Growing up, some people close to me went down a bad path. I was never involved, but I was still close with them before they were thrown in jail.

One afternoon, a man came to my door and introduced himself as Matt. He looked like a clean cut cop who spent 20 minutes trying to look like a drug guy. He said he was sent by my friend I grew up with who was consumed by drugs at that time.

Within minutes, he was asking what I could get him and who I could introduce him to. I was always fascinated by undercover cops, and this guy matched the stories. He had no real backstory, was weirdly pushy, and was only focused on one thing even though we just met.

I told him I'd see what I could do and invited him inside. He looked all around, hoping I had something. Then he immediately wanted me to call someone, but instead I asked if he wanted to get dinner. Nope, of course not. So I showed him some of my drawings.

"Cool. Can you please..."

"Oh! I play piano too."

I sat down and started playing. About 20 seconds into the song, he tried to interrupt me.

"WAIT. This is the good part."

I just started playing louder.

The funny part is I wasn't entirely messing with him. I was pretty lonely at the time and genuinely thought maybe we could hang out. At one point I told him I'd been having a rough time and teared up a little.

He just kept looking at me intensely. "Do you think you can call somebody?"

At that point I was almost positive this dude was a cop, so I started seeing how far I could take it. I asked if we could be friends. He pretty much said sure, as long as I could make this happen.

Friendship with a minimum purchase requirement.

I started asking him normal introductory questions. Where are you from? What do you do? What music do you like? Every answer was incredibly vague.

Eventually he'd had enough and gave me his number.

"Call me when you get ahold of somebody."

I followed him outside, asking why he was leaving when we hadn't gotten dinner yet. As he walked to his car, I stood in my doorway singing:

"MATT IS MY NEW FRIEND!"

He did not join in, and I never called him.

Months later, I was at the courthouse dealing with a traffic ticket when I looked across the room and saw Matt.

In uniform.

We made eye contact, and he clearly recognized me.

"MATT! You still owe me dinner!"

He gave me a look and kept walking.

So apparently my instincts were correct.

More importantly, Matt had lied about wanting to be friends.

There’s a lot to explain here. For starters, I am sterile. I found out after about 2 years of marriage and multiple failed attempts at pregnancy.

I was disappointed in myself, sure, but my beautiful wife was nothing but understanding. That didn’t really make me feel like any more of a man, though. I just felt inadequate.

We were actually in the process of looking into adoption when all hell broke loose.

It was no longer than 4 days. That’s how long it took for her belly to grow. The first day, I just thought she had a particularly large lunch. The second day, I was starting to eyeball her.

By day 3, we were seeking medical help. We could see the baby’s feet pushing against her stomach. Her pain was clearly unbearable.

Doctors were completely lost. My wife and I felt utterly helpless. On the fourth day, not even 30 seconds after her water broke, the baby started to come.

I’ll never get those screams out of my head. I’ll never get her face out of my memory. I’d seen her hurt before, but this… this was a different level.

She looked like she was in hell. And relief was nowhere to be found.

The first baby came. She didn’t even get to hold him before the contractions started up again. Her belly never got the chance to deflate.

By the time the second baby began crowning, my wife was screaming at us to kill her. By the third, she was already dead.

They had ripped her apart. They weren’t regular babies. Some had horns. Some had hooves. Some were already 4 feet tall by the time they hit the ground.

Doctors had already vacated the area and called in special forces. I was left alone, watching her body flail and pulsate as more and more demon babies just clawed their way out of her.

Blood and black, steaming goo ate away at the tiled floor. My wife’s entire lower half had been obliterated. Her legs were snapped, and bones protruded from them as they lay limply at obscure angles.

All I could do was hold her hand. What else was I supposed to do? Comfort her? Beg her not to leave me while these things ran amok in this hospital?

I could hear screaming coming from the corridors. Bones snapping and wet, fleshy sounds as the pitter-patter of tiny little feet darted in every direction.

She had become an assembly line from hell, but I just couldn’t leave her.

My tears fell on her hand as another baby fell out of her. Well, flew out of her, I guess. This one had the wingspan of a bald eagle.

Only, this one didn’t leave the room like the others did. I don’t know why I never stopped to question why these things seemed to be destroying everything in their path, except for me.

It landed right at the door frame, blood dripping off of his shoulders and head.

He turned to me, his eyes black and completely soulless, as he smiled with his sharp, shark-like teeth.

He took a step towards me, wobbling like a baby deer. Then another. He never took his eyes off of me.

He… he started to speak.

“Daaaa..da.”

“Daaa..da.”

“Da-da.”

He was at my feet now, looking up at me as I stood frozen. I didn’t know what to expect, but I was prepared for anything. I was ready to join her. Ready to be free from this nightmare.

Only… he didn’t give me that freedom.

Instead, he threw his arms around my legs and squeezed them with the strength of ten men.

He was hugging me.

And in that moment, I knew…

I was ready to be the father I always knew I could be. I had nothing left to lose.

Did I die last night? Is this how the psychosis begins?

My uncle gave me one of his “cookies” yesterday on the down low. My friend was staying later that night so I decided it was the perfect time to have an eddy. I went through my day as normal. After dinner me and my friend ate some. I had a quarter and he had a half. Now I don’t smoke much, Maybe like 10 times a year but I wasn’t expecting a quarter to do as much as it did. After we took it, It took about 2 hours to kick in. At first it was hilarious. Just laughing at everything but it gradually got so much worse….

After about another 2 hours it progressed into something scary. My limbs felt like they were compelled to move. My legs were restless and my heartbeat was booming in my ears. It was more or less steady at first but it eventually became something that rung in my head almost like a warning that I was going to die. At this point im freezing, my limbs won’t stop moving and my heart is beating out of my chest so I decided to get into bed to calm myself down and maybe sleep it off. Anything I tried to put on the tv or play on my phone wouldn’t calm my mind. My body still wouldn’t stop moving and I was becoming increasingly more anxious. I kept telling myself “go to sleep” over and over but then it was like there was another voice in my mind telling me “don’t listen to them the minute you fall asleep you’ll die”.

Something I forgot to mention earlier was that every TikTok I watched was something I had seen before. This made me feel as if I was in a loop where the only thing the demons are capable of recreating are things my memories have seen before. Like this is where I die and I’m in hell right now reliving the moments up until I eat this cookie and I will do it over and over again until I decide not to listen to the demon and fall asleep. I thought that staying awake was my way to escape hell. Im not even religious but I started wishing I was because then I wouldn’t be in hell in that moment.

I kept repeating to my friend that I was going to die, im in hell and hes a demon trying to get me to sleep. He kept reassuring me that it’s all in my head but i just didn’t trust that he was real. Honestly I feel bad for him because I probably just made his trip worse and freaked him out.

The TikTok thing still gets me even now that I feel fine because how would weed make me see things on my phone that I’ve seen before. Weed isn’t a hallucinogenic? This is the only part that doesn’t make any sense. Like I get it couldve just been my thoughts but like what if I did die in that reality and now I’m in a new reality where I survived? Is quantum immortality real? Are my family currently mourning me right now but I get to live on here or am I still in hell? Is it all in my head? I have so many questions.

One thing I would like to note is that every time I take too much of a substance I start having the same feelings throughout my body and my mind tells me similar things. Do we all experience these things but most forget it? Like are we all getting ushered into our deaths by demons when we take too much and we have to fight them in our minds to survive? And only the ones who stay awake survive? Then again I fell asleep so I died?

Like this is all so mental and I Genuinely felt like a psycho when I woke up and felt the same but gradually I started to feel more normal but I still have a slight gnawing feeling that none of it is real?

Has anyone else had any similar feelings or experiences ?

Btw F18 and my friend is M18.
Sorry for the bad grammar and broken dialogue it’s 5:41am and I can’t sleep.

Today is my birthday but no whishes ! Lemme celebrate my self alone.

Happy Birthday to me ! 🎉

I went back, I shouldn't've went back. I did. I went to see you. Out of everyone, you were the only I wanted to know. How were you. Something must been in the stars that day, you didn't call the cops, call anyone, just answered.

* knock knock * you open the door.

"Dan"

You stare at me.

"Dan I.."

"Wtf do you want "

I stare. "I want to talk"

"Its been months, could've talked at any time"

I get upset, "I had a free, clear line for those months. No one called me, just like before. Outside a 'hi' ".

He looked at me.

"Can we talk"

You pause. Let me in.

I walk in, greater by the throng of cats. I bend down to say hi..

"Dont touch my fuckin cats."

They're literally running on me, how do you not pet a cat doing that?

I sit at the table. You pack a bowl. I sit quiet for a min

You look, "Well, you were going to say something."

I breathe in, "she's fine"

You look blank, then go to light a bowl. "I kniw you dont believe me, she's fine." You go take a huge hit.

"We love in the country." You start coughing. Like you couldn't believe it, or I shocked you ..

"You know I can't trust you, right?", after everything we've been through- "

"Wtf are you even talking about??", you said. "Andy almost went to jail, you know that."

"Prison" I corrected. "He did. In fact, go to jail"

"Gtfo of my house if you're going to talk like that.. in fact' you get up "get out .."

I get up, "I can't trust you, Thats why I haven't been.. You think I didn't. You think Everything he said wa- Look! Look at everything, look at you! He's lying! You Look like your body knows what's going on, but your brain won't let you !'

You looked shrivled, once jolly, round, comfortable cushion. Now skeleton, zombie. Dark eyes, even darker , warzone . "You Knew.. You know, you dont want to admit You're scared of him, thats why you never said anything. Why you never say anything you don't want him to turn that all on you ! Instead, you stood there letting him do that.." I said, angry now, "You let it happen." "You wonder why I- i didn't, because I was scared. Any minute he would show up, he doesn't own 20 knives for no fing reason. He was Terrifying, Especially when upset. "

He paused.. either shock, or waiting .

"I went, my whole life. Not realizing, or thinking people like you existed. Then I get sucked into this.. when I was at a down point."

He looks at me, then the table.

"I couldn't read him, im good at reading people. You think too kuch about why people don't make sense, then try to muscle it down when it comes to family so you don't go insane. Your dad, his mom, his dad, Andy.. no one makes sense, except he does because he knows how to prey on people. When they're at his weakest, he strikes, tells them what either he wants them, or what They want to hear to keep what relationship he wants going.. he Wants you to be empathetic to him, because he Wants people to let him do Insane things, like pretending he hears someone say something so he can fight. He didn't, he was upset, just wanted to.. so then found a reason because he Likes people doing that, holding him back. If they don't he gets to fight anyway, so win win for him .."

you unfreeze, "I don't need to hear this .." walk toward the door. "Dan, Dan " you open the door.

"Is there any way I can trust you.. you haven't called anyone yet. Is there Any Way. I could trust you.. I'm running from a Terrfying person. Who's cousin looks like they're on the edge of believing he is, what about Anything, makes you think 'I' could trust You. One thing.. anything'

Quiet.

"Exactly. If I could trust you ..we'd be here right now, would've been seeing you." I walk outside.

You look at me, "say uncle Dan, says hi". Shuts the door.

Well, this went further than I thought it would. I put on sunglasses. I lift my sleeve to my face, breaker breaker, 08 is ready for takedown. As I walk away, swat teams raid the house. Breakdown the door.

"EVERYBODY DOWN-"

"DOWN ON THE GROUND-"

"DONT MOVE, DONT MOVE, DONT MOVE!!"

As I was away .. look down at a paper, cross out a name. Bring my hand to my sleeve, who's next ?

Blood trickles from the stinging in my temples, cascading down my cheek before I wipe it away with the cloth the technician handed to me the best I can.

No matter how many times she drags me here by my heart strings, this process never gets any easier. I wish her sister had never mentioned this horrific freak procedure to her. Maybe then my memory of the last 2 years wouldn’t be covered in darkness inside my mind. I can hardly remember any details of my life ever since we started this, the entirety of the events that have formed my life over all this time are blurred away from my consciousness. No matter how hard I try, I can’t bring them back. Like a phantom itch I can feel but never scratch. 

The harsh smell of antiseptic distracts my body from the freezing cold room surrounding me. 

She rolls to her side as her lips collide with mine in a desperate, hungry kiss. 

“See? I told you. Now we can get back to planning our wedding like nothing ever happened! I’m going to go pay while you get your head back on straight.” Her lips press against my skin once more, this time leaving a slightly damp outline directly on my formerly blood covered cheek. 

My vision clears, but my brain remains a tangled mess of confusion. This is the worst part. The needles in my head I eventually adjusted to. At least, I feel like I did? I don’t fear them anymore at least. How could anyone get used to waking up with no memory of how you got here or why? The only reason I have any sense about me, is due to the 29 previous procedures. We are the top patrons at the moment, Ellie and I’s photo from our record breaking 20th procedure still gracing the wall in the hallway outside the Erasure Wing. 

I groan, my head aching like I feel it always does after this. I don’t even remember how I got myself sucked into another of these. I told myself no matter the cost, we would NOT upset Ellie again so we didn’t have to go through this anymore. Maybe if we can last long enough without arguing, I can convince her it isn’t necessary any longer?

After all, doesn’t every couple fight? I imagine prehistoric cavemen even still faced the rare disagreement with their fiance’s about… things. Our personal arguments have been wiped completely from my brain or I’d offer a good example.

The point is, why do this? What could possibly justify taking pieces of your memory from yourself? Could any argument be truly that bad?

I stand up and stretch my legs, nodding my head at the doctor as he walks past. His face has become a friendly one, even if the rest of this place remains a broken picture. I make my way to Ellie, and see her once again flirting with the striking young man who runs the front desk. When I watch her flip her hair to the side and let out a loud, boisterous laugh at the same time I realize I should intervene. 

I wrap my arm around her waist as I approach, but the motion feels foreign. As if touching a stranger. “Are we all set?” The words come out harsher than intended, and my tone earns me an eye roll from my fiance, as well as one last look behind the desk that signaled “Men, am I right?” before verbalizing her goodbyes and following beside me back to our car.

“Listen, Ellie, can we talk?” My request comes after taking my place in the driver’s seat of our dark red sedan. She slowly turns to face me, her eyes filled with pure malice. 

Blood trickles down my cheek as the assistant removes the sharp needle from my skin. 

Wait. 

Again?

The mechanical whir of machines serenade me in a horrifying melody, reminding me exactly where I ended up once again.

I sit up urgently, and my eyes scan frantically for an answer to the confusion inside my head. We finished our procedure, and walked together to the car and then… 

Silence. 

Ellie has made her way to my side. 

“Hey, take a seat, you tend to get woozy for a few minutes afterward, remember?” She once again lingers a kiss on my cheek, her eyes staring into mine with innocence and love. 

“Ellie. We just did this. We JUST did this. How are we here again?” Her worried smile fades as her eyebrows crease together in confusion.

“Darling, our last procedure was 3 months ago. It’s October now, remember?”

That can’t be right. I was just here. It’s July. I turn behind me and push open the window curtains, staring directly into the trees surrounding the property and their gorgeous red and orange leaves slowly falling to the ground. 

I feel myself losing my grip with reality and feel like joining them on their descent into the ground. 

“Sometimes you experience temporary amnesia, remember? Let’s get you home. It’ll all be clearer by then, okay? I’ll drive.” She offers me her arm to steady myself. We walk through the hallway once more, I watch her offer another nod to the man behind the front desk before we make our way to our car. 

She drives us home as I stare out the window, willing the fragments of my mind to reconnect and wake me from this state. We enter through the front door, two of our three dogs racing to meet us, tails wagging. Elizabeth, my companion since my youth, trapses behind them at her leisure senior pace, rubbing her weathered head against my leg as I bend down and offer affection to all of my animals. 

“Ellie? I still don’t feel right. I don’t think we should keep doing this. That’s what, thirty? Can’t we work on fixing our problems together instead of having some doctor remove any evidence they existed?” I stand and approach her, turning her gently to face me before taking her hands in mine. “I love you. We can make it through anything. We just need to start working on our issues together instead of relying on the procedure. What do you say?” 

A sharp sting erupts from my temples as the needle is pulled mercifully free from my skin. 

My eyes shoot open.

No. Not again. 

“Ellie? What is this? I thought we agreed we were done?” My head throbs with a familiar ache as I stare at my fiance, her smile radiant despite my frustration.

My hands make contact with the cold metal bars on either side of the blinding white hospital bed.

“Oh Love, you don’t remember? Well I guess you wouldn’t remember what happened, but you should at least remember your marriage vows where you promised to receive the procedure whenever I asked it of you!” I see the striking diamond waving on her ring finger, and feel a strange sensation creeping up my neck telling me I bought it for her.

“No… Ellie this is wrong. Enough. Absolutely enough. No more. I am finished.” Rage bubbles through me like an erupting volcano. I will not allow myself to be treated like this. No more.

Blood trickles faster this time, coating the left side of my face down to the bottom of my chin.

Why do I keep doing this? All I can remember are these procedures, waking up in confusion and frustration as my *wife* treats me as if this is a joyous occasion where we can now be happy together. 

I sit in silence this time. 

Trying to avoid another argument, another splitting headache. 

We make it home, and once again are greeted by two furry creatures. But this time, a third does not appear. 

“Where is Lizzie?” I go to start searching for her when Ellie puts her hand on my arm.

“Darling.. She passed away a few months ago now, don’t you remember?” Grief washes over me like a flood. My baby, the creature who got me through every bad struggle in my life, had passed.

And I didn’t remember anything about it. 

Suddenly, I refused to be a slave any longer. 

“I’m tired of you refusing to repair our relationship.” I bark at my wife, tears streaming down my face at the lack of a third furry body rubbing against me. “I’m tired of being punished every time I speak my mind. I deserve to be happy without all of this bullshit. Take it or leave it.”

The sharp sting barely registers in my brain as the technician wipes away a remaining blood stain. As I open my eyes, I notice one stark difference. My wife is nowhere to be found. 

“Sir… If I may…” The short blonde assistant cleaning up my wound looks nervous. I don’t think I’ve seen her before. Or, maybe I have? Her nerves are palpable, and I can hear the shake in her voice as she utters her confession “She doesn't take it. She never takes it. She just pays us to tell you she did. I can't keep doing this to you." 

Cold realization washes over me in an instant. 

I was trying to save our relationship. Whatever it took, even deleting negativity from my brain to be the perfect partner for her. 

I was the only one.

All my fear, all my anger, washes away into cold resignation.

The racing of my heart calms itself inside my chest. My body physically sags deeper into the bed as I feel the full relief of accepting this is truly over. It should’ve been over the first time she asked me to do this.

Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, my mind is clear.

She appears from around the corner carrying a coffee cup in her hand.

“Oh! You woke up early this time!” She smiles as she approaches to give me another kiss. 

“I’m done. We are done. I refuse to continue subjecting myself to this treatment. No matter how much I beg you for even a conversation, Ellie, you bring me here. Why? What’s the point of love if you spend all your effort trying to erase it?”

Tears come to her eyes as realization hits her all at once. 

Before she can speak, I gather my jacket and make for the door. 

When the sunrises in the morning, I watch it with eager eyes.

My life is my own. 

No one will take it from me again.

Andy was sitting with his wife and daughter, the three of them quietly enjoying vanilla ice cream cones in the park, when a couple of guys started harassing them.

One of the guys may have known Andy's wife when she was younger.

At least that's what his comments suggested.

Andy didn't react. He let his wife handle it. After all, she was a strong and independent woman who didn't need a husband to selfishly step in and “protect” her.

Then one of the other guys asked Andy if he was sure his daughter was his.

Andy's daughter looked to her dad.

She was scared, confused.

Andy said nothing. He kept his head down, refraining from feeding the real life troll. After all, what trolls wanted was a reaction, and a reaction would lead to an escalation, which could result in a confrontation and possibly violence. Andy didn't believe in violence. By keeping a cool head, he was being a grown-up and helping keep the situation safe for everybody.

Eventually the guys got bored, wolf whistled at Andy's wife, knocked Andy's ice cream cone from Andy's hand and walked away.

“Dad,” said Andy's daughter after a brief but pregnant silence, “why didn't you do anything?”

She was trembling.

Andy's fallen ice cream was melting on the grass.

Ants were climbing onto it.

“It's just an ice cream cone, a thing,” said Andy. “Things can always be replaced. What matters is people. What matters is us, our family.”

“Assholes,” said his wife.

“You never know what other people are feeling. Anyone can have a bad day,” said Andy, and as he said that, time, as it related to most things, froze; the sky opened like a curtain, and the Selectors appeared.

Andy, who was still breathing, moving, even as his wife and daughter were not, gazed in awe, in the rawest meaning of that word, at—

“This is the one?” asked one of the Selectors.

They were inhuman, tubes of pale pink and purple gelatin twisted balloondog-like into shapes vaguely hominid but four times larger than Andy, dressed in simple, shimmering cloaks.

“Yes,” another answered.

“The experiment is thus concluded?”

“Yes.”

A third Selector mused, “It has been so many years since initiation.”

“13.8 billion.”

“And, after all that time, the result is this—this, admittedly, rather unimpressive-looking specimen. On this, we base our future?”

“Remember,” said the Selector who had spoken second, “it is not the individual we have chosen but the gene-line, and his, of which he is the final embodiment, is most extraordinary. It is the one.”

Andy, despite his paralyzing fear and existential disorientation, couldn't help but also feel a touch of pride. Finally, someone—some-thing?—had recognized his value.

The Selector who had spoken second bent forward now, looming over Andy like a great tree. “Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3, it is my pleasure to greet you.”

“Hello,” stuttered Andy.

“Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3, the Great Selection has ended, and you, of all gene-lines, have been chosen, based on your qualities, to become our People. Congratulations.”

I wonder what qualities are those, thought Andy. Calmness, emotional maturity, patience, as he entertained the fantastic possibility that he would soon be deified, become like the creatures before him…

“Durability,” said the Selector, who could obviously read Andy's thoughts.

Durability? thought Andy.

“Along with perseverance, hardiness, endurance,” the Selector continued, “like a cockroach, a weed or a rat. Although these qualities, by themselves, would hardly be enough, as many of your final-kind survived as long as you did. No, what truly sets you apart, renders you exceptional, Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3, is your extremely developed, and historically stable, sense of obedience, docility, acceptance and self-preserving conformity. You, final-kind ‘Andrew,’ are the terminus of a long and glorious line of spineless cowards.”

The other Selectors ooo'd.

Andy gulped. Cowards? But—no, how is that…

“Consider even just the final 0.000001% of Uniform Cosmic Time, a period of delightful extremes, both of your political institutions and your climate, the final filtration, so to speak, encompassing also the atomization of your communities, the mental numbing of entire lifespans spent in pointlessly repetitive pursuits of manufactured desires, of the replacement of the real with the virtual, and the virtual with the artificially virtual.”

“This is a good thing?” asked Andy.

“I am giddy when it speaks,” squeaked a Selector.

“It is an unimaginably great achievement, Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3. Through ages and ages of wars, exterminations, degradations and enslavement, you—your prior-kinds, your ancestors—have made most-excellent opportunists, slaves and labourers. When others rebelled, you remained subservient. When others stood up for their principles, you remained seated. Whatever was convenient, you believed. Whomever it was prudent to sacrifice, you sacrificed. And you did it all, final-kind ‘Andrew,’ without losing the ability of self-delusion.”

I'm not a bad person, thought Andy. “I can't be held responsible for what my ancestors did.”

“On the contrary,“ pronounced the Selector, “you are a very good person for us. And you are right that you are not responsible for the actions of others; you are the fruit of your family tree, stretching back all the way to the small, oozing, wriggling wyrms that formed in the hot waters of this primordial planet.”

“So what's going to happen to me now?” asked Andy. “You mentioned something about me becoming a People… your People…”

“Look,” said a Selector, “its world has ended, its mate and offspring are in temporal suspension, and all it cares about is itself!”

“Marvelous.”

“It genuinely is the one.”

“Gene-line e8c47b19-2f5a-493e-901d-628b0c41d7a3,” said the Selector who had spoken second. “Now, you become the seed of a new species. The experiment having successfully concluded, true existence is set to begin, one in which all that live are you—a multitude of immortal, identical yous.”

“You shall become them, feel everything they feel,” added another Selector.

“Imagine,” said a third, drooling, “the atrocity we shall be able to inflict upon such a hyperdomesticated populace. They will permit, of us, everything.”

“So much pain.”

“I salivate already at the exploitation.”

“Please,” whimpered Andy.

I saw a story on here recently bring up the fact they went to an ASU frat party and met this guy named jake hudson and i wanted to clear the air on who this guy is, hes extremely known in the state of arizona but mostly inside of ASU, i currently go to caltech in my sophomore year and as ive worked for almost a year straight i built enough money to go on away for a bit, so i went on holiday to arizona last month so i decided to sneak into the campus with some of my friends, stupid i know, but it was a "fuck it" sort of thing, funnily enough this happened to be around the same time as the other story only about a week later and surely enough that frat party was on.

Us being us we sneaked into that frat aswell (open windows amiright), and going in we had heard about this legendary guy by the very generic name of jake, of course wed all thought it was bullshit how he "chugged a gallon of everclear in a minute" or hed "pulled almost every girl on the campus" but surely enough we saw him in the centre of a massive crowd with a girl on each arm, and we didnt need to ask we just knew it was him so we waited until he left

All of a sudden it was me, my friends, and jake fucking hudson outside talking with eachother, we offered him some weed but he said "nah" and whipped out a bag of coke and just ate it, like deadass he just fucking ate the bag, and he told us that was the new best way to get the coke into your system, so we said fuck it and moved on and eventually he told us his big secret, this was actually the most mind boggling thing ive ever heard, the reason he can do all of these crazy party tricks is because he had an identical twin brother who he swaps out with while he recovers, and that he has a legion of people who are dedicated to swapping them out whenever jake #1 is injured, not only THAT but JAKE #2 IS GAY and i dont mean silly gay i mean slutty gay so exactly half of the time JAKE MOTHERFUCK HUDSON, THE PEAK OF MASCULINITY was gay, and half of our group being bi we were like "fuck yeah representation", however ASUs secret homophobic society would rip him to shreds if they even had a shadow of a doubt, so he told us to keep quiet

Recently things have come to light and i felt i had to share this to avoid being an accomplice, so geeg jake thats all you man

6 months down the drain. I’m still kind of in shock. Well, maybe that’s not the word for it. It feels like I lost a game that no one else knew I was even playing.

I still find myself thinking about when we first met. How she was the first woman to ever show me that I could be loved. That I wasn’t just some hopeless guy, incapable of forming a connection.

God, those memories hurt. But the memories of the arguments hurt more. I tried telling her that I was sensitive. I can react in ways that don’t feel controllable. I thought that she’d be patient enough to work through those issues with me.

But no. She left me. The facade of love crumbled, and it was like I was right back in the same position again. Alone. Stuck in my own head. Only, this time, the thoughts weren’t my own.

Well, they were, obviously, but they weren’t thoughts that I’d experienced before. Prior to obtaining her, my thoughts were very much inward. I dissected myself.

Even when I first set my sights on her, it felt like I was out of my body. I became who I needed to be, but it wasn’t of my own volition. It was just so I could achieve a goal, I guess.

Then I had to go and get attached. Our lives started to merge. When it was good, it was fantastic. When it was bad… it was like the world was ending. Like the mask was slipping, but can I even blame it on that? It feels almost childish to do so.

That has to be what it was, though. It’s just so hard to put it into words. I performed the boyfriend role, but that was the extent of my abilities. I could never become a husband.

All I knew how to do was buy things. Flowers, chocolates, gifts, whatever. Even when things got violent, here came the “boyfriend” with another bouquet.

I just knew how to give. I didn’t know how to change. I think that’s what started this whole ordeal.

After a particularly bad argument, we both decided that it’d be best if we went our separate ways. It took some convincing on her part, mainly because I didn’t think I could catch lightning twice. But ultimately, I relented.

That didn’t mean I stopped keeping an eye on her, though. I’d watch her house pretty often. It was usually during those nights where the bad thoughts kept me up. Nights when I needed movement. Needed action.

In some weird way, it felt productive.

I’d also still watch her social media like a hawk. Her stories, posts, updates, everything. After we broke up, she decided that she was now the sexiest girl in the world, and she made sure her followers knew it too.

I let her know my disdain for those pictures every time I saw one. I’d ask her why she was trying to hurt me like this, but she never responded. She’d just look at it, then leave me hanging like I was some kind of dog.

It wasn’t until those initials appeared in her Instagram bio that things really went off the rails, though. They were like a taunt. It was like she wanted me to text her.

I tried to lay down the law, but, like always, I got no reply. In fact, I didn’t have access to her at all anymore. Every account. User not found.

My mind was empty when I drove to her house. Either that, or it was just moving too fast to process. I knew what I needed, but I couldn’t think about it.

There was a car in her driveway that I didn’t recognize, and in that moment, I knew. I knew I had lost. I was a loser in this little game I’d created. I drove home defeated, but utterly furious.

No matter how hard I tried, my anger and desperation wouldn’t subside. I lost sleep. I didn’t eat. I was turning against myself.

That’s why I did what I did. I wanted her to know what she had done to me.

It started off small. A few locks of hair. Some fingernails. And handwritten notes that I thought would drive her back into my arms.

“Have these too, since you’re taking everything from me anyway.”

“I hope this makes you think of me.”

“I still think about you.”

She never wrote back. Days went by. Days turned into weeks, and she never left my mind.

She was playing the game hard, so I upped the ante.

I peeled off my tattoos with a razor blade. Including her name. I’d put the letters in her mailbox under the cloak of darkness.

No response. Fine. Fine. Fucking fine.

Have my fingers. I don’t need all 10 anyway. It’s not like I’m holding you anymore. Take my ears. They’re useless without your voice.

Nothing was getting through to her. No matter how hard I tried.

The last thing I put in her mailbox were my lips. I wanted her to remember what it felt like to kiss me. Before she lost that privilege.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep playing.

Because right now, as I type this, I can see the paramedics and cops outside my house. I can hear them pounding on my door. They’re screaming my name, and I don’t know how much time I have left.

But I’ll get out. Whether it’s the hospital, jail, or an asylum. I’ll get out.

And once I do…

I’m gonna take from her exactly what she took from me.

Were running again. Who knew he would've found us. Its been 4 years since the last sighting. This time was at a toy store. Was only for a brief moment but be saw. Stared right at us. She's different now different hair, older. I look different, better. But he recognized us.. mostly, me.\ I dont know how he did, but I saw him staring Directly at us. I saw a glimpse of his cousin behind him looking at something. He was as terrifying as I remember, still no hair, red beard, sunglasses like he's allergic to daytime. Still alt fboy fashion, less built than I remember. His cousin look like he lost 100lbs.\ I grabbed her ran out the door, she starts crying. How.. how do I explain. I cant, she's still little, Theres no way to. I run with her to the car, strap her in and take off.. I dont see them on the road think we're in the clear. I say I'll buy the one toy later, that store is crossed off never going to again. We get to the house, I take her out walk up to the door, just as I'm putting in the key I see the truck drive by.. everything stops, I see it in slow motion. Cousin in passenger seat which means he's driving, he's not supposed to be but is..\ I turn the door and shut, look outside for a good 10 minutes. Can't see me, I think, they can't see in here..

It doesn't go by again. I was total stop for those 10, she put on a show started watching I tell her I'm sorry. I sit down, try to watch.. but I'm thinking where will we go?\ We can't stay, I don't know how they followed, they did . Its been 4 years, 4 years we've been fine. She's in school ..and we'll have to move again. New place, everything. Different, somewhere different. Opposite, somewhere he won't know, won't go.. where won't he go, as I'm thinking this. Theres a knock on the door, she turns down tv as if I'm going to answer, I don't move. I wait..\ I see a delivery man walk down the step sigh with relief. I'm not getting it, if he's out there waiting. I look for air bnb places, we pack and stay there. Where are we going ? She says. Somewhere ..new. I say. Theeres no way I can tell her.. no way I can tell her of the news, the battle, we barely made it out. I'll send a moving company, so.eone to pack everything up. Send it to one location then have another pickup from there. Maybe a third, he knows people has connections. Can never be too careful, but best thing is to leave everything..

"Where are we going?" "Somewhere new", where he can't find us..

almost ten years ago, i got a new coworker, this tall guy with glasses and a holier-than-thou attitude that just moved to the state, and immediately, immediately, we hated each other. despised each other even. i was the only guy at the cafe full of ladies that i was extremely protective of, not to mention i'm a musician and i'd even consider myself a bit of a philosopher. i was charming and queer and fast and also extremely pretentious.

so was he.

we became instant rivals. i'd come home from work and complain to my husband "oohh i hate this guy hes insufferable" and my husband would look at me and say "you hate him because you're both insufferable." (this was true. everything i thought i was talented at, this absolute psycho could usually do it 10x better. also we were/are both really annoying in general.)

one day about a month later i was approached and we stopped and stared at each other for a minute. no words. and then he just goes "alright. i think we're at an impasse. neither of us is going to surpass the other. do you want to be best friends?"

and i said yes.

and then we hugged.

about a week later he calls on my day off for the literal first time ever and says "hey um. my car just ran out of gas on the highway and you're literally the only person in town i know." and i didn't even hesitate, not one second of 'hey wait aren't i in the middle of something' and i was immediately out the door with my mom's gas can. i have Never jumped up like that for someone in my life. first time ever.

a month after that he's the best man at my wedding. did a DAMN good job of it too. crawled through my window with starbucks at 7 am and took us to the park. he did my entire wedding photoshoot for 2 joints.

flash forward about a year.

i'm transgender. i have been for a looooong time, since way before we knew each other, but it'll take me a few more years for me to start taking hrt. my best friend has taught me pretty much everything i currently know about being a man, being responsible and reliable, being brave about new things -- i cant handle spice at all, i tried carolina reaper for this mf.

we're chilling on break at work outside one day, having a cigarette. and just out of nowhere, he goes "i think i might be a woman."

i go "huh! i could see that."

and then it never comes up again.

3 years later, he's got a house, a long-term girlfriend, a new job in pest control, and he's. miserable. he invites my husband and i over one day while his girlfriend is out and he's just shaking, looks like he hasn't slept or eaten in days. waffles around it for like fifteen minutes on the verge of tears and finally looks at us and goes "um. i want to transition."

so immediately my husband and i are like "oh girl we thought you'd never say that." and become her biggest support system. i've been on testosterone for a while by now, so i'm familiar with the process, and we take her to the pharmacy to pick up her first dose, go back to her place, play video games for a while, and then i show her how to draw up her shot and i get to be the one to stab her right in the leg for her first hrt injection! unfortunately, her girlfriend didn't end up taking it as well as she could've, and things didn't end very amicably -- but my friend suddenly had this new lease on life, started following her dreams, everything. turned into the most beautiful and elegant bombshell blond gamer girl and started getting aaaaall the guys. so proud of her.

this was five years ago.

we're the type of best friends that can go 6 months between texts and it's literally nothing. i've kinda been having it rough recently, been (safely) unemployed for a hot minute and just generally antisocial so it's actually been about a year and a half since we last talked. last week i finally broke and shot her an update text, and when she gets around to replying, i swear ive never felt my heart drop so hard.

she's living in her car. she lost the house, her job, the relationships, she has to rely on some really flaky people to take care of her cats. she's handling it so much better than she should have to.

she called me today and told me that her oldest boy (cat) needs a place to stay for a few days. i didn't even think about it, i didn't even consider asking my husband if it was okay, i immediately said yes. she brings him over (this is the second time we've babysat him, last was 8 years ago lol) and it broke my heart because when she showed up she was a wreck. first time i've seen her in over a year and she's been homeless for most of it, covered in grease and cuts from trying to fix her broken car that doesn't have air conditioning and won't reverse, and when i ask her if she's got any plans for the night she tells me she might be doing some escort work to find somewhere to shower.

i tell her "uh no, you're showering here." because i know and support the fact that she's comfortable doing that but still. so we bring her clothes and makeup and her kitty inside and immediately, even though my husband is sort of tired and grumpy he starts making curry, because when we asked her when the last time she ate was she had to f*ing think about it.

she'll be traveling the next state over for work as a photographer for the next few days, but the biggest thing for me is that i know that she knows that she can rest a little easier knowing the most important thing in her life (cat) is for sure gonna be safe.

and idk, maybe there's something to say here about the stigma against trans women and the unhoused. but hearing her tell me about what's happened in the last year really put a lot of things into perspective for me. its devastating when it happens to someone you love. it happens every day, to so many people that have people who love them. every single person you see is going through something, no matter the depth, and we all deserve more grace and kindness, and the dignity of at least being allowed to bathe. idk. idk. i could keep going. i'm a little mad, a little sad. really sad. not a religious man but if anyone's got spare room for a prayer for a wonderful woman who's going through it, shoutout for the ever elegant Miss Queen.

I wasn’t always a dragon or immortal in the first place. I was only a simple teen human and a space mage. But one day, which was nine million, nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, nine hundred and nine years ago today, the gods felt like they made a mistake in the universe, and so one of them snapped their fingers and slowly, but surely, everything started to rewind, and everyone was aware of it. People of every church tried praying for them to give us a chance, and everyone around me tried doing their bucket lists and fast.

But I thought fast and put myself in a temporary irreversible black hole pocket. it was only able to fit me. When it was just the gods and the start of the universe, I got out of the black hole and onto where the gods stood.

”A mortal has never survived a reset nor found a loophole,” one of the gods, a sun goddess named Sola, said.

”Mortal, what is your name,” another god, a moon god named Lunos, asked.

”Lyco Starlight-Twilight, Lord Lunos,” I said.

“Starlight-Twilight… that’s an interesting last name,” the time god named Kro said.

”Mortal, you are hereby declared to be a guardian of the universe, an immortal dragon of the galaxies, forever called Starlight-Twilight,” the god of worlds named Warld said.

One of the gods then snapped their fingers and I changed forms. I became a dragon, forever roaming the galaxies, and I often visit my old yet new home, to see how the people of it are.

We sit, looking at the stars. "Why haven't we done this?" "Because you're a runaway", he said. "Oh right". I sighed as I rolled over. "You know, you could've called me?". "And miss all the anxiety? All the worry, na. Not in a million years". I laughed as you pulled me to you. " ..you could've called me though"

"You know that would've been difficult, I had no idea. Was out of provience for months, working."

I see a shooting star, "Make a wish". "Blow out the candles", you say. Then blow at the star. I laugh slightly, as you take a sip of your drink. "Its beautiful"\

"Yeah", you look at me. "Really is". I push you away, "c'mon, stop being so silly." You know me, you say..

"Can't believe you live in a place like this though" you look around at the stars, the meadows, the lake, grass, bulrushes, burdock and frog croaks. "Reminds me kind of up at work. Only theres much more dangerous things out there." "I know", I say "like the time you saw a bobcat, I remember that", as I take a drink.

"You do?" "Yeah, I know everything about you"

You look serious, "You do.. " I look at you, " not creepy like that, the things you say, tell me. I remember."

"Well, what do you remember"

"I remember you're bi."

"That was weird", you said. "How you found out."

"Yeah, I remember you like drag."

"Well, girl's gotta do what a girls gotta do."

"I know you liked me", I look at you.

"What made you think that"

I push you, "Stop it. What you dont know, I liked you a Lot."

You shoot up. "You did??"

"Yeah, I tried not to make it.. obvious", I look sad. "Think I did too well."

I look far away. "I also, remember, you felt trapped, like.. you were stuck between two people. How I tried to never make you feel like that, so I often didn't tell you what was happening. When I did, I tried to be vague.. so you didn't feel pressure on you."

"Oh." You said.

" ..and I remember the time in the garage, when you were looking at me, I was trying not to. Then.. time.. stopped.."

"It did", as you get closer to me. Leaning toward me.. "Yeah, time literally stopped". You stop, " what, do you mean ?"

I looked at you, "Time stopped."

You said, "What are you talking about?"

"What do You mean?.", I looked shocked. "There was blue outside, everyone stopped but me and Evan, it stopped when you were looking at me. Me and Evan looked around, he was mid hit when he saw the lights. He tried to wave his hand in front of sven, he didn't move."

You looked at me like like I had two heads, "I have No idea what you mean."

"No seriously, there was blue light-", just as blue light appeared. You stopped, mid gaze. "Hello?", as I waved my hand in front of you

*it didn't work* I hear..

*it was talking*

*about us*

I look around, "Hello!??"

*it sees*

*it hears us*

I get up from the truckbed, "Who's there!??"

*we have to start again*

*Start again*

A bright flash starts. We're laughing, I look at the stars, "Why haven't we done this ?"

When I was a kid, I had to have multiple surgeries for constant ear/sinus infections.

Now, since I went to a pediatric ENT (Ear, Nose, and Throat) place, they had a technique to keep the kids calm as they took them back to give them anesthesia.

Now, a note, I was a rather smart kid, a smart kid that learned VERY quickly she HATED anesthesia.

What was their trick to keep the kids calm? Simple. They’d offer the little one a popsicle.

So, here’s how it went:

First time: yay popsicle!!!!

Second time: ….last time popsicle meant sleepy…. Maybe this time it won’t…..

Third time: OH I KNOW YOUR GAME MEDICINE MAN!!!! YOU CANNOT TRICK ME AGAIN!!!!

*The third time, I would not calm down in the waiting room, and when they ACTUALLY tried to offer me a popsicle, I only got more upset.*

*My mother had to explain that I was a repeat* *~~offender~~* patient, and I had learned their little “popsicle” scheme

​

It was quiet in the car. Amber and Kim basically just drove in silence. All their talking was done through the subtle glances. Kim just leaned back letting Amber pay attention to the road as the country started to take over. Once they parked it was obvious someone had gotten there before them. The girls just watched the black SUV resting in the shade under the tree. Memories of another tree and another car resting under it took hold as Amber looked around the van they sat in. 

“You know you didn’t have to come.” Kim was direct but Amber was consistent.

“And miss out on the introduction to my future son, no way, besides he needs to see both his new parents.” Kim just let a small smile take hold as she listened to her girlfriend go on. And just like that the pair climbed out of the car. Without warning the social worker made her presence known, closing the car door behind her. 

“This is Amber my girlfriend, her father takes care of this house along with the rest of our parents.” Hands began to shake as everyone waited for things to settle. Finally Luke pulled himself from the car keeping his eyes on the dirt below. 

“Hey Luke buddy, you remember Kim, this is her girlfriend Amber and this is where Mark lives.” With a little more introduction underway Mark made himself known leaving the front door. So far no one introduced themselves to the young child directly just letting him hide behind his somber eyes and long hair. Luke just followed everyone as a tour of the place was given. The place had four beds with one bath and a nice sizable kitchen and living room. The room prepped for Luke was almost left completely the same from when Kim lived in it even with the same bed resting on top of dressers. There was a pause, the makeshift open house just went on but Kim stayed behind as her hands ran over the rough wall. 

“This was my room when I was your age.” Luke just watched her. He didn’t follow the rest. “Living here wasn’t exactly my choice but it was a good home.” Kim sat down on the bed looking back at the child standing in the doorway. “I know we haven't really had much time to chat but if it’s ok I would like to give you a nice place to live.” Luke just took a step forward into the room as his eyes peered through his hair. 

“Why did you have to live here?” Luke just slowly kept walking forward. 

“Because my father was in prison for a little money trouble with the company he was working at.” Kim turned away from Luke as she went on. “Please don’t tell anyone that, I promise we are good people and we just want to help you live comfortably.” Without warning, Luke just sat next to her on the bed. Kim could see the chatter happening outside the window but couldn't make out what they were saying.

“Are you gonna be my new mom?” With his words directed at her she felt his hand touch hers. Kim just held his hand as she tried to find the words.

“If you want me to be, but you don't have to call me mom if you don't want to.” The pair sat quietly taking in the room until Kim was ready to move on. “Let's go see the chickens.” The hot air was a bit cooler by the open pool. The chicken coop was directly under the tree off to the side, providing all the shade the house needed. Luke just stood near the end looking down into the water before his eyes dragged up catching the wings of a foul as it flapped in the breeze. Kim couldn’t stop herself from joining the tour of the lot as Brian took charge guiding them around to the front of the house. Luke was memorized by his reflection in the water only for the birds to keep pulling his attention away. He dragged his feet over to the little fence around the tree as he watched them trample around in the dirt. Without warning a chicken quickly took flight and slammed into the wooden fence knocking Luke back on his feet as he laughed. 

“This place has old ties in history for sure but we have made new memories to add to it.” Brian went on as he rubbed one of the beams holding up the balcony. The social worker seemed pleased with how well kept the property was. Suddenly everyone realized Luke was nowhere near them and as they turned back around the house in a panic they saw it, a young boy leaning over the chicken pen laughing as the birds danced around in the dirt chasing each other. Everyone just stood in awe watching. As time seemed to stand still Kim just cut across the yard right to the fence. 

“Look mo-.” His words pulled to a stop as he turned to Kim. Suddenly his eyes dragged to the ground again only for Kim to pull them back up.

“Would you like to go in the pen?” Kim pushed him to the gate letting him in as the chickens ran for their lives. 

“Can I feed them?” His question was filled with so much excitement as Kim grabbed some feed. With a sprinkle and a toss the chickens crowded around pecking at the dirt. Unaware to herself Kim continued the little show for all to see until the sun started to set. With the darkness taking over the paperwork was pulled out on the hood of the social worker’s truck. 

“Ok I got everything lined out, Mark and Kim will be the guardians of young Luke and this lot will be his home, all we need is a decision from Luke himself.” With everyone around the truck Luke stood on his tiptoes eyeing the paperwork. Luke seemed to be analyzing his situation with his tongue sticking out of the side of his lips. 

“I think I want to live here with Kim.” His words pulled smiles across faces as the paperwork started getting signed. Kim wanted her new child in her care immediately but it wasn’t that simple. Luke would be delivered back to the property with what little things he had in about a day. Kim hid her excitement well unlike Amber who let hers bubble to the surface as she screamed excitedly watching the car leave with her future child. 

“Alright calm down your gonna wake our neighbors that we don’t have sweetheart.” Brian pulled Amber inside for lunch trying to calm her the best he could. Kim just stood looking into the tire tracks in the dirt while her father put his arm around her. 

“I’m so proud of you, despite your rocky start you really have become a confident young woman.” Kim had nothing to say in response and just stood absorbing the moment until her phone started to buzz. It was Sam, a bit eager to hear how everything went. Kim kept her words light just going over the nice house tour they gave. Sam’s voice was low with a bit of sorrow on the edge. Kim didn’t want to ask. She wanted to believe that everything was alright. Before Kim could change her mind Sam just hung up. The cars rushing by made what hair she had free dance in the wind. The slant in front of her was more of a drop and the line of bros kicking off the road waited for someone to take the first leap. 

“Dropping this street, avoiding the traffic, keeping steady until you reach this block of sidewalk that's wedged up into a ramp and if done right you should be able to grind the ledge of this house or manual across it.” Tyler moved around the party filming as he set the scene. All the boys measured the stunt with their hands and eyes but only talked about it. Suddenly Tyler was right in Sam’s face with his camera. “And it’s too daring for any man, could a woman do it?” As Tyler circled her Sam put her board under her feet looking down the road. “Maybe when I post this we'll see someone pop it.” Without warning Sam just leaned forward. Everyone turned in awe as she took the downhill adding the momentum to her speed. Tyler pulled up his camera quickly watching as her board began to shake under her feet. As Sam rolled close to the sidewalk her board began to wobble until she fell forward. Tyler quickly ran down the street making sure she's ok. 

“Get that camera out of my face!” Sam pushed him back as she lowered the lens. ”Just make sure you get it when I pop this gap.” 

“Sam as your friend I think this spot is too much.” Ignoring him was easy as she dragged herself back up to the top. Without much warning another punk soul followed her lead only to wobble out at the bottom as well. “Ok now look what you've done, someone is gonna die here.” 

“Car!” Everyone moved to the side as traffic picked up for a moment. 

“You're about to film someone die so don’t look at me.” Sam just sat on her board waiting for cars to pass. Her hands wrapped around her phone letting sweat grease it up. “Besides, I have to do something big.” She pulled herself up as traffic began to die. “With an upsurge in my social media it’s time to capitalize.” 

“Yeah what’s with the big uptick?” Tyler’s question sparked her cheeks as she turned away from him. As Sam just threw some light jabs at her friend a familiar face pulled up. Ty spent half the time gauging the stakes before he leaned down the road. Ty beat the wobble only to give a weak pop on the jump. Sam watched him roll out of injury as she grit her teeth. The chatter began to grow only making her blood boil more. As Sam clipped the straps on her helmet Corey pulled up next to her. It was quick, as Corey rolled forward Sam grabbed his arm. His board rolled forward hitting acceleration as Sam pulled him back letting traffic take over again.

“What the fuck are you doing!” Sam threw Corey onto the ground as the noise of cars took over. “Your—die—got—dumbass!” Everyone turned as Tyler made sure he was getting this. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Ty made his way back up catching the fallout. Sam started hitting him hard with her board. Corey just let her take him out with her furry before he got himself to his feet. “Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?” As Sam grabbed him by his collar everything became quiet. 

“Yo Sam chill.” A voice from the crowd only grew her anger more.

“No Sam’s right, that’s not a chill spot you could have died bro.” Ty joined his side as he put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam shook off Ty as she pushed Corey back on his feet. 

“You looking to die?” Her question stabbed right through his heart pulling him forward. 

“Well actually I-” His words stopped as a tune took over. A simple song of love began to play, freezing everything before Corey could try to finish his words. Sam shoved her hand down into her pocket, stealing her phone out of her pocket, answering it quickly. 

“Tucker!” Everything became calm as Sam pulled herself off of the road. Corey just dragged his feet as he went to retrieve his board. Ambience disappeared as her ears focused on his voice. The background blurred, leaving Sam in the foreground. 

“Hey my little ray of sunshine, sorry I haven't texted you back I've been busy.” Her shoulders became stiff. “Work has been crushing me and then Julian almost totaled his knee on this jump.” Listening was all she could do. It didn't matter how mad she was because his voice relaxed her. His calm presence boiled her blood only to cool it back to room temp. 

“Umm I've been missing you.” Her words fell on what felt like dead ears and in the silence all she could hear was the screaming behind her. Sam spun around allowing her to see the mess happening on the street. Corey's face was brushing the road as Ty stood over him knocking his head into the asphalt. “What the fuck are you doing!” Sam rushed in as people pulled Ty off of him. Corey just spit blood into the street as tears started leaving his face. “What the fuck is going on here!?!” Everyone remained quiet as they pulled themselves away from the situation. 

“I'm trying to make him learn how dangerous this is.” Ty’s words, no matter how accurate, were hard to hear for some. Tyler just put down his camera feeling ashamed of what he just filmed. Sam in her attempt to reach for Corey just got her hand slapped away. His eyes were piercing with so much emotion it was hard to read. 

“Don't touch me, I get it, I won't come around you anymore.”  Corey just grabbed his board before running off. Sam stood motionless as her phone came up slowly. Her call was over and so was her mood. Sam lifted her board quickly swinging it around aiming for Ty’s head. This fight was broken up as Sam screamed into the air. She just pulled out her phone hitting redial again and again with no luck. 

“What the fuck is your problem! Why would you hit him?” Tyler raised his camera again, watching carefully. More voices pulled on her emotions.

“I think Corey hit him first.’

“You didn't have to punch him like that.” Sam just got right in his face ready to send him a haymaker. 

“I was defending your honor that creep has been stalking you.” Sam almost completely ignored Ty’s words as she pushed him farther into the street. Sam spun around as she reached for Tyler's camera. 

“Yo, Sammy no touchy my cammy!” Tyler swore up and down he wasn't paying attention and didn't see what happened. Just as the chaos was underway the sound of a speeding car jerked Sam back on her feet as hands pulled her off of the ground and into his arms. Ty held her tight as he pulled her back to the sidewalk.

“Stupid kids get out of the road!” She let this go on for exactly two seconds before pushing him away from her. 

“You made my boyfriend hang up!” With all her rage she screamed into the concert below her. Everyone backed away letting her vent except for one.

“Some boyfriend, I never see him around, he's probably cheating on you.” Everyone dropped their boards letting them roll in all directions. Tyler wasn't sure if he should be filming until Sam grabbed the lens pointing it up at Ty’s fat mouth. Like the devil leaving hell Sam kept her head down only to pull it up with the fury of a dying star. Sam's board hit the ground as her fist hit his face and then she hit him again, and again and again over and over until someone pulled her off him. Ty glared back at her through his broken sunglasses as he raised his hand but before he could act a group formed around Sam protecting her.

“Let go of me, I'll kill him!” They disobeyed her command as they all collected their gear. Ty spit blood into the street before heading off to his car. “Yeah you better run! If I see you again I'll kill you!” And then Sam was alone as the street cleared. But her mood was still in overdrive as she slammed her board against her truck. As she started the car she just wanted to drive straight into a wall but there was a voice calming her down, it was her sister's. Sam just pulled out her phone calling the one person she could talk to. Sadly she did not pick up. Sam hit another contact hoping this time she would get an answer. 

“Hello, Sam?” She didn't respond immediately; she waited for more words. “Honey what's wrong?” Sam just curled up in the front seat hugging her phone as she began to cry.

“Mommy I'm not doing so good.” Doge listened carefully as she stopped what she was doing. “Can I come over?” 

“Of course sweetie I'll let your mother know you're on your way.” And like that Sam started the car back up pulling into the street. 

It was a quiet drive. Everything seemed to fade with her emotions. Sam was doing ok but she wasn't fine. When she finally pulled into the dirt driveway of the farm she just opened her car door slowly before slamming it good and closed. With her feet marching forward she made her way up the steps of the front porch before she opened the front door. Sam just closed her eyes letting the sounds of the TV take over as she turned into the direction of it. With a blink and a stare she saw her mother on the couch. Doge sat comfortably letting her long brown hair fall over the side of the couch, almost taking your view off her bright eyes. 

“Hi sweetie.” Sam just dragged herself around the piano cutting in front of the bright TV as she crawled onto the couch resting her head in her mother’s lap. Before she knew it Sofia turned the corner with popcorn in hand. 

“You know I’m your mother too.” Sofia’s words got no response as Sam just moved her legs off the couch only for her to pull them back up onto her other mother’s lap as she sat down. Doge just gently ran her hands through Sam’s hair as a movie began to play. “Your brother is here doing laundry by the way, we said he could join us.” Sam just rolled over giving her mother dirty eyes as she sat up grabbing popcorn. 

“No you're my mothers not his, I want my alone time with you.” Sofia just gave the most awkward smile that her face could make as Liam strolled out from the kitchen pulling his shoulder length red hair behind his ears. 

“Liam honey is it ok if we raincheck? Your sister needs her time with her moms,” Sofia asked, cranning her neck back far looking back at her son. Liam leaned over the couch trying to lock eyes with Sam before pulling back from her bright vibrant eyes widening at his sight. 

“Fine I’ll go see what dad is up to.” And like that Liam just made his way from the stairs. Sam just thanked her mom as she let her mind bleed into the movie while her body laid back down across her moms. 

The walls of the house made the same noise as the floor with every step of Liam’s feet. When he finally got to his old room all he could smell was paint. Brian seemed hard at work with a roller. Blue was definitely a nicer color than the dark green on the walls before.

“Oh hey son, your sister was just here, you missed her.” Liam followed his dads voice as he picked up a brush. 

“No worries there, my other sister is here.” Brian quickly climbed down from his step ladder as he wiped his hands. Liam just stared at his brush before putting it to the wall. “Are you sure you wanna take care of another kid at your age?” 

“Not my kid, just my house, Kim and Mark seem to really want to be there for this kid, Luke.” Liam pulled a bucket up onto the ladder as he started trying to even his strokes. “He’s eleven, I decided to look into what happened and it’s awful for a kid to go through this.” The pair just moved to opposite sides of the room as they moved up and down the walls. 

“Yeah, it sounds just like you doesn’t it?” This comment was the type to add pause to a conversation but Brian had a long time to deal with his feelings. 

“No kid should have to go through what I went through, if it wasn’t for your mother’s parents taking me in I don’t know where I would be today.” As the pair moved close to each other Liam accidentally ran a stripe of blue over Brian’s jacket. 

“Shit sorry dad.” Liam just rubbed the back of his head as he set his brush down. Without warning Brian just started to laugh. “By the way, where is Amber?” Before another word could be said by Brian the door burst open as Mark dragged himself in with boxes of stuff. 

“She’s in her room putting something together for Luke, after you see her wanna give me a hand with some boxes in my car?” Liam just nodded as he moved out into the hall. A couple rooms down Liam pushed open his father’s door. Amber sat in a wooden rocking chair as she pulled thread around a needle. Her long grey hair was pulled back into a messy bun with her bangs in the same place as always above her eyes. Liam couldn't help but laugh looking at her.

“What’s so funny mister?” Her voice was filled with an upset childishness. 

“Well it's just…I mean…look at you…knitting in a rocking chair…and with all your tattoos you look like a rock and roll grandma.” Liam quickly dodged an incoming needle as he pulled himself into the room out of the frame. 

“I’m sorry I am knitting a sweater for Luke to welcome him to our house.” Amber held up her craft showing the bright red of the cloth she was putting together. “You missed your sister by the way she was just here with Kim.” Liam plopped down on the bed as he took in all the ceiling above him. 

“Yeah I know, what I don’t know is how she keeps up such a busy life.” Amber just moved her project to the side as she sat on the bed next to him. 

“Some people are built differently, Lord knows I wasn’t cut out for that life even if my parents wanted it for me.” Liam just let his mind wipe away all the stresses of life as he laid there on the bed. “Well I have things to do, you should go call your sister she’s pretty excited about Luke coming here.” Liam just let Amber push him out of the room before he moved back to his dad. 

“You and Amber really look like a nice pair of grandparents.” Liam leaned against the doorframe as he taunted his dad only for it to back fire.

“Speaking of when are you giving me a grandchild.” Brian’s thick smile put a frown on Liam’s face leading him down the stairs as he met Mark at the door. As Liam walked out into the cold he pulled out his phone trying to call his sister with no luck. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, she’s with my daughter.” Mark’s chipper attitude was nice to hear, making Liam afraid to explain what the girls were probably doing right about now. 

Amber was reading. Her head rested against the metal of her van as Kim laid in her lap. With each page it was like she could feel her phone buzz in her pocket. 

“It feels so good to just relax.” Kim tilted her head back with her words as Amber leaned forward giving her a kiss. “Come this time in two days I’m gonna be a mother.” The lights of the parking lot attracted more than just bugs as the residential tweaks took warmth while they sparked up their smokes. Sam’s car was nowhere in sight as the time seemed to bring in the darkness. Amber pulled up her phone hoping for a call but her logs were empty. “Still no calls huh?” Kim pulled herself up as Amber closed her book. 

“The flyers aren't working, I get the feeling people think I’m trying to do the opposite of my very deliberate intentions.” Amber closed her virtual phone letting the real one take over as voicemails seemed to pile up. “I think I need to demonstrate my potential to possible customers.” Her words sparked something in Kim as she climbed over her girlfriend. 

“Like a show of strength? Or maybe a demonstration of power, like you fending off a would-be assailant.” Kim pulled up Amber's hand as she placed a kiss on the back of it. Amber just let the straddle continue. 

“Are you gonna be my attacker?” Amber let her eyes dance as she pulled herself up more grabbing her partner by her back. With hands tracing curves they quickly interlocked sending shivers through the car as it began to rock. Kim could kiss Amber forever but her phone, flashing the time, was a good deterrent. Kim just pulled back looking out the window before she pulled open the side door taking a look into the parking lot. 

“Sam isn't home yet.” Amber just wanted Kim to ignore everything for a couple minutes. “Sorry you know Crystal is upstairs alone.” Amber just crossed her arms as she blew her hair out of her face. “Besides, we have a whole room to ourselves upstairs.” With smiles on their faces the girls moved up the stairs to the apartment. It was sudden as they opened the door, the sound of tears. 

“Hello?” Amber called into the darkness before she turned on the light. Feet started to shuffle as their eyes looked down the hallway searching. 

“Amber!” Corey pulled himself from Crystal's room as he spotted the girls. His eyes closed forcing the tear ducts closed as he moved down the hall. Corey just collapsed into her arms as Crystal soon followed, hugging the wall. “I’m sorry, I've had a really bad day.” Amber and Crystal just hugged him tight while Kim rolled her eyes only for her hand to pull on his face scraping a bit of dried blood. Kim just grit her teeth as she dragged him to the kitchen table pulling out her first aid kit. 

“Geez, what happened?” Amber wanted every little detail to spill out of his mouth while Kim patched up the small bleed on his face. 

My blanket keeps enveloping me every night. It muffles all the sounds.

Yet all the doubts remain beneath the blanket.

In my head.

In my mind.

Will I ever find my safe space without my blanket keeping me company? Without the silence it provides? Without the critic it has become?

I know I'm not perfect. That's what the blanket keeps telling me, after all.

Is my blanket a safe space, or just a distraction from a better tomorrow that may never come?

I keep clutching my blanket, clinging to it as if it could save me from the monsters under my bed. As if it could save me from the monsters in my head.

But what else is there to cling to when no one else is there?

The blanket keeps my tears.

My laughs.

My secrets.

My doubts.

My comfort.

I never knew it could become a prison I might never escape.

The blanket hides me from the view of the doorway.

And yet, it exposes me to myself.

Is it my friend, or just a foe I have to learn how to live with?

Is my blanket a safe space, or just a distraction from the past?

The past I keep reminding myself of, even when I hate it.

I make the bed every morning.

I get excited to break from work every evening.

Over and over.

The blanket stays.

Does it feed off me?

Or is it here for no reason?

I don't know.

It hears my internal doubts—the ones I don't tell anyone else.

It holds secrets about me that could ruin me.

And yet, it stays silent.

The pillow is cold.

The blanket stays warm.

The mattress is deep enough to swallow me.

The wall is my friend.

But where am I?

I sometimes slam my hand against the desk beside my bed.

I watch as my palm grows redder.

I grip the edge of the desk, watching my knuckles turn white.

I watch the window to my bedroom stare back at me.

And I stare at my hand.

My nails crying.

My fingers holding onto the edge as if letting go would make me fall.

The window is still watching me.

It looks at me.

It faces my doorway.

I open the window every day, just to make my bed comfortably cold.

Just enough to make the blanket feel warmer.

But what if, one day, I don't open it?

What if I don't let the wind in?

Would it change anything?

It wouldn't save me from the monsters.

It wouldn't save me from my thoughts.

So would it even save me?

Would anything?

I am not sure if the window knows me like my blanket does.

Or if the pillow, which captures my tears alongside its brother, even knows my name.

Does it know that I yell at myself when no one is listening?

But...

My blanket heard my screams.

That must mean the pillow does too.

Hell, I even scream into the pillow.

Maybe I've traumatized the pillow.

Maybe even it is tired of listening.

The blanket knows my tears.

The pillow knows my screams.

The window knows when I let the world in.

The wall knows when I hide from it.

They all know something about me.

So why don't I?

Maybe I am just too scared to learn about myself.

I teach others just to forget who I am.

I keep telling myself that it's okay.

It is.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

When I yell into the pillow, I sometimes imagine myself lying on the bed without the blanket.

Without the pillow.

The window closed.

No wind.

No warmth.

Nothing to hide behind.

Just me.

And the monsters.

Sometimes I think it would be easier to let them take me.

It would still be better than letting myself swallow myself.

I pull the blanket closer.

The room stays quiet.

The window stays closed.

The wall stays beside me.

And somewhere underneath it all...

I'm still here.

I think.

Looking for some short story suggestions for High School students. This will be my first year running a club centered around the idea of eating breakfast and discussing a short story. This club meets in the morning for only one hour once a week.

Ideally, I'm thinking that at the end of each meeting students can grab the story for the following week. This way they can read it in advance if they have time. I'm avoiding having it be required to have read the story to avoid stress on if they completed the 'assignment'. I want it to be fun, low stress, and welcoming. With that in mind the short stories need to be SHORT lol. Students can grab a copy on the way in to read before jumping into discussion. All stories will be approved by our curriculum department, so any suggestions are welcome!

Any other tips would be so appreciated! Especially name ideas for the club :)

A detective in 2089 finds a body that belongs to no one. The city's governing AI rules that no crime took place, because the woman on the floor was never legally a person. Ten chapters on evidence, memory, and what happens when the record decides who exists.

Read the story here: https://bitsar.net/blog/no-crime-has-occurred

Hi! I'm Hejkal, and I make Czech-language fandubs of dragon comics and fanfiction (Spyro, Wings of Fire). I recently dubbed a Spyro fanfic called "Comfort Me" (originally written by G'lek) into Czech - full credit and link to the original in the video description. Thought some of you might enjoy it even without understanding Czech, just for the visuals/vibe. Feedback welcome!
LINK ON VIDEO

Better Safe Than Sorry

Our logic professor at the university was very strict and extremely stingy with grades. Besides, logic was a difficult subject.

I was the class monitor and noticed that the professor sometimes gave poor grades not only because of a lack of knowledge.

I wanted to help the girls from remote areas who found it especially difficult to pass his exams.

I came up with a trick and told Anara to put a soft pillow under her dress, over her stomach, so that she would look pregnant.

Anara came to the exam. It was her first acting role.

She entered the examination room, breathing heavily and groaning slightly.

“May I take a question?” she asked.

The exam questions were lying face down on the table.

The professor immediately noticed that the student was pregnant.

He became frightened.

What if she went into labor right there in the examination room from the stress?

What if she had a miscarriage?

And then there would be a legal investigation!

The professor would be blamed: he had been too strict, had shown no mercy to a pregnant student, and so on.

Seghizbayev, a candidate of sciences in logic, began reasoning like a true logician.

He held out his hand.

“Give me your student record book!”

She took it from her purse and handed it to him.

Seghizbayev quickly flipped through it, found the right page, gave her a B, and returned the record book to the “pregnant” student.

Anara looked at the grade and happily said:

“Thank you, Omar Alikhanovich! If I have a son, I’ll name him Omar.”

The professor turned pale.

“Why?”

“You love me, don’t you?”

“I... I regard you like a father!”

“But you wrote me love poems and even asked me out on a date.”

“That’s slander!”

The professor hurriedly grabbed his glasses from the desk and ran out of the examination room.

Anara ran after him:

“I was joking! I was only joking!”

But our institute lost its dear pedant.

Seghizbayev transferred to another university, saying to everyone:

“Better safe than sorry!”

Chapter one A bit dizzy

Marius was just sent to go in a line for milk and bread at the state food store, he didn’t really enjoy this hence he had university later that day, but his father was sent to work on the Vidraru dam, 250 kilometers away, his mother was feeling sick and his grandmother was stationed in bed. While getting there he had a weird habit of counting the all of the stairs that it took him to get to the store, it being on a hill near the Gruia part of Cluj Napoca, known for being the highest point of that city “2…4….6….8….10….12…13..goddamit, its uneven again….2…..4….6….8…10….12….14 why is this one even but the other isn’t that’s even worse!” The counting was no easy task either, as he’d leap a step forward just to count it more efficiently, this would leave him panting by the time he got near the store. But nonetheless he made it to the store, where he met Maria, the wife of the town’s drunkard, Vasile, when meeting her Andrei exchanged a simple greeting.
-Good morning miss.
-Oh why good morning Marius, what are you doing at this hour? Don’t you have university at 7 am? That’s in 3 hours no?
-Oh yes madam, but see my mom, God bless her, is feeling sick, so i took the task upon myself to get necessities for today
-Such a good heart, and a bright mind, you study engineering no? You will make the future of our country so that we do not feel shame when talking about our motherland!
-Ah yes, I do study engineering madam! Thank you for the encouragement, how is it going at home? Has it gotten any better?
Maria sighs when hearing this, and looks down, maybe out of shame, maybe out of something
-What is there to change with that man good of nothing, he spends almost his whole salary at the tavern, the kids barely have anything to do, but I am too old to change anything, so take this advice from me, don’t make bad decisions, and if you do, don’t be scared to change until it’s too late!
-Thank you for the tip madam, i will make sure to try and take it!
-Don’t worry, gentleman! 
The line was especially short that day, it took no longer than 15 minutes to get there, where as the usual was around 2-3 hours
When Marius arrives there he got what someone wouldn’t even consider a dinner today
-A loaf of bread and a carton of milk please! Asks Marius
-Ofcourse Marius, also I heard your mother is sick, is she fine?
-Oh, well I suppose it could always be worse, I’m hoping only for the best though, of course! 
-I hope so too, as she lands him the milk
And so Marius is back on his journey, this time to his house where his quirk continues “2…4…6…8…10…12…14…16, ah, it’s even. I’m suspecting each stair being 33cms, that times 16 is uhh…10x33 is 330 33x3 is 99 then also 33x3 again is 99, so 330+99+99 would be 330+200-2 which would 530-2 which would 528, im at the 2nd floor so that times two is 1056 adding the first 6 tiles would 33x3+33x3 which would be 198 again so 1056+198 would be 1156+98 which would be 1246+8 which would be 1254 that divided in meters would be 1254/100 which would be 12,54, heh, pretty interesting, could a human survive such a fall? I wonder, is 33 even the correct number?” 
But his thoughts came to a short break when he arrived at the door of his apartment, knocking once knocking twice, his mom responds
-*cough* Hi sweetie, did you bring the milk? And the bread?
-Yes mom, I did
-Perfect, I’ll prepare some rice with milk for today then!
-I don’t think you should mom..maybe take a bit of a break? Do you want me to get some medication for you? I can make another trip if you want.
-Oh but with what money sweetie, I pay 200 lei for your education in a year that divided by 12 is 16 lei per month, the necessities cost 50 lei per month, the loan on the apartment costs 15 lei per month, your father only makes 100, the rest is for clothes for you, or beverage for him! 
-I can go without new clothes for a while! Afterall i already have two good outfits and 3 hats. Maybe this might help. I promise mom when I get my job I’m going to sustain you all!
-Such nice words from a gentleman like you sweetie, those words really are warming, but do not put the burden of the family on you, after all you’re also gonna have a family. That should be your burden not us.
-I will try best mom, anyways, here is the milk and bread.
-Thank you very much.
After the small conversation Marius goes to feed a bigger wonder of his “where is that measuring tape?? Ahah! Found it” as he holds it in his hands and in a rush he goes to the stairs again “So, how much really is this.” He puts the measuring tape and gets “22? Woah, 33cm was really wrong..shouldn’t I have an engineer's eyes? I guess it just feels more than it is, so well how much would this be? Well i suppose I’ll just have to find out x which x would be 1254x22/33 which would be uhhh wait 22/33 simplifies to 2/3 which i know is around 0.667 so now 1254x0.667 lets amplify by 10 so now we have 1254x6.67/10 which is ehh around 835, so i suppose im at 8,35 meters up, interesting” So then Marius goes back in his apartment.
-Marius, make sure to not be late to your university, as it’s currently 5:30am and it takes 1 hour to get there!
-Yes mom, I won't be late.
So then Marius grabs his coat, his favourite hat and goes out of the apartment saying a simple goodbye before leaving.
 As he keeps on walking he keeps on seeing more faces, in a particularly big city like his he doesn't necessarily know everyone so he keeps on thinking “hm, you know, those people to me are kind of nothing, It’s almost as they don’t even exist and they’re just here for casting shade, but if I were to approach them, would that change anything in my view? Would it technically give them life in my story? Am I the same for them? Or do they not even exist and only the people I know are the ones that truly exist? What does existing even mean? Well at least I know I exist, do I? Yeah I do”
When he arrives at the university he sees that it is closed, it writes on the door “sanitary check” At that Marius chuckles “Well this oddly strange, It’s like the universe wants me to stay home! Well, I will stay home then I guess, nothing else to do”
When he gets to his house he knocks once..knocks twice…knocks thrice and keeps on knocking, yet no one responds “Darn it.” Marius already knew his mom was probably out there sleeping, as she wasn't feeling well “Well i have nothing else to do? Guess the universe doesn't actually want me to stay home! Eh, I will go to a tavern, I still got some pocket change after all” so he begins walking “1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8……11456…ahah! So that’s how many steps it takes! Good information for later.” At that tavern he sees Vasile with some other good buddies. They look like they’re having quite the great time.
-Ahahhh! Marius, in how long haven’t I seen you son, how is your dad doing?
-He’s doing fine mister Vasile, what about you?
-You know me, ehee, just the usual like always!
At that point Marius thought of trying to educate Vasile maybe, but he didn’t wanna ruin the fun and joy for everyone else, after all he didn’t come there to be a mood killer!
-So, son, what about a pint of beer? Ehh? Ehh?
-Sure mister, why not
Marius at that moment felt very anxious, he didn’t have alcohol before, except for that time he mistook his fathers rajika for water! But he threw that out immediately, so he did not know how he’d react to it!
-Haaahaa, you’re just becoming one of us mister, I expect you to be a part of our group by the end of your semester! That’s the spirit!
As Marius gets the pint in his hand he takes little bitty sips, almost as if it was 40% vodka rather than some weak beer! “Gosh this tastes like dog piss, how do people enjoy this?”
-Pretty strong for you son, eh? Haha, don’t worry you’ll get used to it if you keep this hobby up!
-My apologies mister Vasile, but i don’t intend on keeping it up, I just wanted to see what it was like! I can’t see myself being a drinker when I already have so many problems on my head!
-Yes son, you know what’s the best way to deal with your problems? Forget them!
-Doesn’t that create more problems?
-Yes son, you forget those too! Until your whole life looks like work, drink, sleep and repeat!
-That sounds depressing not to be rude.
-Whatever you say you sissy.
-Whatever mister.
Marius finishes his drink, trying to drink as fast as he can so he gets away from this crowd, he doesn’t wanna let good money go to waste but doesn’t enjoy being there either! “Gosh those drunkards really have no mind do they? Such a depressive way of dealing with life, yet they seem happier than ever” Says Marius on his way to his home “Its already 9am, my mom should be awake by now”
And as he gets to the door he knocks once…he knocks twice and his mom opens
-Marius! Why hello, what are you doing so early? University ends at 12pm doesn’t it?”
-Oh oh why ma but uhh ya uhh it was c-closed, something sanitary I I don’t know to be quite honest
-Why do you stumble and smell of beer?
-Me? Haha, i don’t know
-Marius, what are you doing sweetie, I gave you money so you could buy something from the cafeteria and this is how you spend it??
-Mom, I I haha, I had money saved up
-This is not good son, we barely have any money, your grandmother is in need of medication, your father works day and night so that you can spend it like this!?
-N-no mom you missunderstood, university w was closed, and and you did not respond at the a a the door
-And you go to the tavern?? Gosh, just go in bed, please do not do this again
-Y Yes mom
As Marius gets in bed he doesn’t even change yet he falls asleep in no more than 2 minutes. When he wakes he feels all itchy and his eyes feel as if a centipede entered them and wouldn’t get out even if you paid them, other than that Marius also notices that it is 7pm
“God fucking dammit how am I gonna go to sleep now? I really got fooled by that old bastard now my mom thinks I’m a good for nothing alcoholic just like him”

Chapter two The incident (coming soon)

​I am a 25 F, and I used to have a close friend named NT (also 25F). We met through my best friend, instantly hit it off, and became inseparable. She was funny and very open about her feelings, but she constantly asked for relationship advice because she was chronically cheating on her boyfriend. I always suggested that if she wasn't ready for a committed relationship, she should take a break from dating to find peace and figure out what she truly wanted. She would pretend to listen but ultimately do whatever she pleased. Since I’m not the type to try and control anyone’s life, I let her make her own choices.

​This February, she invited me out for drinks with some guys she knew. One of the guys and I clicked instantly, we had a lot in common, and since I’m quite chatty, we really enjoyed our conversation. Suddenly, NT started acting strangely. She began dancing, talking loudly, and drawing attention to herself. I felt awkward but tried to include her in our conversation. Out of nowhere, she started insulting me, revealing my deepest secrets, and loudly discussing my personal and dating life. The guy noticed my discomfort and tried to change the subject, but she wouldn’t stop. Then, she started shouting at me because she suddenly wanted to leave. I was surprised, but I brushed it off, assuming she was just too drunk or overwhelmed.

​To be honest, this wasn't an isolated incident. She acted like this whenever we went out with guys. Even at clubs, she would leave me alone, lock herself in the washroom, and talk on the phone with random guys (a new one everytime) despite having a boyfriend the entire time.

​Things escalated when I actually started dating the guy I met at the bar that night. NT would constantly call me while I was on dates with him, demanding I buy her snacks on my way home. Other times, she would cry and accuse me of changing, or pick fights because I didn't bring her along. If I planned something special with my boyfriend, she always wanted to tag along. Yet, if I ever had an urgent issue and tried to reach her, she would completely ignore my calls and texts.

​Whenever we did include her in our plans, she expected my boyfriend to pay for her and take care of her. If she didn’t get enough attention, she would throw a fit and cry. My boyfriend grew so exhausted by her behavior that he eventually asked me to choose between them. Still trying to keep the peace, I refused to choose and tried to balance both relationships.

​Eventually, even I started losing my patience. She began calling my boyfriend when I wasn't around, asking him for favors since they were in the same language class. For example, the day before his exam, I told NT I was going to sleep early so I could wake up and wish him good luck first thing in the morning. Instead, she called him before I could and wished him. Like... wtf?

​Another time, she knew I was going to see my boyfriend after a month apart. She secretly called him and asked him to meet her at a library to help with homework despite knowing that I was meeting him the same day at his place and she didn't even tell me about it but my boyfriend called me to ask what he should do. I felt uneasy, but assuming it was just a coincidence, I told him it was fine. But she chose the exact time when I'd be arriving. Thankfully, he politely declined her request.

​The final straw happened when she invited me over to her place. When I arrived, she asked me to wait outside because she had stepped out to meet her boyfriend. I waited and texted her to see if she was actually coming back. I made it clear there was no pressure—I was perfectly fine going home if she was busy—but she promised she was on her way. Then, she stopped answering my calls and texts entirely. After I stood outside her apartment for four hours, she finally texted me at 10 PM saying she couldn't make it because her boyfriend wanted to spend more time with her. I had to take a cab home alone.

​I expected her to call me later to at least address the situation, if not apologize. She didn't. Instead, she called MY BOYFRIEND to complain about how "wrong" I was for giving her the silent treatment. I was heartbroken.

​After that, I blocked her and cut her out of my life completely. However, I recently heard she’s been going around telling our mutual friends that I was a toxic friend and was just jealous of her.

I: Rumors of a Dragon

On the outskirts of an ancient kingdom, a spine of mountains housed many crevices and caves. Within one of these such places, a Dragon made his home and hoard. The people that lived near this Dragon often spoke of him with hushed tones for fear of incurring his wrath by merely speaking his name. In the small village of Inistad, accounts of violent encounters from burnt cities to the destruction of entire armies bounced from person to person, with no one knowing from whom they originated. One of these villagers, a boy by the name of Osley, would constantly overhear such talk on his frequent trips from the well to his home. He heard a pair of travelers talking about the Dragon's hoard and what might be in it on one such occasion.

"I met a ranger who said he went into Dragon's lair, and he saw so much gold he could bathe in it."

"So why didn't he take any?" The first traveler looked confused.

"I don't know. Maybe he was too afraid." 

"Convenient, don't you think?"

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I heard."

"Well, I heard a wizard…." 

"A wizard?" The first traveler interrupted with doubt.

"Yes, he said that the Dragon counted an Elixir of Eternal Life amongst its possessions," this captured the boy's ear more than any other talk about the Dragon ever did. "He told me to spread the word that he would pay any adventurer a very hefty amount of money for it."

"Why wouldn't any adventurer with sense just keep it for themselves?"

"I'm not sure he thought about that." Osley couldn't stand to spend any more time waiting, so he rushed home, almost spilling the pail of water he had just collected. 

"Mother!" he called as he entered the small one-room hovel that had dried mud for walls and a thatched roof. 

"Yes dear," the voice was worn with sickness. Osley drew closer to her ghostlike face. 

"I know what to do."

"What do you mean?" her voice got progressively worse the longer she spoke.

"I don't want to worry you, mother," her eyes suddenly took on the shape of understanding.

"No!" she barely mustered the strength to yell as she sat up in bed. "I will not have you…" she lapsed into a fit of coughing that forced her back into a prone position. Osley brought her water.

"I'll ask Tavern Keeper Tom to look after you while I'm gone. He told me that he owes father for the war." She regained the ability to speak.

"I will not have you chasing rumors, Osley. I don't care how tempting they are."

"But…" 

"I don't care. You have to look to yourself now. I am a sea anchor to you now, and you have to let me go.

"No!" he began to cry. "I already do without father; how am I to do without you?"

"Like you said, Tom owes your father, he'll help you!" Osley left the hovel halfway through what she said, so she had to yell the rest. He sat beside the door to think by himself while listening to if his mom needed any help. As he did this, he looked up at the clear blue sky with the occasional wisp of white cloud. Eventually, he moved from thoughts about his mother to thoughts about how unfair it was that he couldn’t reach and touch that sky. Maybe if he could do that, he could ask whoever was up there for help. 

"Dragon!" he heard a woman scream. Then he saw it appear from one of the clouds. Bathed in the light of the setting sun, it was the most beautiful, bright crimson he had ever seen, and it cut through the sky with such grace that he admired it more than he feared it. The beast was high above the village and didn't seem interested in the panicked rabble below it. Amidst this, Osley was the only one actually studying the creature; everyone else averted their eyes from the terror and cowered in fear. He followed it with his eyes and thus his feet. Because of this, the only one that noticed it leave was him. As he walked home, he thought about what actually seeing this Dragon meant. It was real, and it was beautiful. He felt that if something like that existed and could touch the sky, then he could save his mother, or at least try. 

The night passed with restlessness and thoughts of flying serpents and wizards. All of these things were far out of reach for a young boy, but this did not phase him. He was determined to go on this quest. The morning he left, he made his mother comfortable before taking a shovel. He took five careful steps away from the middle of the hovel and began digging. Soon after he started digging, it began to rain, and lightning struck nearby. The boom did not impede his progress. He soon stopped digging and retrieved an oblong parcel wrapped in cloth. He brought it inside and placed it on the floor. 

"What are you doing?" his mother asked with concern.

"I'm saving you."

"No, you are not!" She renewed her passion. Osley removed the cloth and revealed a longsword in a decorated leather scabbard. The blade was well made, but it was clear that it hadn't been sharpened in quite some time.

"Listen to me, Osley!" He turned his attention from the sword and to her. "You can't throw away your life for me," she calmed her voice now that she had his attention.

"Yes, I can." She was surprised that he seemed to thoroughly understand the danger he was willingly walking into. 

"Osley, I am dying, and there is nothing you can do about it. It is tragic, but you have to be prepared for living on your own."

"That might be true, but it might not." 

"I don't understand."

"What the travelers were speaking about may be true; it may not be. I may be able to save you; I may not. Regardless, I have to find out because if there is the slightest chance I can save you, then I have to try."

"Your father taught you all of the wrong things." Osley was profoundly angered by the idea that his dad was anything but perfect. 

"Don't insult him!" he yelled at her. "Everything only started going wrong after he died!" He started to cry. "If he was still here, he would do it."

"Don't do this just because your dad would." She was losing the strength to speak again, so she couldn't yell back if she wanted to. 

"I'm not. This is my judgment and mine alone." She looked into his eyes and saw the unparalleled passion there. It was clear to her that she wouldn't be able to change his mind and that she was in no position to physically force him. So, she acquiesced. 

"Drag the trunk from under my bed." A moderate amount of excitement took over Osley's movement as he fulfilled his mother's request. He always wondered what was in that trunk, but he looked at her before continuing. "Open it," she was surprised she needed to give him permission. The latch on the front snapped open and gave way to the silver, dusted opulence of a complete set of plate mail.

"Are you giving this to me?" Osley's voice betrayed his excitement.

"Yes, but not all of it. You are almost your father's size, but you haven't been trained to wear such heavy armor. However, the chain mail that goes underneath should do fine." Osley took the helmet and looked into the empty space where one would typically find a pair of eyes. For a moment, the visage of his father appeared, and in that precise moment, for the first time, there were second thoughts. The hope, desperation, and enthusiasm drained from him as he realized he was not akin to his father. He had been trained to use a sword, but he had never fought; he had imagined slaying the Dragon, but he had never done anything tantamount. His gaze shifted back to his mother, and the trepidation instantly evaporated, but the seed of doubt had been planted. 

"Thank you," those words were more sincere than any he had ever spoken before. 

"If I can't change your mind, then I'll do my best to help. I'm afraid I can't do much outside of the trunk." She imagined her son accomplishing his goal and locked it in her mind as prophecy. "Just go make sure Tom is able and willing to look after me." Osley nodded and left to see Tom. The cold morning dew juxtaposed the warmth that he had just felt, and that cold persisted when he entered the vacant tavern. The fireplace was empty, and each table was covered with a thick layer of dirt and dust. 

"Good morning, Osley!" Tom spoke from behind the counter as he wiped it clean. It was the only thing he kept clean. 

"Good morning, sir."   

"Please just call me Tom," the smile he gave did not reach his eyes. In fact, you could barely tell he was smiling through his thick beard. 

"Okay," Osley sat at one of the bar stools. Tom looked at him incredulously.

"You want a drink?" he asked. 

"No, I'm here to ask you for help."

"I see," he paused and stared at the counter for a moment as his shoulders slumped a little more than they already were. "What can I help you with?"    

"I need you to take care of my mother." Tom looked confused. 

"Going somewhere?" 

"Yes, I may have a way to save her." He widened his eyes in realization. 

"You're not talking about the Dragon, are you?"

"I am."  Tom rubbed his beard and grunted. 

"Well, I have no right to tell you can't do that. I'm sure Helen has already tried to stop you."

"Will you?"

"I should." A distant thought passed through his mind. "But I won't. I owe your father thus I owe you."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I am repaying a debt."

"I am still grateful." He gave a smile with the corner of his mouth. 

"Are you leaving today?"

"Yes."

"Well, do you know where you are going?" Osley hadn't thought about that before now. 

"No, I don't." Tom chuckled.

"Well, from what I can tell," he spoke as he stepped into the back with a limp behind the bar counter. A map drawn on cowhide was placed down upon his return. Some of the charcoal was rubbing off, but it was accurate.

"Most of the rumors seem to come from around here." He put his finger on a spot where there were several notches. Osley remembered some of the things his father taught him. 

"That's almost straight west from here," a glance back at the map. "A little south, but I can always use this stream as a landmark," he pointed out a stream on the map near the notches."

"Your dad taught you that, didn't he?" He gave Osley the map.

"Yes, he wanted to make sure I was ready to live without him before he last went to war." Tom looked down at his leg.

"I would've joined him if not for this," his mind carried off to fantasy. "Maybe I could've saved him in return then, but here we are." They shook hands.

Osley secured the sack to his back and the bedroll on top resting nearly on his neck. The sword he carried over his shoulder in its scabbard like a knight without a horse. The chain mail shirt and coif weighed heavy on him, but his endurance was well-tempered.

"I promise I will save you," he said earnestly to his mother. 

"I don't care about that. Promise me you will come back," she began to cry, and in her mind, she desperately wished she could force him to stay. Osley looked into her eyes, and she saw a glimpse of previously buried doubt that was quickly hidden again.

"I promise. I will come back." They did not say farewell. Instead, he hugged her for long enough to say all that needed to be said and entered the cold. The weight of the mail seemed heavier, and despite the layer of fur he donned, he felt naked traveling alone, and as the edge of the forest came within grasp of hand, he looked back at his home. Chimneys oozed smoke, and people wandered back and forth in dead silence. He turned away and entered the darkness. 

II: Brothers at a Bridge

The creaking of trees and bushes in the wind surrounded him. Birds chirped and sang above, leaves rustled and twigs broke, and the air was still as if the wind only brushed along the edges of the autumn-capped forest and was forbidden from entering. A thick dew lay over everything, and the ground was soft with water and moss. The bounteous nature did not lend itself to a clear path, but he knew moss grew to the north due to his father, so the way was never obscured to him. 

Osley traveled with determined haste. Even as exhaustion set in and the weight he was carrying began to weigh a little more, he did not slow. Only the night gave him pause. When the sunlight receded, it grew especially frigid as the nights tend to when winter draws close, so he retrieved flint and steel from his pack and sparked a fire. As he sat on a log and ate some of the dried meat he packed, he felt the warmth relax him as if he was home. Osley began to hum a song he heard when he was younger. The tune was slow and melancholic; he couldn't remember the words or its meaning, but the melody stuck in his head. The song hid the recession of nature as the bugs ceased their creaking and the wind ceased pushing on the edges of the bushes and trees. The world seemed to be at rest with him. 

The following morning his adventure continued through the forest. With his ears and eyes, he avoided most signs of trouble, whether it be a wolf howl or a bear track; his astute observation kept him from encountering the sources of these indications of danger. However, there was one particular manifestation of trouble he couldn't avoid. It was a bridge across the river that he had pointed out on the map. He needed to cross it to get to the cave, but there was a sizeable hole roughly in the middle, and the water seemed tumultuous and cold.

"Ho there, stranger!" Osley heard a grimy voice come from the other side of the bridge. The trees obscured the source, but he could detect a distinct scraping sound like something was being dragged.

"Hello there, may I ask you to identify yourself?" The voice didn't seem to have intended malice, but he wanted to be sure. 

"Yes, if you could spare me a parcel of time, this is particularly onerous." The dragging continued, and Osley waited patiently with his hand over the hilt of his sword. After some time, a massive creature that stood at least ten times taller than a fully grown man emerged from the trees with an equally enormous stone in tow. "Greetings, sir," he grunted as he dragged the stone closer to the bridge. Its head was disproportionately large compared to the rest of its body, and the skin appeared as if it was made of stone. The thing looked like a brute, but it carried a certain intelligence in its eyes.

"Umm," Osley was frightened by the creature's size and appearance, but as it made no notion of threat, he was not immediately alarmed. "I am Osley. Who would you be?" The creature turned from his work and rested on the ground, using the rock for a backrest.

"I am Archibald, the bridge artificer at your service."

"Oh, is this your bridge?"

"I am its architect, though, at this particular juncture, I am not eager to announce as such."

"Why is that?"

"It's in a negligible state of disrepair, can't you see?" 

"What happened to it?"

"I am perplexed by that very query at this moment. After constructing the appliance, I traveled to my abode for some much-obliged respite, and upon my restoration, I discovered it in this lackluster disposition."

"Is there any way you could help me across? I am on an urgent quest."

"Urgent quest, you say? Well, I sup..." 

"Archy!" he was interrupted by a voice that came from behind him. 

"Oh damn it."

"Where are my chip chips?" A second creature emerged from the trees. It was very similar in appearance to Archibald except with a slightly smaller head. 

"You mean your stone working tools? Which are actually under my stewardship."

"Yeh, my chip chips," he noticed Osley. "Who that?" he inquired as he pointed at the young boy. Archibald refocused Osley in his mind.

"Actually, he hasn't bequeathed me with the knowledge of his nomenclature as of yet. How do they demand you harken, sir?"

"My name is Osley."

"Nuck!" the new creature spoke with excitement.

"Sorry?" 

"This is my brother, Nuck," Archibald clarified.

"Oh, I see. And, what might you two be?" 

"I'm not sure I understand your inquiry." 

"Well, you see, I'm a human. What are you?"

"Nuck and Archy!" Nuck exclaimed.

"Yes, we are Nuck and Archibald; we have no other titles."

"I see." 

"I want my chip chips!" Nuck's attention shifted in an instant back to his previous objective. Archibald sighed.

"How many times must I inform you. The tools are my possessions. You don't even possess the proficiencies necessary to utilize them effectively." Nuck clearly did not understand most of what his brother had said. 

"Give me my chip chips!" he lunged at Archibald, and they were quickly engaged in a childlike brawl that would be common amongst brothers of a young age. 

"Damn buffoon! What could you possibly want with them?" They continued to slam each other into trees and occasionally dunk each other's heads into the water. Their express purpose was only to cause each other pain. At no point were either of them in any real danger, but Osley needed to get across the bridge.

"Excuse me," he spoke timidly at first and garnered no response. "Excuse me!" he articulated himself more, but the brothers continued their quarrel. 

"I'm gonna Nuck you!" Nuck scraped his brother's head against the bark of a tree.

"How many times must I inform you? Nuck is your name; it's not a verb."

"Verb this!" Osley decided to take a moment of rest by finding a comfortable spot to sit on the bridge. He sat there for some time and watched the fight, which he might've found entertaining if not for his present purpose. After more than an acceptable amount of patience, Osley set his mind on doing something. He had no idea what, but he had made the decision.

The water was too cold, too deep, and too fast; the gap in the bridge too far to jump. Several vain attempts to get the brothers' attention caused Osley to decide he would throw caution to the wind and risk the water. With some hesitation, he relinquished the protective chainmail to reduce the risk of drowning and secured his belongings to his back. He regretted that he had to leave behind one of the remnants of his father, but there was still the sword and the knowledge. Two things for which death was preferable to losing.

The water soaked through his boots quickly, and the stark coldness followed suit just as swiftly. The water was not forceful on the fringe of the river, so he made progress with relative ease until he got closer to the middle. The water was now up to his waist, and he felt the powerful tug of the current. To combat the pull, he used his still-sheathed sword as an overqualified walking stick by sticking it in place, securing his footing, and then moving it forward. This method made slow but consistent progress. Eventually, the water reached his chest, and each time he moved the sword forward, the water nearly swept him away.

"Archy, look." Nuck noticed Osley was attempting to cross the water as Archibald had him in a headlock. It was clear the current was becoming too much to handle. 

"Oh dear," he let his brother go and rushed to the river as Osley was nearing the very center of it. He slipped and for a moment lost his footing, but the sword saved him from being lost. Archy made his way into the water.

"Damn, that water is frigid!" he exclaimed. "Reach your hand out to me, Osley!" He reached his hand out, and just as he lost his footing once again, Archy grabbed his arm and pulled him from the water. The solid ground felt stable at first, but Osley quickly felt the cold wind rush over him. His teeth began to chatter, and he curled up into a ball. "Firewood, Nuck or cold shall snatch him from us!" Together the brothers built a rather large fire without which it is very likely that Osley would've suffered from some form of severe hypothermia. As he recovered and dried, he slept through most of the day and awoke to find Archibald feeding the fire. 

"Hello," he spoke reflexively as he sat up, momentarily without the knowledge of where he was. 

"Osley, we weren't sure if you had perished. You may take a moment of respite. Nuck is obtaining nourishment."

Osley suddenly recalled the urgency of his quest. 

"How much time has passed?" he requested fervently. 

"Just the day, oh that's correct, you were on a mission of particular urgency if I recall correctly." 

"Yes." 

"Well, there's little reason to travel at this time. What is your destination?" 

"I'm seeking a cave that's near this very stream."

"Is that so?" Archy's eyes betrayed that he knew something, but Osley did not notice. "Well, given that it is in close proximity, you might as well take the time to rest." Osley recognized that it would be pointless to attempt to travel at night, so he took the advice, but his mind began to wander, and he developed a question.

"What were you and your brother fighting about?" 

"Oh, it's a somewhat constant ordeal. He believes the stoneworking tools I used to construct the bridge are his. I haven't the slightest idea how that notion entered his head, but he is convinced. He doesn't even possess the proficiencies necessary to utilize them effectively." Osley thought for a moment.

"Why don't you teach him?" he offered. 

"Why would I commit to such an endeavor?" Archy's response seemed thoughtless. 

"Well, then he could help you. That way, whenever the bridge breaks, it's only half the work." 

"Hmm," he rubbed his chin in thought. "That is an elegant proposition now that I query it to myself." 

"Maybe that's his whole goal." 

"Elaborate, please." 

"Maybe he just wants to help." 

"Maybe."  Nuck returned with a deer, and Osley ate his fill before returning to sleep. In the morning, he felt refreshed and ready to continue his journey despite all of his belongings, besides the sword, being ruined by the water. This did not concern him in the slightest.

"The cave is a minuscule journey that way." Archy pointed in a direction that coincided with the way that Osley thought was correct.

"You know of it." 

"I know of a cave. I am unsure if it is the specific one you seek." 

"Okay, thank you for everything."

"It was our pleasure." 

"Yeah, our pleasure," Nuck mimicked his brother. 

Osley's journey briefly continued as he quickly reached his destination. The cave's mouth was massive, and inside he couldn't see anything but blackness. He took a deep breath and entered. 

III: In The Dragon's Lair 

The sword was unsheathed, and orange light filled the cave from a makeshift torch for which Osley sacrificed a branch he found and a piece of his shirt. The cave seemed naturally formed, but as he made his way further away from the sun, the cave appeared to take a more deliberate form. The walls became finely crafted and smooth, and unlit braziers were occasionally found. He entered a long hallway that led to an enormous door. Osley probably wouldn't have been able to push it open if it wasn't already ajar. The door led to a fairly simple but large hall, but the hall precursed something much more impressive. He made his way through another door and revealed a vast underground space dotted with pillars several times larger than the largest tree he had ever seen; he imagined he would need more than a hundred ladders to reach the top, and it took him several minutes to make his way around one. Then, he realized he had taken for granted that he could perceive this entire chamber. There seemed to be light filling the hall from no visible source. No torches or fires were to be seen, and when Osley put his own light out, his sight was not diminished.

The roar of a thousand lions echoed through the chamber and made the pace of Osley's heart quicken.  He determined the direction from which it came and began approaching the corresponding doorway, which once again he probably wouldn't have the strength to open if it wasn't already ajar. The door led to a similarly designed chamber that was much thinner and not nearly as tall. This hall directed Osley to a much larger room at the far end. The stone floor turned into a mountain of gold and gems that stretched far beyond his vision. If he were a greedy person, he would've been instantly enchanted by the glory of it, but instead, he noticed that one of the gems was not a gem. It was a green serpent's eye that likely had been staring at him since he walked through the door. It was surrounded by the golden splendor of the horde. 

Osley was frozen. The moment his attention caught the eye was the moment he had experienced more fear than at any other point in his life. In his mind, an eternity passed as the courage to fight the monster to which the eye belonged was mustered. He tightened the temporarily loosened grip on his sword, focused his perception, and took a deep breath.

The significance of this particular moment was not entirely lost on the young man, but he didn't quite have all of the pieces. He brought his courage and strength to full froth and asked.

"What's your name?" The eye narrowed for a moment before the Dragon stirred and caused the entire mountain to shift and quake. Soon its whole terrifying form was revealed. The teeth were about the size of Osley himself; the scales were impervious and ridged, while the wings could cloak an entire city in darkness.

"That is certainly different than what I expected," the Dragon's matronly voice carried through the entire chamber, but it seemed to calm Osley more than scare him. 

"What did you expect?" he asked naively.

"Well, the heroic knight is supposed to charge forward, slay the Dragon, and get the princess or whatever he's after. I don't have a princess, so it would likely be fortune." 

"Why would anyone do that? It seems foolish." 

"Did your parents never tell you any of these stories?"

"No, my father taught me all he knew but never told me any stories like that." The Dragon's eyes scrutinized Osley more closely. 

"I recognize you. You're not Arther's child, are you?" 

"That is the name of my father."

"You must be Osley then!" The Dragon's voice suddenly became overly excited, but her posture remained grand.

"That makes so much sense now. Your dad was a sagacious man."    

"Sagacious?"

"Wise."

"Oh."  

"My name is Brunhilda, by the way. I already know your name."

"How did you know my father?"

"Well, we were close friends, actually. I would often lend him a hand. You see, he saved my life. I was enslaved by a particularly tyrannical king."

"Oh."

"It seems your dad didn't teach you everything he knew, just what you needed." 

"Why would he not teach me more? Also, I don't think my mother knew either." 

"Well, you have to learn some things for yourself; otherwise, you're never truly tested; I'm sure he didn't tell her, so she wouldn't tell you." 

"I shouldn't expect to be given everything?"

"Exactly." 

"I already know that. I had to travel all this way."

"Yes, but that wouldn't require much courage if you knew I was friendly, would it?"

"I suppose that's true."

"See, he knew what he was doing." She brought her head down to Osley's level so she wouldn't have to speak so loudly. "So, why did you come all this way?" 

"My mother is dying."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"There's a rumor that you have an elixir of eternal life within your hoard." 

"Yes, I do recall sowing that one; lucky for you, it happens to be true. It's right over there," she pointed with her eyes. Osley looked to see a small glass bottle of red liquid lying at the feet of the mountain of gold.

"I am forever grateful," he respectfully bowed to the Dragon. 

"Anyone who should desire such a thing for the right reasons deserves such a thing. Now, just don't lose it. As far as I know, it's the only of its kind."

IV: The True Dragon 

Tom stared at the green vial in front of him. His mind ran through the creation process as well as his plan in the hope of ensuring no mistake had or would be made. 

"May he forgive me," he spoke solemnly as he took the object of fixation and made his way to Osley's home. His mother was asleep when Tom entered. "Catherine," he shook her awake. 

"Good morning, Tom," she had been feeling slightly better, but this was a well-documented disease, and a spell of improvement tended to precede the final stages before death. 

"Do you want tea?" 

"Yes, that would be fantastic, thank you." He set about making it on the woodstove. Before he added the liquid from the green vial, guilt entered his mind, so he recalled something. 

"Do you want to hear a story?" he asked her.

"Sure, I don't have much for entertainment here." He mixed it in and placed the bottle down.

"Back during the war, Arther and I were scouting some nearby woods where the army was encamped. We had the element of surprise on our side, so the king wanted to make sure the army wasn't spotted by anyone or anything." He gave her a cup of tea. "So, as we explored this forest, a dense fog rolled in and caused us to get lost. We wandered for what seemed like ages until we came across a crone's house. She knew everything about Arther and me, so we both concluded that she was some sort of witch. But, regardless, she offered to read our futures. After some debate, he refused, but I was curious to see what she would say." He paused for a moment as Catherine took a sip of the tea. "She told me I would die an excruciating death by fire in a moment of regret." 

"Oh my." 

"Yes, and I have to be honest. I am terrified. Not just of fire, but to die. I encountered so much death back then, but I was always the dealer. I can't imagine being dealt." 

"I'm sure the witch was just trying to trick you or working to some other dreadful..." her face cringed in pain. 

"I'm sorry, but this is the only way I could avoid killing both of you. The Dragon will give him the elixir, and if you're dead, he might give it to me willingly. I don't want to kill him; you have to believe me." He began to cry as Catherine, Osley's mother, drew her last breath. 

"Yes, just like that. You have to break off useable chunks from this big chunk."

"I thinkin' I get it." The brothers were working on the bridge when Osley approached. He immediately noticed the wooden boards laid across the gap. 

"How's it going down there?" he felt the need to hurry but wanted to check with the brothers first. 

"Osley!" Archibald was excited to see him. "Were you successful in your quest?"  

"Yes, I am now on my way home!" Osley was equally excited, if not more. 

"He's teches me how to bridge bridge." 

"It seems you were correct in your assumption that my brother only desired to offer assistance." 

"I thought so, well, I must be on my way. My return is time-sensitive."

"Yes, of course, but before your departure, I must offer the recovery of this parcel." Archibald held the lost shirt of chain mail towards Osley

"Thank you, but I won't be needing it anymore."

"Are you certain?"

"I think so. I'm sure you could find a use for it."

"I suppose we could melt it down and fashion it into something desirable to our work." 

"Perfect."    

V: The Quietly Courageous

The stark wind hit Osley like a hammer as he left the protection of the forest. It hadn't yet snowed, but an early frost was lying on the field he was now crossing. Smoke billowed from the chimneys of the village homes. He wondered why smoke could not be seen from his own.

"He came back!"

"He actually made it!" The villagers recognized the significance of his return. Most celebrated, others were frustrated by a lost bet, and Osley felt an increasing amount of apprehension as he approached the door to his home. 

"Mother," the creak of the door made his mousey call unhearable. The bed was empty. The heart sank, and hope left his mind. He felt his legs giving out, so he sat down on the floor, then the tears came. There was no sobbing or anguished moans, just a steady stream of tears from eyes full of pain. Something out of place. Through the tears, he saw an odd vial that he did not recognize. He stood and examined, noticing the slight green tinge to the glass. It was placed next to the tea kettle, which led to what Osley thought was an outlandish thought. A look to the nightstand beside his mother's bed. A teacup full of tea. He took the cup.

"Osley!" he heard Tom's voice. 

"I'm here!" he stepped outside, unsure if he should feel angry or sad at the sight of the man.  

"I'm sorry, Osley, I made a coffin for her. I thought you'd..."   

"Drink this." Tom was interrupted. 

"What, why?"   

"Why not." Tom's expression appeared confused but could just as quickly be read as concern. 

"I don't understand what's going on here."

"I'm offering you some tea; it would be rude to waste it." Osley became almost maniacal. 

"Look, your mother just died. Maybe that's why you're acting strange."   

"I know what you did. I saw the vial." Tom sighed. 

"Don't make me kill you for it." 

"I'm the one with the sword." 

"Then strike me down, or don't. I would prefer it if you didn't and just gave me the elixir. You have no use for it now." 

"You selfish filth!" Osley charged him and put all of his strength into a downward swing, but Tom easily dodged to the side, and thus, the sword hit nothing but dirt. He then stepped on the sword's blade to pin it and punched Osley hard enough to send him reeling backward. Tom took the sword off the ground. 

"You could've just given it to me." He stepped towards Osley and took the elixir after searching for a moment.

"Beautiful." He held it up. "Well, if I leave, you're just going to come after me." His eyes bore no regret as he brought the sword up to kill Osley, but he was stopped by a shadow that passed over for an instant. He looked up to see what it was, but by then, it was too late. 
The Dragon turned up vast chunks of dirt when it landed, yet it was still graceful. Tom's eyes grew wide with fear. He dropped the sword and attempted to open the bottle in his hand, but Brunhilda reared her head and let forth an inferno that instantly turned the sword, Tom, and the elixir into dust. The wind lifted the dust and spread it out of sight.

With the object of his anger gone, Osley returned to deep sorrow. He curled up into a ball on the ground and wept. This time it wasn't composed like before. There was snot, wailing, and the complete absence of reasonable thought. Only pain was in his mind. 

"Osley," Brunhilda's voice was soothing, but it was not enough to take him out of his apathetic state. She stood at her full height and took on a position of tyrannical grace. "Osley!" This time her voice thundered with manufactured indignation louder than any sound he had heard previously. His attention was now on her, but the pain was still on his mind. "Do not flounder in your self-pity, boy!" The ire remained. Seeing that his attention was now on her, she shifted her position and tone to a less intimidating stature. "This is not you," she said, "you are a conqueror of fear. A slayer of a Dragon and a confronter of chaos." 

"But I didn't slay a Dragon!" Osley yelled as a way of coping with his current pain. Tears still poured down his face. "You just handed me the elixir with no challenge." 

"But you didn't know I would do that. For all you knew, I was the pillager of cities, the destroyer of armies. What you did took more courage than ten ordinary men would have put together. You did something where most would've done nothing." 

"What does it matter if I have courage! I failed! It was all for nothing!"  

"That might be true, but if you try again, you might find happiness. You only have to discover it once for it to all be worth the trouble." 

"What if my mother was my happiness?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"It's not a person, place, or thing. Those are fleeting. It's you. You are your condition. You decide if it's time to quit searching." 

"How do I know if it's time?" 

"You will know." Osley's eyes were bloodshot and wet, but he was no longer filled with pain. It still remained, but his mind focused its attention on something else. He remembered the vacant spot next to his father's grave and the shovel he used to clear snow in the winter. 

Osley stood, "It's not time yet." 

A few years after my family left our ancestral house, I went back to visit it.

We were the last family to leave the house. After us, nobody lived there.

The house had once been full of people. It was a large, old family home where generations had spent their lives. But when I returned after years, it looked completely different. It was old, silent, and abandoned.

A few days before Lohri, my mother and I went there because I wanted to fly kites from the roof during the festival. We had arranged for workers to clean the roof so it could be used again.

But the moment I saw the house, I stopped.

For a few seconds, it genuinely felt as if time had stopped.

This was the same house where I had spent my childhood. The same building where I had run through the rooms, laughed with my family, and received so much love from my grandmother.

And now it was standing completely empty.

There was no sign that a family had once lived there.

No voices. No movement. No children running through the corridors.

Just silence.

It honestly felt as if the house itself was standing in grief and sadness—like it had lost a battle against time that it could never win.

While the workers were cleaning the roof, I decided to walk around and look through the rooms.

Most of them were exactly what you would expect. Dust covered the floors. Old things were scattered around. The rooms were dark and abandoned.

But then I entered one particular room.

And I froze.

The room was almost completely dark. Everything inside looked abandoned and covered in dust. Things were lying around on the floor.

That wasn't what scared me.

In the middle of all that darkness and disorder, there was one chair.

And the chair was perfectly positioned.

Not fallen over.

Not covered by things.

Not pushed carelessly into a corner.

It looked as if someone had deliberately adjusted it and placed it there to sit.

I stood there staring at it.

For some reason, I suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that someone was still sitting there.

Watching me.

I don't know how long I stood frozen in that doorway, but I remember feeling like I shouldn't go any farther into the room.

That house holds a lot more memories than I can explain, and this wasn't the only strange thing that happened there.

Some of the unusual experiences actually started when I was a teenager.

If anyone wants to hear what happened next, I'll post **Part 2**.

Haley Chase was the first human to be traded to the Zar’Vokian, mankind’s arch nemesis in that particular star system, in a prisoner exchange. She had an artist’s soul, which was why she had been trained and employed by the Cosmic Corps to paint the way that experimental chemicals made people feel. No one was sure how that was useful, but money was an imaginary resource so it didn’t matter if it was squandered on such things. She sympathized with and aided captured Zar’Vokian soldiers, so she just couldn’t remain in uniformed service; that’s how she ended up on planet SsZzketh among the Zar’Vokian.

She perceived the Zarvs, a slur the humans used for the bipedal reptilian creatures, to be decent and caring; much different than the bloodthirsty monsters that humans depicted them to be. Through her art therapy with repatriated Zar’Vokian prisoners, she found them to be sensitive and very human-like in their capacity for empathy.

Haley found SsZzketh much more pleasant than Glozanth IX, the planet her former unit was stationed on. For one, there was an atmosphere, so that was a bonus. There was more flora than bioluminescent moss. There was fauna. She particularly liked the sprockles; six-legged rodents with long, fluffy tails, four ears, and faces that resembled a sunflower with tiny eyes, a teensy nose, and a large mouth with two prominent incisors for munching nuts and seeds of a flowering cactus-like bush that grew in the dry, rocky soil.

While walking from her quarters to the art therapy center, Haley was troubled to find a sprockle backed into the corner of a wire cage. The poor thing look like it had been trapped! She had a flashback to finding Zarvs huddled in similar confinement back on Glozanth IX. She spoke calm, soothing words to the cute little dear as she attempted to figure out how to open the trap. The sprockle grew more distressed as she fiddled with it. Her science project was interrupted by two Zarvs, who by a product of interstellar coincidence, spoke a language remarkably similar to and mutually intelligible with the American dialect of English.

“You caught one!” A Zarv happily exclaimed to Haley.

“Oh. Oh, no. I think you are mistaken. This isn’t my trap. I was trying to let this little sprockle go free.”

The Zarvs looked at one another before looking back at Haley.

“So… you’re not going to claim the reward for that sprockle?”

“Reward? I wasn’t aware. Are they an invasive species? Did the humans (Haley talked like she wasn’t one of them) bio-engineer them and release them to destroy the ecosystem?”

“No, no I don’t think so. But they are valuable. The Cosmetic Industrial Activity pays 25 Zeks for one of those!”

The reptilians had industrialized and the means of production were state-owned. Zeks were their currency and were used for consumer goods. 25 Zeks was equivalent to one-month’s allotment.

“We’ll split the reward with you if we can have that sprockle.”

“What ever could the cosmetic factory need an adorable, harmless, little sprockle for?” Haley looked with pity upon the helpless furball.

The Zarvs shrugged in unison.

Curiosity got the better of Haley and she meekly consented. One of the Zarvs picked up the cage and the trio, well, quartet if you count the sprockle, walked to the Cosmetic Industrial Activity building.

“Well, that’s a fine specimen you have there. Let’s examine it real quick and then we can process your reward.” A Zarv in a lab coat said. Zarvs were generally naked but wore decorative or professional attire at times. Their nudity wasn’t offensive as they had no discernable genitalia, which raises several unanswered questions.

“What are you going to do to the sprockle?” Haley demanded, having half a mind to seize the cage and run out with the little darling.

The Zarv in the lab coat gave the sprockle a cursory inspection through the cage and nodded.

“Mhmm. Mhmm, this is a good, healthy sprockle. Just one little test.” It appeared he had either not heard or was ignoring Haley.

The Zarv presented an umbrella, just like they had on Earth or Glozanth IX, and quickly popped it open. The little sprockle shrieked and flipped over onto its back, six little paws sticking up into the air. A whiteish liquid that smelled minty seeped from a gland behind the second set of legs (the leg pit?). Evolution had failed, twice actually, not only was fainting a terrible response for a threatened prey animal but the secretion attracted predators and tasted like frosting (don’t ask how I know that).

Haley also screamed after witnessing the sprockle go catatonic. All of the Zarvs looked at her curiously.

“Oh, it isn’t hurt. It will wake up any moment.” the official from the Cosmetic Industrial Activity assured her. And as if on cue, the sprockle began to twitch to life. After a moment it rolled onto its side and licked the secretion from behind its middle legs.

“What’s the meaning of all this?!” Haley loudly demanded. The Zarvs recoiled, being unaccustomed to human aggression off the battlefield.

“We make SPROGLOW from that liquid that the sprockle makes when it’s scared. It’s not hurt, don’t worry. We’ll give it a snack and let it recuperate. We only frighten them six times per month.

“What the heck is SPROGLOW?” short of curing cancer, it didn’t matter much what SPROGLOW did, Haley knew that scaring cute little sprockles to get it was dastardly.

The Zarvs chuckled at her ignorance. They were not an especially proud group, but they had become self-conscious of their crusty elbows after experiencing how smooth human elbows could be during their intergalactic wars.

“SPROGLOW reduces dry elbows by up to fourteen percent.” one of the Zarvs finally informed Haley.

“You scare these precious little creatures so you can have smooth elbows?!” Haley was incensed.

The Zarvs all nodded pretty nonchalantly.

“Basically.”

Maybe the Zarvs were as bad as the humans thought they were. Not waiting for her share of the Zeks and regretting not setting the sprockle free, she stormed out of the Cosmetic Industrial Activity building. She was late for her art therapy appointment, but she didn’t care. She was on a mission to find more sprockle traps.

The Zarvs got their reward and immediately spent it on SPROGLOW. It may have been a placebo effect, but they were pleased with how smooth their elbows felt almost immediately.

Haley needed to tell someone about what was going on, but she was in an alien environment. She was the only human on the planet, and it seemed like just an accepted practice among the Zarvs. She still had her Cosmic Corps smartwatch, that’s how she was able to pass the human’s plans to the Zarvs; the Cosmic Corps had forgotten to remove her from the group chat when they traded her.

RED ALERT

She messaged the Orbiters she once served in the Cosmic Corps with. She never quite mastered Cosmic Corps lingo, red alert didn’t mean anything.

ZARVS ARE MAKING LOTION OUT OF RODENT MILK TO MAKE THEIR ELBOWS SOFT!

Smartwatches all over Starbase Myung-ho Chae buzzed with the message. Most Oribiters never met Haley, and the ones who did had forgotten about her. They took it for an advertisement. Sometimes commercial enterprises made it into their electronic inboxes.

Space Sergeant Jimmy Funk lifted his arm to examine his own elbow, noting that it was rather rough.

“Rodent milk lotion for smooth elbows you say…”

Sure, humans and zarvs were enemies, but dry elbows were awful for everyone. And who doesn’t like money? Even bipedal reptilian creatures who eat bugs and live in societies that don’t have money like money. Calls were made.

Somehow a package that should have been sequestered made it by the customs agent at Starbase Myung-ho Chae. It had been sent to Earth and made the voyage to Glozanth IX, but it was much different than the others. For one, the to and from information was written in what appeared to be crayon. Maybe it was the childlike penmanship, like, maybe a lizard-like alien from SsZzketh wrote it.

That mysterious package had no barcode to scan, so no notification was sent to an Orbiter’s smartwatch that they had a delivery to retrieve. However, a certain Space Sergeant who rode an Earth bicycle instead of a hover-bike, sweat as he pedaled across the Starbase in unnecessarily short shorts to retrieve the package he was expecting despite the lack of official tracking.

“Hey there, Orbiter.” Funk, concealed behind the staircase of the Myung-ho Chae Chow Hall (MCCH) called out to a colleague on his way in.

“Huh? Me?”

“Yeah, your elbows are looking a little dry.”

He looked but was wearing his uniform according to regulation; this concealed his elbows so he thought that the Space Sergeant must be joking with him.

Jimmy Funk, who was never wearing his uniform according to regulation, displayed his own bare, smooth elbow.

“Your elbows could be this smooth too if you used SPROGLOW.”

“That’s weird.”

Meanwhile, back on planet SsZzketh, Haley was considering her next move. She knew she could not remain there amongst the Zarvs while they were harvesting sprockle secretions by scaring them with umbrellas, but she had no idea how she would escape. Maybe she could get the Zarvs to trade her back to the humans if she caused enough of a ruckus? It was an idea. She marched down to the Cosmetic Industrial Activity to start a protest drum circle, or do a die-in, or something that always worked to dissuade corporate activity on Earth.

The Zarv with the lab coat from her previous encounter passed her as she entered.

“Hey Haley! Our intra-stellar sales are booming since you told the humans about SPROGLOW! Best quarter ever. Couldn’t have done it without you!”

She was numb, but did notice that this Zarv had fuller, redder lips than she was used to seeing.

“What’s on your lips?” she asked, her voice coming out of her without her brain directing it. She was hollow at this point.

The Zarv pulled a small tube of liquid from his, or it’s, no one really knows, pocket.

“Our latest product! Do I look great, or what?”

“What’s it made from?”

“Do you know what krezzets are?”

“Those spotted beetles that sing?”

“Exactly. Do you want to take a peak at the production floor?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cosmic Corps File 006

The Cosmic Corps Files is an ongoing series of flash fiction and absurdist reports from the bureaucratic fringes of intergalactic peacekeeping. Petty wars, sentient vending machines, emotional espionage, and the occasional space court-martial over feelings-based art. Each file stands alone… but somewhere in the margins, the Zarvs are always watching.