Suddenly worsen crossword clue

Just discovered that my daycare is giving my son (14mos) a pacifier during the day, although we’ve never used one at home and don’t allow it anywhere else. (We live near his daycare and I routinely see them on their morning walk, which is how I discovered the pacifier use.) setting aside that I have no clue where the pacifiers are coming from (not me), how do I handle this? How can I make sure this stops when I can’t be at the daycare to monitor? I have reached out to the daycares director and hopefully she will have some answers.
Beyond that, how do I help my son deal with how confusing it might be to suddenly stop getting a pacifier, when he’s gotten used to using one during the day? I’m apparently going to need to wean him off something I never got him on in the first place….

23f, 174cm, 68kg // Dx ADHD ASD Raynaud's IBS-D // Daily Lisdexamfetamine 60mg // cannabis few times a week, drink twice a month or so
Hello, so for some context I have had sleep issues since around puberty. As a teenager I was never able to get up on a morning and my brain and body would not naturally tire until around 4am. I remember, as a younger teen and child, the feeling of being sleepy - yawning, eyes feeling heavy, feeling comfy or content, poorer focus...as an adult I do not get this until sunrise in summer. This wasn't disabling as a teenager as I could "get away" with more, but it is a severe issue when it comes to having to work on a morning. I'm currently mostly unemployed, but am nervous of starting again as this historically has made me chronically late or unreliable. Permanently having the sleep schedule of a depressed teenager is, well, making me feel a bit depressed! I love mornings and wish to be active during them, but instead spend most of my day lethargic.
After diagnosis of both aged 20 I have realised an active brain due to ADHD and sensory issues from ASD exacerbate this, but I can't find any specific recommendations for these bar melatonin in relation to ADHD. My GP will not prescribe melatonin for me as it requires lots of paper work - it's approved for children with ADHD, or adults with CFS/ME, but not adults with ADHD in my region. This is frustrating as I've trialled melatonin in the past and it worked at doses as low as 1mg 2-3 times a week and my pattern would still be more regular the days I didn't take it.
I used to be able to get up on a morning and do my daily tasks regardless of sleep deprivation, but have recently hit a wall where I literally don't wake up. I set 5 alarms and turn them all off half asleep! I tend to wake at 9am to take my ADHD medication, and immediately fall back asleep and sleep until 12. For months I haven't been able to get up before 12 and usually start my day at 2pm. A huge portion of this problem is being unable to get to sleep at a reasonable time, and then being blackout drowsy on a morning as well as having aching muscles, a runny nose, headache or otherwise just feeling under the weather if I wake at a normal time.
Things I've tried:

• Only using bed for sleep or sex, no screens or artificial light
• Reading before bed
• Not eating before bed, or eating before bed (the latter helps a little if very high in processed carbs, lol)
• Getting up when I can't sleep and making a cup of herbal tea or doing a crossword
• Herbal teas like hibiscus, chamomile, lemon balm, lavender as well as lavender sprays, valerian root, magnesium
• Forced sleep deprivation to try to reset the cycle, up to and including at times all-nighters. Doesn't matter, don't tire normally regardless
• Reducing Lisdexamfetamine dose - this makes it worse; LDX appears to have a calming effect on my thoughts which helps sleep more than it hinders
• Completely cutting caffeine, alcohol, cannabis, even down to no green tea, soda or chocolate etc. No effect
• Different diets - low carb, whole foods, high protein/fat, no processed sugars. A high protein, low sugar diet improves my daytime energy but again, no effect on sleep
• Exercise - I walk regularly and lift weights, and am quite fit - for example my most recent walk this week we hiked 18 miles! My feet were ruined, but we didn't tire - I'm not sure I could do much more 😂
• Daily mindfulness, meditation, ASMR, yoga, so on so forth. This helps manage mood otherwise but my mood seems genuinely independent to my sleep problems

Things doctor has tried:

• Chlorphenamine, no effect
• Mirtazapine, nighttime food cravings made sleeping harder
• 7x Zopiclone per month, effective at helping sleep 2x a week and keeping the pattern going forth, no improvement on sleep quality
• 14x Promethazine, fantastic for my sleep quality and overall felt the most rested
• Blood tests, I have high testosterone out of range but not alarmingly so and mostly everything is normal (checked things like thyroid, vitamins)

Unfortunately, although I impressed to my doctor this issue has gone on for a decade, I was prescribed promethazine and zopiclone after the first two didn't work. They were effective but of course can't be used longterm so the script was stopped again a year ago with no further guidance. Melatonin was just as effective but I would have to order from another country which doesn't reassure me in it being the correct choice.
My questions are - why do I struggle to sleep so much and get up? Are there possible factors I haven't considered? I don't have any personal gripes against being asleep, I don't spend every night checking the time and cursing being awake, it's like my brain just won't do the thing and hasn't since puberty.
From my perspective, it's like my natural sleep cycle is totally backwards and obviously worsens in summer as if sunrise is my trigger to sleep. Is it possible to genetically or otherwise have an inclination towards being nocturnal, or am I cracking up? Should I learn to just accept this is my natural state and plan my life and work around it?

(Firstly, I just want to apologize for this post being a bit long, I'm just trying to express each and every one of my thoughts on this issue of mine in as thorough of a manner as possible. Also, I should state that although this is an issue that really does deeply impact my mental health, the primary reason I feel like this sub is the best place to post this is due to the fact that every other place I thought of to post it (advice, vent, etc.) seem to have either clear rules that my post breaks, or rules that are worded just vaguely enough for me to not be sure.)
When I hear even the smallest, slightest criticism towards something I enjoy, I immediately feel like it’s the absolute worst thing ever and that I’m an idiot and there’s something wrong with me for enjoying it. For instance, one of my favorite games of all time is Half-Life 2. That game got AMAZING critical reception and countless awards. Some people, however, claim that it doesn’t hold up today and is overrated. When I say some people, I mean what is probably about 1 in every 50 people who have played it. But to ME, it feels like 49,999 in every 50,000.
Seriously, even the smallest criticisms towards the things I enjoy are enough to make me feel so bad about my enjoyment of them that I suddenly don’t want to play/watch/listen to/whatever that particular thing for like 2 weeks straight. Even if it’s a poor criticism that doesn’t make sense, it STILL makes me feel insecure. Hell, a couple years ago, I was in a discord call, playing a game with a friend of mine, and a few of his discord friends who I didn’t even know the NAMES of, and have never even heard of since. They were basically complete strangers to me. Yet, one of them stated that an ITEM from a game I like had a stupid name, and that TINY LITTLE COMMENT was enough to make me feel slightly upset. Let me restate that for you: Someone who was basically a complete stranger to me said that an ITEM from a game that I like had a stupid name, and that was enough to make me feel upset. I’m dead serious, my problem is that bad.
Sometimes it doesn't even have to be an actual criticism to get under my skin. Someone could just say something as simple as "I dislike [insert thing I like here]" And it's enough to make me think "Oh god, do they dislike it because they're smarter than me and are able to analyze it better than me, and realize why that particular thing is actually garbage???"
It also really doesn’t help that it feels as though a very large majority of the time, when I was growing up, whenever I developed an interest in a new “thing”, it was always through experiencing whatever is usually almost universally agreed upon by the fanbase to be the worst entry or version of whatever that thing is. For example, growing up, I got into the Transformers franchise through the live action Michael Bay movies, which seem to be constantly trashed by movie critics and fans alike, and I also got into Indiana Jones through Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, which the entire fanbase seems to agree is the absolute worst movie in the series. I’m a big fan of horror, because when I was very young, I used to watch lots of let’s plays of shitty early 2010s indie horror games and listen to tons of creepypasta narrations on YouTube. To this day, I still go back and watch Markiplier’s old horror game let’s plays from time to time, and unironically enjoy creepypastas and other internet horror stories. However, as I previously stated, a lot of those games were really terrible looking back, and creepypastas and other internet urban legends are so heavily criticized and trashed that even the very word “creepypasta” seems to have negative connotations tied to it. And that makes me feel bad for enjoying them.
I really haven’t seen that many movies in my life, but I find that I end up enjoying probably about 9 out of every 10 movies I see. In fact, one of my favorite “once in a while” special activities that I enjoy doing with friends and/or family is going to the movie theater. I like the atmosphere of the lobby, the food, the smells, the lights, the overall “aesthetic”, and even things as simple as getting real comfortable in my seat and watching the previews. But despite all this, I really can’t say I like movies as a whole that much, and I rarely find myself interested in watching new movies, at the theater (Hell, I’d even argue that I’m more excited for the theater itself than the actual movie) OR at home. Why? Like I’ve said before, I find myself coming out of almost every single movie, out of the few that I have seen in my life, thinking “That was pretty good! I enjoyed that a lot!” But then when I get home, I scroll the internet and start seeing reviews for the very same movie I watched, and it feels like 99.999% of the time, EVERYONE is shitting on it. It makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me for enjoying it, and it makes me feel bad. It makes me want to just stop watching movies altogether. So this whole problem is actually causing me to deprive myself of new, fun experiences and discovering new areas of my own happiness. Not just in movies, They just work best for an example in this context, but in everything. This problem also partially makes me want to actually avoid thinking critically about why I enjoy certain things, because I’m afraid of slowly realizing that the things I enjoy, upon closer inspection, are terrible and I’m a moron for enjoying them.
Sometimes I try to think to myself “Okay, maybe the things I enjoy really are “objectively bad”. But even if they are, so what? Is there really a problem with having “bad taste?” And that’s when I start coming across these internet armchair psychologists who try to tell me that the things you enjoy somehow tie into and reflect on things like your inner psychology, your values, your background and upbringing, etc. and therefore if you have bad taste, there’s something wrong with you, you’re a bad person, and you’re everything that’s wrong with society. (I’m paraphrasing, but you get my point) There was a franchise of games I used to love, and my favorite game in that franchise happened to be the one that half of the fanbase seemed to absolutely hate. I read a comment on that particular game’s subreddit, explaining why they enjoyed the “worst” game in that franchise. Some guy replied to him, basically telling him that the original commenter was satisfied with less, and therefore he was the reason that these big game companies are able to keep getting away producing terrible low-quality broken games (or something like that. Again, paraphrasing.) And I fear that he’s right. Our enjoyment of that game is inherently a bad thing and we should feel bad about it. Often times, these criticisms also give me a feeling as though the person giving them is trying to "debunk" my reasons for enjoying a particular thing, and that feeling really REALLY gets under my skin.
I know trolling assholes on the internet are the last people you want to listen to when it comes to these sorts of things, but for some reason, I still can’t help but worry that deep down they’re actually right, and everything I enjoy really is terrible, I have terrible taste, there’s something wrong with me, I’m a bad person, and I should feel bad about it. I’ve had these insecurities all my life, but it wasn’t until the last few years that I’ve actually realized it due to the fact that it was worsening, and it wasn’t until the last few months that I got the idea to attempt to reach out to anyone in order to figure out why I have this problem and how I can stop it.
Sometimes, I read and hear criticisms towards things I like that are worded in a very harsh, hostile, angry manner, and THOSE ones instead make me react with irrational anger. Sometimes those types of criticisms make me feel so upset that I start imagining myself lashing out in anger towards those critics by taking a blunt object and hitting them with it. I don’t think it takes a genius to figure out why that’s a problem. Although I think this particular aspect of my problem ties into another separate issue I have, which I might talk about another time.
Why do I let other people’s opinions have so much power over my enjoyment of the things that make me happy?
I feel like this whole problem most likely ties into an even grander issue I have, which I’ll touch on more in (what will probably be) my next reddit post.
So why do I have this issue? Are all those internet assholes and critics really right? Is there really a problem with me enjoying things that aren’t “objectively” good, and therefore there’s something wrong with me? And if not, how do I stop feeling this way?

Hi
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This and last year have been so hard to deal with, and I am struggling to do anything every single day. I want to live, I want to be okay, but nothing is okay in my life and its getting ever harder and harder to cope.
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Last last year I broke up with my ex, which we still continue seeing each other and there is so much conflict there, hurt and lack of understanding. I was diagnosed ADHD at the beginning of this year, and was medicated which helped heaps for several months. I was later diagnosed with heart failure and since then everything in my life has declined at a pace I cannot deal with. There are days where I get symptoms of heart failure and it destroys me. I go to hospital and the person I care about most does not take it seriously. Furthermore I was effectively fired, or made redundant from my job as a result of decreased performance, and poor communication. My poor communication was me taking days off frequently as a result of my heart failure.
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I cant be medicated with anti depressants or ADHD medication due to a risk of worsening the heart failure, or 'sudden death'.
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I don't have the energy to talk to family. I don't want to see friends. Doing chores is near impossible. I start a new job soon, and I do not want to. I don't want to do anything.
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I am tired of overwhelming feelings that are constant.
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I am 21 and so tired.

I gave in to cravings and I spent the last week drinking again. 2 litres of vodka and 2 18 packs. In the past week I've given myself more bruises than I can count from drunken falls and I wouldn't be surprised if I hit my head a few times. And several brownouts.
Last night it really turned bad. I was drunk and suicidal and I wanted to go to an AA meeting. Which requires catching 2 buses and a short walk. I'd had about 500ml of vodka in the past 2 hours by the time I left, bearing in mind I weigh about 110lbs. I didn't realize how drunk I was until I was at the bus terminal and all of a sudden I realize the security guard is asking if I'm okay. I was very confused and disoriented, but I explained where I was trying to go and he helped me catch the right bus. So I get to the bus stop nearest the meeting and I pull up Google maps and the rest of it is a complete blur. But from what I pieced together from my texts that I sent to my friend last night and my location history on my phone, I somehow ended up walking into a random stranger's house. I vaguely remember people yelling at me and threatening me and I ended up sitting on the curb and crying for a while because I was so drunk and confused and lost and scared. I got up and kept trying to find the meeting but I had zero clue where I was. I ended up calling my flatmate because I didn't know what to do and she told me to Uber home. I had to transfer money from savings because I'd spent all my money that week on alcohol and food. But eventually I managed to Uber home.
The real kicker is that according to my location history, at one point I was standing right outside the meeting but I walked right past it.
So yeah, I woke up this morning hungover, depressed, confused and trying to figure out what had happened, and covered in dirt and bruises with my friends and flatmates all asking if I was alive and if I was okay.
I'm so lucky that things didn't turn out worse. I could've been assaulted, hit by a car. Hell, I could've been arrested, or murdered.
Benders never end well. Hopefully I've finally learnt my lesson.

Hello everyone! I am new here and to BP2 as I only started suspecting it recently. I am at the moment in my hypomanic state, as I am now identifying it, which makes me write excessively, but I will try my best to be concise. [Now editing my post, I see I have failed. Sorry.]
I'm 32 years old and have never been diagnosed with bipolar. In fact, while I've been depressed on and off (mostly on) for more than half my life, it's never even been seriously considered. This is probably because I have always refused even the very idea of it, because I felt I didn't fit the symptoms and because, I now realize, I have been terribly misinformed about what bipolar is.
I recently got this sudden idea basically out of nowhere that maybe last summer when I plunged into a sudden and deep depression after an extremely productive and happy spring, it may not have been depression that was wrong, but that I was indeed hypomanic preceding it. I have not wanted to even consider this because I would like to think that my extreme productiveness is a personality trait and that my depression just gets in the way of my potential.
However, this time the thought didn't leave me alone. I kept thinking, and re-thinking, and reading, and tracking my symptoms and going through my past again and again, finding more clues. I talked with my therapist, and a nurse, and a doctor, all of whom agree that this sure sounds like bipolar, and I now have an appointment with a psychiatrist in two weeks (which feels like an eternity!!!).
It was at this point, two days ago, that I decided to tell my husband. We have been together for three years, married for one, but living together only for a couple days now, as he had to live in another city for work before. My husband has never really taken my mental health problems seriously. He, like many of my past doctors, seems to think that if I just lighten up a bit and stop being so demanding towards myself, all will be well.
As I suspected, he did not believe I am hypomanic, and he does not believe I have bipolar. Indeed, he is convinced that it's impossible for me to have bipolar because I realized it myself. It is apparently rare for a person to seek help during hypomania or mania, but here we are. He also said that should I get a new diagnosis, I should avoid medication (advice that I'm absolutely not taking by the way). I presented him with some of my evidence, for example the fact that I have lost more than half of my savings in less than three months, but that did not sway him.
So now I'm facing a life-changing diagnosis and my husband truly does not seem to care. We talked about it once and have not talked about it since. I feel pretty alone, and I would feel desperate to make him understand except that in my current state of mind I find it hard to care about things that would have previously upset me. Since he does not believe I have a problem, I can't really count on him to reel me in if I start getting out of control. I don't know what will happen if he doesn't come to terms with my (possible) diagnosis.
I guess I'm writing this mostly for peer support, but I do welcome any helpful tips and advice as well (although I am very bad at accepting reasonable advice, especially in my hypomanic episodes).

This is not about me, this is about my partner, and I need as much help as I can find, without going into serious detail, my partner has been diagnosed with Cptsd for almost a decade now, shes gone through many forms of trauma in her life, and I came in at a point where she lost most of her support, and will to live, , her most beloved family members passed away suddenly, and her, what she thought were close friends, turned out to be manipulating, narcissists, that dropped her when she needed the same things she would offer them, her whole world has been violently shook then, and multiple times in her life before, and she was never raised with good ways to cope and deal with trauma, she deals with constant, and I mean constant, night terrors, it doesn't matter how when where or what she uses to sleep, there will be a nightmare. She has no out or escape because she's trying to get on ssi, to have some sort of support as she integrates herself back into society, but it's been 3 years and the not being able to do anything that might negatively affect her chance has been slowly driving her into a corner, she's been on many anti depressants, and sleeping aids all to which have no visible affect on her, and has been to multiple hospitals, which unfortunately, also caused her some of the trauma she deals with today. She's such a gentle beautiful soul, and I can't take her breaking down when I have no clue how to help, I help as best I can, but there's times, when I can't do anything and nothing helps her, not even weed, I don't know what to do, and I was hoping someone with cptsd who've been lucky and strong enough to push through most of it, could help guide me on how to help someone with cptsd, that has drug resistant depression,consistent triggers with inconsistent coping methods, consistent night terrors, very little money, and typical sayings and phrases don't work because of who's said it to her in the past. She has serious suicidal ideations because even at the end of the day, she can't escape some of her trauma cause it stems from racism, and that's something you sadly can't escape in this world. Anything will help, I don't want to lose her. She's been talking about trying mushrooms, but at the rate she has night terrors, I'm scared she might have a bad trip. Any questions, I'll gladly answer to help.

I average around 160 fps usually, but when i see an enemy or when i peek, the fps suddenly drops exactly to 60 as if the VSYNC had turned on and it stabilizes after a second. This also only happens when i play just with my laptop screen, if i connect an external monitor this never happens. anyone help me fix this issue? i have no clue why it affects only when i play with my laptop screen.

An old friend of mine once told me never to go to Necro town. I asked him why but he just never gave me the answer. Looking far from my home town, Necro town looked abandoned and was never owned by anybody nearby. Whenever I look out into that town, I wonder about it. The unknown and its many mysteries.
My old friend seems to have lived in that place but he never did. It's as if he was making up a horror story about Necro town. But, I did what he told me to. Never go there. Ever.
I asked my parents about that place. They never knew anything about it except it's just a wasteland. Grandpa never knew about it either. Such a mystery as to why would my old friend prohibit me from entering but my dad said otherwise. "If you want to go there and explore the place, I guess you can. But you better be careful from strangers alright kid."
By the time I turned 14, the bully in my school keeps getting worse on me. I get slammed into a locker, get my head knocked out, and even beaten up. I really don't want to go back to school but how am I supposed to convince my parents that?
The reason I don't have any friends at school was mostly because they don't like me as a person. I expressed myself for who I am and yet I get mocked by them all the time. calling me many names like freak, loser, norm, or even Melvin the idiot. Was it because I'm different? I have no clue about them at all.
I tried to fight back but they just keep winning every time. So then, I run away from school in the middle of classes, lunch breaks, and activities but every time I do, a teacher always caught me down and send me to the principles office. I lied to them and said "Because I wanna get candy." Or "I forgot my books back home.". I don't want to tell them the truth because I knew how much big trouble I'm going to have if I do.
I tried escaping all over again and finally I made it one day. And whenever I escaped, I always go to my old friends house. We go into the woods to go fishing in the pond. I love seeing those shiny blue fishes in the waters because they're just so beautiful when I look at them in the afternoon.
My old friend's name is Brandon West. He's of course much older than me because he's about 64 years old and for some reason he got so much energy to keep himself moving. He always have his brown firm cane with him everywhere he goes. He tells me tales of ancient beings, heavens and hells, the Sturgeon, and the blue turbo.
I've asked about the blue turbo and all he said was. "He's a sad man." Sad man sounds like he's been through a lot.
The blue turbo was born in a world where flame people live. They all have special powers depending on their shape and colors of their bodies. Green flame, blue flame, red flame, etc. He grew up with lovely parents who have similar powers to his. His power is both his parents powers. In his childhood, he grew fond of his friends and family that he devoted his life to protect the good in life.
In his teenage years, he became an officer. Protecting the people who are in danger. It was starting to get dangerous for him, but that never means he won't give up.
In his late 20s, he became a well devoted guardian, fighting against the evil dark powers from beneath the world's surface. He loved everything that is good in life. He had a wife and son while being a guardian. Their relationship was strong and they did whatever it takes to enjoy life. But then one day, the world around them turned into a warfare. The evil dark powers are killing people whilst they fight back. He fought hard and won. But it was at a huge cost. He lost his wife and child right in front of his eyes. Lost what's left in the world. He fell to a deep depression, which he quit being a guardian and was never to be seen again.
Brandon always looked sad whenever he told me the blue turbo. It's as if that felt real and it did happen. But, it is compelling. I asked him about where did the blue turbo go. He said. "Don't know. But wherever he is, he'll still devote himself in life."
One day when I was 16, I escaped school again and this time it didn't go well. By the time I walked behind the basketball court, I was caught by the bully and his gang. "Well oh well. Looks like Melvin the idiot is trying to leave the school all by himself. You're really going to leave again just so that you'll get away from us? That ain't happening norm." They were going to beat me up badly, so I didn't waste anymore time as I ran away from them. I didn't know how fast I was at this point.
They kept following me as I ran on the sidewalk. I didn't want to look back because I knew very well that if I did, I'll slow down. The running footsteps behind me kept pacing towards me. I can hear the loud steps as if they're like the golem's foot. My breath is getting shallow the more I keep running and my legs began to grow numb and sore. But I never slowed down nor stop. I just kept running until I finally lost them.
"Get back here you freak!!"
"We're going to kill you loser!!"
Then, a road towards Necro Town appeared before me. The words from Brandon echoed inside my mind not to go in there. My heart beats in fear. The bully and his gang chasing behind me like I'm their food to eat. My legs are about to surrender to my exhaustion and I can feel every pain coming from my muscles.
I can hear the footsteps behind me as I think of any other options. There are no other ways to go except into Necro town. I don't want to be beaten up or killed. Then, every memory of myself being bullied by them flashes into my mind, making me very angry. I'm sick and tired of being their punching bag. It's time for me to fight back!
I stopped at my tracks and turned to face them. Face to face. They stood on their grounds before me. Laughing at me with mockery. I stood my grounds and prepared myself for the worst. "I'm tired of being your punching bag! It's time for me to stand up for myself! I'm not afraid of you!!" But I lied. I'm still scared of getting beaten up. All I want is for them to stop bullying me forever.
The bully rushes towards me and I was ready to punch him at any moment given. By the time he's in front of me, I missed my shot. The punishment for my failed attempt to punch him was getting knocked out by getting punched in the face. I fell to the ground, knocking my head against it. My body passed through the limits of entering Necro town. My head and shoulders lay on the Necro town grounds.
I was then slowly dragged into Necro town by the bully's gang. I can feel the painful sting on my back as I get dragged. Suddenly, before I went to sleep mode, I heard screams. The bully's scream fades far away and his gang gets slowly decreasing. My arms are dropped down. The hands that held me tight are loosened from my arms so fast. I can hear each of them screaming in fear as piece by piece they disappear. Then I blacked out.
I woke up to find myself in an empty dark room. While my vision was getting clear, I slowly stand back up. When I got back my conscious, I gagged from the awful stench that just came from inside this room. I looked around to see where's the door for my escape and there, I see the shining golden knob reflecting my sight. I ran and grab hold of it, then twist it to open the door. To my very eyes, I've witnessed the most insane horror I've ever had in my life.
The sources aren't just in the room I was in. It was also in the living room because there are 5 dead bodies hanging like pig meat. Their flesh cut and sliced so disgustingly brutal that I can see their organs and tissues beginning to slip out of the sockets. Blood and bones are spread around the floor, shining the cold light that shines through the curtains of the outside. When I look at the top of their corpses, there are eyes looking directly at me with fear. Then I realize that they're still alive.
They suddenly screamed everywhere with the pain they share. I blocked my ears with my palm as I felt the twist in my stomach getting worse. Tears rapidly escapes out of my eyes that I shut my eyes tight. I quickly ran out of there and arrived to a room that is full of random colors. The colors are wrong. They're all wrong in many different ways that I can't describe so well about it. The screams and the colors made me vomit all over the floor. I nearly fell to the ground but I kept myself back up in hopes of leaving this place. I want to go home. I want to see Brandon again. I wished I'd rather get beaten up in the basketball court than coming here to lead my bully and his crew to their unholy demise.
I spun around in a frenzy and saw the bright and weird door before me. I quickly opened it and I was met with a freezing atmosphere. The world turned into some sort of hell. There are large stone spikes all over Necro town, crushing through the houses. The sky all grey and the sun is smiling at me with an empty mouth. Its eyes glaring at me in those sockets. The Sockets are too big for the eye balls that I thought it'll fall to the ground but it didn't.
I don't see anybody else outside. There's only the deformed flesh like trees and broken homes. My heart begins to panic. The world is making me crazy and horrified at the same time that I froze in place.
Something was walking behind me. They felt wrong, all wrong like it's not human. I turned around to see nothing. Literally nothing. There's no room filled with colors and the screaming stopped. Far away from myself is the darkest room I've ever seen. All dark. No light. Nothing.
I closed the door behind me and checked the room that was hanging my bully and his colleagues but they're all gone and the wall is stained with blood. The writing gave me enough chills and fear that drives me mad. There is no god to save you, Hermit
I spun around in a frenzy as if someones looking at me. I can feel the eyes are at me and I don't know where it is until a stomp noise can be heard right in the room I woke up in. At first, there were loud footsteps, and now it's banging on the door like a maniac. I didn't wait for it to come out of course. So I ran away, outside in the hellish Necro town.
I'm running on the road now and something is coming for me. Thoughts popping inside my head about whatever is coming for me, it won't lose my tracks as it can smell my very soul. Until I was very far away from the house I was in, a loud scream booms from that house. The scream is like the thousand souls tormented in hell for all eternity. I can feel its gaze at me with its hellish intentions.
I didn't stop to look back. I just kept running until I get into my home. How far is this town? Because I've been running for much longer and the town shouldn't be so far. The footsteps are getting closer as my heart beats faster with every second of its footsteps getting closer.
My legs became so sore and numb, and my lungs became so shallow from the burning air. I suddenly coughed so much that I fell to the ground, hitting my elbow. I tried to crawl away but it was already too late as the thing behind me has already come to get me. I rolled on my back and looked forward to see a tall hideous figure.
It was a tall humanoid with coal like skin. Its skin tightens its bones and I can see its red blood veins pulse around its deflated muscles. Its legs are of a goat's legs, resembling the creature to be something demonic like the devil. The arms are so long that its length is from shoulder to feet. Snd its fingers are way too long that it's like a monstrous claw. Its head is not human, more like a hood connecting to its shoulders. It's not the long and impossible stretched jaw that made me scream. The eyes are because there's nothing in them. Nothing but darkness of Sheol.
It's reaching me with those hideous claws while screaming like a wild demonic animal ready to pounce on their prey. Is this really how I was going to die. To be brutally mauled by its claws and jaw. Will I share the same fate as the bully and his comrades? I don't want to know and I never want to live like this. I'm scared. I don't want to die.
By the time it reaches me, something bright hits it. It's like I'm looking at a fireball? It was big. Bigger than my torso. I looked upwards to see a bright blue figure approaching me. It's like I'm looking at someone from the afterlife because its whole body is in flames except for a recognizable coat, pants, and a cane.
"It's been so long since I've fought these creatures." It was a voice of an old man I recognize clearly. But this doesn't make any sense at all. It's so strange for this guy to sound like Brandon but his voice matches him.
The creature growled at him like a dog and I didn't waste anytime to get away from it. But the smoking smell in my lungs prohibit me to get away. It's like I was dying. But my eyes are alright.
The creature jumps over me, attacking the savior of my life. He shot another fire ball at it and that makes the creature soar back. The creature stands back up wildly before the stranger appeared before it as if he teleported in a blink of an eye. He wack his cane at its head which rips off from its neck. This stranger killed that creature like its nothing but when he turned around I can see fear on his face.
His face, I can see his eyes and mouth. There's also 2 triangular scar at the sides of his chin and they're not burning in flames. "Melvin. I can explain later but right now we have to leave." He said my name just like Brandon does. This is insane, I don't know if I was dreaming or it's real because everything is going mad.
"Let me help you up." He held me by the arm, pulling me up from the ground as I tried to take a breath. My legs are too tired for me to walk. But when he pulled me from the ground, I felt a great sensation of cleansing in my lungs and my legs and muscles began to relax. His hands doesn't hurt nor burn me as if it's a regular hand with no effect on me. I look at him and still he's in fear. Why would he be scared too?
"Brandon?" I said with fear and question in my voice. He looked at me with defeat as if he can't hide that away anymore. That's how I knew he's Brandon. "Well. Looks like you figured it out. But come on. Lets move now. You don't want the fish and chips cold." As he ran, I followed in pursuit. My legs felt reborn and my lungs have increased somehow. This felt so real. Everything does. I'm not dreaming at all. It's really happening. I kept asking Brandon with many questions from my head. "You're the blue turbo?"
"Yes. I am."
"Where were you after you quit being a -"
"Melvin. Now is not the time. We have to go. I'll answer them until we reach home ok."
We were suddenly blocked by 5 more of these creatures. They're just like the one I met before when I was being chased. I hid behind Brandon for safety as the creatures screams. I stepped far back from them, not wanting to turn into their puppet or something worse. I looked around to see more of them approaching us with hungry mouths. We're surrounded.
We stand with our backs facing each other. I'm horrified to see more of these demonic creatures all around us, ready to pounce at any moment. When I turn to see Brandon I thought he would be scared but he looks like he knew this would happen. "Melvin, when I say go, run away and don't look back. Keep running no matter what."
"What? But I don't want to leave you."
"I know. But this is the least I can do for you to live. You know my story Melvin. You know why."
My heart sank from the message. Leaving him here with all these creatures, I don't even know if he'll live on after this. But what can I do against these creatures. I'm just a human. I felt so much fear and guilt. After for what I've done to myself and Brandon. I wished I never had run away.
The monsters are creeping in. I can hear the chatters from their jaws and the footsteps around us. The creatures are ready to kill us because their backs are lifting up as a sign of predatory nature. Then suddenly when Brandon pierces his cane to the ground a loud boom vibrated around us as blue circular waves from the cane emerges out. The waves created a gravitational force that the creatures started floating in the air. Except we weren't floating. "GO!!"
And with that, I ran away as fast as I can, far away from this hell, far away from the only friend I have in my life. I can hear the sounds of vibration turned shut quiet and the screams of the demonic creatures so loud I ran even more faster. Tears are falling from my cheek with the guilt squeezing my heart with pain.
When I finally escaped and was on the clear road, I cried. I cried so much that I can feel everything around me started to fall. I've lost my best friend in Necro town and it's all my fault. If I hadn’t ran away, none of this would’ve happened. I've lost him. I was lying on the ground with the deepest depression in my soul hurting me. I can't bare to lose my friend. I just can't. What am I even supposed to do? I can't save him. I'm not strong enough. I'm just scared.
I'm now sitting at the front porch of Brandon's home. Waiting for him to come back for days. I haven't eaten anything nor come back home or school. I just stayed there waiting for him to come back. I'm alone and scared.
I kept being bothered by random people. They ask why I'm still outside. I never did answer until they called the hospital or the cops. I told them there's nothing to worry about but they don't believe me. If I tell them the truth, they'll die in Necro town and I don't want that for them. I don't believe the cops would understand.
From every hospital or cops I went through, I just kept coming back. Even my parents told me to stay home, I snuck out in the night waiting for my old friend. I did eat sometimes but not really much. I just went to my room until night time arrives.
Then, one day, at midnight, he's back. He's really back. I was so happy and glad he's alive just the way he is. But when I approached to hug him, he collapsed down to his knees. I was exploded with fear and worry. I helped him up and asked him what just happened. "I don't have much time Melvin. Lets go inside, we have a visitor I think you would like to meet. Meet Judith Wednesday." Behind him was a girl who's the same age as me. Her hair is black and she wore a grey hoodie with a logo I've never seen in my whole life. She was covered in dark red blood. The blood that is definitely from the creatures in Necro town.
We all went in and I gave Brandon a seat on the couch. Judith sat next to his left. And me, I sat next to his right. "Brandon, what happened?"
He looked at me with a smile on his face as he begins to change form in front of my eyes. His body changed like he was glowing and the flames form around him. His form now just like the form I saw while at Necro city. "Well. With the help of this young lady, we've defeated all the monsters. But, for me, it didn't go well for me. I'm slowly dying you see. I'm not going to have much time in this world."
"But you can't die. You're like spiritual aren't you?"
"Yes. But that doesn't mean death can't happen to me. I don't know where people like me go when they die. Nobody does."
I can feel my heart race as the tears slides on my face. I can't help myself but to cry before him.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have ran away. I shouldn't have."
"Melvin. It's not your fault. I saved you because I wanted you to live a life I protected. It's my choice. And I'm glad I did. And you didn’t do anything to get there on purpose. I would’ve done the same thing by running if I were you. Now. Lets go fishing together. One last time."
I wiped my tears away, trying my best not to ruin this very moment but I just couldn't help myself. He reached out his arms and I took it. I hugged him tightly whilst crying so deeply that I don't want to let go. We've stayed like this for couple of minutes until I finally let go with my soul finally relaxing but with small sadness. My guilt is free.
We grabbed our fishing equipment and went to the river in the forest. Judith follows us with a fishing rod in hand. I don't feel anything like talking to her but at least we both have company. To share the moment together I guess. But this is for Brandon and I hope she knew that too.
When we arrived at the jetty and started placing worm food at the hooks. Brandon was the first to throw his fishing hook. The fishing hook was glowing blue, just like his flames. The pond glowed so bright like a lantern. It was beautiful. The fishes shine so bright from the light. It's as if the world around us is gone and all that matters was this very moment before death.
Judith was struggling to put the worm food at the hook. I went to help her but she said. "It's ok. I got it." By the time her finger was nearly stabbed by the hook, the tip of her finger turned into metal. But that didn't bother me because at this moment, it felt like home. We just laughed. I don't know why we were laughing and it's like being a kid again.
We threw our fishing hooks in the pond, waiting for a fish to bite. The shiny blue fishes. They're more beautiful than I'd remembered. The stains of my tears fades away. "Melvin. You promise me that you'll stay strong?"
I heard Brandon said and I didn't believe it at first. How can I be strong for those that really need help or even myself? "I'm not strong."
"You are. You're strong the way you are. It's ok to be scared because that's a part of how we live. You're a good man Melvin. You just got to believe in yourself."
"How?"
With a smile on his face, he replied. "You find ways to make yourself better. Achieve your goals. And enjoy life." His words are so convincing that I begin to believe that. My eyes caught my attention to Judith with a warm and sad smile on her face. For some reason, that helped me believe too. I think I can be strong if that's what he said. "Ok. I'll be strong."
"Good. Remember Melvin, you're not alone." And with a sad and free smile on his face, he faded away before my very eyes. His body evaporated into nothing as the last bits of his flames disappear. The tears in my eyes slowly fell as I look into the the pond and the sun beginning to rise.
"I know how it feels." I heard Judith said.
"Really?'
"I've lost my mom and dad to cancer. My mom died when I turned 8. My dad died when I'm at the age of 16. I felt so depressed when my parents die right in front of me. I can't do anything except watch."
"I guess we both got the same moment then. I wish I could just get him back." She looked at me with sad eyes. This very moment makes us feel so calmly sad like its a funeral or somewhere quiet.
"I know. But there's nothing we can do. We just have to move forward with the memories."
It was nice to have someone with me who had similar stories like mine. She was right, we can't do anything about it. We can't get them back. It was hard for me, I know well. Like she said, I had to move forward and keep the memories I had with Brandon. I looked at the sky and prayed that wherever Brandon is now, he's at peace with his wife and son. In a good life he deserved.
It's been a few weeks. I stopped trying to escape school because my bully's are gone. But that didn't make me feel better at all nor felt good. Their parents looked everywhere for them, even the cops but they're not found. Some of the cops went into Necro town and was never heard of again. I wished I could warn them but they don't believe me when I did.
Judith came to visit me every now and then whenever I left school. We exchange stories of our past lives and other stories shared by others. We became close as friends as we kept hanging out with each other. I'm very glad and happy to have a new friend. She's not like any other teenager I've ever met. She's really good with cutting wood. She even shot an arrow directly at the fish in the river.
She's really cool but also depressing. She doesn't have any other friends and doesn't even go to school. Her mom died first, which is the reason she stopped going to school. So that she'll spend more time with her dad just like with her mom. She didn't want any friends. She only wanted her mom and dad and they're enough for her. Until she lost them. They were everything to her. But as time goes, she moved on and came here.
I knew how she fought the creatures with Brandon. At first I thought she was lost like me too but she's much stronger than I'd think. She told me she got a robot spirit within her spirit. A fusion. She can form into the form of her spiritual companion. Her name was Athena and in every single dream she kept coming over in her dreams, babbling random stuff. She's inside of her head, which means she's the everyday annoying voice in her mind that she cannot get away from. I felt bad for her at first but she shrugged it off, saying. "But hey, we got along with each other. Even that I don't like her at first, she's a person too."
One day, we went to the woods at night with our flash lights. It was horrifying for me because we could get lost so easily here. Sweat poured down on my forehead as we kept walking into the woods. Until suddenly, a bright blue light in front of us glows in the night. When we approached the light, it was the pond.
The pond was glowing the same light as Brandon's. This never happened ever in every night or day. Unless he did something or he somehow resides there. But I don't feel like he's there. But I can feel something else.
We walked to the jetty until we stopped near the edge. The pond is as beautiful as I remember with the blue shiny fishes swimming around it. I wonder what happens if I put my hand in the pond. Will I feel something warm or something else. Maybe my arm will glow. I don't know. But then something grew within my soul. A connection. As if the pond wants me to put my hand in. It felt amusing.
So I did it without hesitation. It felt warm as I swim my right hand in the water. The water suddenly jumped on my arm. I thought I was going to panic but I didn't flinch. Instead I let it do what it does. Judith tried to pull me away but I told her not to. She then watched as the glow of the pond gathered around the water that is holding my arm. I felt a great sensation of warmth and heat. I felt a stinging pain all over my arm but it quickly turned into a cold feeling.
All of the glow of the blue flame from the pond is now on my arm, glowing as small flames flew up from my arm, just like Brandon's head of flames. As the glow fades away, I can see clearly that my arm is stained with bright blue.
The pond is now empty of normal water and the fish swims peacefully. We were both shocked as to what happened. Did the glow of Brandon's flames just fused with my arm? I can definitely feel the power from my arm coursing with my soul. "How did it feel?"
"It felt like, painful at first but went normal. I don't know." A realization hit me that I forgot where my flashlight was. I looked to find nothing. Judith helped me out by lighting around the place but it wasn't enough. Suddenly, I felt something in my arm. I lift my hand up and gripped tight, making a bold fist. When I opened my hand, a bright blue flame appeared before me. A bright orb of blue flame glowing our surroundings.
It's as if I knew what I was doing. It's like my soul is connected to this power. When I looked at Judith, her face was a surprised look. I'm surprised as well. So I think I have Brandons powers now. I think I know the reason the glow came tonight. Brandon gave me his powers because what's the point in keeping them when he's living in a peaceful life. I understand now.
I looked around and found my flashlight dropped in the pond. I was frightened that it could've electrocuted the fishes but it didn't. I wasn't paying any attention to it. Accidentally dropping my flashlight. But it looked to be drained off somehow. When I was grabbing in for it, the pond created a vortex beneath the touch of my right palm.
It was shockingly beautiful to watch. The vortex flows so smoothly. I then put my foot on the ground and the pond made space for me to be able to move around. The fish swims all around the pond as I stepped on the ground of the pond beneath me. It was dry. All dry. I grabbed my flashlight and looked up to the jetty. To Judith. With a smile on her face, she said. "This is so cool."
I smiled back as the pond begins to glow and my right hand glows with blue the blue flames. I stand on the ground of the pond my old friend and I loved going to. I have the gift from Brandon and now, I think I'll use this power for good.
I looked up into the night sky, watching the stars shine above whilst a shooting star appeared with them.
I'll be strong Brandon. I'll overcome every obstacle I come across and overcome the suffering. I'll be strong for who I am. And no one is going to stand in my way of doing that.

So, me 20(M) and she 20(F) had a relationship of 1.5 yrs and suddenly she went abroad. She used to behave like a child and wear traditional clothing and suddenly while in abroad she started wearing very obscene clothes and her behaviour changed while dealing with me. She was now more practical, wanted me to wait for her for 5 yrs and said she can't tell her parents but wanted me to do all her word ( assignments and other things). She used to talk with her friends while having a call with me. She told me how many guys like her there and how they propose her look at her and admire her ( it was the same case with me but I never told her because I thought it's just disrespectful ). She said I can't commit that I will marry you ( new thing in our relationship ) but we can be together until you or me get married ( indirectly ). I was raged to hear that. I told her I am not a worker that you are trying to say that I should be only waiting for you while you mentally torture me and I said we should no longer be together as our thinking is not same now. She said I may do something that will hurt myself ( her ). I anticipated it to be a suicide threat. I was afraid that she might do something so I stopped that talk for 1 year it went, I did her work she mentally tortured me. My parents knew about our relationship but her's were not having a single clue of it. Now, just one day ago I told her it is over.. she said what did I do ?. I explained her everything and she said you are a fake lover, selfish, called me a lowly being... Said fuck you to me and it's what happened.... I broke up with her so, what is your guy's opinion did I took a wrong decesion or did something wrong to her ?

When u first get nox best thing to do is to isolate for a few months until u heal because if u don't there's a huge chance ull keep worsening and never heal and reach an unbearable level. because literally everything can be making u worsen....like anything and sometimes u don't realise it because in the moment the pain is just 0.5 out of 10 but the problem is the delayed pain. The pain that in the moment seems negligible can cause u to worsen more and more cumulatively....and then a month later ull wake up and realise the 0.5 has become 1.5..and suddenly one day ull wake up and it has become 5 or 6..and u can't even tolerate ur own voice
The things that are tricky is YOUR OWN voice can be hurting u. Lower your voice when talking ...be sure to do that. Digital audio is the devil if u have nox just watch everything on mute until u heal.
And also don't let other people push u into social events...sometimes even visiting ur friends or family theyll be talking loud or watching tv and it WILL hurt u.. Just don't let anyone push u to do things not ur family not friends..don't be ashamed to advocate for ur self. Because if u let them push u and u get worse they'll all just neglect u cause nothing can be done and there's no treatment
During onset the pain was a lot more tolerable. Now I have it in silence cause I can't even tolerate my OWN breathing. I'm homebound and it could have been avoided. Too late now
Also try to eat healthy while u have nox because u wouldn't want to gain weight it will make everything worse and eating too many sweets or shit foods is not good at all and can cause u to get fucked really easy to be unhealthy when u have nox because u can be isolated for a while or feeling depressed don't fall into that trap or else ull get other issues which will combine and make ur t and nox worse

I just got a Schecter banshee mach 7 left handed evertune. first when i got the guitar, all the strings were about half an inch off the fretboard, extremely high and I have no clue why it would be set like that for a guitar like this. so before playing it I went to try and do general setup work, I tuned the instrument to standard, and then began lowering the saddles, and jesus christ i was turning the evertune key probably 10 times before getting anywhere close to a normal action reading on my gauge, i got some of the the low strings down to .06(not the low B), and wanted the high strings a little bit above .05, as that's where it was set on my other schecter 7 string with the same scale length but a standard hardtail bridge. While lowering the very high E string, the action screw suddenly clicked, and it felt like the hexkey could just barely grasp onto the screw, then when I tried to raise the action back up to reverse, it got very, very, stiff, pretty much impossible to turn, so then seeing that, i went back down a little, and it gets hard to turn again, so its pretty much stripped I believe, stuck at the very bottom of the screw hole and cannot come back up no matter what i do it seems. i released all tension from the string, and the screw is still stuck, then i went to tune the string back up, and i dont even believe the saddle reached stage 2, before breaking completely, AND the string started buzzing on the high frets, despite same radius, scale, fret size, as my other schecter damien 7. This is very irritating as this guitar was highly anticipated for me and very expensive, I did a lot of research on evertunes and i understand how the system works, but there are ZERO, results on the internet for how low evertune action can go, there are no statements on the evertune manual saying that this could happen while using the action screw, and there are zero people on the internet who have apparently had this issue. is this a dead saddle? should i reset the saddle? if the evertune physically cannot go low enough to normal actions why is this bridge so popular.

Link to Part 1
Link to Part 2
Link to Part 3
Link to Part 4
Link to Part 5
Link to Part 6
Link to Part 7
Link to Part 8
Link to Part 9
Link to Part 10
Link to Part 11
Link to Part 12
Link to Part 13
Link to Part 14
Link to Part 15
Link to Part 16
Link to Part 17
Link to Part 18
Link to Part 19
Link to Part 20
Link to Part 21
Link to Part 22
Link to Part 23
Note: This story is meant to be read after completing DDLC Plus. All credit for the original DDLC and DDLC Plus characters and world goes to their creator. Some concepts like the Universal Constructor are also borrowed from other series (most notably the original Deus Ex), though its use in this story is my own idea. My original characters in this story will deliberately not be named and their descriptions will be kept vague, so anyone reading this who wants to see themselves in one of the original characters can more easily do so. I'd welcome any feedback and will post more parts as I write them. I hope you enjoy the story. This chapter took a bit longer due to the challenges inherent in writing poetry and trying to write something that I thought sounded like the various characters. As with previous installations, here is a custom dialogue to go with it: The Poetry Festival
Credit for Sayuri's character design goes to user Hoeruko who made the design a number of years ago and originally posted Sayuri in this thread: The next doki fusion, Sayuri, is here.
Here is Part 24 of Digital Reality. The Literature Club finally gets to put on the festival. Will their words have an impact on any of the MES engineers? Will they get Monika back?
Part 24: Digital Poetry
The Literature Club members all stood together in the club room and waved a greeting to the group in the MES conference room.
“Hi everyone!” Sayori began, “On behalf of the Literature Club, thank you for joining us today. I’m Sayori, and this is Yuri, MC, Natsuki, and our newest member, Sayuri. Though our club president Monika isn’t here right now, we’ve all written poems to share with you today.”
“Don’t forget the cupcakes,” Natsuki added, “I don’t usually share it, but you should have my recipe for the best cupcakes ever in the packets you have. I made some for us to share here, but since we don’t have a way to send them to the real world, I figured sharing the recipe was the next best thing!”
The MES engineers flipped through the packets on the table in front of them.
“A cupcake recipe?” asked Rea Vorte with surprise, “You can’t just make cupcakes appear in the simulation?”
“No,” Natsuki replied, “Knowing what we now know about our world I know why you would think that, but I’ve always made my cupcakes with a recipe and ingredients.”
“Interesting,” Ro Teether said, “I would not have expected the simulation to go into that level of detail.”
“I think the original script contained an event in which the characters can bake cupcakes, so that may be where it comes from,” replied Ive Laster.
Paula Miner sat silently, looking intently at the recipe page. After a few moments she looked up.
“I’m by no means an expert baker, but reading through this recipe it does look like it would work,” Miner said, glancing from Laster to Natsuki, “Your secret ingredient is rather interesting, too.”
Natsuki smiled, “That’s how I’ve always made them.”
“By the way, since we’re on a two-way connection, can they see us?” Miner asked.
“Sort of,” the FXI President replied, “They’ve told me when I’ve been connected to the system that I appear as a fuzzy silhouette to them.”
“Yeah, we can’t see you exactly, but we know you’re there,” Sayori confirmed.
Miner nodded slowly. “Very well. We’ll need to chat about this cupcake recipe more later. Please continue.”
“Okay!” Sayori said, “We’ve each written a poem that we’re going to share with you today. There’s no particular theme that connects them all, but with everything that we’ve learned in the past week we thought that writing was a good outlet for our thoughts and emotions.”
“MC has agreed to start today’s event by sharing his haiku, entitled ‘Poem About Poetry’,” Sayori continued.
MC stepped to the front of the group. He looked down at his piece of paper and then back up at the group as he began to speak.
“I’m far from as good of a writer as some of the other members you’ll hear from today, but that just means that the quality can go up from here,” MC said in a self-deferential tone, “This is a poem I wrote about the creative process of writing poetry.”
He winked at Sayori as he began to read.
“What is poetry?
Far more meaningful than just
Simply random words”
Natsuki grinned. “Wow, you didn’t take my advice about not just throwing random words on a page, you literally wrote a poem about it!”
“Haiku is an interesting choice,” Teether said, “It shows an understanding of syllables and structure, and I find it very ‘meta’ that you would choose to create a poem about poetry.”
MC nodded, “My past poetry has been accused of being nothing more than twenty random words on a page, so I’m poking fun at myself a bit.”
“Well done, MC,” Sayori said, “That was a fun poem! Next up will be Yuri, with her poem called ‘The City.’”
Yuri stepped to the front of the group. She glanced to the side, looking slightly nervous. After a few moments, she seemed to gather her thoughts and looked toward the group. “My poem is not as straightforward as MC’s haiku, so I would prefer not to share the meaning until after you have had the opportunity to consider it for yourselves.”
She started to read, her voice becoming stronger and more confident with each word.
“A city stood in the distance.
Shining lights, soaring towers.
A beautiful and magnificent place.
A place of honor and achievement
When viewed from afar with detachment.
Though upon arrival
The city unveils its truth.
There is no honor here.
Glowing lights
Are cold and artificial.
I thought I knew this place
But it treats me as a stranger.”
Yuri looked around the club room after she had finished speaking. An enigmatic smile of satisfaction crossed her face.
Sayori spoke up first. “Yuri, it seems like your poem could be about changes in perspective over time. Like going back to visit a neighborhood you’ve moved away from. You know things aren’t as they once were, but you still kind of feel lonely when you find that things have changed.”
Yuri nodded. “That’s part of it. We’ve all experienced a significant change recently as we’ve understood our world, and I struggled to find a way to describe what I was feeling. Places that had been familiar to me suddenly appeared different with the knowledge that this is a simulation.”
“So the AIs can not only write poetry but use metaphors and explain their meaning,” Teether observed, “Fascinating. Ive, you never told me that the entities in VM1 were capable of creativity like this.”
Laster shrugged, “Other than Monika, they were tied to the script until recently. Based on Monika’s behavior, we knew that at least she was capable of taking initiative and making changes to the world, but she was the only entity able to do that. The script included poetry, but we’ve never tasked the entities with creating original content.”
“This isn’t because of anything that the FXI team did, right?” Teether asked, “I know you mentioned that they were responsible for all of the entities gaining elevated access permissions. They didn’t extend the script or anything?”
“Yes and no,” the FXI CTO replied, “We restored files to the VM and added the ‘monitor kernel access’ permission to all of the characters, but we didn’t do any scripting. This is all them.”
Miner glanced between the FXI President and the FXI CTO with suspicion but said nothing.
Sayori took the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Thanks, Yuri. Natsuki will be next with her poem, ‘My Friends.’”
“Okay, time for my poem!” Natsuki said, “Mine is a bit more upbeat than Yuri’s.”
“Some come from near
Some from afar
Each shines bright like a star
They’re my friends
That’s who they are
Old or new
Many or few
Friends are important
To me and you”
Natsuki smiled at the group, “You all inspired this poem. And by you all I mean both you all here in the club and our new FXI friends. You’ve made the literature club a place that I’ve enjoyed and a place of friendship.”
“I liked your poem, Natsuki,” Sayori said, “I’m glad you feel that way about your friends.”
A look somewhere between exhaustion and frustration came across Paula Miner’s face. “This is all well and good, but are we gathering any useful data from listening to an AI read a cute little poem like this?”
Natsuki glared at Miner and opened her mouth to offer what was certain to be a sarcastic retort, but Sayori pre-empted her.
“Are you not enjoying our poetry?” Sayori asked, sounding disappointed.
“The poetry is fine. I’ll even say it’s impressive for AI-generated content,” Miner replied, “But though your poems are interesting, we’re here to do a job, not study literature. And we need to gather useful data to justify our own jobs and this project’s existence. So tell me, Ive, are we getting useful data from this?”
Laster tapped a few keys on his laptop. “We’re recording this session and logging all data. It looks like there may be some interesting patterns of activity, but we won’t be able to say for sure until we analyze what we’ve got.”
“I’d imagine that you’re likely getting a lot of useful data,” the FXI President chimed in, “You’re not only gathering the data logs from VM1, but you can pair them with the recordings to understand what happens in the system when the AIs are allowed to interact and create on their own. I don’t know what your project goals are, of course, but in terms of AI research I’d think that there’s something you can get out of this.”
“There also may be something useful for our efforts to stabilize our connection to VM2,” Teether added, “If we can understand how entities operate when freed from a script in VM1, it may give us some clues as to how we might be able to interact with VM2.”
Miner considered for a moment and then nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. Ive, let’s just make sure we’re logging everything for future analysis.”
As the conversation once again died down, Sayori continued. “I’ll go next. My poem is called ‘A New Day’ and it’s about my journey with some personal challenges.”
She took a deep breath and began to recite her poem.
“Storms tried to block out the sun
The world was dark and gray.
It’s so hard to have any fun
When the clouds won’t go away.
But you never stopped trying
To shine through the darkness
Even when I was crying
You showed me kindness
It’s a new day now
Though the clouds aren’t gone
The sun shines somehow
I find the strength to carry on”
Sayori blinked away misty eyes as she finished reading. The other club members surrounded her in a group hug as she stepped back from the front of the room.
“That was a wonderful poem, Sayori,” MC said, “You share your feelings so well.”
“I liked that poem quite a bit,” Laster chimed in, “It’s got a great message of perseverance and hope even in challenging times.”
Sayori nodded. “I’ve been through a lot, but things are getting better now. My friends have been a huge source of support through all of this.”
“I really like your writing, Sayori,” Sayuri added, “Your poem is easy to read but the more you think about it, the more you feel the emotions you’re trying to convey.”
“Thanks, everyone. I appreciate your kind words,” Sayori replied, “And now for the finale of our festival I’d like to introduce our newest member, Sayuri, and her poem ‘What Remains.’”
Sayuri stepped to the front of the group. “I’ve been reading through classic poetry recently. Poems like Shelley’s ‘Ozymandias’ inspired me to write this one about what will stand the test of time in a time when so much is digital.”
Sayuri paused, looking around the room, before closing her eyes and reciting her poem from memory.
“Ancient monuments that still stand
Classic portraits and landscapes grand
Such works are the legacies of the past
Physical objects that will last
But what will tell of this new age?
When are stories are gigabytes, not a printed page
A digital reality, its purpose completed
Leaves little trace if it’s deleted
If all that remains is a dusty drive
Will the future know we were alive?”
Sayuri opened her eyes as she finished. Both the club room and the MES conference room were silent as both groups took in her words.
“Wow, Sayuri,” Yuri said, breaking the silence, “That was incredible. I really loved the images you created with your words.”
The FXI President glanced around the conference room. Paula Miner’s expression had softened, and she appeared to be lost in thought. Ro Teether continued to look excited and intrigued by his observations of the Literature Club. The FXI CTO wore a satisfied smile. Ive Laster looked relaxed and relieved. And Rea Vorte was looking down at the conference table and shaking her head. Her expression was difficult to read.
Miner looked up at the screen showing the Literature Club. “I never thought an AI would generate content that would make me feel anything. But I have to say this has given me some things to think about. Ive, can you please confirm that we’ve logged all the data from this session?”
Laster nodded. “Yes, we’ve got everything. If this is the last big data gathering session we have before decommissioning VM1, I’d say it’s a pretty good one to go out on.”
“If this is truly AI-generated content, this seems like a new level of sophistication,” Teether mused, “It’s one thing to be able to generate text, but to be able to convey this kind of emotion and explain the meaning of metaphors is not a capability I’ve ever seen in AI.”
“It’s a little scary,” Rea Vorte added, “I don’t know that I like the idea of AI this sophisticated. Especially after what we saw Monika-”
“Let’s refrain from speculation,” Miner said, cutting Vorte off, “We can talk more about system capabilities later.”
“You think we’re scary?” Sayori said, looking sad, “We just wanted to share our writing with you. We just wanted to show that we’re not that different from you. We have feelings, emotions, and desires just like you do.”
“You’ve got my vote, for whatever it’s worth,” the FXI CTO said with a smile, “I’m not big into poetry, and I certainly had my concerns about sophisticated AI when I first encountered all of you. But the more I’ve interacted with and observed you the more I see how similar you are to us.”
Miner glanced sideways at the FXI CTO but said nothing.
“Can we please have Monika back now?” Natsuki asked.
Laster turned to Vorte, “Rea, please move Monika’s file back to VM1 by COB today. Let’s discuss how we can best move the entire simulation after we’re done here.”
“Thanks, Ive!” Natsuki said with a smile, “Sayori did a great job leading the club in Monika’s absence, but it will be good to have her back.”
Vorte looked up at Laster. Frustration was evident on her face. “Like I said before, let’s discuss that offline after we’re done here.”
Laster shrugged. “Fine. I’m not blaming you if there’s a problem by the way. If there’s an issue, we’ll work on it together.”
“Great job, everyone,” the FXI President said to the Literature Club, “We’re going to log off from VM1 now, but I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”
The Literature Club members waved to the group in the MES conference room as the club room faded from the projection screen to be replaced with Laster’s desktop.
“I think we have a lot to discuss, and it’s going to take some time to unpack the implications of everything that we just saw,” Miner said, “I was skeptical of the value of this presentation at the start of this meeting, but I’m hopeful that we have gathered new and useful data from this session. Let’s all take a break for a bit and reconvene at six, which gives us an hour break. I want to discuss this further. Ro, can you please order in some dinner for the group? I think we’re going to have a long night.”

This happens once in a while, where I just feel like crying, have no mood to do anything at all. And well sad.
I tried going to a therapist, but they'd often just suggest breathing techniques or distraction techniques. They don't work for me.
I'm just upset today, because it's been a few months since I last felt like this. Last year I'd feel sad every single day. I'd get panic attacks that lasts for hours each day. I think they are panic attacks at least. It would just be hours of my mind racing, feeling nauseaus, feel like crying, cold in my stomach, lump in my throat, brain feeling light headed and extremely extremely scared. Of what? I have no fkn clue. Just extreme intense fear. It paralyses me sometimes.
I'd survive by clearing my mind of thoughts, the fear and all the other stupid physical symptoms are still there. But at least I don't talk shit to myself.
I'd go try counselling once in a while, but I'd never find the energy to go more than a few times. I just feel like it was a waste of time I guess, they'd just refer me to more breathing techniques and goal setting templates. And say, it's just normal anxiety.
My parents are dismissive, they'd say anxiety would go away once you are busy/ just exercise/sleep more. I... really dont thibk it works that way because I have been having these issues since 10 years ago when I just started secondary school when I was very active(not to this extent of course, it worsened and peaked in college and uni).
My friends? They don't have anxiety. They dont understand it. Even those of my friends who have anxiety/panic attacks dont have it for so long, only once in a blue moon.
After a while, I decided it was most likely hormonal as I'd feel better if I wait it out a few days. It's magical that something that feel like it'd kill me (i.e some small issue at work) magically looks small the next day, and can be solved in 20 min.

hey guys, how is it going? well since yesterday i’m having a problem with logic’s quantize parameters, o always used the quantize in 1/16 and the swing fader as much as i needed to, but suddenly booth my swing and quantize stopped working as usual and start to erase some midi notes as a move de swing fader, o also tried to quantize and swing on the control center on the left corner above the audio/midi fx center and worked the same way, o also tried using 1/16 A, B, C, etc and didn’t work as well
tbf i’m fucked bc i tried to contact logic’s support 3 times and they all hang the phone on me, also, o don’t have a clue about how reddit work, i’m just desperate to solve my problem so i can finally go back to make music i’m peace
since now tks a lot to everyone who try tô help me

hey guys, how is it going? well since yesterday i’m having a problem with logic’s quantize parameters, o always used the quantize in 1/16 and the swing fader as much as i needed to, but suddenly booth my swing and quantize stopped working as usual and start to erase some midi notes as a move de swing fader, o also tried to quantize and swing on the control center on the left corner above the audio/midi fx center and worked the same way, o also tried using 1/16 A, B, C, etc and didn’t work as well
tbf i’m fucked bc i tried to contact logic’s support 3 times and they all hang the phone on me, also, o don’t have a clue about how reddit work, i’m just desperate to solve my problem so i can finally go back to make music i’m peace
since now tks a lot to everyone who try tô help me

hey guys, how is it going? well since yesterday i’m having a problem with logic’s quantize parameters, o always used the quantize in 1/16 and the swing fader as much as i needed to, but suddenly booth my swing and quantize stopped working as usual and start to erase some midi notes as a move de swing fader, o also tried to quantize and swing on the control center on the left corner above the audio/midi fx center and worked the same way, o also tried using 1/16 A, B, C, etc and didn’t work as well
tbf i’m fucked bc i tried to contact logic’s support 3 times and they all hang the phone on me, also, o don’t have a clue about how reddit work, i’m just desperate to solve my problem so i can finally go back to make music i’m peace
since now tks a lot to everyone who try tô help me

Ok, well, my theory, based on info that Amazon basically probably leaked due to AI or something, is that pit girl is probably Becky.
Before you freak out, “Becky”, the bully who we see calling Misty, as the plane is crashing, instead of seeing physically why the plane is actually crashing, is revealed not on IMDB, most likely purposefully, but is listed on Amazon, as Alexis Barajas, who we know, plays Mari. Mari is probably her last name, but years ago, before she played sports, back in 92, she was probably called Becky, and she is the one who bullied Misty. Maybe the girls laughing on the call are also on the team, maybe one was Nat.
It is my theory that Mari has been hiding food too, just like the berries, for a while out there, and some of those berries might be poisonous, so she is flipping out hearing the dripping and hallucinating, or probably because Misty is slowly poisoning her and Coach, because Becky Mari knows her intellect best, and is also psycho too. BM also made up the whole Lottie savior thing, just to send Lottie to die out there in the cold, because BM hates her, because she was bullied by Lottie, like the cousin comment hinted at.
Becky Mari is hiding more berry wine under the cabin, where Nat had found booze before, that she shared with coach. They will still find a lot of secrets, under the cabin, I believe. BM has also rigged the cards already, so Misty ALWAYS draws the card to have to dump the toilet. BM is hoping that Misty and Lottie will both be eaten by wolves while out there, which means more to eat for Becky Mari. The cards are rigged and always have been, first by BM then by Misty, to beat her at her own game, she came up with the hunt idea.
Now, I know suddenly someone will pretend they noticed this all of a sudden in the other sub, or make a YouTube pretending they discovered it first, so that is why I’m posting it now. I know I’m the first to notice this, and that the writers are probably going to have Amazon remove that voice over credit soon, because they have left that credit info out of the IMDb info, on purpose. I checked when that episode first aired. I’ve tried repeatedly to find out who Becky was, stupid Amazon finally spilled the secrets, because of AI.
Also, the porn mag Travis took with him is really important to the plot. This hasn’t been noticed before either, I really don’t think, but I think it’s a key that might save Coach, saved Javi for a while, and maybe all the ones left in the end.
I thought originally, that the pilot was a midnight rider, and that there are hidden tunnels out there with drugs and money in them, that possibly helped Javi survive. Now, I believe it’s possibly a military spy plane, not sure which military, but most likely CIA, and that the cards probably have a hidden map contained within them, like spies, which correlates to the symbol, and the date of the magazines probably shows what decade at least that the pilot was last there, but also they are a key to the symbol/ underground cave system.
Natalie might figure out from the magazine Travis took, hidden info that was in the porno mag, that leads them back home. I think the cards hold the key to the symbol, and the porn has a clue that unlocks it. Yes, I just said that the porn will probably save their lives.
Ben is gay, so he would not have looked at the porn. Javi might have, even though he wasn’t supposed to. Plus he wanted more paper to draw on. Travis has Nat, and might not be interested in it, but could have saved at least one mag from the fire, just in case, or Javi took one with him, that they discover later. Javi may have found the clues to the caves in the magazine, and that is why he says “she” led him there.
There is probably not just a cave underground, but also tunnels that lead to across the border. It might just contain a hidden weapons arsenal. There is already at least one known US arsenal in the US Rocky Mountains. Also, most people don’t realize that the US military has been on an expedition since colonial times, that has just never ended. The US Army never ended their original expedition, because they finance spy ops and things they don’t ever tell their own citizens about, so they can make sure no planes are supposed to fly over that area, and it is abandoned, but still a secret location.
IDK exactly what is hidden out there, but the “hunter” was probably a spy and a soldier, and armed to the teeth for a reason. There are probably explosives and grenades out there he set, probably not alone, but they just haven’t stepped on them yet. The pit was probably made by him and others. They will probably discover more bodies he buried out there. It seems like a military op or cartel drug site, because of the amount of arsenal, and the lack of food out there. Soldiers would be trained to grow and forage for food, and would expect at least their superior officers or bosses to eventually come for them, even spy pilots. Maybe they got left behind in wartime, or just didn’t want to go back so they killed the others. We will see.
Now, back to my theory that Misty caused the crash and killed Nat on purpose, but sent Lisa out there as a cover. It makes a whole lot more sense now that we know Becky Mari the bully is on the team and the plane too. That’s not the end of it though. To everyone who said the folder belonged to the corpse/crypt keeper they found out there, think again.
The folder looked so familiar to me I went back and really looked at it, and it has lasers all over it, so I googled laser trapper keeper. The front of the folder is taken directly from a trapper keeper commercial from the 90’s. Other stickers are on it, but it’s meant to be Misty’s trapper keeper, and it’s filled with folders inside about medicinal herbs and poison sections, and the shrooms she tried to kill them all with, or just Ben, but they ended up being the trippy kind instead. Eventually she wants to kill them all still.
Also, that damn Wilson Phillips song is playing when she gets the phone call from Becky Mari, and when she beats the black box, and when she takes Nat to see Travis, after she broke Nats car. I think she was planning on blaming Travis death on Nat just in case, and the reason she saved her from doing the Coke was because it didn’t fit in with how she wanted to kill Nat.
I’m sure everything or some of what I just said, will be posted very soon by someone else in the other sub that is power tripping like Misty, or posted as someone else’s theory on YouTube, but I’m only posting it first here. I wasn’t going to say anything because it’s a huge mistake from Amazon I think, and I realize they will probably delete that info because I already hinted that one of them is going by their last name. I deleted that, but maybe the writers saw it already or something, and they will make Amazon remove it soon.
TLDR: breaking news, exclusive to this sub only! Becky is Mari! Nudie mags can save lives? Hunter is a soldier, who rigged the land and maybe the caves too? Mari, then Misty rigged the cards.

I’ve had my ps5 since early 2020. One of the first games I got for it was Spider-Man: Miles Morales. I’ve been replaying it, and all of a sudden, the ps5 doesn’t seem to recognize the disc. It keeps giving me the standard “insert the disc” message even after I take it out, clean it for good measure, and put it back in.
What I think might be complicating things is the fact that my Spider-Man disc is for the ps4, and I’m trying to access the upgraded ps5 version that has always worked on the disc. Idk why it randomly decided that’s an issue, but it hasn’t been for the 3+ years I’ve owned the ps5. Any tips on what to do? I’ve restarted, powered down, everything— I have no clue what the problem is or how to fix it.

"Everyone's eyes are missing from their faces."
“What do you mean by that?” I asked her calmly, making note of her body language. Each time my patient spoke, she avoided eye contact entirely. She’d dart her eyes around, as if scared to land on one thing for too long. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her left knee bounced rhythmically.
“There’s nothing there,” She murmured, mind in a different place. “Where the eyes should be.”
“Can you describe it more in length?” I asked.
She paused before speaking again. “They still have noses. And mouths. And eyebrows, I guess. But there’s no eyes. It’s just…smooth.”
“I see,” I wrote that down. “How long have you been seeing this?” She shrugged, fidgety as ever.
“Does it frighten you?”
“Sometimes,” She replied, now looking to the floor.
“Is that why you don’t want to look at me?” I began. She tensed her shoulders, so I added, “You don’t have to. I’m just curious.”
“I don’t know,” She spoke quietly.
“It’s alright, I won’t make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.” I tapped the notepad lightly with my pen, coming up with some other questions. I wondered to myself if this was a side-effect of an underlying condition, manifesting into her reality.
“How about pictures? Or mirrors? Do people still look funny there?”
“It’s not funny.” She said bluntly, then immediately shrunk back into herself, as if expecting discipline.
“I’m sorry, Brynn.” I conceded. “I only mean, do they still not have eyes when you’re not looking directly at them?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “But it’s worse.”
“Do you mind telling me how so?” I tried to be as inoffensive as I could with my words and tone.
The more I knew, the better understanding I had of what she was experiencing. But I also knew not to probe too much, or I lose the chance of hearing more. Some patients require lots of patience and security, and I had no problem obliging. So far Brynn had shared with me far more than she has in our previous sessions, and I wanted to see more into her world. Get an idea as to why she had done what she did, leading to her school expulsion.
“Their entire face is…wrong.” Brynn began to explain, struggling with which words to choose. “They’re warped and stretched and confusing to look at. The longer I stare, the more it changes into something worse. Until I can’t look anymore and have to shield my eyes.”
“That sounds quite unpleasant,” I frowned. “You said this is only in pictures and mirrors?”
“Yes. For now.” She breathed with a shudder.
“For now?”
“Sometimes, I see the faces in the real world too. In the sides of my vision. And if I look at it it goes away, but I don’t think that will last for long.”
I sighed. I felt deeply sympathetic for her. She seemed to be battling against demons created by her mind, fueled by anxiety and stress. I tried to piece together what she told me with what I knew, and the main reason the state had hired me to help her in the first place.
Even her own parents cowered before her, relieved as soon as she stepped out of their car in my driveway. It sickened me they’d deny her love and support in these trying times, but I was only seeing one perspective. Brynn has yet to deliberate any issues with her family.
“Were you experiencing this when you attacked that girl in April?” I said slowly, hoping to reintegrate the incident in her mind as unobtrusively as possible. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I underst-“
“That wasn’t a girl!” Brynn pleaded, finally looking towards me. She paused for a fraction of a second before snapping her head away, terrified. “It was one of them disguised as her, I swear! I would never hurt someone like that unless I had to!”
“Ok.” I bit my lip, glancing at my files. “So you believe that you were in danger?”
“She was stronger than the others.” She didn’t answer my question, but I chose to momentarily lean in to that comment.
“The others as in the faces?” I clarified.
“Yes.”
“You perceive them as…other people? Not just strange faces but separate entities?”
I knew I should avoid putting words in her mouth, as it was best to let her come to her own conclusions, but I couldn’t help myself. A part of me was morbidly curious, trying to accept how a child could brutally maim another child with nothing but a rock and her bare hands. The pictures provided from that day were visceral and disturbing. Brynn so far seems troubled, but not to this degree. Not to the degree of severe institutionalization, as the court suggested.
“Yeah!” Her face melted with relief, tears welling on her lower lashes. “They’re not human. Just shadows or glitches. But they follow me everywhere! And that girl, she wanted to hurt me! She told me awful things….”
And then the tears fell as she dissolved into sobs. I reached for my tissue box and handed it to her, allowing her to get it out of her system.
“You are very brave for telling me all this.” I started. She had her face buried in her palms, hiccuping. “We can be done for today if it’s too much.”
“It’s fine.” She choked. “I just need a minute.”
“Take all the time you need.”
I leaned back and glanced around the room, eyes flickering over the mirror hung on the wall behind the sofa. In the reflection was myself, my desk to the right, the window to the left spilling light from the afternoon.
And then I saw it. Like a spec or an illusion, there was a second face over my own. One with a twisted grin, hollow eyes, pupils swelled in the sclera. I shut my eyelids and shook my head. I didn’t even need to convince myself I was seeing things, I already felt so confidently I had. I opened them and saw it again, but much closer, face pressed against the other side of the mirror like it was a window.
I jumped, startled, and Brynn snapped her head up. “Sorry,” I laughed. “Just had a sudden chill.”
I’m not sure she could tell if I was lying, but regardless she didn’t push it. We concluded our session on a high note, talking about how proud I was of her progress. As soon as she left my office, I removed the mirror from the wall and stashed it into a closet.
Then, I made a call.
“Hello?” Brynn’s mother answered, voice etched in trepidation.
“Hi, Mrs. Barker,” I began. “I’m calling about Brynn’s progress so far in my sessions.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Barker was timid and sheepish, speaking at a barely audible murmur. “How is she doing?”
“Really well.” I replied. “But before my next session with her, I wanted to see if I could have you and your husband come in. I want to get your perspective, if that’s alright.”
“Just us?”
“For a session, yes.”
She paused. “That’s fine.” She answered.
We scheduled a time, and I hung up with an exhale.
When Mr. and Mrs. Barker arrived, I showed them to my office and had them choose their own seats. They sat on the sofa, a person’s length between them.
I asked then how they were, offered them some bottled water. They were very uncomfortable in each other’s presence as well as my own, displaying a clear lack of trust. I wondered how long they’d been like this, if it had anything to do with Brynn’s behavior.
“How long have you been together?” I began, wanting to see their reaction. Subtle facial expressions and body language would notify me whether or not the subject of their relationship was one of merriment or tension.
“Ten years,” Mr. Barker replied, seemingly neutral about the topic. “Married two years before Brynn was born.”
“That’s lovely,” I added. “My husband and I are coming up on our sixth year this June.”
“Congratulations.” Mrs. Barker smiled meekly.
“Do you have kids of your own?” The husband asked.
“No, we don’t plan on having children.” I replied. “But we do have plenty of pets.”
“That’s nice.” He nodded.
“Is it just you three at home?” I crossed my legs. “Any pets of your own?”
“We had a cat once.” Mrs. Barker fidgeted with her nails, picking at her cuticles. “That was a while ago.”
I figured this was enough preamble before diving into the meat of the conversation. “Brynn seems quite lonely,” I said. “Maybe another pet could help her, if you’re open to the idea.”
“We can’t trust her with pets anymore.” Mr. Barker stated. That piqued my interest.
“Do you mind telling me why?”
He pondered, then shook his head.
“Well, I won’t force your hand, of course.” I began. “But this is a safe space. The more you share with me, the better I can help Brynn.”
He sighed, then sunk further into the sofa. “Brynn was an infant when we had the cat.” He shared. “He was an older family cat from my late mother. One day, we heard Brynn crying from her crib. Julie went to check on her,” He glanced over to his wife. “And she found him in pieces.”
“Pieces?”
“He was strewn about like he had been mauled.” Julie answered. “It was…horrifying.”
“Do you think it might’ve been an intruder? A stray dog that may have wandered in your home?” I asked.
“No, that’s not possible. At the time we lived in an apartment, fifth story.” The husband said. “It wasn’t a large space. We would have heard someone enter.”
“When you saw the cat in the state he was in,” I thought aloud. “What was going through your mind?”
“I’m sorry, but I want to move on.” Julie looked distressed, so I dropped the subject.
“Anything else peculiar with Brynn? She’s told me some troubling things that she’s seen as of late.”
“The angels?” Julie raised both her brows. She saw my confusion and blushed.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I studied her. Angels was an interesting choice of words. I would’ve understood entities, ghosts, maybe glitches. But angels was very specific. “Has she called them angels?”
“No,” The husband’s faced morphed into a scowl. “Julie insists on calling them that.”
She shot him an apprehensive glare.
“So, regardless,” I continued. “How long has she been talking about these…angels?”
The husband looked to his wife, expecting her to answer. She did the same to him. Both had some kind of silent communication between the two of them, and Julie sighed. “We really wanted to have a baby.”
“Pardon?”
“Kent and I had gotten married and wanted to have a child.” Julie clarified. “I got pregnant with a girl.”
This wasn’t what I had initially asked, but I sat back and let her continue.
“Five months into pregnancy, I suffered a miscarriage. It was devastating. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was living a waking nightmare and I wanted to die.
“Then, one day, I was at the store and I ran across an older looking woman. She approached me and said she was sorry for my loss. I don’t know how she knew, and at first I was angry, telling her to screw off and leave me alone. But then she offered to help me. I was about to pass her off as crazy, but she handed me a card and told me to call her when I was ready.
“I wanted to throw that card away so badly. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know who this woman was, but on the card she listed herself as a ‘fertility witch’. Sounded made up but I was beside myself with grief. So I went anyway, and took Kent with me. He tried to talk me out of it but I just needed to see. Get the curiosity out of my system.”
“Her office was the very definition of what you’d expect.” Kent added. “Shrunken heads, animal bones, dried herbs, crystals. The woman beckoned Julie to lay down and offered to perform a ritual for free. We were uncomfortable and declined, but the woman said something that rattled us. She said the name of our baby, and there was no way she would’ve known. We had wanted the name to be a surprise, so only my wife and I knew.
“This should have been what sent us on our way, but Julie and I felt some kind of deeper connection. This woman seemed to be legit, and we allowed her to do the ritual.”
“And then I was pregnant again.” Julie said. “As if we got a second chance, Brynn was back inside me developing as a beautiful healthy baby. We delivered her with ease. We couldn’t have been happier.”
“And then the…’angels’ appeared.” Kent’s brows furrowed, his expression turning grim. “They followed Brynn everywhere, and by proxy began to haunt the people nearest her. We saw them in the dark corners of our house, the alleyways of downtown, in the reflections of the mirrors and car windows and water in the tub. We also tried to ignore them. But each birthday Brynn had, the angels would do something drastic, as if lashing out against us before fading back into distant apparitions.”
“The death of our cat was one such instance.” Julie added. “The others I don’t wish to speak of, but they are similar. She’d turn another year older, the angels would do something bad, and then cease to be an issue until next year. They never worsened in severity, so we falsely assumed we could manage. Prepare for what would happen and deal with it.”
“So,” I finally broke the silence, unsure of how to process this information. “This instance with Brynn attacking her schoolmate…is it birthday related?”
“No,” Julie broke into nervous tears. “That’s why we’re so scared.”
“It’s almost like it’s corrupting her now.” Kent held his wife’s hand and gave it a singular squeeze before letting go. “It’s starting to bleed into everyday life and we’re at our wits end.”
I looked at them for a moment before coming up with a response. “I’m sorry, but I find this incredibly hard to believe.” I began.
“I know, I know.” Kent looked pleading. “I know how crazy it sounds. But that’s why we’re telling you. You’re a professional child psychologist, not a psychic or paranormal nutcase. You aren’t going to take my words to heart because it sounds ridiculous. But Brynn has opened up to you. She trusts you, where as any help we’ve tried to get from the church or elsewhere has just made things worse.”
“Everyday it gets harder and harder not to be afraid.” Julie continued to cry. “It’s ruining our relationship with Brynn and each other. We just want to know how to help her.”
That night I was tossing and turning, unable to get any rest. I was hoping to get some clarity from Brynn’s parents, but what Julie and Kent shared with me only added to the confusion. Did I believe in the supernatural? Not really. But the Barkers were fully convinced that Brynn was being haunted by entities that were slowly beginning to influence her. And yet, I’ve seen movies with similar plots. The brief visage of said entity in my office mirror wasn’t enough proof to validate any of this as true.
So were they making this up? Why? What benefit would the Barkers have in telling me this tale of demons and witches when their child’s very well being was at stake? I was the one who the state hired to see whether or not Brynn needed juvenile psychiatric treatment. She had hurt another student to the point of irreversible damage. The only reason she wasn’t behind bars was because she was eight. So didn’t Kent and Julie see how serious this was?
I dissented these questions to my husband, leaving out names and specific details as per protocol (though if you’re reading this now, that got thrown out the window.) He agreed with what I said, but also suggested I request documentation of Brynn’s birth, if I was able to. Try to see if she really had “been born again.” I wasn’t too keen at first with the idea, but decided it could be beneficial in helping Brynn by rooting out what was and wasn’t the truth.
The documents, to my surprise, were granted. There was her birth certificate, a miscarriage certification from the state months prior, copies of tests from both times Julie was first reported to be pregnant. The timeframe in between the miscarriage certification to the birth of Brynn was…strangely short. Only four months separated the two dates, which perplexed me.
I knew I was beginning to tread upon territory outside my pay grade, but I was too invested. I reached out to the doctor that signed off on both documents, hoping maybe I could get some answers.
“Hello?” The woman on the phone picked up after the third ring. “Yes, hi, my name is Dr. Grey and I’m calling about one of your previous patients, Brynn Barker.” The woman paused. “And you’re supposed to be..?”
“Her psychologist,” I replied, trying to find a way to justify my calling. “I’ve been asked by the state to begin treatment for her but I’ve noticed a discrepancy in her forms of identification.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. Despite her no longer being my patient, I have a confidentiality agreement.”
My hopes fell. “Ok, I understand. Tha-“
“But I no longer work for that hospital anyways,” She continued. “So said agreement must no longer apply, right? Not sure that’s how it works but we’ll roll with it.”
“Well, I would love it if you could perhaps stop by my offic-“
Again, another interruption. “Let’s meet somewhere else. Keep it on the down low.” “I understand.”
That evening I met up with her at a local sports bar. I found her sitting alone at a booth, drinking a beer and staring intently at her phone. I introduced myself and we shook hands before I sat.
And then, after I explained to her what the Barkers had told me, she shared her side of the story. It’s not unheard of for a woman to be pregnant soon after the gestation period of her previous miscarriage. If she was ovulating, she could be pregnant with another baby within the week. But according to the woman, Julie had shown back in her office a month later, six months pregnant. That was medically impossible. She tried to run more tests, consult other doctors, but the higher up’s ended up saying that she had made a mistake prior. But she hadn’t.
Undoubtedly, the fetus hadn’t survived in Julie’s womb. The woman even had a prognosis for the miscarriage, a cervical insufficiency. Despite this, Brynn was born healthy and it seemed the matter would get swept under the rug.
“Then I was approached by an older lady.” She continued. “This lady wasted no time telling me that she had performed a ritual on Julie in order to allow her to be pregnant, but it appeared to have backfired. Rather than have a new child, Julie’s womb appears to have reanimated her deceased child, which in the lady’s words ‘borders on necromancy.’” The woman shook her head.
“I was taken aback by the absurdity of these claims, but she told me to quit my practice at once. There are these angels that try to settle the score of death. If someone comes back to life, they intervene. I guess they can’t take back the life directly, but they will take the lives of others until the scales are balanced. It’s not as easy as an eye for eye. These angels will wreak all kinds of havoc and curse any who seek to get in their way. Which is why she advised I quit my job, for it would have unattended consequences there on. And so I ignored her outright.”
She looked to her hands, appearing guilty. “It took the stillbirth of my next two patients for me to finally understand. Any woman I saw I’d inevitably doom to suffer the loss of her child. I tried to get in contact with some of the other staff surrounding Brynn’s birth. Some of them killed themselves. Some others went insane. Most vanished without a trace.”
Then she turned to me with a look of urgency on her face. “Dr. Grey, I know it’s your job to help. Believe me. But Brynn cannot be saved, and you’ll damn yourself the more you try to interfere. If I were you, I’d tell the state she needs to be put away for the safety of herself and everyone around her.”
I was disgusted by her reply. So much so I stood without a single word and left the bar in a hurry. I got to my car and sat, gripping the steering wheel. After calming myself down with some deep breaths, I looked up and saw a fucked up version of Brynn behind me, reaching over with speed to grab onto my neck and strangle me. I struggled for breath and I tried to fight her off me, but it was unrelenting. I reached for my keys and stabbed one of them onto its arm, and it recoiled long enough for me to catch some air. I threw myself out of the car and fell onto the pavement, scrambling away. I turned back and saw my car was empty. I had merely stabbed my keys into the foam of my seat.
Now I sit at home, after having worked up the courage to re-enter my car. I have another meeting with Brynn tomorrow. But given all I know, and all I’ve seen, I’m not sure what to do.
I don’t want to abandon a child in need. It goes against everything I stand for as a person. But I’m not sure I have what it takes to give Brynn the help she needs.
Even now, my husband is making dinner in the kitchen behind me. I have to turn my back against him, because every time I see him from the corner of my eye, I notice his eyes are missing from his face

Time had barely passed, the memory of her presence was still so fresh as to be palpable, when I entered the Deathgrounds of Love. For many, unrequited love diminishes before it can mount further and poison the heart. It fades as life goes on, and infatuations are forgotten; paramours become little more than half-remembered follies. But my love for her grew even as we drifted apart, even as her disdain for me blossomed into a multi-thorned and blackly petaled flower. Almost ironically it grew, until it finally manifested as a material, tangible thing: a heart, which came to beat with malignant autonomy upon a veiny stalk, in the midst of that graven place where unchecked love evilly flourishes.
Unguarded—at its gates, at least—were the grounds when I arrived, doubly delirious with grief and wonderment. I had not known of the place beforehand. It was only with the impossible manifestation of that heart, born of my anguish, that I became suddenly and providentially aware of the the graveyard and its unwholesome, reality-defying contents.
Despite what had occurred—and what apparently always occurs among the worm-riddled, blood-sodden soil—the place was not a garden; life found itself thriving there, yes, but not any life born of God's design. And death was chief above all, no matter how many vital organs beat ceaselessly from stalk to arterial stalk.
I entered ignorant of what I may find, beyond that which I had been drawn to upon waking suddenly earlier that morning. The outer grounds were rank with an earthy and coppery smell, like the dank, pulpy earth of a fresh battlefield. I got the impression that lives had been spent upon the grey soil, hundreds if not thousands of them; and yet there was only the dismal land, overhanged by a subtle atmosphere of mist, and environed by old trees. Beyond this mist I could just barely discern the inner plots; and I knew that therein I'd find my second heart.
Further in I progressed, until I entered that sepulchral garden, with its rows upon rows of vegetative hearts, sprouted with unsettling plumpness from the soil like overly ripe fruits. The audibility of their beating was maddening; it was as if thousands of people had been stripped of their flesh, leaving only their still-animate hearts. Even worse, they beat not in unison, but in horrible discordance - no two hearts held the same rhythm.
And yet somehow through the tachycardiac chaos I sensed my own - that is to say the heart to which I'd been tirelessly drawn.
Like an automaton I trudged on, my shoes sinking into the blood-laden soil; my sight blurred by the newly emergent haze of crimson. My mind befogged by the increasingly humid air.
With an automatic gentleness I pushed through the rows of unfamiliar hearts until I came upon my own. There it was, visually indistinct among the others, and yet I knew without a shred of doubt that it was mine. It pulsed with a steady rhythm, bleeding from its valves as if there were arteries to carry away the blood; a vascular system through which it could circulate. Despite the morbidity of it, I found it beautiful, as if it was something I'd searched for my entire life; some long-sought treasure of my nightly dreams.
So marveled was I, that I didn't notice the approach of the stranger. It wasn't until he had placed a hand on my shoulder that I became aware of him. I recoiled, but was kept from jumping back by the firmness of his gloved grip. He was a tall old man, dressed in a long grey overcoat, at the waist of which sat some kind of multi-pocketed workman's belt. There were several pouches affixed to the belt, and all bore black splotches of some unidentifiable substance. He wore what I assumed had once been black boots, but were now stained a deep crimson - undoubtedly from having spent innumerable hours trudging through the blood-rich soil.
His face was old and severe, with a blackly stained beard that trailed thinly down to his chest. His coal-black eyes met my own, and for a brief moment I felt as if was being pulled from my own body and examined in some outré, incorporeal pocket of space. A moment later, the phantasmal feeling passed, and the man released his iron grip on me.
"You've come for the heart, that it?"
I nodded, not yet able to form words; the shock of his appearance still fresh.
He grunted, and his voice reminded me of a dying animal I'd once seen on the road: harsh and guttural, defiant against pity and death. In his other hand he held a pair of garden shears, and with these he gestured towards the heart.
"Ye can have it, it's yers. But I'll have to take the one ye got in ye. An exchange. Don't fret about the pain. Ye won't feel it."
This proposition reigned in my mind from the state of fantastical acceptance it had gone to. Suddenly I became acutely, frighteningly aware that I was standing in a cemetery full of human hearts, all of which had somehow grown from the ground; and that this caretaker had actually offered to cut out mine in exchange for the one beating before me. It was ludicrous, macabre beyond measure.... and yet it was real.
"Ye should know: that in taking this here heart, you'll be happy, happier than you've ever been. But you'll forget the person you're longing for. They'll be wiped from yer memory. That's the price. Or the relief, depending."
The thought of a future without the nightly anguish of having lost her—made doubly terrible by the fact that it had been my fault—seemed almost too good to be true. But the idea of losing her completely, of having her smile erased from my memory, her voice lost to the mental void....it was inconceivable. To have loved and lost, and all that.
As much as it pained me to, I denied the man's bizarre offer.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on my chest - my heart. He pointed his empty hand at me and said, "Are ye sure? If left unchecked, it could kill ye. The grief. The sorrow. I've seen it, time and time again."
Had I not come to my senses about the utter weirdness of the situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed the almost imperceptible changes in his demeanor and posture. There was a yearning in his stance, a predatory hunger. Given the circumstances, it felt vampiric.
I backed away from him, again reiterating that I'd like to keep my heart, no matter what trouble it could cause me down the line. The stranger sighed, exhaling a visible cloud of what appeared to be black smoke or vapor.
"Too bad. I'm damn hungry."
That was the final kick my brain needed to fully recognize and piece together all the little clues laid around me. The soil, whilst predominantly a deep red, also held clumps of black matter in places - almost always near the beating hearts. This was plainly not mulch or any kind of gardening substance; the clumps were fleshy, some slick with what was obviously blackened blood. And that led me to two other points of observation: the man's belt, with its stained pouches, and his darkly stained beard - as if he'd been eating something that leaked black juices.
"Ah. You've put it together, have ye? No matter."
His eyes must've followed mine as I surveyed the scene before me. Still, the truth, the horrid reality, hadn't yet come to me.
"I eat the hearts given to me. Turned black they've been, in their grief. Fat, poisoned things. Only the most terminal are drawn to this place. Ye have a sick heart, and are better off without it. Serves ye no purpose to keep it. Why not let me eat it? Keeps me full, and keeps me own inklings towards love at bay. Stamps em down, so I never feel a thing. Never have to love, and lose. Never again..."
He seemed to mentally close upon himself for a moment, so I took the opportunity to begin my retreat. With much less care than before I pushed through the rows of hearts, heedless of how much damage I dealt to the organs and their repulsive stalks. Quickly I returned to that barren terrain before the plots, where the soil was a much more tolerable grey, and where the atmosphere was free of that delirious scarlet haze and its stifling humidity.
I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Just as I did so, a shriek echoed into the night, and a voice full of mad demonic fury tore through the trees, sending the nesting birds skyward.
"Give me your fucking heart!"
I should've continued onward, the gate was only a few yards away; but the Satanic magnitude of the voice was irresistibly attention-grabbing. I felt compelled to see what kind of odious creature could've projected such anger, even though I'd seen the man just moments before.
The ground began to shake, and the withered trees trembled, loosing half-dead leaves onto the ground. And that awful scarlet haze came rolling over the boughs, deeply tinting the atmosphere as if it were a living thing. A sentient cloud of evil.
And from amidst the malignant haze came a thing that might have once been a man, but had undergone a transformation so repugnantly profound that any remaining elements of humanity appeared as mockeries of the form. It towered above the feeble trees, even using their tops as points of stability as it lurched toward me. It's body was vaguely anthropomorphic, distantly human, but outwardly fish-like; the flesh of some selachian nightmare draped over the skeleton of a man.
A face, contorted abhorrently to fit an angular, newly mutated skull, bared a broad maw at me. The teeth shone like an assassin's daggers in the night, sending chills throughout my body. Even as it cleared the tree line and revealed itself fully to me, I could not move: I was so completely transfixed by the depravity of its body, by the unreality of its existence.
"Ye could've given me your heart, and all would've been well. But now...now you've gone and made me take off me coat. I don't like to take off me coat. I don't like having to work for me food. I'm all out of it, and I won't let the thoughts of love come back to me. I won't allow it. Now, c'mere and let me pull you apart."
Despite his hideous transformation, his voice was largely unchanged. Just deeper, more guttural, his ire made plain. The lack of any overt monstrous intonation only made the only whole ordeal more terrifying.
Wrenching control away from the panicked part of my mind, I forced my body to turn and move towards the gate. The thing bounded after me like some frenzied animal, shaking the ground with its every step. I pumped my legs to their absolute limits, reaching the gate just as the humidity of the haze tickled the back of my neck.
I threw it open, leapt through, and slammed it just as that colossal nightmare reached it. I wouldn't have thought the old gate any real match for its massive frame, but the rusted iron held against the horror's assault. The haze was also somehow kept at bay, not a single particle of the mysterious vapor breaching the bars despite how thickly it pressed upon it.
Before it could pull some trick or transform into something capable by bypassing the providentially sturdy gate, I turned away and ran back to my car. And while the creature didn't follow me, its hateful voice did.
"The heart! Bring back your heart!"
I drove away without looking back.