurai hesitated, their attention diverted by the chaos erupting outside. The sound of swords clashing and desperate cries filled the air, creating a symphony of conflict that sent shivers down Jack’s spine.
Above them, the samurai exchanged hurried whispers, their voices tense and filled with urgency. The shadows shifted, and Jack could see the faint outline of a samurai’s hand reaching towards the latch. His breath caught in his throat as the latch began to creak open, the dim light casting eerie shadows on the ground below.
Just as the latch was about to lift, a blinding flash of light and a deafening explosion shook the ground. The house trembled, dust and debris falling from above as the world seemed to collapse around them. The noise was overwhelming, a cacophony of destruction that drowned out everything else.
Jack felt Sparks' hand grab his, pulling him through the narrow passage. They stumbled through the darkness, the ground shaking beneath their feet as the sound of the samurai’s footsteps grew fainter behind them. The air was thick with dust and the acrid smell of smoke, the world above them collapsing into chaos.
As they burst out of the tunnel into the open air, the cold night wind hit them like a shock, the taste of freedom mingling with the fear of the unknown. They had escaped, but the sense of danger loomed heavily over them, the thrill of their narrow escape still pounding in their ears.
Sparks' sensors scanned the surrounding forest, his voice tense. "We’re not safe yet, Jack. We need to keep moving."
Jack’s breath came in short, panicked bursts as he looked back towards the collapsed Machiya. The moonlight cast eerie shadows on the twisted remains of the house, the silhouette of the samurai still visible against the darkened sky. Their swords glinted ominously, a silent promise of the danger that still lay ahead.
Jack’s breath came in short, panicked bursts as he looked back towards the collapsed Machiya. The moonlight cast eerie shadows on the twisted remains of the house, the silhouette of the samurai still visible against the darkened sky. Their swords glinted ominously, a silent promise of the danger that still lay ahead.
The night was still and silent, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Jack's heart pounded in his chest as he and Sparks moved deeper into the shadows, the sense of danger growing with each step.
And then, just as they reached the edge of the forest, a new sound pierced the night air—a low, guttural growl that sent shivers down Jack's spine. He turned to Sparks, his eyes wide with fear.
"Sparks, what was that?" Jack whispered, his voice trembling.
Sparks' sensors beeped urgently as he scanned the darkness. "I'm not sure, Jack. But whatever it is, it's getting closer."
The growl grew louder, the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the trees. Jack's heart raced as he and Sparks slipped deeper into the shadows, their breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
As the growl reached a fever pitch, the air around them shimmered, and the ground beneath their feet began to tremble. Jack's eyes widened in fear as a pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the darkness, followed by the outline of a massive, menacing figure.
And then, just as the figure stepped into the light, the world exploded in a blinding flash of light, and everything went dark.

Chapter 1: The Unfolding of Lost Whispers

In the vast, unfathomable expanse of the universe, where galaxies swirl in a delicate cosmic dance and stars glimmer like tiny beacons in the dark, the infinite complexities of the cosmos stretch beyond comprehension. Amid these wonders, on a small, blue planet orbiting a modest star, unfolds a story both small and significant. A tale of a young boy named Jack, whose world, though minute in the grand scheme of things, carries the weight of the universe in his tender heart.
As the focus narrows from the cosmos, past the swirling arms of the Milky Way, and through the atmospheric layers of Earth, it zooms in on a bustling city on the North American continent, a city of great winds and even greater ambitions. The streets hum with the upbeat rhythms of soul music, and advertisements for new episodes of “Happy Days” and “The Six Million Dollar Man” flicker from television screens in shop windows. The scent of hot dogs and fresh popcorn wafts from vendors stationed along the sidewalks, mixing with the brisk, cold air. Overhead, the roar of an elevated train briefly disrupts the calm, a reminder of the intricate network of steel that defines the city's skyline.
Snow blankets the ground, a pristine layer that muffles the usual city sounds and reflects the twinkling lights strung across the streets and buildings. The sidewalks are bustling with people bundled up in thick coats and scarves, their breath visible in the frosty air. A towering figure of a beloved fictional character, the "Man with a Yellow Hat," adorns the window of a famous department store on State Street, while the majestic lions in front of the Art Institute wear festive wreaths around their necks.
Zooming in further, the focus shifts to a neighborhood of classic brick houses and narrow alleyways, where homes stand adorned with glowing Christmas decorations. Each house boasts its own unique charm, with wreaths on doors and flickering lights outlining rooftops, casting a warm, inviting glow into the frigid night.
One house, in particular, stands out, its red-brick facade adorned with a simple string of colored lights that flicker cheerfully in the cold. The house exudes warmth, a sense of comfort amidst the snow-covered streets. The scene moves closer, peering through the frosted window of a small room where a young boy’s life unfolds.
Jack’s room is a vivid sanctuary, painted in shades of deep blue and adorned with stars and planets that glow softly in the dark. Model airplanes hang from the ceiling, suspended in mid-flight among a fleet of handmade paper rockets. His shelves are a testament to his love of science fiction, crammed with books like "The Adventures of Tintin" and "A Wrinkle in Time," alongside colorful action figures of astronauts and aliens.
Jack’s bed, a twin with a wooden frame, is covered with a blanket featuring a rocket ship blasting off into the cosmos, stars trailing behind it. At the foot of the bed sits his favorite plush toy, a well-worn astronaut bear, its once-bright suit now faded from countless adventures. The nightstand beside his bed holds a lava lamp that casts an eerie, mesmerizing glow across the room, next to a stack of comics and a small flashlight for late-night reading.
The floor is scattered with the remnants of recent play—an open box of Lincoln Logs, a sprawling collection of Hot Wheels cars, and a nearly completed jigsaw puzzle of the solar system. A colorful mobile of the planets hangs above his head, swaying gently, and his walls are adorned with posters of spaceships and far-off galaxies.
Despite the warmth and security of his room, Jack feels a weight in his chest as he is called to join the family at the dinner table. The dining room is a cozy haven, bathed in the warm glow of a chandelier. The table is adorned with a red and gold cloth, glistening under the light. A Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, its branches heavy with ornaments and lights that cast a festive glow across the room.
Grandma, her hair neatly curled and wearing a stylish plaid dress, sits at the head of the table, her eyes sparkling behind her cat-eye glasses. Grandpa, sporting a red sweater and a neatly combed mustache, carves the turkey with practiced ease, his face a picture of contentment. Both retired scientists, they bring a wealth of knowledge and curiosity into the home. Grandma, a former theoretical physicist specializing in string theory, and Grandpa, an astrophysicist, now use their pensions to support Jack and his mom.
Jack’s mom, in a floral dress that flares at the knees, passes around the mashed potatoes and green beans, her laughter bright and infectious. The conversation flows easily, a mixture of laughter and stories, seasoned with the distinctive Chicago accent that gives their words a familiar warmth.
Despite the house’s modest size, the family makes the most of their space. The table is snugly surrounded by chairs, each one occupied by a loved one, making the room feel full and alive. The smallness of the house only enhances the sense of togetherness, each person contributing to the warm, festive atmosphere.
Before dinner, they all bow their heads in prayer, a moment of quiet reflection and gratitude amidst the bustling celebration. The silence is broken only by the gentle flicker of candlelight and the soft hum of the old radio in the corner, playing a news bulletin about the latest political events—a hostage crisis, debates over energy policy, and the ongoing discussions about a potential peace treaty.
“Can we turn that off?” Grandpa asks, his voice cutting through the room. “I’ve heard enough about politics for one day.”
Mom reaches over and flicks the switch, silencing the news and returning the room to its warm, festive atmosphere.
Jack sits at the table, feeling small and out of place. He fidgets with his napkin, his mind wandering to far-off worlds and epic adventures. He thinks of Tintin, the brave boy reporter, and how he would face this dinner table with courage, even if he felt as nervous as Jack does now. His thoughts drift to the latest Tintin book he read, imagining himself alongside Tintin and his faithful dog, Snowy, exploring ancient ruins and uncovering hidden treasures. In his mind’s eye, the room fades away, replaced by the vast, alien landscapes of “A Wrinkle in Time,” where Jack, Tintin, and his imaginary astronaut sidekick, Astro, race through time and space, battling dark forces and saving the universe from impending doom.
“Jack, how did you like the play at the community center?” Grandma’s voice cuts through his daydreams.
He hesitates, thinking of what Tintin might say in a moment of uncertainty. “It was… an adventure, just like in my books,” he says, his voice a bit shaky but full of a quiet resolve. In his mind, he imagines Tintin nodding approvingly, while Astro gives him a thumbs-up from the cockpit of their spaceship.
“Good to hear,” Grandpa says with a smile. “You know, your mom and I used to watch plays there too, back when we were younger. But that was a long time ago.”
Jack forces a smile, his eyes drifting to the family photos that adorn the walls. One photo, in particular, captures his attention—a picture of his dad, Dan, holding him as a baby, their smiles frozen in time. The mention of his dad, however, seems to hang in the air, unacknowledged by everyone but him. It’s as if a shadow passes over the room, a ghost of a memory that everyone but Jack seems to have forgotten.
“How’s school, Jack?” Mom asks, her voice bright and cheerful. “Are you still working on that science project about the planets?”
Jack nods, a lump forming in his throat. “Yes, Mom. I finished it yesterday. I think Dad would have liked it.” He thinks of Astro, his ever-loyal sidekick, who would understand the importance of such a project, their spaceship hurtling through the vast unknown, mapping distant stars and planets.
Mom’s smile falters for a moment, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” she says, quickly moving the conversation forward. “Grandma made your favorite dessert tonight, apple pie. You’ll love it!”
Jack looks down at his plate, his small hands trembling slightly. It feels as if the memory of his dad has been wiped from everyone’s minds, leaving Jack to bear the weight of it alone. He thinks of Tintin again, how he would bravely face even the most difficult challenges. “Dad always liked apple pie,” Jack says quietly, hoping to keep his father’s memory alive, even in this small way. A deep ache settles in his chest, a hollow feeling that no amount of food or laughter seems able to fill.
“Do you remember when Dan used to carve the turkey?” Grandma says suddenly, her eyes lighting up. “He had such a steady hand.”
Grandpa nods, though there’s a distant look in his eyes. “You know, it’s strange,” he says slowly, as if searching his memory. “Sometimes, I can’t quite recall what he was like. It’s almost like those memories are slipping away.”
Mom shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “I know what you mean. It’s so odd, isn’t it? I barely remember his laugh, or the way he used to smile. It’s like the memories of him are fading, almost as if they’re being erased.”
Jack feels a surge of frustration and sadness. How could they forget? How could they talk about his dad as if he were a shadow, a fleeting whisper in their minds? “But Dad loved Christmas,” Jack says, his voice trembling
“He always made it so special.” A tear slips down his cheek, and he quickly wipes it away, hoping no one notices.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” Mom says softly. “It’s not that we want to forget. It’s just… it’s been so hard, and sometimes it feels like the memories are slipping away.”
Jack looks around the table, frustrated and sad that they all seem to want to forget, to move on without acknowledging the loss that still haunts him. It’s as if he’s the only one holding onto the precious fragments of his dad, the only one who remembers the way he used to carve the turkey, the way he would laugh and make everyone feel warm and loved. His heart feels heavy, weighed down by the loneliness of remembering when no one else seems to.
Sensing Jack's distress, Grandpa tries to change the topic, leaning in with a familiar, enthusiastic glint in his eye. “Jack, you remember our last talk about black holes? Did you know that they can warp time itself? Imagine traveling through one and ending up in a different part of the universe!”
Jack’s eyes light up slightly at this, his mind instantly transported to the fantastical worlds of his books. “Really, Grandpa? Just like in ‘A Wrinkle in Time’?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.
“Yes, indeed,” Grandpa replies, his tone rich with the joy of sharing knowledge. “Just like in your book. The real universe is full of such mysteries.”
“And Grandma,” Jack turns to her, a spark of curiosity reignited, “tell me more about those… what did you call them… strings?”
“String theory,” Grandma smiles, glad to see Jack’s interest. “Imagine everything in the universe, from the tiniest particle to the largest galaxy, is made up of tiny, vibrating strings. It’s like a cosmic symphony, each string playing its own note.”
Jack nods, fascinated. For a moment, the room seems brighter, the weight of his grief lifting slightly as he immerses himself in the wonders of the universe. “I want to be an astronaut one day,” he says quietly, his gaze distant as if looking at stars only he can see. “Just like Astro.”
“I’m sure you will, Jack,” Grandma says, her voice gentle. “You’ve got the curiosity and the spirit for it.”
But as the conversation turns back to more mundane matters, the reality of his father’s absence presses down on him again, and he feels the tears welling up, hot and insistent. “I’m sorry,” Jack whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. He pushes his chair back and stands, his legs unsteady.
Mom looks up, her eyes filled with concern. “Jack, are you okay?”
Jack shakes his head, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, his voice breaking. He turns and runs from the room, his footsteps echoing through the house, the weight of his sorrow too much to bear. In his mind, he’s running through a portal into another dimension, where Tintin and Astro are waiting to embark on another great adventure, away from the pain and confusion of the present.
“Jack!” Mom calls after him, but he’s already gone, disappearing up the stairs to his room, leaving the warmth and light of the dinner behind.
The room falls silent, the joyful atmosphere shattered. Grandma and Grandpa exchange worried glances, and Mom sighs, her heart aching for her little boy. She rises and follows Jack, leaving the festive scene behind, the weight of his sadness casting a long shadow over the night.
In the quiet dining room, the clinking of silverware is the only sound as the family continues their meal, their hearts heavy with the burden of loss and the hope of healing. The story of Jack, though small in the grand scheme of the universe, is one of love, loss, and the enduring strength of family.
The next morning, a brilliant winter sun shone through Jack’s bedroom window, casting a golden glow across the room and highlighting the remnants of yesterday’s snowfall. The rays bounced off the shimmering strands of tinsel draped over the Christmas tree and reflected in the polished surface of his mother’s pearl necklace, each bead gleaming like a drop of dew caught in the first light of dawn. The air was filled with the mingling scents of pine and cinnamon, a fragrant symphony that spoke of warmth and family.
Jack’s mother, Shelly, stood beside the tree, her figure framed by the light streaming through the window. She wore a cozy, cream-colored sweater adorned with delicate snowflake patterns, her soft blue jeans hugging her figure in a comfortable embrace. Around her neck hung the pearl necklace, a gift from years gone by, each bead a memory strung together in an unbroken line.
Jack's eyes wandered to the necklace, and he was momentarily lost in a memory. It was summer in Chicago, and the world was alive with color and warmth. They were in the backyard, celebrating his mother's 36th birthday. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the old oak tree that stood sentinel at the edge of the yard.
His father, Dan, had looked so proud that day. He stood under the canopy, a wide grin on his face as he handed Shelly a small, velvet box. His eyes sparkled with mischief and love. "Happy Birthday, my love," he had said, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand promises. Shelly had opened the box to find the pearl necklace, its lustrous orbs glowing in the sunlight. She had gasped in delight, tears springing to her eyes as she threw her arms around Dan’s neck, their laughter mingling with the cheerful chatter of Grandma and Grandpa who watched with smiles of approval.
The memory faded, and Jack was jolted back to the present by the sound of his mother’s voice. "Jack, are you okay?" she asked, her tone gentle yet tinged with concern. Her hand rested on his shoulder, a soft weight that grounded him in the moment. "It's time you have this. It was from your dad. I don’t remember the details, but I think you should have it."
She handed him a box, its shiny red paper reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. Jack’s fingers trembled as he accepted the gift, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He tore away the wrapping, each rip of the paper revealing glimpses of the treasure within. Inside, lying in perfect repose, was a sleek robot. Its surface gleamed with an otherworldly sheen, and its design was a labyrinth of intricate details that spoke of far-off lands and ancient wisdom. This was Sparks.
Sparks was a marvel of robotics, a fusion of sleek modernity and charming retro aesthetics. His body was predominantly white, adorned with accents of vibrant blues and yellows. His exterior was polished to a gleaming finish, reflecting light in a way that made him look almost ethereal, as if he had stepped straight out of a sci-fi dream.
Sparks stood about two feet tall, his frame compact yet robust. His head was large compared to his body, featuring a smooth, domed surface with rounded edges that gave him a friendly and approachable demeanor. His eyes were large, glowing orbs of blue that emitted a soft, inviting light. They were set within a black visor-like faceplate, giving him an expression that could shift from curious to serious with a simple change in illumination.
His torso was a blend of sleek armor plating and intricate circuitry, with small compartments and panels that hinted at the advanced technology contained within. He had a chest plate with a glowing emblem that pulsed with a rhythmic light, possibly indicating his energy levels or some other mysterious function.
Sparks' arms were articulated with multiple joints, allowing for a wide range of movement. They ended in hands that could grasp, manipulate, and interact with the environment in a surprisingly delicate manner. Each hand had a set of fingers that were both functional and expressive, capable of performing intricate tasks or conveying emotions through subtle gestures.
His legs were sturdy yet agile, designed for both stability and speed. They were segmented with flexible joints that allowed him to move with a surprising grace, whether he was navigating through a busy marketplace or sprinting across open terrain. His feet were broad and equipped with a set of small, glowing pads that provided traction and stability, lighting up with each step he took.
On his back, Sparks had a small compartment where he could store essential tools and gadgets. It was a testament to his role as both a helper and an adventurer, always prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead. His overall appearance was an endearing blend of the futuristic and the familiar, evoking a sense of nostalgia while also hinting at the incredible capabilities that lay beneath his shiny exterior.
"Wow, Mom! This is amazing!" Jack's voice echoed with awe, his eyes wide and sparkling with the pure wonder of discovery.
His mother knelt beside him, her presence a comforting cocoon of warmth and familiarity in the midst of the unknown. "There are some instructions here," she said, her fingers brushing lightly over a small booklet nestled in the box. "Let's see how this little guy works."
But as they began to decipher the cryptic symbols and arcane phrases, the phone rang, shattering the moment with its insistent clamour. Jack’s mom sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of worlds. She rose reluctantly, her hand lingering on Jack’s shoulder. "Hold on, Jack. I'll be right back. Keep looking at those instructions, okay?"
As her footsteps faded into the distance, Jack's gaze fell upon the booklet. The margins were filled with strange markings, symbols that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. They were familiar, whispers from the past, from the secret games and hidden worlds he had once shared with his father. Little keys, phrases, and symbols that only he would understand.
"Yeah, this is Shelly speaking" his mom’s voice drifted back to him, carrying the cadence of a bygone era, a hint of Windy City charm that was as comforting as it was enigmatic.
Jack's heart raced as he pieced together the clues. Memories of adventures with his dad surged forward, a mosaic of secret messages and hidden quests. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he followed the trail of hints, pressing buttons and speaking phrases that held the magic of their shared past.
Suddenly, Sparks sprang to life, his eyes blazing with a luminous glow. Jack's breath hitched, a shiver of anticipation and wonder running down his spine. The robot projected a hologram into the air, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, was his dad. His expression was urgent, his message cloaked in the mystery of a thousand secrets, played backwards to heighten the enigma.
"Come find me, Jack," the hologram intoned, the words echoing in the silence, wrapping around Jack like a spectral embrace.
Jack’s heart pounded in his chest, a wild symphony of fear and excitement. His dad was out there, somewhere, and now he had Sparks, his guide and companion on a journey that promised to be as perilous as it was extraordinary.
"We have 30 minutes! I hope you can run!" Sparks chirped, his voice crackling with urgency.
Jack's eyes widened in confusion. "What? Why?"
"We've got to catch a train, or else we’ll have to wait 10 human years to catch the next one!" Sparks' tone was serious, but a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.
Sparks' Holographic eyes twinkled mischievously as he added, "You want to find your dad, right? Well, strap on your superhero cape and get ready to explore, my trusty sidekick! We're about to dive into an adventure so epic, even the masked vigilantes would be impressed!"
With a resolute nod, Jack sprang into action, his mind racing with the urgency of the task ahead. He packed his backpack with essentials, each item a link to his life and the journey that lay before him. Scribbling a hasty note to his mom, he slid it under her bedroom door, the words a promise and a farewell: "Be right back, Mom! Going to find Dad! Love, Jack."
Without a backward glance, Jack climbed out of the window, Sparks at his side, the cool night air rushing past them as they raced into the unknown. The town, aglow with festive lights and the scent of pine and cinnamon, seemed to watch them with silent approval. In the distance, his mom's voice called out, a worried echo that faded into the night: "Jack! Where did you go?!"
But Jack didn't stop. His path was clear, his resolve unshakable. With Sparks guiding him, he plunged into the heart of the mystery, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
The town square was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds, a carnival of holiday cheer. Market stalls overflowed with trinkets and treats, their bright colors a stark contrast to the white of the snow. Street performers spun and twirled, their laughter mingling with the strains of music that filled the air. Jack's heart beat a wild rhythm as he and Sparks weaved through the crowd, their destination a beacon on the horizon.
They arrived at the train station just as the locomotive began to pull away, its wheels churning through the snow, smoke billowing from its chimney like a dragon’s breath. With a burst of desperate energy, they leaped onto the train, their fingers grasping the cold metal of the railing as they hoisted themselves aboard.
Panting and exhilarated, Jack collapsed onto the floor of the train car, his cheeks flushed from the cold and the thrill of the chase. Sparks whirred beside him, his eyes reflecting the excitement and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.
But their triumph was short-lived. The train hurtled through the night, its path veering towards a cliff's edge buried beneath the snow. Jack and Sparks screamed, their voices lost in the wind, convinced they were speeding towards their doom.
Sparks, ever the optimist, quipped, "Well, that was quite the downhill ride, Jack! Remind me to avoid ski trips with you in the future."
Jack, despite the terror of the moment, managed a laugh. "You mean 'Ahhhhhhhhh,' that screaming? You mean it's not scary to you?"
Sparks responded with a mechanical laugh. "Oh, Jack, you know me. I'm as cool as a cucumber, even when we're hurtling towards a snowy abyss. But hey, I figured I'd join in on the fun, keep the vibe light!"
Jack grinned, grateful for Sparks' humor in the face of danger.
Then, just as they braced for impact, the world shimmered and faded, the train dissolving into a spray of sparkling particles. They were enveloped in a vortex of light and sound, a tunnel through time and space that carried them towards the unknown. As they clung to each other, Jack and Sparks exchanged a bewildered glance, their hearts pounding with the thrill and fear of the journey. They had no idea what awaited them, but they knew it would be an adventure unlike any they had ever known.
The train car they found themselves in was a bustling, fantastical wonderland, packed to the brim with passengers of every imaginable kind. Humanoid androids with bodies of polished chrome sat beside towering aliens with scales that shimmered like the night sky. Mysterious witches in flowing robes murmured incantations, their eyes flickering with hidden fires. Men in black suits, their faces obscured by shadows and wide-brimmed hats, exchanged glances and adjusted devices that blinked with foreboding red lights. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices and the hum of a hundred foreign tongues, each whispering a story of its own.
As Jack looked around, he noticed floppy disk flies buzzing around the train's cabinets, their wings whirring with a mechanical hum. He leaned over to Sparks and whispered, "Hey, do you see those floppy disk flies? What are they doing here?"
Sparks, with a hint of amusement, responded, "Ah, those ancient relics. They must have hitched a ride from a bygone era. Maybe they're here to remind us of the good old days when saving data meant something more tangible than cloud storage!"
The train conductor, a blob-like alien wearing an AI helmet and a uniform that sparkled with intricate designs, loomed over them. "Where is your pass?" it asked, its voice a bubbling gurgle that sent shivers down Jack's spine.
Jack stammered, "I… I don’t have one."
A tiny hovering bot emerged from the conductor's body, emitting a red beam that scanned them both before declaring, "Clear."
Looking around for a place to sit, Jack saw that the train was far from ordinary. It was a vast, cavernous space, far larger than it appeared from the outside. Though the train’s exterior was a sleek, steam-punk marvel of brass and rivets, the interior seemed to defy the laws of physics, expanding into a seemingly infinite space to accommodate its extraordinary occupants.
The environment inside was a chaotic symphony of sights and sounds. Enormous trees grew straight out of the floor, their branches stretching high above into a canopy that rustled with the movement of fantastical creatures. Small, winged beings darted among the leaves, their tiny, luminescent bodies flickering like fireflies. Down below, creatures resembling miniature dragons scampered around the tree trunks, nibbling at the bark and chirping excitedly. In one corner, waterfalls cascaded into lakes teeming with fantastical creatures like hydras and leviathans, their scales glistening under the shimmering lights. The sound of rushing water mixed with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant roar of a hydra, creating a mesmerizing soundscape.
Jack marveled at the sprawling environments within the train. There were sections with lush, sprawling forests where magical creatures roamed freely among the trees, their soft footfalls and the chirping of unseen birds creating a serene, natural ambiance. Next to that, vast deserts stretched out, their golden sands shimmering under an artificial sun, the air heavy with the scent of warm earth and dry winds whispering through the dunes. Beyond that, snow-capped mountains rose majestically, their peaks disappearing into the clouds, the crisp, cold air tinged with the sharp scent of pine and the distant calls of snow griffins echoing through the valleys. There were even dark caves, their interiors glowing with the light of bioluminescent fungi, the air cool and damp, and the sound of dripping water mixing with the eerie whispers of cave-dwelling creatures.
In another corner, a colony of giant spiders had spun intricate webs among the trees, their small, red eyes glinting ominously as they scuttled about. The largest spider, its body the size of a small car, had a single, enormous red eye that seemed to follow Jack as he moved. He shuddered at the sight but couldn't help but be fascinated by the eerie beauty of their silken webs glistening like diamonds in the dim light.
In the center of the car, a towering tree grew, its trunk massive and gnarled with age. From its branches hung delicate lanterns that glowed with a soft, warm light, illuminating the faces of the creatures gathered below. Jack noticed a group of elfin children playing a game near the base of the tree, their laughter ringing like silver bells in the air.
To the left, a bustling marketplace had been set up, with vendors selling everything from magical trinkets to interstellar snacks. The air was filled with the rich aromas of exotic spices and freshly cooked delicacies. Jack could hear the cheerful chatter of traders haggling over prices and the clinking of gold coins as customers made their purchases.
Overhead, the ceiling arched high into a dome, shimmering with a kaleidoscope of colors that danced and changed with the shifting light. Platforms suspended in mid-air held small gardens, each one a miniature ecosystem teeming with life. Plants of every conceivable shape and color twisted and spiraled, their tendrils reaching out to the passengers who passed by.
Further down, there were lakes where fantastical creatures like hydras and leviathans swam, their scales reflecting the shimmering light. The lakes were surrounded by lush vegetation, and the air was filled with the sound of rushing water and the soft rustling of leaves. In the center of the lake, a group of merfolk played instruments, their haunting melodies adding a mystical ambiance to the surroundings.
Jack's eyes widened in alarm as he saw a cluster of giant fire-breathing dragons resting by a pool of molten lava, their scales shimmering like hot embers. Nearby, a group of electric dragons basked under a storm cloud that rumbled with flashes of lightning, their bodies crackling with energy. And in a shadowy corner, a pair of acid dragons slumbered in a pit of bubbling green ooze, their scales dripping with a corrosive substance that hissed as it touched the ground.
Suddenly, Jack's attention was drawn to a flock of hideous, scary-looking flying creatures that seemed to combine the worst features of bats and reptiles. Their leathery wings beat the air with an eerie rustle, and their eyes glowed a malevolent red as they circled overhead. Jack’s heart pounded in his chest, a surge of fear gripping him. "Sparks, what are those?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Sparks, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, replied, "Those, my dear Jack, are tooth fairies."
Jack's eyes widened in disbelief. "Tooth fairies? But they look so hideous and scary!"
Sparks chuckled. "Yes, well, that's because human teeth are a crucial part of their diet. They've developed quite a taste for them over the centuries. Don’t worry, though. They’re just here for the scenery."
Jack noticed the tooth fairies eyeing him hungrily, their sharp teeth glinting ominously. They began to circle closer, their eyes locked onto Jack as if he were a delicious meal. Just as they started to make a move towards him, the train's intercom crackled to life. "Attention, passengers: Please remember that any form of attack or hostility towards fellow passengers will result in immediate disintegration. Thank you for your cooperation."
The tooth fairies hesitated, their eyes darting nervously. Jack watched in horror as they decided to test the rule, lunging towards him with a predatory gleam in their eyes. But before they could get close, a bright light enveloped them, and they disintegrated into a shower of sparkling dust.
Sparks grinned. "Well, looks like they bit off more than they could chew! Who knew being a tooth fairy could be so… disintegrating?"
Jack couldn't help but laugh at Sparks' joke, the tension easing as he realized they were safe.
As the train sped through a section that appeared to have no ceiling, Jack looked up and saw a breathtaking sight. The sky above was a vibrant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. Flying overhead were magnificent phoenixes with fiery wings, their radiant plumes casting a warm glow. A few dragons soared among them, their scales glinting in the sunlight. Jack could see witches riding on broomsticks, cackling with glee as they zoomed through the air.
The train itself seemed to stretch infinitely into the distance, its vast interior filled with creatures of every imaginable kind. Towering kaiju-like beings stood next to mobile suit robots that gleamed with polished metal, their movements surprisingly graceful for their immense size. Despite their differences, all the passengers coexisted harmoniously, each waiting patiently for their stop.
In one corner, Jack spotted a group of talking unicorns with shimmering coats, their horns spiraled with an otherworldly light. They chatted animatedly with a pair of centaurs, their voices a melodic harmony that added to the surreal atmosphere. Nearby, futuristic vehicles like flying cars and hovercrafts were parked in designated areas, their sleek designs a stark contrast to the more traditional creatures around them.
Jack's eyes widened in awe as he spotted a goat king, adorned with a golden crown, sitting majestically on a throne carried by a troop of goat soldiers. The goat king's regal demeanor was matched by the imposing presence of his soldiers, each one equipped with a gleaming spear and clad in ornate armor. They stood proudly beside him, their eyes scanning the surroundings with a watchful gaze.
All around, the air was filled with the mingling scents of exotic flowers, freshly baked pastries, and the faint, tangy aroma of ozone from the electric dragons. The sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional roar of a dragon or the hum of a futuristic vehicle created a symphony of life that filled the train with a sense of wonder and excitement.
Jack exchanged a puzzled look with Sparks, his mind racing with questions as the train sped through the vortex of time.
Sparks, sensing Jack's anxiety, began to sing, "You and I must make a pact. We must bring salvation back. Where there is love, I'll be there." Jack joined in, their voices a harmonious echo that seemed to soothe the tension in the air.
A moment later, a creature that seemed a blend of wolf and elephant, clad in a uniform as elaborate as the conductor's, approached them. "Do you want any refreshments? I am running a sale here, kid."
Jack declined, and Sparks added with a cheeky grin, "Yeah, we're watching our calorie intake. Got to maintain these sleek robot curves!"
As Jack stared out the window, watching the swirling vortex, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the life he was leaving behind. Memories of winters past filled his mind: the crisp air, the laughter of friends, the twinkling lights that adorned his home. He whispered softly, "Goodbye, home."
Just then, he noticed a figure in a black hat watching them from a few seats away. Jack's curiosity piqued, he leaned over to Sparks and whispered, "Hey, do you see that furry guy with the black hat staring at us?"
Sparks, with mock seriousness, replied, "Hmm, that's strange. I'm not in the market for romantic partners at the moment. Maybe I should let him know gently before he starts knitting us matching sweaters!" Jack burst out laughing, the tension easing as they journeyed deeper into the unknown.
Jack's curiosity piqued, and he looked at Sparks, wondering about the train's destination. Sparks, sensing Jack's question, smiled and said, "Want to know where we're headed?"
Jack nodded eagerly. Sparks' chest plate began to shift and morph, the smooth metal rippling like water. It transformed into a futuristic display, the intricate circuitry and panels aligning to form a high-resolution screen. The display lit up with a detailed map, showcasing their current location in a swirling vortex of time and space. Pulsing lines and blinking icons showed the train's path, destination, and estimated arrival time.
Jack watched in awe as the map zoomed in, revealing their destination: Tokyo, year 1604. The screen showed the cityscape of ancient Tokyo, with winding streets, traditional wooden houses, and towering temples. The arrival time flickered on the screen, counting down the minutes and seconds until they reached their destination.
Sparks' voice, calm and reassuring, broke the silence. "Next stop: Year 1604, Tokyo. Arrival in approximately 10 minutes. Prepare for an extraordinary journey through time and history."
Jack's excitement surged as he stared at the display, his mind racing with thoughts of the adventures that awaited them. Sparks' chest continued to display the map, the detailed graphics and vibrant colors illuminating the path ahead, guiding them through the mysteries of time and space.

Posting here because I am extremely conflicted in my emotions right now. I (25F) have barely spoken to my mom in nearly a month now after a textbook borderline/narc parent fight (posted about it on another subreddit*), which finally put things into perspective for me and made me realize how controlled/oppressed/gaslit I have always been (if you look up the borderline "Queen type", this almost one-on-one describes my mom). I have really been going through it the last month because so many traumatic memories are coming back to me from my childhood. I randomly decided to write down a few things that I remembered and easily filled multiple pages.
The thing is, I also miss my mom. We had plenty of good moments too and I know for a fact my mom did/does love me. I woke up a few days ago and I thought for a second I was in my childhood home, and I got so extremely sad, remembering the happy mornings when me and my mom used to watch television together. I really thought that I couldn't live without my mom growing up because I loved her so much.
Then again, I am also reminded of all the bad times: how I have been walking on eggshells my whole life, how I was always afraid my mom would leave me or stop loving me (something she threatened with), how she has never in her life apologized to me, how she would ignore me for days as a child, how I was forced to resolve conflicts between my parents, how she would dismiss/belittle my feelings or tell me how I should feel, how I always tiptoed around her emotions, etc, etc...
It's like there are two versions of her in my mind and I desperately yearn for her love and approval again (which I know is part of the problem). She makes me feel so insignificant and small and I genuinely sometimes feel like I can't be okay if she doesn't accept me again (which, again, I know is part of the problem). It doesn't help that she's acting like SHE cut contact with me and she doesn't trust me anymore after "what I have done to her" (see the context of this below). My (equally N) grandma sides with her and says it's my responsibility to mend the relationship now, but I'm mostly just genuinely exhausted from everything. At the same time, I wish I could just go back to where I pretended everything was "normal" so that I wouldn't feel so alone and lost.
*context of the fight I talked about earlier: she thought it was the biggest betrayal of her life when I said I wanted to invite my dad (divorced parents) to my wedding, which I eventually for her sake decided NOT to do anymore and even ended up apologizing for. I did tell her I wished she had also understood my feelings, after which she said I was ungrateful for everything she has done for me and that I did this on purpose to show her how much I hate her and take her for granted. Basically after this she has been radio silent apart from a few text messages where she accuses me of having a "low EQ" and that I, the perpetrator, turned myself into the victim.

Throwaway because my main account is public knowledge. Some details have to be kept vague to avoid identification.
I (46F) have a biological daughter (17F) Sky and an adopted daughter (17F) Pan. They are both very smart girls, but Sky is a prom queen type, pretty and athletic, while Pan is more introverted and has a mousy demeanor to her. I had some favoritism for my bio daughter Sky (like everybody), but I was always polite and gentle with Pan, and I provided as well as I could.
Despite this, Pan was always stand-offish and, without wanting to be mean, I always thought she was a bit ungrateful. I was reluctant to take her in at first because her bio dad had a bad history with my family, but I never blamed her for anything. It's just that when things were difficult at home she'd always have some reason why she couldn't do anything. She had a gift for making people feel better outside the family, but she couldn't help at home? Ok, whatever. Pan's bio dad was kind an asshole, so maybe she got that from him.
So I didn't have the best mom-daughter relationship with Pan. At least Sky liked to hang out with Pan, so I didn't have to think much about that.
Things came to a head 2 years ago. I forgot to say I have a husband (48M). He's nice, but he had been out of it lately, and borderline useless in the last month. One day, after some unrelated events that were particularly stressful, Pan decided that he's gonna help cheer husband up, and it works? He's back to his old self, bursting with energy. I was glad, but also kind of pissed because she could have done this all along and just chose not to.
Sky and Pan got into a fight over this, but (this is where it gets very weird, I swear this isn't made up), somehow, a day or two later they run away together. It seems they were now in love with each other, and that was why they had been fighting recently. Apparently Pan had had feelings for Sky for a long time, and had kept it a secret out of shame. Sky had a boyfriend who passed away weeks earlier.
We found them after a few days, and it wasn't pretty. Pan panicked when she saw us, and didn't want us to come into their hideout (some abandoned building). We did anyway, and it was a sight to behold. It was filthy, like a thousand rats had lived and died in that room. It was also obvious they had been getting intimate these days, which was very uncomfortable for me as a mom and I just chose to not think about it. Sky was just lying there, unresponsive. My gorgeous, cheerful Sky, was unrecognizable. Without going into details, Pan had done something very wrong that went very badly. Whatever Pan had done, it changed Sky in a way that couldn't be easily taken back.
I was angry, heartbroken, but at the same time, I knew the only way to go forward was to ignore feelings and focus on damage control. Sky had to be committed to a psych ward, and there wasn't much for me to do there. Pan was the only one I could parent, and right this moment she needed it. I reassured her that everybody makes mistakes and she can come back from this, but she was feeling so guilty that she decided to literally not come back: she wanted to go to prison. And she did. Imagine my shock. Pan's bio dad was in prison too, and in that moment where I was doing my very best to be her mom, I felt like I lost her to him.
I thought that would be the end of it, completely losing both my daughters, but there were some big events where I live that shook things up. Maybe I sound dramatic but it looked like the end of the world for a time. While tragic, it gave the clouds a silver lining. Nay, golden! Pan was let out of prison, and she was standing with her head high. Such a change! It used to be Sky that had that imposing aura. Pan had used to the time to come to terms with her past, and was all about making herself useful in the present and fixing what she could.
Sky was still in the psych ward, doing therapy but making little progress. She was stuck on that moment years ago, unable to move in any way from it. It wasn't until Pan visited her that Sky was able to snap out of it. Did I mention that Pan had a gift for making people feel better? I hoped this would make everything right, but Sky now hated Pan and wanted to have nothing to do with her. She accused of her of manipulating her feelings, taking advantage, etc. which I can understand how she would feel like that. I tried to reason with her, but she got upset at me too (for not visiting often enough, only taking Pan's side etc.), so she wasn't receptive at the time.
The rest of my relatives was happy to have our girls back. Finally we had a shot at being a full family! The only issue was my daughters not talking to each other. When I figured enough time had passed that feelings would have cooled down, I decided to throw a family party at home and invited everybody, including Sky and Pan.
Everything was going well, until Sky arrived. She was outraged that we had invited Pan! Pan even tried to offer an apology but Sky's hostility was so visceral that she couldn't. She left saying that we tricked her into coming here to talk to Pan against her will, and she'll never be back. It's true I didn't specify "Pan will be here" when I sent the invite, but I did say it's a "family party" and "everyone is invited". And Pan IS family!! Honestly she's doing more for the family lately than Sky, but I didn't wanna argue about that.
So now my daughter thinks I'm a horrible person for trying to fix things. I think I did everything as right as I could but, as a lawyer, I know there's 2 sides to every story. So, reddit,
AITA?

banner
Welcome back to the Reformed UPG of the Week! This week, Joshua Project seems to be having a DNS error (or attack?) so I am going to again re-do an older post that I did a few years ago and also pull some info from PeopleGroups.org. Meet the Tay of Vietnam!

Region: North Vietnam

low quality map bc JP wont load
Stratus Index Ranking (Urgency): 66
It has been noted to me by u/JCmathetes that I should explain this ranking. Low numbers are more urgent, both physically and spiritually together, while high numbers are less urgent. The scale is 1-177, with one number assigned to each country. So basically on a scale from Afghanistan (1) to Finland (177), how urgent are the peoples physical and spiritual needs.

The Stratus Index - Synthesizes reliable data from different sources to clearly display the world’s most urgent spiritual and physical needs.
The vast majority of missions resources go to people and places already Reached by the Gospel, while only 3% of missionaries and 1% of missions money are deployed among the Unreached. This is the Great Imbalance. As a result, there are more people without access to the Gospel today than a decade ago. Stratus seeks to equip the global church with fresh vision to accomplish the Great Commission by addressing some of the factors that perpetuate the Great Imbalance. We hope this tool allows the church to better understand what steps will be required to overcome the barriers that prevent needs from being met, spurring informed and collaborative missions strategy. Stratus Website

Hanoi
Quay Son River
Climate: Due to differences in latitude and the marked variety in topographical relief, Vietnam's climate tends to vary considerably for each region. During the winter or dry season, extending roughly from November to April, the monsoon winds usually blow from the northeast along the Chinese coast and across the Gulf of Tonkin, picking up considerable moisture. The average annual temperature is generally higher in the plains than in the mountains, especially in southern Vietnam compared to the north. Temperatures vary less in the southern plains around Ho Chi Minh City and the Mekong Delta, ranging from between 21 and 35 °C (70 and 95 °F) over the year. In Hanoi and the surrounding areas of the Red River Delta, the temperatures are much lower between 15 and 33 °C (59 and 91 °F). Seasonal variations in the mountains, plateaus, and the northernmost areas are much more dramatic, with temperatures varying from 3 °C (37 °F) in December and January to 37 °C (99 °F) in July and August. During winter, snow occasionally falls over the highest peaks of the far northern mountains near the Chinese border. Vietnam receives high rates of precipitation in the form of rainfall with an average amount from 1,500 to 2,000 mm (60 to 80 in) during the monsoon seasons; this often causes flooding, especially in the cities with poor drainage systems. The country is also affected by tropical depressions, tropical storms and typhoons.
Rice Terraces in Vietnam
Terrain: Vietnam's northern terrain is mostly mountainous or hilly, with some highland areas covered by a thick green blanket of jungle (about half the total land area). The Red River Delta and coastal plains in the lowland part of the North are heavily populated and intensively cultivated (almost entirely by rice fields).
The joined Delta of Hong River (Red River) and Thái Bình River is a flat, triangular region of 15,000 square kilometers. The Hong River Delta is smaller but more intensely developed and more densely populated than the Mekong Delta. Once an inlet of the Gulf of Tonkin, it has been filled in by the enormous alluvial deposits of the rivers over a period of millennia, and it advances one hundred meters into the Gulf annually.The ancestral home of the ethnic Vietnamese, the delta accounted for almost 70% of the agriculture and 80% of the industry of North Vietnam before 1975.
The Red River, rising in China's Yunnan Province, is about 1,200 kilometers long. Its two main tributaries, the Sông Lô (also called the Lo River, the Riviere Claire, or the Clear River) and the Sông Đà (also called the Black River or Riviere Noire), contribute to its high water volume, which averages 4,300 cubic meters per second.
The entire delta region, backed by the steep rises of the forested highlands, is no more than three meters above sea level, and much of it is one meter or less. The area is subject to frequent flooding; at some places the high-water mark of floods is fourteen meters above the surrounding countryside. For centuries flood control has been an integral part of the delta's culture and economy. An extensive system of dikes and canals has been built to contain the Red River and to irrigate the rich rice-growing delta. Modeled on that of China's, this ancient system has sustained a highly concentrated population and has made double-cropping wet-rice cultivation possible throughout about half the region.
The central mountains, which have several high plateaus, are irregular in elevation and form. The northern section is narrow and very rugged; the country's highest peak, Fan Si Pan, rises to 3,142 meters in the extreme northwest. The southern portion has numerous spurs that divide the narrow coastal strip into a series of compartments. For centuries these topographical features not only rendered north–south communication difficult but also formed an effective natural barrier for the containment of the people living in the Mekong basin.
The Mekong Delta, covering about 40,000 square kilometers, is a low-level plain not more than three meters above sea level at any point and criss-crossed by a maze of canals and rivers. So much sediment is carried by the Mekong's various branches and tributaries that the delta advances sixty to eighty meters into the sea every year. An official Vietnamese source estimates the amount of sediment deposited annually to be about 1 billion cubic meters, or nearly thirteen times the amount deposited by the Red River. About 10,000 square kilometers of the delta are under rice cultivation, making the area one of the major rice-growing regions of the world. The southern tip, known as the Cà Mau Peninsula is covered by dense jungle and mangrove swamps.
Ha Long Bay
Wildlife of Vietnam: Faunal species noted are accounted as 11,217 species of animals, in Vietnam's hot and humid climate. These are broadly: Indian elephants, bears (black bear and honey bear), Indochinese tigers and Indochinese leopards as well as smaller animals like pygmy lorises, monkeys (such as snub-nosed monkey), bats, flying squirrels, turtles and otters. Reptiles such as crocodiles, snakes and lizards are also reported. Specifically the faunal species which are endemic to Vietnam are the following. While many variety of animals have become extinct like the Northern Sumatran rhinoceros, the protection of large animals have been addressed. The Vietnamese Javan rhinoceros used to live throughout the region of Vietnam but was declared extinct in 2010 when the last remaining individual was found dead with the horn removed.
Unfortunately, they have monkeys.
Wild elephant in Vietnam
Environmental Issues: The main overall issue that Vietnam is currently dealing with surrounds environmental pollution. This includes a lack of clean water supply, waste water, air pollution, and solid waste. Not only do these issues effect Vietnam, but also its population, urbanization, and surrounding countries.
Languages: Vietnamese is the national language. Also in Vietnam, French, Tày, Cham, Khmer, Chinese, Nùng, and Hmong. The Tay speak Tay.
Government Type: Unitary Marxist–Leninist one-party socialist republic

People: Tay in Vietnam

Tay women
Population: 1,835,000
Estimated Foreign Workers Needed: [Joshua Project is down]
Beliefs: The Tay are 1% Christian. That means out of their population of 1,835,000, there are roughly 18,000 believers. Thats about 1 believer for every 100 unbeliever.
The Tay worship a multitude of gods. Ancestor worship (praying to deceased ancestors for protection and guidance) is commonly practiced. The Tay are also animistic (believe that non-living objects have spirits).
Traditionally, most Tay villages had temples where they worshipped a multitude of gods associated with earth, water, fire, and important ancestors. Many other spirits and ghosts were also worshipped. The major ceremony of the year was held at the beginning of the farming season, when the various deities were asked permission to prepare the farm and plant the seeds. Folk literature and art were also of importance in religious life.Traditionally, most Tay villages had temples where they worshipped a multitude of gods associated with earth, water, fire, and important ancestors. Many other spirits and ghosts were also worshipped. The major ceremony of the year was held at the beginning of the farming season, when the various deities were asked permission to prepare the farm and plant the seeds. Folk literature and art were also of importance in religious life.
The Tay worship a multitude of gods. Ancestor worship (praying to deceased ancestors for protection and guidance) is commonly practiced. The Tay are also animistic (believe that non-living objects have spirits) The Tay have a strong belief in supernatural. Worshiping their ancestors is the most invaluable ritual of the Tay. The altars for the ancestors are placed in a central location in the house. The altar room is such a sacred place that guests is not allowed to sit on the bed in front of the altar.
Their polytheistic belief system consists of worshiping spirits, ancestors, and midwives. Astrology is also an important part of their belief system. For instance, for marriages and building new houses they consult astrology. The cult of the midwife is especially worshiped. After the wedding, the wife stays with her parents during her pregnancy to avoid evil spirits. When a child is born, there’s the one-month ritual for honoring the midwife.
Tay people praying before an altar
History: The Tày were originally known as the Thổ people. Thổ is derived from Chinese tǔ (土), which means 'land' and 'local'. Although not inherently a pejorative it was often used as such in practice (cf. "bumpkin") in both Vietnam and China. Under the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, Thổ was deemed a pejorative and substituted with Tày
The Tày are closely related to the Nùng people and Zhuang people, who they are culturally and linguistically almost "indistinguishable from". (pulled this from Wikipedia. this sounds racist and probably not entirely true)
Although they are considered an indigenous group, portions of their population likely originated in China during the 11th and 12th centuries. However unlike the Nùng, they were more heavily Vietnamized due to their closer proximity to the Kinh and shared similar cultural practices with the Vietnamese such as lacquering their teeth black. By 1900 around 30% of their language was made of Vietnamese loan words.
Tày customs were altered greatly due to Vietnamese and Confucian patriarchal structures, however some customs persisted. Polygamy with multiple equal wives and legitimacy of issue was practiced. Marriage was preferred to occur within the clan. Young wives lived with their parents until giving birth to their first child. Tày women, like those of the Nùng and Zhuang, were said to have used poison to seek revenge when wronged.
At the end of the 1700s when Vietnam was in chaos, several ethnic groups united with the native groups of Thai speaking peoples. These people became known as the Tho. Today, they are regarded as an official minority in Vietnam. They prefer to be known as "Tay," since the term "Tho" is now considered derogatory.
Tay village (i think)
Culture: Typical qualification that all people groups can't be summed up in small paragraphs and this is an over generalization.
The Tay are farmers who have a long tradition or wet rice cultivation. They have a long history of intensive cultivation and irrigation methods like digging canals, laying water pipes, etc. They also maintain the custom of harvesting the rice and thrashing the grains out on wooden racks, which they call loong, while still in the fields, then carrying the threshed rice home in baskets. In addition to cultivating wet fields,the Tay also plant rice on terraced fields along with the other crops and fruit trees. Cattle and poultry raising are well-developed, but a free range style of animal husbandry is still popular. Household crafts are worthy of note. The most famous Tay craft is weaving brocaded designs of beautiful and original patterns which are highly prized. The market is also an important economic activity.
The Tay have developed a rich culture of poems, songs, epics, tales, funny stories, and dance. Popular folk songs of the Tay are call-and-response singing, lullaby, Then, and wedding and funeral singing. Then is sung at events such as worshiping at the ancestral altar, praying for sick people, praying for a couple to have children, at family get-togethers, to welcome guests, and at a “going to the field” festival held in the first month of the new year. Then is an indispensable part of the spiritual and religious life of the Tay.The Tay have developed a rich culture of poems, songs, epics, tales, funny stories, and dance. Popular folk songs of the Tay are call-and-response singing, lullaby, Then, and wedding and funeral singing. Then is sung at events such as worshiping at the ancestral altar, praying for sick people, praying for a couple to have children, at family get-togethers, to welcome guests, and at a “going to the field” festival held in the first month of the new year. Then is an indispensable part of the spiritual and religious life of the Tay.
The Tay’s Quang regime is a form of social organization which resembles a feudal system that is aristocratic and hereditary. Within its rule region, the Quang owns all lands, forests, rivers, etc. Hence, it has the right to control everyone who lives on that land and to exploit these people through forced labor, imposing duties on commodities, and enforcing the payment of tributes and offerings. The Quang regime appeared very early and persisted until the end of the 19th century or the beginning of the 20th century. Tay families are usually small and the line of descent is traced through the father. Children begin school at six years of age and older. There, they begin studying the Vietnamese language. Young people choose their own marriage partners, and after a betrothal ceremony, many marriage rituals are performed. The groom is expected to perform some work for the bride's family as payment
The traditional dress is made from indigo dyed cotton. It is usually plain, with little embroidery or other decoration. The women wear a simple shirt with silver buttons down the front teamed with black trousers. Both sexes wear colorful head scarves. Nowadays the Tay are often seen wearing Viet and western clothes.
The Tay are mostly peasants who live in the low, sloping mountains between the high mountains and the plains of southeast Asia. They grow wet rice and use slash and burn techniques to grow dry rice, maize, buckwheat, watercress, sugar cane, and other vegetables. They grow hemp and use it for making bags and nets for fishing. They sell or exchange products for household items and use forest products for food.
The Tay have settled in valleys in the Northeastern part of the country: Quang Ninh, Bac Giang, Lang Son, Cao Bang, Bac Can, Thai Nguyen, Ha Giang, Tuyen Quang, Lao Cai, Yen Bai. Their villages are characteristically large and crowded, and there are villages with hundreds of houses. The Tay traditional house is built on stilts with a frame of rafters and 4, 5, 6, or 7 rows of columns. A house has from 2 to 4 roofs made from tiles, straw, or palm leaves. Wood or bamboo is used to make the walls. The Tay always build at the foot of a mountain. They call the name of the villages after a mountain, field, or river where they live. Each village has about 15-20 households, some big villages can contain hundreds of roofs. The Tay mainly live in houses built on the ground. These houses are private property, as are their accompanying gardens. However, there are still some Tay who live in houses built on stilts. The architecture of these homes is simple, without the fancy gables and decorative work commonly seen on other houses. Today, nearly all the Tay are part of a collectivized agricultural program in the form of community (collective) farms. Farm land is seen as community property that people are free to use, but not own.
Villages used to be the center of economic activity, with local markets rotating among a series of villages and trading mainly with the Vietnamese and Chinese communities. Today, however, the Tay have been primarily assimilated into the Vietnamese society. Traditionally, the Tay were master hunters. They used traps, cages, and automatically triggered arrows. Today, they hunt very little because of the changed ecological conditions.
Tay traditional dress is made from homegrown cotton that is indigo dyed. There is usually not much embroidery or other decorations. Women wear skirts or trousers, with short shirts inside and long one worn on the outside. The Ngan group wears shorter shirts, the Phen group wears brown shirts, the Thu Lao group wears conical-shaped scarves on their heads, the Pa Di group wears hats that look like house roofs, and the Tho group tend to dress like the Thai in Mai Chau (Hoa Binh province).
Tay Traditional Dress
Cuisine: In the past, in several places, the Tay ate mainly sticky rice, and almost every family used stew and steam pots for cooking. On festival occasions, they make many kinds of cakes, such as square rice cakes (banh chung), round rice cake (banh day), black rice sesame cake (banh gai), lime-water dumpling, fried rice cake, marble dumplings made of rice white rice flour with rock sugar fillings, patty make of mashed rice, etc. There are special cakes made from flour with an ant egg filling, and com, a young rice confection made from smoked sticky rice, roasted, and pounced. Other famous dishes among these peoples are Five-color Sticky Rice, Thang Den cake, Ha Giang sausages, and Grilled “Bỗng” Fish.
Thang den’ (floating sticky rice cake)
Prayer Request:

• Pray for the missionaries currently there, that God would protect them and guard them, their ministry, and their disciples.
• Pray the Christian believers among the Tay will be sent teachers to help them become well established in the faith. Pray they will find each other and love each other in order to fellowship together faithfully
• Pray they will learn to live in the power of Christ's Spirit, experiencing the fruit of Christ's Spirit consistently.
• Ask God to raise up prayer teams here and abroad that will break up the ground through worship and intercession.
• Ask the Lord to send long term laborers to live among the Tay of Vietnam and share the love of Christ with them.
• Ask the Holy Spirit to grant favor to Christians currently ministering to the Tay of Vietnam.
• Ask the Holy Spirit to soften the hearts of the people toward Christians so that they will be receptive to the Gospel.
• Pray against Putin and his insane little war.
• Pray for our nation (the United States), that we Christians can learn to come alongside our hurting brothers and sisters and learn to carry one another's burdens in a more Christlike manner than we have done historically.
• Pray that in this time of an upcoming election and insanity that the needs of the unreached are not forgotten by the church. Pray that our hearts continue to ache to see the unreached hear the Good News.

Brothers, my heart’s desire and prayer to God for them is that they may be saved. (Romans 10:1)
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Here are the previous weeks threads on the UPG of the Week for from 2023 (plus a few from 2022 so this one post isn't so lonely). To save some space on these, all UPG posts made 2019-now are here, I will try to keep this current!

People Group	Country	Continent	Date Posted	Beliefs
Tay (updated)	Vietnam	Asia	06/10/2024	Animism
Sunda (updated)	Indonesia	Asia	06/03/2024	Islam
Malay (updated)	Malaysia	Asia	05/27/2024	Islam
Jewish Peoples	United States	North America	05/06/2024	Judaism
Jordanian Arab	Jordan	Asia	04/29/2024	Islam
Bouyei	China	Asia	04/22/2024	Animism
Arab Libyans	Libya	Africa	03/25/2024	Islam
Gafsa Amazigh	Tunisia	Africa	03/18/2024	Islam
Hindi	South Africa	Africa	03/04/2024	Hinduism
Arabs	Iraq	Asia	02/26/2024	Islam
Bagirmi Fulani	Central African Republic	Africa	02/12/2024	Islam
Gujarati	Portugal	Europe	02/05/2024	Hinduism
Western Cham	Cambodia	Asia	01/29/2024	Islamc
Yadav	India	Asia	01/22/2024	Hinduism
Thai (updated)	Thailand	Asia	12/18/2023	Buddhism
Bayad	Mongolia	Asia	12/11/2023	Buddhism
Bedouin (Suafa)	Algeria	Africa	12/04/2023	Islam
Aboriginal (Reached)	Australia	Oceania	11/27/2023	Christian

a - Tibet belongs to Tibet, not China.
b - Russia/Turkey/etc is Europe but also Asia so...
c - this likely is not the true religion that they worship, but rather they have a mixture of what is listed with other local religions, or they have embraced a liberal drift and are leaving faith entirely but this is their historical faith.
Here is a list of definitions in case you wonder what exactly I mean by words like "Unreached".
Here is a list of missions organizations that reach out to the world to do missions for the Glory of God.

Hi everyone! Many of you have been asking about my upload schedule. Here's how it works:

• New Chapter Every Monday: Guaranteed!
• New Chapter Every Friday: Not guaranteed if I'm swamped with work or real life.

Thanks for your understanding and support!
***
“OH FUCK!” the breaching marshal yelped in a pitched voice as he was violently ripped into the building,
Mason’s rifle immediately started to bark out, sending round after round through the flimsy sheet metal wall in an effort to stop whatever had just assaulted their point man from following up. The cacophony of gunfire filled the small space, and the muzzle flashes illuminated both the tight alleyway and the office space inside.
D and the other marshal recoiled away from the gunfire instinctively before their own weapons after they found the sight of a multitude of faces staring at them flash from Mason’s weapon. Adding to the din, the two found their footing, fired where the giant had been, and at any sign of life within the building itself. Bullets ripped through the walls' sheet metal and the cubical dividers' cloth.
Amidst the chaos, the poor soul who had been yanked inside was scrambling on the ground in a desperate attempt to get outside as his voice reached a high-pitched screech of panic. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he yelled while kicking towards the exit, but he kept slipping on the broken glass and shattered wood.
Inside the building, the sound of crashing and banging echoed over the gunfire. It was clear that the giant, or whatever it was, was on the move, trying to put distance between itself and whatever the hell had just attacked him as a hail of bullets sailed overhead.
Even as his ears started to ring, Mason did his best to track the sound of thudding footsteps through the wall as he swung his rifle in an attempt to track it. Each step was met with more approximate bullets while D focused on the doorway, firing away at any flicker of shadow or hint of movement inside.
“GRAB HIM!! FUCKIN’ PULL HIM IN!” D yelled as he kept firing into the doorway.
Meanwhile, the other marshal lunged forward, grabbed his downed and panicking partner's blastic best, and began forcibly pulling him through the opening as the downed man kicked and slipped on the wood and glass that littered the floor.
"I got him! I got him!" the man yelled as he heaved his colleague to safety.
Not a moment too soon, a long string of automatic fire and blinding muzzle flashes erupted from the darkness within the doorway. The deafening roar of gunfire filled the alley, and the others joined the man on the floor, diving for cover as bullets whizzed overhead.
"Mother fucker!" Mason screamed as he hit the ground, pressing his body against the cold, wet asphalt, and started rolling to avoid the fusillade. An entire slew of curses left everyone’s mouth as they scrambled to find cover, narrowly avoiding becoming Swiss cheese as the armed suspected swept the area with his weapon.
The sounds of gunfire and police sirens filled the air as Mason rolled on his back and pointed his weapon at the door as soon as one suspect entered the door frame firing his pistol. Without even thinking, Mason pulled back on his trigger, sending 5 rounds into what was obviously a gangbanger or mobster, causing them to flinch and clutch at their body before running back inside.
Mason would have kept shooting; however, after the fifth round, his rifle let out an audible click signifying it was out of ammunition. "Goddamn bitch!" He cursed at the gunmen before quickly transitioning to his sidearm.
Bringing his Glock 19 up, Mason began firing at any figures darting around inside while the others scrambled to their feet, reloading their weapons. However, just as they started shooting into the doorway, a strange and ominous silence descended upon the scene as movement and gunfire from inside the building ceased.
The men exchanged wary glances as they stood and started to back up with their weapons still trained on the doorway. The sudden quiet was unnerving, a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted just moments before.
"You think we got ‘em…?" Mason asked, turning to D with a look that said he didn’t quite think they did.
With everyone back on their feet, the group started to back further away from the building and towards the intersecting alleyway, keeping their weapons pointed at the doorway. The light seemed to fill the interior, showing random office supplies scattered all over the floor and cubicles riddled with bullets.
The man who had been yanked inside gripped his weapon with shaking hands. "I don't think so..." he muttered unsteadily. "I swear I saw 5 or 6 of the fucks when they bastards pulled me in."
"Yeah, I don't like this. Let's back up a bit," D added before keying his mic loop. "Eagle 1, this is Unit 3. We have several suspects barricaded in an all-white office building north of the warehouse compound, facing Thorton Street. Requesting immediate backup, over." He barked into the radio as he kept his rifle and eyes laser-focused on the doorway.
The radio crackled to life, echoing back a response. "Unit 3, this is Eagle One. Roger that. We're guiding multiple units to your location now. Be advised we already have officers positioning themselves out front, so check your fire."
"Roger that, Eagle One. Establishing perimeter now." D acknowledged the transmission before turning to the other marshals. "Alright, let's post up on these corners and-”
Just as D finished his call for help, a figure stepped into the illuminated part of the doorway and extended their hand outwards, yelling an alien language. Suddenly several wisps of red streaks of light shot out from the darkness within. The beams snaked through the air erratically, their rounded tips glowing with an otherworldly light.
Before the men could react, the beams found their marks. Each one was struck with an incredible force, throwing them backward with heavy grunts of pain. The impact was like a sledgehammer hitting the air from their lungs and sending them sprawling to the ground.
Mason, however, managed to dive to the side at the last moment, narrowly avoiding a beam that gouged a huge chunk out of the brick wall beside him. Fueled by adrenaline, the others scrambled to the adjacent alley as they clutched at their ballistics vests, which had absorbed the brunt of the impact, as they sought cover.
More gunfire erupted from within the building as gangsters tried to capitalize on their newfound advantage. Barks of the suspects' firearms echoed throughout the confined space, and bullets pinged off the wall.
The incoming fire was inaccurate and amateur, but it was still enough to suppress the marshals as they did their best to recover from the magical onslaught. Mason, however, seemingly unscathed by the volley, quickly reloaded his rifle and pointed it at the door before squeezing the trigger. Without hesitation, the man unleashed a deafening volley into the doorway, silencing any gangsters feeling cheeky enough to run up on them.
“We got 3 marshals down!” Mason yelled into his mic loops as he kept his rifle trained on the door, trying to take a shot at any heads popping up with one hand. “I repeat, I have 3 marshals down by the white office building! I need bodies here, ASAP!”
A hand holding a pistol was stuck out behind the doorway and opened fire blindly, causing Mason to duck back into cover again. Rounds seemed to stick a lot closer to home than he was comfortable with, but he still had to keep their heads down. Sticking himself back out into harm's way, Mason opened fire again before turning his head towards his comrades to check if they were okay.
“H-hey, you guys alright!?” Mason said, twisting his head back and forth from the doorway and the other marshals.
More shots from Mason's rifle barked out as D and the others grunted and growled in pain while they pulled off their now destroyed plate carriers.
“Ya, I-” D tried to respond but ended up in a coughing fit. “Ya, I fuckin think so!” he replied as he struggled to get to his feet with one hand on his ribs, wincing in pain. “Plate caught it!”
D joined Mason in suppressing the doorway, firing his rifle while tactically minimizing his silhouette and exposing the least amount of his body as possible. Despite the pain in his ribs, he knew they had to keep the pressure on the suspects until backup arrived.
Still reeling from the impact of the red beams, the men that were hit writhed in pain as they pulled off their ballistic vests with grimaces on their faces. "Pretty sure my ribs are broken," one of them said through gritted teeth.
Mason looked over in worry. "Why the fuck are you pulling your armor off!?" he yelled, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Whatever hit us shattered the plate! It's useless now, and the broken pieces are digging into our chests.” D responded with a face tight with pain.
Just as he said, more of those red beams shot out from the doorway, causing D and Mason to snap back into cover. However, the magic snaked around the corner. Luckily, the thing had the turning radius of a bus as it slammed into the brick walls, carving out vicious chunks.
The men all looked at each other uneasily, not enjoying their chances with literally magical homing projectiles. But their dashed hopes were soon reignited when they heard a rumbling sound echoing from behind them. They turned to see a Police SWAT team Rook Armored Bulldozer rolling towards them with its front shield facing the office building and a horde of New Orleans Police behind it.
“Oh nice, we’re not gonna die!” one of the marshals quipped with a relieved grin.
The Rook came to a stop just in front of where the marshals were taking shelter, shielding them and the combination of SWAT and regular police officers behind it. "NOPD, heard you boys could use some help!" one of the officers said as he maneuvered to one of the men who was painfully holding his ribs. "You said there was an officer down!? Come on, let's get you outta here!"
Still focused on the doorway, Mason turned to one of the SWAT officers who looked like they were in charge and yelled out, "Hey! Be careful! They got a magic user in there, and we don't know how strong yet!" He emphasized the danger, knowing full well that some magic users were strong enough to take a Bradley IFV or Abrams tank.
The SWAT officer paused, his expression growing serious beneath his tactical helmet. He had seen the aftermath of magic attacks before and knew that even their armored Rook could be vulnerable if the spell were powerful enough.
"Roger that," the officer acknowledged, his voice tight with tension. He reached for his radio. "Jake, push up a bit and get out of the Rook. They got a magic user!"
The officer in the Rook, Jake, responded immediately. "Copy that. Dismounting now." The Rook's hatch popped open, and Jake emerged, his weapon at the ready.
The SWAT officer turned back to Mason. "We got this, go get your guys to EMS!" He said, taking up Mason's old position at the corner of the alleyway to suppress the doorway.
Mason nodded to the SWAT, knowing they were better equipped and had far more bodies to handle entrenched suspects. Turning to his wounded comrades, he saw the marshals were already in the process of being evacuated by a swarm of New Orleans police officers.
"Easy, easy," One officer murmured as he slung D's arm over his shoulder, supporting his weight.
Taking up the rear, Mason kept watch for any nasty surprise while the group made their way down the alley. With gunfire ringing out behind them, they made their way into the massive opening where they first attempted their arrests and saw a swarm of police interceptors and Ambulances parked all over the place.
A voice crackled to life over the loudspeaker as they made their way to the awaiting medics. "This is the NOPD! We have you surrounded! Put down your weapons and come out with your hands up!"
“Man, this went to shit…” Mason grumbled as his weapon hung loosely at his side.
***
“So... what you’re telling me is you cannot contain these magical anomalies?” A frustrated and almost infuriated voice echoed in the somber and tense meeting room.
Government officials and Agency heads were gathered around a large, round table room was somber, the tension palpable as the officials gathered around the large, rectangular table of the Situation Room. The President of the United States sat there with this finger tapping on the table in a droning and rhythmic matter that seemingly intensified the tension in the room. Lending forward in his chair at the head of the table, the president’s gaze remained fixed on the Secretary of Homeland Security, who had just delivered the grim news.
"Mr. President," the DHS Secretary began, his voice steady despite the pressure he was feeling from the intense death glare. "I am…. I’m afraid to say Operation Arcane Shield is struggling.” He said, trying his best not to break out in a cold sweat.” The intrusion of magical entities into our cities and countryside has only escalated since the Ohio attack, but monsters like the Scroungers or Kobolds are starting to tunnel into our sewer and drainage systems.”
A growl left the president’s mouth as the pen gripped in his other hand snapped in half, but the Homeland Security Secretary wasn’t finished. There was one more grave piece of news that he knew would potentially put his career at risk, but it was his duty to deliver it. Far too much was on the line if this was swept under the rug just because he was afraid to lose his job.
“But, sir…” The DHS representative spoke tentatively. “It appears that… That the humanoid beings from the other world, especially their magic users, are no longer just trying to hide among the population. Our intelligence suggests that local gangs and organized crime syndicates, including cartels and mafia groups, have made contact with some of these entities. They're harboring them in exchange for knowledge and even employing them."
The room fell deathly silent as around the table, the faces of the other officials - the Attorney General, the Directors of the FBI, ATF, DEA, and even Toivonen - paled as the implications sank in. Everyone then looked to the President and saw an unreadable face as his finger stopped mid air just before another tap.
Instead, after digesting that bombshell, the President’s first came slamming down on the table in a bout of uncontrolled fury. “What the fuck does that mean, Jim!?” the President growled dangerously, "Are you telling me we got goddamn wizard in bed with fucking dope slingers and mafia dons!?"
The DHS Secretary, Jim Falk, visibly flinched at the President's outburst. He could feel the weight of every gaze in the room upon him. Swallowing hard, he nodded and continued with a strained voice. "I'm afraid so, Mr. President. The incident in New Orleans was not an isolated case. We're seeing similar patterns in New York, Chicago, Miami, and even Houston... It's playing out all over the Eastern Seaboard and starting to creep into the West Coast."
Jim paused, his hands gripping the table's edge tightly, afraid to continue. The Attorney General, Ashleigh Carter, spoke up to get some heat off the poor man. “Mr. President, if I may.” The Attorney general raised her hand. “What's even more concerning is the number of casualties our local and federal law enforcement are sustaining in our efforts to contain this new threat. These magic-wielding criminals are proving to be far more dangerous than we anticipated."
“She’s right.” The FBI Director added with a sigh. “The reports coming across my desk... they're unlike anything I've seen in my career. Strange beams of light homed in and skewered people who weren’t wearing ballistic plates, others torn apart by unseen forces, and some were even turned against each other through some form of mind manipulation in a fit of unhinged barbarism. The situation is becoming untenable, especially when there are still tens of thousands of these individuals out there still at large."
The President's brow furrowed deeply as he processed this information. He turned to the CIA's subject matter expert on the arcane they have been heavily relying upon, Toivonen. "Miss Toivonen, what countermeasures do we have? How do we protect our people against these… things?"
Toivonen, who had been quietly observing the meeting, leaned back in her chair. "Mr. President, according to the high-level mage we've recruited, the most effective way to combat a magic user is with another magic user or, ideally, a warrior capable of manipulating mana."
She paused, her expression troubled. "The problem is, the number of trustworthy mages and warriors capable of such are... limited. We're talking single digits. And they're all being utilized in developing countermeasures and detection methods for Operation Basilisk."
The President's face darkened at the reply and brought his hands to his head to massage his temples. "So, what you're telling me," the President said, his voice low and controlled, "is that we're outgunned and outmanned on our own turf?"
A deafening silence followed the President's question that caused the officials to exchange uneasy glances. Each one of them felt the gravity of the situation weigh them down, except Toivonen. After that encounter with that god-forsaken goddess, each and every high-level meeting was getting easier and easier for her.
"Well, Mr. President," Toivonen began confidently but still cautiously. “We do have... an extreme option. If you're open to it."
The President's ears perked up, his gaze intensifying as he focused on Toivonen. "I'm listening," he said, leaning forward in his chair.
"It's still in the infancy of its planning phase, Mr. President. It's nowhere near ready, but... we believe it could work." The FBI Director spoke up, his tone measured.
Raising his hand, the President motioned for them to continue. “Go on.”
With an audible grunt, The Homeland Security Secretary, Jim Falks, cleared his throat, causing the room to turn their attention to him as he sucked in a deep breath. "Mr. President, our intelligence suggests that a good number of the magical beings at large are mercenaries. They're in it for the money and have no real ties or allegiances to anyone."
Jim paused, gathering his thoughts as he tried to find the right words to explain the complex nature of these mercenaries. "They're what we call 'freelancers,' Mr. President. They operate in a manner similar to how sellswords or mercenaries function but with a twist.”
He leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. "You see, these freelancers, they're not tied to any one organization or cause. They're independent contractors, offering their services to the highest bidder. Most of them, if not all of them, work through middlemen, handlers, and intelligence brokers of sorts, whom they call ‘taskers.' These taskers, they're the ones who have the connections to secure jobs, whether they're legitimate, sanctioned work or more... underground, criminal activities."
The President listened intently, his brow furrowed as he processed this new information. "So, these taskers, they're essentially brokers for magical mercenaries?"
"Exactly, Mr. President.” Jim nodded before as his eyes swept the room. “They have their ears to the ground, they know who's hiring and for what. And these freelancers, they're not picky. As long as the pay is good, they'll take on just about any job, no questions asked."
A sigh left the President’s mouth as his patience wore thin. "Enough beating around the bush. What exactly are you all proposing?" He snarled while lifting up his hand to indicate for the group of representatives to stop delaying.
"We've been working on something similar in nature to Operation Paperclip." Toivonen suddenly spoke up with a devious smile on her face.
***
If you'd like to read unreleased chapters and drafts, head on over to my Patreon
You can find the art of the characters Here
Join our Tactical Operations Center on Discord: https://discord.gg/qDnQfg4EX3
[First] [Previous] [Next]

Birdman defeated Lou Tennant in 10:45 

print("Hello, Python Hangman Game!") 

import random # List of potential secret words word_list = ["python", "hangman", "programming", "challenge"] # Randomly select a secret word from the list secret_word = random.choice(word_list) # Initialize variables to track guesses and attempts correct_guesses = set() incorrect_guesses = set() attempts_left = 6 # Function to display the current game state def display_game_state(): # Display the secret word with guessed letters revealed displayed_word = "".join([letter if letter in correct_guesses else "_" for letter in secret_word]) print(f"Word: {displayed_word}") print(f"Incorrect Guesses: {' '.join(incorrect_guesses)}") print(f"Attempts Left: {attempts_left}") # Main game loop while True: display_game_state() guess = input("Enter your guess: ").lower() # Check if the guess is in the secret word if guess in secret_word: correct_guesses.add(guess) # Check for win condition if set(secret_word).issubset(correct_guesses): print("Congratulations! You've guessed the word!") break else: incorrect_guesses.add(guess) attempts_left -= 1 # Check for lose condition if attempts_left == 0: print("Game Over! You've run out of attempts.") print(f"The secret word was: {secret_word}") break 

python -m tkinter 

import tkinter as tk class HangmanGame: def __init__(self, master): self.master = master self.master.title("Hangman Game") self.master.geometry("900x600") # Further GUI setup and game logic will be added here def main(): root = tk.Tk() game = HangmanGame(root) root.mainloop() if __name__ == "__main__": main() 

def initialize_gui(self): self.hangman_canvas = tk.Canvas(self.master, width=300, height=300, bg="white") self.hangman_canvas.pack(pady=20) # Additional GUI setup continues here... 

def initialize_gui(self): # Previous GUI setup code... self.word_display = tk.Label(self.master, text="_ " * len(self.secret_word), font=("Helvetica", 30)) self.word_display.pack(pady=(40, 20)) 

def initialize_gui(self): # Previous GUI setup code... self.buttons_frame = tk.Frame(self.master) self.buttons_frame.pack(pady=20) self.setup_alphabet_buttons() 

import random class HangmanGame: def __init__(self, master): self.master = master self.master.title("Hangman Game") self.master.geometry("900x600") self.word_list = ["PYTHON", "JAVASCRIPT", "KOTLIN", "JAVA", "RUBY", "SWIFT"] self.secret_word = self.choose_secret_word() self.correct_guesses = set() self.incorrect_guesses = set() self.attempts_left = 7 self.initialize_gui() def choose_secret_word(self): return random.choice(self.word_list) 

def update_hangman_canvas(self): self.hangman_canvas.delete("all") # Clear the canvas for redrawing incorrect_guesses_count = len(self.incorrect_guesses) if incorrect_guesses_count >= 1: self.hangman_canvas.create_line(50, 180, 150, 180) # Base # Additional drawing logic here for each part of the hangman 

def guess_letter(self, letter): if letter in self.secret_word and letter not in self.correct_guesses: self.correct_guesses.add(letter) elif letter not in self.incorrect_guesses: self.incorrect_guesses.add(letter) self.attempts_left -= 1 self.update_hangman_canvas() self.update_word_display() self.check_game_over() def update_word_display(self): displayed_word = " ".join([letter if letter in self.correct_guesses else "_" for letter in self.secret_word]) self.word_display.config(text=displayed_word) def check_game_over(self): if set(self.secret_word).issubset(self.correct_guesses): self.display_game_over_message("Congratulations, you've won!") elif self.attempts_left == 0: self.display_game_over_message(f"Game over! The word was: {self.secret_word}") 

def setup_alphabet_buttons(self): alphabet = "ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ" upper_row = alphabet[:13] # First half of the alphabet lower_row = alphabet[13:] # Second half of the alphabet upper_frame = tk.Frame(self.buttons_frame) upper_frame.pack() lower_frame = tk.Frame(self.buttons_frame) lower_frame.pack() for letter in upper_row: button = tk.Button(upper_frame, text=letter, command=lambda l=letter: self.guess_letter(l), width=4, height=2) button.pack(side="left", padx=2, pady=2) for letter in lower_row: button = tk.Button(lower_frame, text=letter, command=lambda l=letter: self.guess_letter(l), width=4, height=2) button.pack(side="left", padx=2, pady=2) 

def display_game_over_message(self, message): # Hide the alphabet buttons by hiding the entire buttons_frame self.buttons_frame.pack_forget() # Display the game over message in the now-empty area self.game_over_label = tk.Label(self.master, text=message, font=("Helvetica", 18), fg="red") self.game_over_label.pack(pady=(10, 20)) 

def update_hangman_canvas(self): self.hangman_canvas.delete("all") # Clear the canvas before redrawing stages = [self.draw_head, self.draw_body, self.draw_left_arm, self.draw_right_arm, self.draw_left_leg, self.draw_right_leg, self.draw_face] for i in range(len(self.incorrect_guesses)): if i < len(stages): stages[i]() # Call the drawing method for each incorrect guess 

def draw_head(self): self.hangman_canvas.create_oval(125, 50, 185, 110, outline="black") def draw_body(self): self.hangman_canvas.create_line(155, 110, 155, 170, fill="black") def draw_left_arm(self): self.hangman_canvas.create_line(155, 130, 125, 150, fill="black") def draw_right_arm(self): self.hangman_canvas.create_line(155, 130, 185, 150, fill="black") def draw_left_leg(self): self.hangman_canvas.create_line(155, 170, 125, 200, fill="black") def draw_right_leg(self): self.hangman_canvas.create_line(155, 170, 185, 200, fill="black") def draw_face(self): self.hangman_canvas.create_line(140, 70, 150, 80, fill="black") # Left eye self.hangman_canvas.create_line(160, 70, 170, 80, fill="black") # Right eye # Draw a sad mouth self.hangman_canvas.create_arc(140, 85, 170, 105, start=0, extent=-180, fill="black") 

def reset_game(self): self.secret_word = self.choose_secret_word() self.correct_guesses = set() self.incorrect_guesses = set() self.attempts_left = 7 self.hangman_canvas.delete("all") self.update_word_display() for frame in self.buttons_frame.winfo_children(): for button in frame.winfo_children(): button.configure(state=tk.NORMAL) if hasattr(self, 'game_over_label'): self.game_over_label.destroy() 

def initialize_gui(self): # Existing GUI setup code... # Add reset game button self.reset_button = tk.Button(self.master, text="Reset Game", command=self.reset_game) self.reset_button.pack(pady=(10, 0)) 

def __init__(self, master): self.master = master self.master.title("Hangman Game") self.master.geometry("900x650") # Rest of code… 

def display_game_over_message(self, message): # Hide the reset button self.reset_button.pack_forget() # Hide the alphabet buttons and display the game over message self.buttons_frame.pack_forget() self.game_over_label = tk.Label(self.master, text=message, font=("Helvetica", 18), fg="red") self.game_over_label.pack(pady=(10, 20)) # Display the Restart button self.restart_button = tk.Button(self.master, text="Restart Game", command=self.reset_game, width=20, height=2) self.restart_button.pack(pady=(10, 20)) 

def reset_game(self): # Re-show the reset button self.reset_button.pack(pady=(10, 0)) # Reset game state and GUI elements as previously outlined # Hide the game over label and the Restart button when the game is reset if hasattr(self, 'game_over_label') and self.game_over_label.winfo_exists(): self.game_over_label.pack_forget() if hasattr(self, 'restart_button') and self.restart_button.winfo_exists(): self.restart_button.pack_forget() # Ensure the alphabet buttons frame and other interactive elements are visible again self.buttons_frame.pack() 

def __init__(self, master): self.master = master self.master.title("Hangman Game") self.master.geometry("900x650") self.master.configure(bg='light blue') # Set the background color # Remaining initialization code... 

def initialize_gui(self): # Existing code... self.word_display = tk.Label(self.master, text="_ " * len(self.secret_word), font=("Helvetica", 30), bg='light blue') self.word_display.pack(pady=(40, 20)) 

def display_game_over_message(self, message): # Existing code... self.game_over_label = tk.Label(self.master, text=message, font=stylish_font, fg="red", bg='light blue') self.game_over_label.pack(pady=(10, 20)) 

def setup_alphabet_buttons(self): # Custom button appearance button_bg = "#4a7a8c" # Example: a nice shade of blue button_fg = "white" # Text color button_font = ("Helvetica", 12, "bold") # Example: bold Helvetica font # Setup code for upper and lower rows... for letter in upper_row: button = tk.Button(upper_frame, text=letter, command=lambda l=letter: self.guess_letter(l), width=4, height=2, bg=button_bg, fg=button_fg, font=button_font) button.pack(side="left", padx=2, pady=2) # Repeat for lower_row buttons... 

def initialize_gui(self): # Existing code... button_bg = "#4a7a8c" button_fg = "white" button_font = ("Helvetica", 12, "bold") self.reset_button = tk.Button(self.master, text="Reset Game", command=self.reset_game, width=20, height=2, bg=button_bg, fg=button_fg, font=button_font) self.reset_button.pack(pady=(10, 0)) def display_game_over_message(self, message): # Existing code... button_bg = "#4a7a8c" button_fg = "white" button_font = ("Helvetica", 12, "bold") if not hasattr(self, 'restart_button'): self.restart_button = tk.Button(self.master, text="Restart Game", command=self.reset_game, width=20, height=2, bg=button_bg, fg=button_fg, font=button_font) self.restart_button.pack(pady=(10, 20)) 

def display_game_over_message(self, message): # Existing code... stylish_font = ("Arial", 18, "italic") self.game_over_label = tk.Label(self.master, text=message, font=stylish_font, fg="red", bg='light blue') self.game_over_label.pack(pady=(10, 20)) 

I'm wondering if any of your official Little Leagues have gone to/are able to go to a combination of player and coach pitching at bats, and what type of combination(s) you use etc...? This is for what we call "minors," basically the league above full-on coach pitch, where the ages are league year 8 and 9 year olds.
I didn't get to see our minors boys this year, as I was helping coach my son's team in his last year of majors, and my daughter was in her first year of minors softball, but I know for minors softball I feel there needed to be a comination of coach/player pitching like they did in her summer league last summer (That was not affiliated with Little League). In that league, I believe they did a combination of the player pitching 5-6 pitches. If you struck out you struck out. OR if you got to 3 balls, the coach then came in for two pitches, I can't remember exactly. And tbh, thinking back to when my boy was in minors, they could have used something similar there.
I just feel it's a game between the pitcher, catcher, runner and third base coach, with no one else on the field getting much action, and as a member of our board, I'm thinking it could be something I can suggest at our next meeting near the end of this month. I'd rather not ask the questions there, but go ahead and go into the meeting after hearing from others what works etc... and being prepared to deliver solid suggestions.
Thank you.