#i saw one in my neighbours yard up the road and got so upset like that could've been me with a cement mixer in my yard

[unamused-kookaburra]

Thinking about the bad bitch I fumbled 😔 (the cement mixer someone left on their nature strip for the cyclone clean up that I kept forgetting to tell my dad about before the council took it)

[imnotwolverine]

The girl next door - Good riddance

The Girl Next Door - Chapter 4 GOOD RIDDANCE

<Chap 3 | Chap 5>

Summary: Lizz’s ex Luis made a surprise visit, which leaves Lizz quite shaken. Also, it’s about time for some spring grooming and blooming. 

Word count: 1.975

Warnings: strong language, fluff (literally), mention of breaking up, sadness

(Link to my Masterlist)

Did he do something wrong?

It was a question that kept turning over and over in Henry’s head after Lizz had scurried off. Or.. did she just forget she was having guests over? It sure must be beyond awkward that she had to come running from her neighbours house in nothing but a towel.

Either way.

Those guests must have left, since he could no longer see the unfamiliar car on her driveway.

And it was time for Kal’s walk. So. Here he was, much more hesitant than usual, his feet kicking some stones, as he slowly got closer to Lizz’s house.

Would she come greet him like she usually did? Or had things changed now that they…

The thought alone of what happened this morning flushed his cheeks, his heart skipping a beat as he finally reached Lizz’s garden, his eyes desperately looking for any sign of the fiery red head. 

No Lizz.

Hmm.

Walking a few meters further, his neck reaching to see if the visiting car was maybe moved, he noted there was no sign of life. Perhaps they went out? He did remember that she was expecting a visit from some friends soon. Maybe that was today?

Kal pushed his wet nose in Henry’s hand and Henry awoke from his stare, his chest feeling tight as he tried his best to shrug off the tumultuous thoughts that tumbled around in his head. Looking back down at his trusty pal, he scratched the dog behind his ear and turned back to the road, continuing their morning walk as Henry tried his utter best to just enjoy the spring sun and chirping birds above their heads.

Upon returning from his walk, curiosity got the better of Henry and with one swift fling of the legs he stepped over the small garden wall that separated Lizz’s front yard from the small country road. Kal excitedly followed, taking it as an invitation to zoom past Henry and pick up his favourite stick from its usual spot next to the garden table. The spot where Henry and Lizz would always have their morning tea.

It made Henry’s heart clench with agony and fear. Why didn’t she say she had plans today? Why did all this happen? What if everything between them was ruined now?

Henry’s eye flicked back at Kal, the large dog galloping towards the backyard.

‘Kal! KAL! Stop. Here boy. Heel!’ Henry whispered between clenched teeth. Thankfully, the big dog was obedient enough to forgo his initial plan, and slowly, albeit begrudgingly, trodded back to Henry, two puppy eyes looking back up at his owner. Henry gave him a discerning look.

‘We gotta be quiet now boy. Don’t wanna spook Lizz.’ He said in a hushed tone. Kal tilted his head, a bit confused, but also curious about what was to happen.

Slowly Henry sneaked towards the house, making sure he wasn’t immediately visible through the large windows, and peaked inside.

What he saw was not anything he had expected.

*KLANG BANG…BOOM!*

Lizz sat up, her tear rimmed eyes looking fearfully at the direction of the side kitchen where the loud noise had come from. Her lip started to shiver again and she wished she could just merge right into the wall she was leaning against..and disappear.

‘GO AWAY LUIS.’ She shouted, her voice much too feeble for her liking.

It was quiet for a moment, and then, finally, the floor boards creaked as the intruder slowly came closer. Lizz’s heart started to boom in panic and all she could think of was crawl. Crawl, crawl, crawl to the very back-end wall of her dining room. Which was not an easy feat as she was still only wrapped in that towel, the darned thing continuously unwrapping and near falling down.

With one hand she held it up, her fist keeping it tightly wrapped around her body, while her knees thudded a-rhythmically over the wooden floor.

‘Lizz.’

It wasn’t Luis. Oh gods.

Lizz stopped crawling, new tears pricking her eyes as she slowly looked around.

Henry, his big puppy eyes looking at her with worry and sorrow. It made Lizz choke up even more, slow tears starting to billow down her cold cheeks.

‘Hey..it’s…’ Henry started, swallowing back a lump in his throat. His heart broke for her, but he also didn’t dare to get closer or say something wrong. And so he halted in the middle of the doorway, his hands reaching out to show he came in peace.

‘I can leave if you want. I just..’ He bit his lip and nodded at the window. ‘I guess I got a little worried and…’ Lizz started to bawl her eyes out, her body shaking with the release of heavy sobs.

Henry was a bit at loss with what to do. Stay? Leave? Get closer? Get her clothes, maybe? Or.. At least some tissues. Yes, tissues. Like a peace offering. He looked down the hall towards the stairs and turned on his heel to look for some tissues.

‘No..no..stay.’ Lizz sobbed.

Henry halted again, looking over his shoulder at the little ball of red hair and pale limbs that sat there on the dark oak floor, wrapped in a slightly dirty white towel. Okay, maybe he needed to sooth her a bit first. He sighed and stepped back to his initial spot, licking his lips and looking through the window, seeing a very curious Kal pushing his nose against the glass, small damp circles washing over the glass. A very soft chuckle escaped his lips.

‘What?’ She scowled, not seeing what he was looking at through her teary eyes.

‘It’s…Kal. He wants to come comfort you I think. Can I…’ Henry hesitated, flicking his eyes between Lizz and Kal. ‘Can I let him in?’

Lizz shrugged, which Henry interpreted as “fine”.

With a few large strides Henry walked down the hallway, unlocking the front door (he himself had climbed in through the open window of the side kitchen) and whistled, calling Kal to come in.

The large hound didn’t waste a moment, flashing past Henry’s thighs and going straight for Lizz. Henry chuckled and slowly closed the door, listening intently and smiling at what he heard. Happy panting, tapping of excited feet and the sound of Lizz’s slightly upbeat cooing; Henry figured that the dog was doing a good job at lifting Lizz’s spirits somewhat. An idea that was confirmed as he walked back to the doorway, finding Kal licking Lizz’s laughing face, his large tongue removing her salty tears and giving her a second bath for today.

‘Oh boy. You miss me?’ Lizz giggled softly, letting her hands drag through his thick black and white fur.

Henry decided it was a good moment to move a little closer as well, his feet halting a meter or so away from Lizz and Kal. Squatting down he finally got Lizz to look back at him, her doe brown eyes peering at him with quiet sadness. Lizz sighed and continued to stroke Kal, noticing how large wads of fur were sticking to her fingers.

‘Ai…looks like he needs a grooming session.’ She said with a soft voice, her lips curling in a very gentle smile as Kal twirled his ears. Grooming? Grooming!

Henry chuckled and nodded his head. ‘Yep. Was actually planning on doing that today…’ Their eyes met again. ‘..Can I help?’ Lizz asked, hopeful. Henry’s smile grew - okay, good, she didn’t hate him - and shrugged. ‘Sure, there’s enough dog for the both of us to groom.’

‘So would you care to tell me what happened..?’ Henry tried carefully, picking up the falling hair from the akita as Lizz was brushing out his thick fur on Henry’s patio, the midday sun shining brightly on their heads. They had been going at it for some 20 minutes now and even though already half a dog’s worth of fur had been removed, the end was definitely not in sight.

Lizz shrugged, her eyes remaining trained on her hand as it tugged the brush through Kal’s thick coat.

‘I guess I should have told a bit more about my ex.’ She sighed, halting her hand and looking up at Henry, who sat at the other side of Kal. He raised his eyebrows, gesturing her to go on.

‘So. Luis. I did tell you a little about him. We dated off and on for some years. He’s a musician. My first real love. And..well..’ Lizz threw her eyes up at the sky, looking at the little wad-like clouds that drifted past.

‘..I guess he’s just a selfish jerk and I kept on refusing to see that.’

‘Did he hurt you?’ Henry’s voice broke quite abruptly through her thoughts, her eyes flying back at him.

‘No..no..’ She shook her head, thinking for a moment. ‘..well maybe emotionally a bit. Last time we saw each other he broke up with me “so I didn’t have to miss him while he was on tour”.’

Henry frowned and reached out to take the brush from her, continuing to groom his side of Kal. She handed it to him without question, sitting back down on the ground and folding her legs up.

‘And let me guess..today he returned?’ Henry smiled a pained expression. Lizz nodded quietly and sighed. She was obviously still very upset about Luis’ visit.

‘He saw me come up in my towel and I explained I had a little shower problem, which happens when a house is in such shit condition..’ Lizz took a deep breath.. ‘And then he immediately started to tell me how silly I am. And that I was probably “shagging that neighbour too”.’ She used her fingers to quote him, her eyes widening in exasperation. Henry tried his best to keep a poker face. Shagging the neighbour. Well. Almost, Luis. Almost.

‘When I told him he had to mind his own business and he couldn’t just show up without warning, he got annoyed. “I thought we had something special.” Well. Fuck you Luis. Fuck you and your fucking shit behaviour. I mean he didn’t even as much as CALL me when he was away. He just disappeared without a trace. Left me to my own devices and..’ Lizz’s eyes started to tear up again, her voice become wobbly. ‘Ugh..I just hate him.’ She sulked, another few tears billowing down her cheeks.

Henry kept combing Kal, his free hand scratching Kal’s chin - more to calm himself than the dog. Seeing Lizz choke up again made him swallow another heavy lump away. Gosh he hated to see her cry. And whoever this Luis was; he was a turd that best be burned and flushed.

‘And then..? After you told him that?’ Henry inquired, seeing Lizz’s tears had quieted down again.

‘Then he started to argue I should at least give him the chance to make it up to me. That he had been an idiot.’ Lizz rolled her eyes. ‘So far for self-understanding..an idiot he sure is. But eh..I got angry and I..sent him off. Told him to never come back.’

Henry couldn’t help but feel a certain pride for Lizz’s resolution. And a little sparkle of hope bloomed in chest, knowing what it could also mean. Could she …start to like him now? Like something more than a neighbour? More than friends with benefits? Or whatever it is they were doing?

Henry’s lips curled up in a sweet smile as Lizz looked back up at him, their little moment quickly disrupted as their attention was drawn to a little bird that hopped on Kal’s back, plucking the hair right out of the brush in Henry’s hand.

‘HAHAHAH.’ Lizz burst out laughing, seeing Henry’s confused face as the bird gave him a challenging head tilt. “Whatcha gonn’ do about that hmm, human? Catch me? I think not!” The bird quickly flew off with the large wad of hair, leaving a flabbergasted Henry behind. ‘Cheeky bugger.’ Henry muttered, also breaking out in loud laughter.

‘Good riddance to that.’ Lizz smiled. ‘Indeed.’ Henry wheezed, his chest shaking with laughter.

| Chap 5 >

[8emmy]

(Not So) Sweet Home Velaris

Chapter 4: Runners Always Runs

AO3 links: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 and Chapter 4

Song 1

Song 2

Nesta didn't stay after that. Feyre was more than upset, and all of her friends didn't know how to react or talk to Nesta. Armen went back to her crossword after she was done inspecting the ring. Elain was sweet, but she was upset, she moved over to assist Azriel and Cassian with the burgers. And so Nesta got up from her chair. She didn't look at anyone as she left the kitchen and went up the stairs to Elain's room to sleep.

She took off her dress and replaced it with a night set. She washed her face and her teeth in the bathroom and ignored the height marks on the door frame as she went to bed. Nesta was under the covers by the time Feyre came into Elain's room. Nesta's back was to her.

"Nesta," Feyre's voice was steeled cold. Nesta didn't turn. "Nesta," Feyre comes over to the bed. "Your not asleep." Feyre sits down on the mattress, but Nesta doesn't stir. "I don't understand what we, especially Elain, did to make you break contact with us. I would like to know what we did to hurt you to the point that you want nothing from us." Feyre's voice softens as she goes on. Nesta bites her lip, trying her hardest not hold on the whimpers.

Feyre shifted on the bed. Her hand lands on Nesta's calf. "I understand that you want nothing from me. But to do this to Elain. To push her out of your life, not telling her that you are marrying again. I don't understand where this cruelty is coming from."  

Nesta could taste the copper of her blood, can feel the tears well up. "I would think that after the life we have shared. The pain we had to endure that you would keep mom's wish for us. To get over our petty fights and love one another as if it will be our last. Nesta, as much as I wish that you were not divorcing Cassian, I will always stand by with your choices. I was young when we fought, angry and confused that you left us with only a note. I was hurt. But I always thought that you would reach out to us so I could apologize. And here you are with a hidden engagement," Feyre's voice broke. Nesta could feel her warm tears fall from her eyes. Could feel the path of them reaching her jaw and dropping on to the bed. She bites down her sobs.

It was quiet for a while. Two broken sisters sitting in Elain's magical garden. "I told," Feyre whispers as if not to break the silence, "Elain, that she can't have this many plants in her room." Feyre sighs. Her hand on Nesta's calf begins to pat it over Elain's quilt. Nesta was stiff as aboard.

"Nesta, I would never..." Feyre stops to take a deep breath. "Nes, I love you, but you can be so heartless sometimes. I don't know why you had to abandon us. I don't know where any of this is coming from."

Feyre takes her hand from Nesta's calf. Nesta could feel Feyre's eyes burn holes in the back of her head. Could feel the hurt radiate off of her like heat. Could hear Feyre's tears as they rolled down freckled paint-stained cheeks. But Nesta didn't stir. Her breaths were shallow, and her eyes bloodshot from her own tears.

"Nesta, I would hope you will reconsider your guest list and invite Elain," Feyre finally says before standing up and walking out of Elain's room.

Nesta sat up from the bed after the door closed and looked out the window. She could see Cassian and Rhys stand by Elain's garden, talking in hush tones. Nesta could guess what they were talking about. Nesta's cruelty. She laid back down on her back and stared at the ceiling trying to will her self back to sleep.

_________________

Nesta awoke to Elain's arm sprawled over her face. Nesta got up and began to look through Elain's closet for running gear. Once suited up in a pair of active leggings in lilac, a sports bra one size too big and a giant hoddie with her old high school's name on it, she hit the road.

She was once a track team member. Her father thought it was the best thing for his daughters to cope with the loss of their mother to join sports teams. Nesta running, Elain swimming and Feyre with kickboxing. Nesta found that the burning that came from her muscles, her lungs and the fact that there was no need to purchase a membership when you had a pavement to follow made running her favourite activity. She ran throughout the end of middle school through high school and into university.

Nesta woke up before the sun today and ran down the road toward town. She knew this path like the back of her hand. She ran it so many times in her life.

She pushed herself only to a limit that would make her muscles sing just a little before running down Main Street and turning back towards home. She past Vin's General Store to see Isaac get out of his truck to open up for the day. She past Suriel's law practice and the post office. She past the only cafe in town before she stopped at the lights. She saw Cassian's truck roll up at the same time she stopped to catch her breath. Saw him as he crawled up and stoped. Watched him as his eyes met hers.

"Cassian," she says breathlessly. She walks up and knocks on his passenger window. Cassian rolls it down. "Call the house line when you get back into town. I understand that your hurt, but we need to get this done."

Cassian's eyes burn with what Nesta could only interpret as rage. He rolls his window back up, and with that, he was out of town going towards the Steppes.

Nesta ran back towards the house with the sunrise on her back. She watched the colours come back on the trees and the yellowing yards of neighbours. She doesn't think that it was odd for Cassian to be heading out of town on a workweek. She doesn't dwell on how he reacted yesterday to her announcement. She doesn't think about Feyre's comments in last night's darkness. She doesn't think about anything about calling Tomas and finally confessing that she was in town to see her family. She was not about to tell him about her horrible estranged husband.

_________________

"Nesta, is everything alright?" Tomas's voice came from her cellphone in clipped static. Nesta put down her mug of coffee.

"I am alright. I just wanted to let you know that I have extended my visit." She tells him, looking out to the backyard to Elain's frame as she moved from her vegetable patch.

"Not for too long, we need you here. We have a wedding that is coming up. Your not playing runaway bride?" Tomas's voice was a little over annoyed.

"I am not running away. I have family in the area, and I decided to visit them." She hears Feyre walk into the kitchen already dressed in her overalls. Feyre grabs a cup from the cupboard. "My sisters live in Velaris," Nesta sighs.

"Your sisters? I didn't know you had sisters? We didn't invite them to our wedding. Are you inviting them? If you are, we have to rearrange the entire seating chart. Nesta, you need to tell me about these things," Tomas sounded more and more annoyed by the second. He didn't even seem to care that he just learned that she had relatives that lived on the other side of the continent.

"I was going to, four people should be easy enough to shift in there somewhere," Nesta sighs again, pulling her mug up to her lips to drink the dark liquid inside in hopes that the headache she had would null due to the caffeine intake.

"And you still haven't emailed the wedding planners back. We have things to solidify. Nesta, baby, you need to take some of this seriously. When we wed, you will be hosting a lot of parties, and if you can't handle our wedding, how are you going to handle Yule party planning?"

"Hire a party planner? Tom, I have to go. I promise I will get back to the wedding planners today. Love you," she says, rubbing a hard circle in her temple.

"Love you too, babe." And with that, Tomas ends the phone call, and Nesta bites her lip to hide her groan.

She gets up with her mug still full of coffee. Feyre leaned against the kitchen cabinet, watching her with a wince, "he sounds... lovely."

"He's just high strung. He wants the wedding to be perfect, and he thinks I am not taking it seriously enough," she tells Feyre, moving over to sink to dump her coffee.

Feyre hums. Nesta knew just from that that Feyre was not sold on her new life choices and partner that was not Cassian. "I don't have the invites in hand, but if you and Elian would like to come to my wedding, I can send you the invites. You and Elain both will have a plus one." It was a peace offering, and she only hoped that both sisters would decline.

"Yeah, send me the information, and I look into it," Feyre says with a tight-lipped smile. Nesta nods and leaves the kitchen.

[dorotheajanegilmore]

Closer to you - Chris Evans

CHAPTER ONE

Throwing my small brown faux leather bag over my shoulder, I raced down the cold metal staircase at the back of my apartment building. The elevator had broken down throwing a wrench into the works of my morning and now I was breaking a sweat to get myself back on track.

Finally the rusted blue door of an exit was in site. Just outside were the freezing cold streets of Manhattan.

My palms met the blue metal and my arms pushed until my elbows were flat. The door pushed through the snow leaving a semi-circle of wet pavement exposed beneath. 

I ran through the frosty street, passing a few strangers. As I came to the end of the street where the quiet road merged with the busy road, a familiar white Toyota came purring around the corner. 

My best friend Holly pulled up at the girl and she leaned across the pull the hand. "Quickly, get in!" She yelled as I hurried across the icy road.

I practically threw myself into the passenger seat and as soon as my door closed Holly sped off. "Let's go girls." 

I looked back at my friends in the back seat. "Morning."

Teegan gave a small wave and Chloe nodded, both of them struggling to keep their eyes open.

I let out a sigh as I took my phone out of my bag, knowing I would have a series of unanswered messages from my mother. "Listen to this." I started, glancing at my friends to get their attention. "Good morning sweetie, have you left yet? Lessi ? You awake? Darling? Have you left the city yet? Where are you? Do you want me to send dad to come and get you? Are you even awake? Oh child of mine do you see the morning light? Hurry up and get here before dinner gets cold. Granddads not getting any younger." My friends were sent into fits of laughter at my mother's lunacy.

“Your mother is the greatest." Teegan mumbled, nearly asleep.

"Agreed. Tracey's the queen of sarcasm." Holly added as she drove onto the highway.

We had a twenty minute bout of silence as we all broke free from the morning anger, apart from Holly who seemed to be too chill for someone with dangerous road rage.

We stopped at McDonald's for some breakfast before hitting the road again. About fifteen minutes into the resumes drive Holly glances at me. "So, does your Mom know about Simon?"

"Alvin And Theodore? Yeah she knows the chipmunks." I bite my lip and look out the window, trying to dodge the question and giving my answer.

Holly rolled her eyes, there was no way she was letting this go. She briefly lifted her hand from the gear stick to hit me on the knee. "Answer me."

"Yeah she knows." I mumbled quietly, just loud enough for my girls to hear. Even though we were secure in the four walls of Holly's car, I still felt like I should be secretive about the subject of Simon.

Simon Holdsworth was my boyfriend for four years before dumping me. Me! After I found him cheating on me in MY bed with some NYU art student who stole my jewellery and the batteries from my tv remote. Ok maybe she didn't take my batteries but I have no other explanation for that so she's getting the blame.

"His mother called my mom and yelled at her because I was a apparently a bitch to Simon. She said I didn't allow him creative freedom to express himself with other women." I rolled my eyes and cursed under my breath.

"Hippies." Chloe shook her head as she picked her nails, remembering when she first met Simon's mother. When Simon first moved in with me we had a house warming party on the roof of our apartment building. Simon's mother, Nora, brought two bags of weed and brownies and set up camp in my living room. Nora also brought various scarfs and blankets that she draped over my living. She also replaced the coasters that my mother bought me for ounces made from tree bark that had been carved into peace signs. Chloe threw them in her log burner as soon as Simon moved out.

"What did Tracey say?" Teegan asked. All of my friend were on first name basis with the fantastic woman that birthed me. Not only were we best friends, we were raised together. We were all born in the same hospital, in the same city. We were raised in the same town, same schools, same university. Plus Teegan is my second cousin so.

"She laughed, told her to piss off and put the phone down."

"Yes Tracey." They all cheered her on.

"It's a pity you can't do the same thing." Holly replied with a serious tone, raising a brow at me.

"Hey, you know I'm strong-willed when it comes to people screwing me over. I just like to argue with him, he tried to get to me. He purposely likes to call and harass to upset me, he wants me to break. He would love nothing more than to see me cry. But he won't win, he won't." I shook my head, feeling the anger curse through me again. "He thrives on hurting people. But he won't hurt me, I won't let him."

"Good on you." Chloe nodded, putting a supportive hand on my shoulder.

Holly nodded in approval. "That's our girl."

\|\|\|\|\

It took three hours and forty minutes to get form Manhattan to the little town of Fairfield, Massachusetts. Soon enough we were surrounded by familiar buildings that had now been covered in a blanket of snow and driving through streets we used to run drunkenly through as we disobeyed our parents (and the law.)

First Holly dropped Chloe to her folks house, then Teegan to hers and finally I was looking at my parents house. I looked back at Holly with a puppy dog look and asked "Can I come to your house for thanksgiving?"

"Of course you can." Holly out a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "Next year." She then have me a playful shove and I opened the door.

"Thanks for the lift. See you later yeah?" I asked, knowing I'd be needing a drink after an hour with this crazy lot.

"Sure, I'll text you." She nodded.

I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and headed to the pavement. I gave Holly a wave and she watched me walk up to the driveway. She waited until I knocked and somebody answered before she drove away, always one for safety.

My little brother Alex opened the door. "Shit, when did you get so tall?" I cursed looking up at the nineteen year old.

He chuckled deeply and stepped back for me to go in. "You mean since I saw you two years ago? Yes I've grown. When did you get so short?"

"It's all the coffee." I shrugged as I left my suitcase in the downstairs cupboard and headed into the living room, at least I thought it was the living room. It was in the same place and it was the same shape, however it was all so different.

The red poppy wallpaper above the grey stone fireplace had been taken down and replaced with a cream paper with turquoise flowers, it also had an overspray if light silver glitter that matched the silver chandelier and doorhandles. The normally dark doors had been replaced with white ones and the rest of the walls painted white as well. My sweet childhood cottage had been replaced with a modern townhouse.

The burgundy couches had been replaced with chocolate colours leather and my dad's favourite recliner was nowhere is sight.

Moving further throughout the house i couldn't see any of my relatives. I looked back at Alex and asked "So, where is everyone?"

"Dad's in the garage working on the car and Mom, Nana and Lucy are in the garden with Joe and Leo." I nodded and walked through the kitchen to get to the back door.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw that there was now an orangery that had been extended into the back of our house, I glanced back at Alex to see him shrug at me.

He stepped around me and walked through the orangery into the open backyard. I followed slowly, taking in the new changes. I quickly glanced back at the kitchen. Huh, no changes their. The grey slate and white marble must've been modern enough for Mom.

I stepped out into the yard to see my mother, sister and grandmother gathered at the fence talking to our neighbours. Joe and Leo were over at the trampoline, at least there was one piece of my childhood left.

Leo gave me a wave and I waved back, this must've caught my nephew's attention as he stopped jumping, letting gravity drop him on his ass so he could jump from the trampoline and sprint across the yard.

As he ran at me I saw him lift his arms and I knew exactly what he was gonna do. He jumped as high as he could, I reached forward and caught him at the torso and he wrapped his arms around my neck.

"Auntie Alessia!" He yelled as he hugged me tightly. His shouting caused my family to turn their attention to me. I hugged Joe back before setting him down on the soft grass and kneeling down to talk to him.

"Hi bud! How are you?" I asked as I held his hand.

He beamed brightly and showed me his teeth. One of his front teeth had fallen out. "Look, I'm a big boy now." He pointed excitedly at his mouth.

"Wow!"

"My mommy said that if I put my tooth under my pillow the tooth fairy will come and she will take it and leave me a dollar! A whole dollar!"

"Well let's not encourage selling our body parts. Here." I reached into my back pocket and took out my change from earlier. "Here's five bucks, give your tooth to your dad."

He nodded and looked at me like I was crazy. "Thank you auntie Lessia!" He hugged me again before running back to Leo and the trampoline.

I stood up and headed over to my mother. As I approached the fence I saw she was talking to a woman I had never seen before. Where's Cheryl? I wondered.

"Oh Alessia, darling. Come meet our new neighbours." My mother wrapped her hand around my arm and practically yanked me over to the fence.

"Hi." I waved politely to the kind woman staring back at me with a warm smile.

"Hello there, Alessia. My name's Lisa. You're mother ya spoken so highly of you, it's so nice to put a face to the name." She said sweetly.

"It's nice to meet you too. Are you new to the area?" I inquired, wondering where our old neighbours had got too.

"Oh gosh no. We moved a few blocks away as my mother passed recently and she left us the house."

"Cheryl? Oh god I'm so sorry. She was the nicest woman, salt of the earth. I'm sorry for your loss." I felt real sadness as I spoke, not believing that sweet old Cheryl had passed on.

"You knew my grandmother?" A deep male voice said from my left. I looked in the direction of the person speaking and nearly had to do a double take. Standing beside Lisa was a very handsome brunette man with striking blue eyes and full beard. He was about 6 foot tall, with muscles and wide shoulders. He was wearing a deep maroon tight long sleeve and navy patriots cap.

"Hi." I breathed out, staring at this specimen in disbelief. How can one person be so unbelievably attractive? "Yes I did. Uh, I grew up doing chores for her. I kept her company on Wednesday's when Arthur would be at darts. She taught me how to bake and knit." I giggled lightly at the memories.

The man gave me a soft smile while Lisa smiled at me. "I'm sure she loved every minute of your company." Lisa nodded at me. "She actually left me a box of things labelled with your name. I'll have to have Chris dig it out and bring it over to you sometime."

"That would be lovely, thank you." I smiled, wondering how I had missed so much.

I could feel her son's eyes on me as I stepped down from the gathering or grass to allow my mom to finish her conversation.

"Hey." My sister Lucy said as she wrapped her arms around me to give me a hug. "I've missed you sister sister."

"Missed you too." I mumbled into her shoulder as she crushed me. She pulled back and placed a hand on her stomach before putting her pinger finger to her lips.

"It's a secret." She whispered and I nodded with wide eyes. Shit. She's pregnant again.

"Congratulations!" I whisper yelled at her and she widened her eyes at me and looked back at my mom and grandmother to see if they noticed. They hadn't, they were busy gossiping with Lisa.

Chapter two

[bluebellhairpin]

Ghost Girl and The Face-Less Boy

 Slenderman X Fem!Reader

A/N: Wow. Sonfics seem to be my thing. Ouch. The song used was ‘Such Horrible Things’ by Creature Feature. Enjoy you crazy phycos! - Nemo

Summary: You were the town’s resident Horror Child, and rather proud of it. Your parents wanted you to be normal. Your siblings just wanted you to stop trying to kill them. Your neighbours wondered if you were the child of the devil instead of humans. Long story short; One day, your parents decided to finally send you to school. There you’re met with whispers, odd looks, and a group of bullies. Oh, and the strange face-less boy that those kids were bullying before they got to you.

WARNING: Mentions of gore and murder. Please don’t go around killing people. It’s not healthy for them, and it’s not good for you if you want to get a job or probably a dog either. 

Masterlist  

When you were about four or five, you’d already been dubbed the ‘horror child’ of your town. 

You’d pour glue in peoples hair, you stood at the end of hallways with a knife in hand, you’d trick your neighbour into running into the woods (three times this happened when it took the adults an excess of four hours to find her again), one time you even tried to set you house on fire (you hated the colour scheme anyway).

When you turned seven or eight, you had doubled your reputation.

You had pushed your younger sister down a well, and set your brother on fire. Your mother, being ever hopeful, bought you a drawing pad to try to get you to act more lady-like by learning how to sketch; you instead used the pad to draw up your schemes and to write up all your plans (Your mother saw it, and she told her friends that she couldn’t sleep for a solid week).

Once you reached the age of twelve, your parents decided to send you to a proper school.

They’d previously had you home-schooled in fear that your all-round horribleness would rub off on others - or get worse. But now they must’ve decided that it couldn’t get much worse than what it already was, so by that point in time, they’d basically given up trying to turn you into a ‘normal’ human; the decided to leave you as the devil spawn you seemed to be. 

You slightly dreaded going to school, even though you hardly felt a thing, at this point in time you were worried that no one would fear you as much as you wished them to.

When you arrived at the front gate, the old rusted thing swinging slightly on its hinges, it seemed a small if the whole school went dead silent. Your darkened (e/c) eyes narrowed as you tightened your grip on the straps of your book bag; the large town clock could be heard chiming from across the road, and your fellow students all held their beady gazes on you.

You wandered slowly straight from the gate towards the wooden doors of the school, never once moving your gaze from your intended location, effectively avoiding the hushed whispers and the strange looks from your new peers. But a yell from your right made you move your eyes lazily towards the commotion; the children in your way moved so you could see what was happening.

A group of four or five tall kids - maybe about fifteen years old - were pushing around another kid. But this in itself didn’t gain your attention; it was that the person that were bullying wasn’t really a person.

He (at least you guessed it was a boy since ‘it’ wore the usual clothes of a boy in the year 1906) had no facial features - no eyes, mouth or nose - he also had no hair, was as lanky, pale, and skinny as could humanly be possible.

You guessed he was a bit scary-looking to the other kids, and for that he seemed to be getting teased for it.

“Hey.” You said, not having to raise your voice since most of the school had gone silent just by seeing you. “What is this?” You asked, the group, now ignoring the boy and started paying attention to you, had also gone silent and most of them looked between you and the tallest of the group.

“What does it matter to you? Ghost girl.” The tall boy replied, stalking over to you, seeming to square you up as he leaned down to your height; an eruption of murmurs came from the large gathering of kids that had shown up to watch the bully try and pick a fight with the resident ‘Girl of Horrors’. 

“Don’t call me that.” You muttered, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath.

“Don’t call you what? Ghost girl?” The tall boy laughed, shoving you in your shoulder. “What’re you gonna do about it?” He shoved you again. You did nothing. “Call on your ancestors?” He pushed you over, you landed on your knees and scraped your palms in the process. “Set me on fire?” He hissed and kicked your leg. You glared up at him, a skill you’d learnt and learnt well over the past years, many quivered under your stare, but this boy seemed to not care. 

The face-less boy had now stood up straight so now you could see he was actually rather tall, and he had his head tilted in your direction; seemingly interested in what you were going to do.

“I’ll do nothing of the sort.” You started, standing and brushing off the white fabric of your dress, wiping a couple lines of crimson blood into the once-pure material. “In fact, I think you don’t deserve to be set on fire.” You said as a matter-of-factuality, staring into his eyes with noting but an odd look of wonder. “I could cut you open from the top of your throat to your navel instead. Take a peek at your insides.” You said softly, the boy looked at you in slight horror, but soon sneered at you.

“You’re nothing but a little girl! What could you possibly-”

“Or I could try impaling you from whatever side I can poke a stick into.” You cut him off, making sure to keep your voice soft and dull.  

The next thing you knew, a fist was flying at your face and your vision blurred to black as screams faded from your hearing. 

You woke, inhaling a deep breath, the smell of steriliser hitting your nose making you crinkle your eyebrows together. You opened your eyes and saw that you seemed to be in the school’s infirmary. 

You reached your hand up to your head, feeling a bandage right where the pain hurt most. You moved to sit up, two gangly hands grabbing a hold of your arm and back to help you. You looked over at your helper, seeing no other than the face-less boy from before.

“Who are you?” You asked, glancing up where his eyes would - should be.

“A ‘Thank You’ would be nice.” A disembodied voice echoed through your brain-hole, leaving you a little nauseous and with a minor headache.

“Yeah, but what for?” You said, peering up at him (also where you guessed the voice came from) and rolled your eyes.

“Look out the window.” The voice spoke again as he helped you stand to wander over to the barred-up window across the room. “I did not know I could do that before. When Jim hit you, it must of triggered something inside me.” The voice continued as you looked out the window to the yard below. The place was covered in sticky-looking black liquid, it looked like a tornado came around and blew the entire yard upside-down, there was even a couple patches of red here and there; blood, no doubt. “I’m sorry. I should not of gotten so... Upset.” 

“Did you kill anyone?” You asked, gently pushing away the thin fingers of the boy next to you.

“Um, no. I did not mean to do it, so of course not.” He replied, now fidgeting with his hands as he moved to stand in your line of sight. “Thank you. For helping me. No one has done that before.” He told you once you moved you gaze over to him.

“You’re weird-looking. And you talk funny. And you almost killed, what, five - six people just then.” You spoke slowly, watching the boy as he seemed to deflate with each word; surely worried that he’d lost his chance at gaining a friend. “What’s your name?” You finished, tilting your head at him as he perked up at your words.

“My-my name? I-It is Subject Tango Whisky Delta.” He said, stuttering in shock that you weren’t really worried about him. You smiled lightly, he was making you feel something you didn’t think you knew you could feel.

“Okay. Strange name. But okay.”

“However, My brothers call me Slender.” He quickly added once he felt you were finished speaking. 

“Well, I think this should come off, and then, how about we go for some pizza? Or candy?” You asked and began to take off your head bandage.

“Public places and I do not really mix.” Slender said, his ‘voice’ sounding a little softer as if he didn’t want to disappoint you. 

“That’s okay. I don’t really know anywhere that sells pizza anyway.” You stated, placing the bandage down on the bed. “We can just go back to my place and make some Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches.” You said, offering an alternative to the previous suggestion. “My name’s (y/n), by the way.” You said, realisation that you hadn’t introduced yourself yet.

“(y/n).” He tried, testing how your name sounded. “(y/n), can I - Could I call you my friend?” He asked. You simply nodded, not really knowing how to react to the question since you couldn’t really say you’d ever had a friend before. You grabbed your book bag - of which was placed neatly at the end of the bed - and started wandering towards the exit.

“You coming Slender?” You asked, turning and seeing him slightly unsure of whether to follow you. You guessed he got bullied a lot, which would make anyone scared to go out in public. You held out your hand to him, hoping that he’d take it so you could go and start making your sandwiches. “It’s okay. You wont be alone anymore.” You said softly and smiled gently at him. 

“Thank you (y/n).” He said once his long fingers curled around your own. 

You both started down the school hallway, turning heads again, but neither of you cared. 

You were the Ghost Girl and the Face-Less Boy.

Nothing could stop you now.

[ezatluba]

The tiger next door: America’s backyard big cats

There are more tigers in American gardens than there are left in the wild. Alex Hannaford meets the owners who live cheek by jowl with their pets, and also those ensuring the big cats are treated without cruelty

Alex Hannaford

10 Nov 2019

It was the sort of headline impossible to scroll past: “Pot Smokers Find Caged Tiger in Abandoned Houston House, Weren’t Hallucinating: Police.” Last February, a group of people had snuck into a deserted house in Texas’s largest city to smoke marijuana when they stumbled upon a full-grown tiger in a cage – a cage secured by just a nylon strap and a screwdriver. Sergeant Jason Alderete of Houston Police Department’s animal cruelty unit, later told a local TV station: “It wasn’t the effects of the drugs. There was an actual tiger!” The animal was given a name, Loki, and sent to an animal sanctuary in the country, run by the Humane Society of the United States. You’d be forgiven for thinking Loki’s experience was an isolated incident – it isn’t.

An oft-quoted statistic is that there are more tigers in American back yards than there are left in the wild. According to the US Fish & Wildlife Service, there are between 3,200 and 3,500 tigers remaining in the wild globally. By some estimates there are 5,000 in captivity in the US, though there might be more. The truth is we have little idea how many there are in American ranches, unlicensed zoos, apartments, truck stops and private breeding facilities, due to a mishmash of state, federal and county laws governing their ownership.

According to the World Wildlife Fund, only 6% of America’s captive tiger population lives in zoos and facilities accredited by the Association of Zoos & Aquariums; the rest are in private hands. Some are regulated by the US Department of Agriculture and others by state laws, but some are not regulated at all. “In some states, it is easier to buy a tiger than to adopt a dog from a local animal shelter,” says the WWF.

In Texas, which lets each of its 254 counties regulate the ownership of dangerous wild animals, it’s hard to accurately gauge how many there are. In a state that prides itself on promoting individual freedoms, like openly carrying AR-15 semi-automatic rifles or bringing concealed handguns on to university campuses, it’s perhaps not surprising that owning a tiger is considered (by some) to be a God-given right.

The deplorable conditions in which Loki was found illustrate the fact that these “rights” can come at a cost. He was discovered in a 5ft x 3ft cage in the dark garage of the abandoned home. The cage’s floor was made of plywood. It was three months before police arrested his owner, a 24-year-old woman named Brittany Garza, who was taken into custody and charged with animal cruelty. She responded that she was in the process of relocating and had not abandoned the animal, as it had food and water.

Katie Jarl, the Humane Society’s southwest regional director, says there have been numerous similar incidents. In 2016, police in Conroe, a town north of Houston, received reports of a tiger roaming a residential neighbourhoodafter it escaped from someone’s back yard. “No one knew about them,” she says. “They were completely off the map.”

These animals are extremely complex and powerful and can kill a human being with a swipe of their paw

In 2009, a 330lb tiger escaped from its enclosure in Ingram, Texas, and was found in a 79-year-old woman’s back yard. In 2007, a one-year-old tiger “wearing a makeshift lead” was found shot dead in a wooded area off the motorway in Dallas. In 2003, in another Dallas suburb, a motorist spotted a four-month-old tiger roaming the side of the road. In 2001, a three-year-old boy was killed by one of his relative’s three pet tigers in Lee County, Texas. And in 2000, animal control officers near Houston spent three hours searching for a tiger that had escaped from a garden cage while its owners were out of town. That same year, in Channelview, Texas, a three-year-old boy had his arm ripped off by his uncle’s 400lb pet.

As for Loki, Jarl says a law-enforcement source of hers outside the city had got in touch to say the authorities had known about Loki’s owner for a long time. “She had been raising cubs in her home for years,” Jarl says, “in a county where there were no restrictions.”

This year, two state legislators filed bills aimed at prohibiting the private ownership of “dangerous wild animals”. But this is Texas, where the private ownership of pretty much everything is sacrosanct, and neither bill became law. There was “passionate testimony” on both sides of the debate, says the assistant to one of the legislators involved.

According to one conservation charity, four states (Alabama, Nevada, North Carolina and Wisconsin) do not regulate the private ownership of exotic pets at all. Brittany Peet, director of Captive Animal Law Enforcement for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (Peta), says there are a “patchwork of laws” regulating the possession of big cats. “And you can usually get around those laws by applying for a United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) exhibitor’s licence,” she says. “It’s as simple as filling out an application and writing a cheque for $100. The regulations are very minimal – as long as you have a cage where the animal can fully stand up and turn around you shouldn’t have a problem getting a licence.

“Everyone should be terrified and shocked by this,” Peet adds. “These animals are extremely complex and powerful and can kill a human being with a swipe of their paw. People keeping tigers in back yards are not experts. They don’t know what they’re doing, and they’re not providing these animals with enrichment and stimulation that they need in order to live relatively normal lives in captivity.”

Bill Rathburn disagrees. He believes he provided the seven tigers that once lived on his private, 50-acre ranch 80 miles east of Dallas, with more than enough enrichment and stimulation. For more than two decades, Rathburn and his now ex-wife Lou raised the animals from cubs. For the Rathburns, the tigers were a surrogate family.

I interview Rathburn over the phone and later he sends me a photo of himself and Raja, the first tiger he and his wife bought. The pair are nose to nose inside its cage. “That was the relationship I had with him,” he says. “I’m not a reckless person and wouldn’t have gone into the cage with him if I hadn’t raised him, or knew I’d be safe doing it. He was the most loving animal from the day we got him to the day he died.”

Not everyone in the Rathburns’ neighbourhood shared their enthusiasm. “Tiger sanctuary has residents growling,” read one local headline.

Rathburn is a former deputy chief of the Los Angeles Police Department and chief of police of the Dallas Police Department. In 1996 he was director of security for the summer Olympic Games, in Atlanta. It was while he was there that Lou bought their first tiger. Rathburn admits to feeling “kind of overwhelmed” initially, thinking about all the work and expense that would inevitably go into raising it. But when he came home he says he “immediately fell in love”.

The following year the couple bought two more tiger cubs “from a guy who had tigers in the back yard of his house in Houston”. Rathburn and his wife raised the cubs in their house. They installed a heavy mesh screen door “so they couldn’t get out of the pantry and wander round the house at night”. Outside, they constructed a cage complex. “If you saw it,” he says, “you’d realise it was a pretty good life for a tiger: a 10,000sqft play area with grass, trees and bushes, so they could run, play, hide, and chew on grass to help their digestive system.”

Raja lived to be 21. “He was unsteady on his feet towards the end,” Rathburn says. “I knew it was time to put him down. The vet came round and agreed. I was crying like a baby. It broke my heart.” Their second animal developed a tumour on her spine. When she died, Lou insisted on having her skin made into a rug. “And after we got divorced I ended up with the rug,” Rathburn says. “I have it over a chest in my bedroom, and it’s wonderful way to remember her. I talk to her once in a while.”

Eventually, he says, a neighbour complained to county officials about what they described as a growing tiger problem next door. “He got county officials upset, and two votes can sway an election in a rural area. So the county commissioners weren’t willing to extend my permit.”

I’m not a reckless person and wouldn’t have gone into the cage with him if I hadn’t raised him, or knew I’d be safe

Rathburn believes in regulation. “There should be adequate confinement areas, [and regulation] protecting animals and protecting people who might be injured by them.” But, he says, he stands by the rights of individuals to own big cats.

While this might sound incredible to someone in the UK, Rathburn’s sense of entitlement – this rugged individualism that says the government shouldn’t interfere with an individual’s right to own pretty much whatever they want – runs deep in America.

Marcus Cook has owned and worked with big cats since the early 1990s. Back then he was working for a zoo in south Texas, and when the owners retired and closed their business Cook adopted a couple of black leopards. “Anyone who says they can tame one is unrealistic,” he tells me by phone one morning from his home in Kaufman, Texas. “But they’re handleable.”

Cook says he’s owned everything “from small cats, like cougars, to lions, tigers, leopards and jaguars. The big guys.” He says his own firm, Zoocats, began as a hobby in 1995 and grew from there. He began to take the animals on the road around the US – to schools and fairs and temporary exhibits. Cook says it was all about education – “creating an entertaining wow factor” – but his critics say he was ruthlessly exploiting the animals for gain. He has been accused of numerous animal welfare violations, subjected to various complaints, and issued citations over the years.

Loki, the tiger rescued from the Houston garage, was taken to a vast ranch in Murchison, Texas, run by the Humane Society. Murchison, population 594, is a rural farming community 70 miles southeast of Dallas. The Cleveland Amory Black Beauty Ranch is situated discreetly, a few miles outside town, next to a remote country lane. You can see horses and cattle grazing in fields next to the road, but none of the exotic animals that also live here.

We feed him 8lb of food a day – humanely raised beef, turkey, large rats and rabbits

Noelle Almrud, ranch director, meets me at the main office and we climb into a truck to drive to the enclosures at the back of the ranch that house its two tigers. It’s not unlike a wildlife park, although there are no gawking tourists here and the enclosures are bigger. Loki lives in a quarter-acre fenced area, but he rotates each week from this into a three-acre enclosure next door. Both have an abundance of willows and oaks to provide shade.

As we walk towards the fence, Loki gallops over and makes a breathy snort that Almrud says is known as “chuffing” and signals affection. He rubs himself against the wire enclosure before running back to his water trough and jumping in. “He’s acclimated really well,” she tells me. “We feed him 8lb of food a day – humanely raised beef, turkey, large rats, or rabbits and supplements – six days a week, then he has a day of fasting, as he would in the wild.”

Two years ago, Almrud helped found the Big Cat Sanctuary Alliance, a network of reputable big cat sanctuaries whose mission was to strengthen the regulation of big cats in the US and get conservation facilities to work together to place rescue animals. But they face a big challenge, she explains: “Roadside zoos need shutting down, but where do you put all the animals? You couldn’t re-house all the tigers currently in roadside zoos in America. We need more money and more facilities. In a perfect world,” she says, “I’d like to be put out of business.”

Judging by the Texan appetite for big cats, that won’t be happening anytime soon.

[blahblahblippyblah]

The Adventures of Blitz and Hearth (before TSOS)

Chapter 6: Welcome to Alfheim Summary: Hearth and Blitz make it to Alfheim to retrieve Hearth's rune stones so he can learn magic before beginning jobs for Mimir. Inge helps them. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11389974/chapters/26374206 ******** Hearth felt his feet gently touch down on a soft surface. His body instantly felt lighter. His eyes burnt as he looked up into the blindingly bright sky. They were in Alfheim now, no mistaking that. It smelled like fresh cut grass and warm air. It took Hearth a second to figure out where they were. Being away from Alfheim for so long it took his eyes awhiel to adjust. It probably didn't help he spent all that time in the dark world of the dwarves. He blinked and the world came into focus. They were standing on the sidewalk of a large neighbourhood. Large white alfheim mansions stood gleaming behind well manicured lawns. In one yard behind a large gated fence a marble fountain sprayed water. This neighbour hood was very fimilar. Hearth looked down and across the roads and began to tremble in stress. Large wrought iron gates inscribed with a giant ornate 'A'. He looked down to see Blitzen pulling on sunglasses under his pith helmet. The sun must be too much for a creature that spent it's whole life underground. Worried about his friend in the sun Hearth pulled off his jacket again and threw it over Blitz's head. He made sure it wasn't over his face so that Blitz could still see. "Are you Ok?" He signed. His hands were trembling as he signed the words. "In fine. It's so bright here. I don't think my pith helmet will work long. I'm starting to feel like eyes are pieces of concrete" Blitz signed back with gloved hands that were hard to read. Hearth bent down sliglhy to look at Blitzen through the netting better. His dark caramel skin appeared to be turning more grey in colour as Blitz stood in the sun. Hearth pursed his lips . He needed to get Blitz out of the sun. Which was easier said than done. There was no such thing as shade in Alfheim. Even the houses where all made with large window to keep the sun shining through. The only place he knew of nearby with no sunlight or windows was not a place he planned on going back to. Yet Hearth was beginning to panic. Was wasn't about to watch his only friend turn to stone beucase he ran away without preparation. He saw Blitz smile at him from under his protective netting. Hearth thought this odd as he felt Blitz should be just as freaked out as him about beginning to petrify. "What?" Hearth signed. Blitz pulled down is balaclava down so he could speak. "Nothing just your eyes look different in the alfheim light. Kinda like crystals. But reflective like mirrors. It's kinda beautiful" Blitz said as Hearth read his lips through the netting. Hoping he wasn't blushing he stood back and signed. "Your are turning to stone. Need to get you somewhere dark. Follow me" Hearth started walking down the sidewalk. His knees were shaking and he was pretty sure it wasnt from the recent exhaustion of using rune magic. They approached the giant gates. The security cameras turned to survey them. Hearth stopped in his tracks. He couldn't move. His body started trembling. He felt like his knees would give out as the fear washed over him. What would his father do to him if he came back? He felt a hand touch his arm and turned to see Blitz signing to him. "Are you Ok?" Hearth nodded weakly. He took another deep breath. He mustered all his courage and slowly approached the gate. His body still trembling. He looked up at the security camera right in front of the gate. Making sure whoever was watching could see it was him. After a few seconds the gates slowly creaked open. He looked back at Blitz who began to sign another question. " How did you...?" Hearth raised his hands to cut him off. "Explain later. Need to get you inside. Come on." Honestly Hearth was hoping they would be able to sneak in to his father's forest from behind so that they could retrieve his runes and not face his parents, but now looking around the high walked fortification he might have underestimated how easy that would have been. Plus Blitz couldn't stay in the sun much longer. He was already beginning to worry about his friend as he was now limping odly as his legs stiffened. Hearth put his arm under Blitz's and helped him hobble up the long drive towards the looming mansion. He wondered what Blitz was thinking as the approached the building. Hearth hadn't told Blitz much about his family. He had also spared Blitz the more upsetting and difficult details about his upbringing. Now Blitz was probably going to witness them first hand before Hearth could explain them to his friend. As they approached the entrance way Hearth saw the giant double iron doors open slightly. Hearth stopped in his tracks and began shaking again. He almost made a sigh of relief when he realised it wasn't his father coming outside. Instead slipping out the doors was a short pretty hulder named Inge. She were her maid uniform and her curly golden blonde hair fell down her back in a waterfall. Her rosy cheeks flushed darker as Hearth saw her cry out. "Hearthstone! My gods what are you doing here?!" Her hands moved in perfect signs as she jogged towards them. Hearth was delighted to see Inge. Inge's mother had been the one to teach Hearthstone to sign because his father would hurt him when he struggled to speak. Learning to sign had saved his life. For once he could finally communicate with someone. Soon his brother and Inge had learned so he could talk to them too. Even his parents had picked some signing up out ofspite of being tired of not understanding their son. Although they told him off when he did sign. Seeing Inge made him feel better. She had been the one person who didn't lean away from him for fear of associating with a deaf elf. She learned to sign so she could talk to him. She was the only person who tried to help him when he lived here, even though she was forbidden to help him with his wergild. She was his only friend after his brother died. She had a heart of pure gold. When she reached them she stopped and looked around rapidly. Seeing no one watching she pulled Hearth into a big strong hug. Hearth gently hugged her back. She smelled of fresh laundry. After a few seconds of hugging Inge pulled away. She raised her hands and signed. "What are you doing here?" She signed. "Complicated. Explain later. Where is my father? I need to get my friend inside." Hearth signed gesturing to Blitz under the layers of his jacket, the pith helmet and the balaclava. "Your father and mother aren't home right now. They left for an event yesterday... But , well we've been giving orders to contact him immediately if there's any sign of you returning." Inge signed. "If any of the other servants see you your father will be on his way back home." "Is there any way to get in unseen. We need in now. My friend is a dwarf. He can't last much longer in sun." Hearth signed starting to feel desperate. The fact his father wasn't home was good news. But the thought of him racing home when he found out his most hated person, his son, was back after running away terrified him. Inge looked around frantically again. She seemed unsure and on edge. She wringed her hands uncomfortably. "I can get you to your room. Just follow me closely." She signed. She turned and Hearth helped Blitz follow her. The got up the stairs and Inge held out her hands before she went back inside. "Stay here. I'll make sure the coast is clear".  Inge slipped through the door. Wincing as she pulled it open by the iron handles. After a few minutes Inge's face appeared in the crack door and ushered them in. They entered the brightly lite entrance way. The three of them hurried across the white marble floor towards the stairs. They practically ran up the stairs. Once upstairs Inge led them down the hall to a small simple iron door. She pulled out a large iron key to unlock the door. She winced as the iron burned her palm. Seeing her in pain angered Hearth. He felt himself flushing with hatred towards his father. He reached out and took the key from her. She pulled her hand away at his touch, which Hearth thought was strange but it wasn't unusual for Inge. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. He pushed Blitz into the room first and him and Inge followed. The large white room was painfully lit with blue tinged fluorescence. His matress laid on the floor in the corner covered only with a white bed sheet. The whiteboards still looked in him down displaying the prices of his wergild along with sentiments his parents enjoyed constantly repeating to him. 'Strive for normalcy', 'Never forget your duty to your family', 'Incompetence and disappointment are unacceptable'. The blue expanse of fur lay at their feet. A small island of coins glittered in the middle. Hearth turned and closed the door before Inge did and hurt herself. He turned back to her and signed. "Thank you." He then turned back to Blitz who was now removing his protective gear. Blitz looked around the room. He looked like he was swallowing a frog. His eye were knit in what Hearth thought looked like disgust and anger. Blitz eventually turned and faced Hearth. He raised his hands like he wanted to sign something but his hands failed. Hearth didn't know what to say either. Being in this room made him numb. He had learned early on living here to not show any weakness. Weakness was something that could be used against you. They all stood in silence for awhiel. Well Hearth always sat in silence. After a few minutes Inge broke it. "Hearthstone what are you doing here?" She signed spelling out his whole name. Hearth looked at her dejectedly. He didn't know what to say. He looked at Blitz who was watching the conversation. He also looked lost for words. Hearth breathed in deep. Inge deserved an explanation. But first he should probably introduce Blitzen. "Inge". He spelled out her name for Blitz to see. "This is Blitzen son of Freya. He's a swavtzelf. He's also my friend. He saved my life." Inge looked over at Blitz who waved awkwardly and said 'Hi' outloud. Inge kept her shocked confused expression and signed only one word. " How?" "When I ran away I used rune magic. First time I ever tried it. Tried to go to Midgard to escape. Fell into Nidavellir. I Almost died. Blitz saved me by making me a (he signed out Sun and then Casket since he didn't know what to call Blitz's invention)." Inge's face fell into a frown. She signed "Im so sorry Hearthstone". Hearth looked at her confused. "Why are you sorry? Wasn't your fault." She curled her hands unsure and then signed. "I didn't help. All those years I watched you go through all this." She gestured to everything in the room. "I never did anything to try and stop it or help you." Hearth shook his head and cut her off. "Inge you are the only reason I am still standing. You learned to sign. You took care of me even when my father forbid it. You were my only friend." Hearth paused. His mind wandered as he thought of what to say next. He remembered the first time Inge had risked herself to help him when he was 13. For punishment for embarrassing his mother in front of one of her friends by signing Hearth had been banned from any food for 3 days. By the night of the 2nd day he was already curled up on his bed doing his best at keeping himself from crying from hunger. He barely got any food as it was. Only being able to afford one meal a day. Inge had snuck into his room with a loaf of bread and some apple juice even after all the servants had been forbidden from feeding or even seeing him. She sat with him as he scarfed down the food and told him to hang in there. Always signing for him. An act of defiance against his father to make him feel like he wasn't a damaged child for not being able to speak. He then remembered the day he ran away. He had spent all day outside in the heat doing yard chores. He had personally lifted and lugged a pallet of heavy stones from the gate to the back of the forest. His last take of the day was to lug the large stone sculpture up the property as well. But after a day of lugging the heavy stones his arms and legs ached and wobbled. He was drenched in sweat and was going lightheaded from the heat. He couldn't lift it so he decided to push it on a rickety cart. Unfortunately halfway up the hill it fell off and the cart broke. The sculpture was damaged. When Hearth's father found out he lost it. Apparently it was a expansive piece of art and Hearth had disappointed him enough for a life time. Hearth's father had made him pay. His father had never hit him before. It was improper of an elf to hit his son even if his son was a deaf disgrace. Yet Hearth's father seemed at the end of his rope dealing with his son. Hearth was a man now and his consequences needed to match. That night while he lay on his bed crying, for the first time in close to 7 years, Inge snuck in. She had brought him some water and a pack off ice for the bruises now forming. She told him to hang on and stay brave. She told him she was sorry and that he didn't deserve this life. Her words gave him hope and the nerve to go through with a plan he had been keeping in his thought for the past 3 years. When she left Hearth had snuck out of his room/isolation chamber. He made his way to the forest. He trudged to the carrin where his brother had died. He found the old set of rune stones he had played with as a child. He picked up a few and found the one he was looking for. Perthro. He held it tight and prayed to the gods. He put his fate in their hands. Then he fell into darkness. Hearth stepped back to the present. He looked Inge in the eyes. "You gave me hope. You gave me the courage to leave. Because of you I am free of this life. I have started over again." He reached out his hands and placed them over her trembling ones. Trying to convey his gratitude. "Did you say you did rune magic?" Inge signed after she pulled her hand away after a few seconds. She looked more confused and inquisitive now. Hearth nodded. "After all everything that has happened here I have found a way to fill my life. I have decided to learn magic and become a wizard. Blitz and I seeked out Mimir. He said I will become a powerful wizard. I will be the only mortal rune lord in the 9 worlds. That is why we are here. I need to get to the forest. I need to retrieve my rune stones. Then we will leave." Inge looked upset at the last bit but nodded. "Your father won't be back for a few days. But you should stay here tonight and rest. You both look exhausted. It would be dangerous to you to the forest like this now. I will go and get you both food and blankets" she signed. Her face was frowning with concern. She slipped out of the room. She closed the door carefully behind herself most likely to keep the noise down so no one came to see what was going on. Hearth turned to see Blitz looking up at him. Blitz looked shocked and sad. He appeared to want to say something but he didn't, instead they locked eyes. Hearth felt an unspoken understanding pass between them. Everything Hearth had experienced in this house seemed to pass into understanding to Blitz. Hearth felt his pain from all of it pass through both if them. Maybe it he was accidently sharing these feeling by magic.  Hearth had learned early to never share your feeling and weaknesses. Always be the blank slate. But with Blitz he didn't feel like he had to hide. Sharing with Blitz didn't make him feel vulnerable. It was weird but Blitz was now like an anchor in his sea of darkness. Hearth pointed to the rug that was the blue monster. "When I was 8 my brother was killed. We were playing in the forest. We found a well. Andrion loved the well. He thought it granted wishes. He always wanted to play there. One day that B R U N N M I G I, from another world came out of the well. I was playing with some rune stones we had found in the forest. I couldn't hear him cry for help. When I finally saw I ran for help but my parents couldn't understand me. It was too late and Andrion died... My parents made me pay for killing my brother. I had to pay my wergild." Hearth signed and then gestured to the rug again. The coins in the vadt sea of blue looked so pitiful. _ years of work for that. "Cover the rug. Earn gold by following the rules." Hearth now pointed to the boards around the room. He felt his eyes begin to water. He lowered is head feeling shamed. He tried to hide the tears from Blitz but it didn't work. Blitz stepped forward and pulled him into a bear hug. Hearth collapsed into him falling to his knees. This was all too much. He didn't want to be here. He was terrified. He felt as small and insignificant as an ant. Terrible memories kept coming back. He buried his head into Blitz's shoulder. He gasp for breath and felt his tears stain Blitzs wool coat. Blitz held him tighter. He didn't want Blitz to let go. He felt that if Blitz let go he would fall back in to his old life. Only Blitz's arms kept up from falling back into that fate. His anchor. Blitz patted his back. Hearth felt his chest vibrate as if Blitz was taking but Hearth couldn't hear. After what seemed like hours Hearth pulled away. He wiped the last of his tears on his sleeve and signed. "I'm sorry" "Hey buddy don't be sorry. We'll get you out of here as soon as possible. I promise Ok. I'm here for you." Blitz signed as he put on a weak smile for him. Hearth attempted to return the smile and signed. "Thank you friend." They both walked over to the small mattress on the floor in the corner and sat down. Hearth felt exhausted. And by the way Blitz looked he felt the same. Now they were out of the sun the warm colour began to come back to Blitz's face. His limbs moved less rigidly. Soon Inge carefully slipped back in. She was balancing a pile of blankets and pillows and a plate of sandwiches. Blitz and Hearth both jumped up to help her. When they laid the stuff down Inge turned and signed. "This is alI could manage to take without getting caught. Sorry." "That is more than enough. Thank you Inge" Hearth signed to her. She blushed a small bit. "Yes, thank you Inge. This means so much" Blitz said out loud to her. Inge smiled lightly at Blitz. All three of them sat on the ground. Hearth and Blitz began munching on the sandwiches. "So your really a dwarf?" Hearth saw Inge ask Blitz. "Ya. Well swavtzelf. Alot of dwarves are descendants of Freya. We have some Vanir blood so we are quite a bit taller. Plus a little more good looking." Blitz said putting in a humours grin at the end. "Hearth said you were a son a Freya? Does that mean your a descendant or are you really her son?" Inge asked. Blitz pursed his lips and his face grew dark. "Unfortunately for me, yes. Freya's my mom." "Is that a bad thing?" Inge asked. " I mean here in Alfheim the gods haven't been seen or heard from in centuries. Most people don't even believe they existed. Wouldn't being the son of Freya be a good thing?" Inge asked shyly. Blitz began to smush his sandwich in his fist unknowlingly. "Its not such a big thing in Niddavellir. Plus you've never met my mother." He said with his head bent down. Inge looked somewhat sad and confused, but didn't keep on the subject. Once they had finished the sandwhiches Inge got up to leave. She gave Hearth one more last brief hug and and signed. "I assuming this will be the last time I see you. Please be safe. I'll miss you Hearth." Hearth felt his heart ache a little more. He would miss Inge too. He would get out of here and never return. Inge however couldn't. He felt bad that he was abandoning her. He raised his hands and signed. "Dont worry about me. I have a dwarf to watch after me now. Take care of yourself. Please. I wish I could take you with us. I hate that you are still here with him. Please be safe Inge." She nidded and he pulled her into another hug. After they broke the hug she slipped out if the room. Hearth turned and went to collapse in his old bed. His feet hung off the end and a spring stabbed him in the stomache. The sheets were stiff and scratchy. Blitz threw him a pillow and blanket. He then laid a blanket on the floor. Hearth instantly felt terrible. He was so exhausted he hadn't thought about where Blitz would sleep. He sat up and signed at Blitz to take the bed instead of him. Blitz shook his head. "You look way more exhausted than me. Plus I didn't do magic today. You should sleep on the mattress." Hearth knit his eyebrows. It was not acceptable that Blitz sleep on the ground. "Share" he signed to Blitz moving over on the mattress. " You sure?" Blitz asked. Hearth nodded. Blitz got up and laid down beside him. It was a tight fit but the both managed to fall asleep back to back.

[xottzot]

2018-09(AUG)-08th--August--Wednesday----more strange goings on at this hellhole area---

2018-09(AUG)-08th--August--Wednesday----more strange goings on at this hellhole area---

I got woken up by sirens...(2-3 ambulance? or Police sirens). Has there been ANOTHER terrible lethal vehicle(s) smash? - And they sped by close, down the end of the road.

Poor Max has become VERY upset again because of strange goings on at this place and hellhole. Poor Sam has become distressed. And because Sam became distressed, poor MAX became even MORE upset, and hearing THAT poor Sam became even more distressed....endless feedback loop.

NOT saying any more about that, nobody fucking believes me anyway especially about the strange goings on...such as below....

The side gate was open. SOMEBODY had been and opened the side gate.....and left it completely open. - IT WAS NOT LEFT OPEN BY ME.

I had tended to my own ablutions and then afterwards before letting them out after I just fed them and had done the washing up of their food bowls. THEN I had let poor Sam and poor Max outside. HOWEVER.....without me seeing, poor Max escaped into the front yard after I had let poor Sam and poor Max outside for ablutions in the fenced backyard after they had eaten.

After I washed my hands, I went outside and poor Sam was refusing to come inside despite me calling him and it looked like it was about to pour down with rain AGAIN. 4 times I called Sam to come inside as I stood there standing there just outside the back door on the ground. I was dressed in case I needed to clean up their ablutions. And it wasn't cold outside or raining.

But poor Sam just stood there and kept looking at the (unknown to me and being unable by me to seen) open side gate and then back to me then back to the side gate. This went on many times. Eventually I calmly walked down and went to see what the hell was going on and horribly discovered the side gate was mysteriously open and that poor Max had escaped into the front yard.

I went out there and found poor Max sniffing around the front yard, investigating strange scents on the ground. His dog hair on his back was UP. He was upset.

I gently called him to come & return and for us to go inside. He did so but was upset at being called back and he started growling. I didn't chastise him in any way or anything. But he was greatly agitated. Then I put poor Sam and poor Max inside. Poor Max was growling A LOT and upset.

I cleaned up some ablutions in the backyard and went out the front to check to see what the hell had been going on out there with poor Max. - I couldn't find out what had been going on. And so once AGAIN....I went through the gate and locked it AGAIN.

We're inside and everything is calm but they are both tense.

NOW AT 9:39am.......that mad old guy next to the maddies house, his house alarm has suddenly and LOUDLY gone off. It went off for around 15 seconds...... a record of little time for him since he usually has it going on for AGES........all ths shit by that mad old guy is all starting again.......

I'M NEVER EVER ALLOWED TO SLEEP. Hence I am forced to do essential things and essential domestic tasks early in the morning. -- This old bastard manually triggers-off his alarm. EVERYONE has heard all this going on so MANY TIMES BEFORE FOR MANY MONTHS....AND YEARS NOW by that mad old bastard.....

I have never upset or atangonised that old bastard in any way but he is somebody who hates EVERYONE and EVERYTHING and has become so much worse. In the past he's had aboriginal adults but also aboriginal children on their own in his yard and in his house, and he's made them do yard work in his place as well, which he would 'reward them' with food trinkets such as noodles which they would carry off clutching them as if they had won lotto.

But all that seems to have stopped for now......

But his crazy behaviours still goes on. And it sometimes includes roaming the streets very early in the mornings and then returning to his home. Where he often stations himself by one side of his closed gate tied up with wire and stares at EVERYTHING that's going on, especially ANY and EVERYTHING any neighbours are doing no matter how innocent or innocuous. If anything else goes on, he tries to involve himself as much as he can by going to it and trying to overhear any everything he can under the guise of just 'walking about'.

I still haven't made up my mind on this old guy.

Whether he is just a poor old man, 'alone' and upset, or whether he is as I & dear Fliss before she left AND so many neighbours have seen, he has always been deranged and complicit and VERY much a part of being with the criminal aboriginals though it seemed he was also kept outside their 'criminal family circles' and THEY hated him too.....but they STILL used him...and they STILL abused him...and they did criminal damages to his home...and his home has been a magnet for them in that part of the street very closeby......

And he STILL peers at people going to the shops area especially from peering through gaps in his fence where he hurls abuse from without being seen, or from inside his house.......but I don't now how frequently he does that now since I have long since bothered to acknowlege his existance for my own sanity in this fucking hellhole area of criminals......

I HAVE tried to be polite and neighbourly to this mad old guy. But he mutters and curses in a low voice a LOT, which is something else others have experinced at this hellhole area.......or he'll yell out LOUDLY and swear unintelligble words andor phrases...... - All this has been going on for MANY years......

I have been a victim (as has been many others) yelled out by him just for going to or fro from the corner shops.

But he remains silent when male aboriginals wander past on the paths or streets, and will often temporarily retreat into his house until they go past....

And then of course are his rabid, sudden loud bangs with his fist against the tin of his front fence that he hides behind to be unseen......THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR MANY YEARS. - It is a rare day indeed when he does NOT do that at all.

Sometimes he returns from elsewhere via a taxi. No longer does it seem that he drives his old open flatbed truck. Much of the times the taxi pulls into his front yard because his ALWAYS closed front gate is mysteriously now open BEFORE he comes home. - EVERYONE ELSES front gates are all closed securely to try to keep out the roaming criminals, many of them aboriginal criminals.

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But once AGAIN, there's a 'cycle' going on in this hellhole area.....

The two other aboriginal criminal households are empty or greatly diminished in criminal numbers and the VERY VERY criminal aboriginal feral children are STILL absent, as well as the feral aboriginal toddlers in diapers who have become older and are just more major-criminals-in-training elsewhere it seems....again things that have been going on at this hellhole area for MANY MANY YEARS.....because they all will return soon enough......and be rampant on the streets....to replace all the other VERY criminal aboriginal kids who have mysterioulsy vanished over the past several weeks (in jails?)......which make innocent people fall into false senses of security of normality being established in this hellhole area.....

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I saw black crows flying about yesterday.

And they're significant because at this hellhole area they feast on garbage in the streets and elsewhere, much of it by the filthy aboriginals and filthy ferals who strew garbage all over the streets and leave in their own yards, and the filth the crows gather up in their beaks they often drop in-flight into innocents yards as they fly overhead low and also wind their way low near buldings below house roof heights.

THAT filth for YEARS AND YEARS spreads disease and illness for humans and pets behind fences and closed gates.

And the aboriginals places scattered about are very much a big part of all that which the feral crows ferret through and from.........

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BTW, the old guy who yells and bangs his fence and everything....he feeds the birds and 28's in his front yard....and I suspect he thinks himself wonderful and superior and unique. - But dear Fliss and I FOR MANY YEARS (at our own cost) fed COUNTLESS natural wildlife birds including the 28's from our backyard, which they greatly relied upon to bring up their young ones too.

The same birds that later the criminal feral aboriginals and aboriginal criminal kids would openly kill without cause and leave the bodies all over the place. ALL THAT greatly affected how Fliss and I had treated and engendered docility and calm and friendly into the poor birds they were about this hellhole area. The birds stopped conming to us for feed. - AND.....there was the plagues of feral cats (belonging to the aboriginals) roaming all about this hellhole who also killed any and all birds they could as well as injure them and leave them to struggle through life with terrible injuries.......and if the shitheads cats didn't injure andor kill them, then it was the plagues of the aboriginals feral dogs that freely roamed the streets and terrorised pets and people alike. (the dogs have since been controlled by authorities, taken away to whatever terrible fates the shitty criminal aboriginals lead and left them to).......that has lead to false calm on the streets from those dogs.....

Those dogs also used to terrorise poor Sam and poor Max.

TERRIBLY TO ME....NOBODY BELIEVES ME ABOUT ALL THE SHIT THAT WAS GOING ON THEN FOR MANY MANY MANY YEARS, AND NOW THINGS HAVE CHANGED, THEY STILL DON'T BELEIVE ME THAT IT WAS EVER LIKE THAT.....This is when people get deceived into buying into this area to live.......and it will ALL CONTINUE AGAIN.....the feral criminals, feral children, feral adults, the old shouting guy, the cars tearing about the streets, Police chases, Police sirens (there was some this morning, or it was amublances), the roaming criminals you do NOT want to ever meet on the streets or footpaths but who wantonly criminally invade your property or your home or who congerate around the shops area of which a booze shop also is......and then there's your mail that goes missing andor is stolen all right out of your letterboxes (I've had that just recently too AGAIN, AGAIN)......

And then they also invade any houses under construction, not like inquisitive innocent children might, but as criminals and criminal thieves.

A house nearby has been demolished and a new one is being slowly built. - It will be a magnet for criminals for awhile. And thereafter whomever lives there will experience all the criminal shit for themselves. Every now and again I might casually visit areas about this hellhole, and that area like so many, has sprouted high fences to try to keep criminals out as they roam about in daylight and in darkness.......but little do they know that the criminals scale fences after invading OTHER peoples yards and over fences...so having a high front fence is no deterrent to the criminals.....

Once AGAIN, the population of his hellhole area seems to have lost all its young children as so many people have moved away sick and tired after being victims for so long, and so then shitheads and criminals take over AGAIN, take over the vacated houses by hook or by crook, and so expand the criminal ghettos.

And soon enough OTHER crops of criminal kids are produced by criminals to continue all the shit that has gone on before.....

THIS HELLHOLE IS NOT LIKE OTHER NORMAL PLACES. - And people and authorities still can't figure out why.....and they don't want anyone know crime exists, and especially any real-estate companies.....

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In the late morning, before noon, it was cold and lightly drizzling rain but there was voices in the street outside. And of COURSE it was shitty aboriginals wandering the streets.

A trio of them was standing in the middle of the street and louldy talking to each other. One adult male had a can (of booze?) in his hand and was drinking from it and wore a light jacket with a hood over his head, a young aboriginal female was with him.....

And (I kid you not), she was crazily wearing a light cloth hood over her head and a piece of cloth stiched to the hood to cover the back of her neck. NOT a rain jacket was worn by either of them. And they talked to a smaller (male?) aboriginal in the middle of the street before parting. The smaller male one walked through the criminals pedestrian walkway where they had come out from, and the duo kept walking on the road. -- An innocent car came along the road from the shops direction and had to sudenly veer away from hitting them or else they WOULD have been run them over because they didn't care, then it drove away. - Meanwhile the duo kept slowly walking along, the male kept slurping his drink of ?, and they slowed right down, almost stopping, outside the criminal aboriginal households and waved to somebody, before walking onwards and leaving the general area. They were closely actively looking ALL ABOUT the houses as they walked along, scoping things out. -- And I thought all this shit was stopped by Police and authorities weeks ago..... - I expect more crime to occur, because it always does at this hellhole by the same ones and the same types and their brethern.....and their criminal offspring........

It's traditional.

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I would dearly love to leave this place forever but it seems as if I can't. But when I WILL leave when able to, I WILL very gladly leave this hellhole and forever have stories of how a good place went to hell and was kept in hell and which dear Fliss abandoned me here in hell and left dear Sam and dear Max in hell........a hell that destroys people and makes innocents suffer and rewards the guilty.......

P.S., one of the departmental 'walkers' was about recently (yesterday?), but I haven't bothered to see them about today. They are the ones who walk and very slowly travel about on the streets whilst holding handheld devices in their hands. And the usual one who chainsmokes and pauses about the criminal housholds and drops the cigarette butts on the ground (which is eagerly snatched up later by roaming criminal aboriginals to scavenge and disgustingly use), that 'walker' stopped by Fatguts criminal aboriginal place and also INTO the frontyard via the driveway there to look at what was going on in the house there next door which seems to have been vacated (probably from trying to escape from living next door to the criminal aboriginals and all their shit), and there still is a car there in the front yard ......a car that used to be okay, but now is a total wreck after being constantly day & night being attacked by feral aboriginals, jumped upon, literally destroyed into a ruin and has been left to rot there.

Perhaps the house occupant(s) is/are away in hospital, and the criminals have yet again to be rampant......

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I love you dear Fliss and want to be with you just as you promised. I wish you would communicate with me.

P.S. MORE loud ambulance or Police sirens AGAIN close by AGAIN.......

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P.S. I WOULD have posted this entry up much earlier and timely but shitty Tumblr fucked me around and kept me in the dark and thought themselves cute for doing so.

[xottzot]

2017-4(APR)-13--Thursday--cockroach hotel.

2017-4(APR)-13--Thursday--cockroach hotel.

If at all you've been paying attention to what I've been writing what has become the hellhole here, then you should already know of the "cockroach hotel", that is, it is the aboriginal household where interminable people just come and go all the time at ANY time of the day or night under the guise of 'living there'.

Early-ish, this morning, an aborignal man was walking slowly on the footpath then went to walking along ON the roads, saw a cigarette butt on the road, eagerly picked it up for himself, continued walking, turned about, then walked into the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. Another stranger who doesn't 'live' there.

The aboriginal drug dealer literally across the road from there, used that tactic of having countless 'strangers' for many, many years. NOBODY had any idea of how many 'people' actually lived at the place. There was so many 'people' coming and going at all hours on any day and night, that even the Police didn't know how many were living there at any time. Even dear Fliss became annoyed at always being asked that by Police.

Police would always ask, "How man people are living there?", as a matter of their asking about the place but when you truthfully answered, "I have no idea. There are people coming and going there so much there is no way for anyone to know." - And then the Police would crazily start acting as if YOU were telling lies, and then YOU would be put on the spot and drilled. -- Great public relations. -- Even now, the same occurs.

Well that's what the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD is. They learned very well their lessons from the aboriginal drug dealer. They are in fact an offshoot of that place. The aboriginal drug dealer terrorised and droved out the innocent poor women with two very innocent small boys out of there, all three who previously lived there. And once she was gone, surprise, surprise, suprise, the rented house then becomes aboriginal, full of all the 'people' that were closely asociated with the aboriginal drug dealer, and I daresay it, drug addicts themselves, who could just walk across the road and buy their drugs at a discount or get them delivered door-to-door.

And like a ship without a rudder, when the aboriginal drug dealer was evicted in early 2015, (the place is STILL evicted and has a security fence around it to vainly try to stop aboriginals breaking back into it), but when the aboriginal drug dealer was evicted, innocent people breathed a sigh of relief and hoped life would get better.

It did not.

All throughout my blog you will have seen my telling of the shitheads of that 'spinoff' aboriginal place running rampant and causing crime, and making innocent peoples lives a misery.

By the way, there was a period of several months where I did NOT publicly show what the shit was going on, in the vain hope that foetid criinal hell would no longer be the air that I breath each day, but of course that was to no avail. Things got worse. and worse, and every day got worser.

It is a rare day indeed that goes by when 'something' doesn't occur and bring disquiet and upset here.

Today for instance.......

From the Koongamia shops area (of which there is a liquor store as well), there walked an aboriginal woman out who I've never seen before. Not that that in itself is now unusual. Aboriginals walking about on the streets has become almost totally de rigueur here for them, night and day at all hours rain, or sunshine.

She walked out alone. Carrying a bottle of milk or whatever.

And she eventually walked down to the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD and went inside.

Behind her at a great distance, was the young aboriginal kid who is always picking his nose, one of the many who NEVER EVER goes to school, (even though there is one across the road), and he usually constantly wanders about every day alone or with other aboriginals looking to get into peoples yards and steal stuff and break into peoples houses.......well he came along with a packet of potato chips or something like that in his hands that he clutched to himself as if it was gold.

He was as usual acting highly suspicious. He was walking VERY VERY slowly.

As he was pasing on the footpath, (which itself is great novelty for the aborignals because they almost always walk along ON the roads at any time of the day or night), he was walking VERY slowly along past an innocent neighbours fence, and was fixated at staring over the fence and looking all about the yard. He paused several times to stop and look, then slowly began walking again.

He saw that an innocent neighbour was watching him (and the aboriginal started moving more hurriedly but again would pause, and look about, becoming very self-concious at being watched), and he afterwards hurried into the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. But not before he had had a good look ovr the fence of that innocent neighbour at something.....another innocent neighbours water hose to thieve perhaps?

Sometime shortly later, there was LOUD yelling in the street again. It was the aboriginal woman from earlier, and she was standing on the street corner louldy yelling and LOULDY SWEARING the full length of the street towards the Koongamia shops. Amongst her unintellgble large amount of swearing and yelling, was, "Come back and STAY here."

She turned around and walked back into the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. Shortly afterwards, an older aboriginal youth walked along and went into the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD, followed by another at a distance.

And by the way, as I wrote this part at 10:42am, the overweight woman of the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD has been walking a toddler (wearing nothing but a diaper and barefoot along the road), and the woman was LOUDLY yelling out up along the road towards the shops area. -- An innocent large liquid-plaster truck passed her on the road and drove away from the area, then another large vehicle did likewise, but of course the aborginal woman did not care about anything but glance behind her at the aboriginal diaper-toddler carrying something in its hands on the road behind her. More LOUD yellings-out along the street signalled her passage.

Later.....there was 5 young aboriginal kids walking in a long stretched-out line along the road along Clayton Street heading towards Koongamia School. (school is NOT on today I believe) - So much for the woman louldy yelling out and swearing for the aboriginal kids to STAY. They never ever stay, they never follow rules, (even of normality) just as the aboriginal adults never do, but instead just wander about all over the place at ANY time of the day or night.

Police who do patrols in this hellhole often see aboriginals wandering about. On some rare ocasions the Police may enquire of them why they are out wandering (rememeber this wandering about occurs at any time of the day or any time of the night), and the aboriginals are well-versed in excuses and they prattle on and are soon away off again on their wandering way.

Police just come and breeze-thru the area, and of course they are always spotted, and they see nothing untowards. And just after they are gone, it's all back to bullshit again. Police go away thinking that 'all is well', that they they have maintained things so that nothing is exploding, and they are right....until something does. And then questions get asked, nobody can figure out anything, and it all is washed away.

(I have literally seen Police shaking their heads herabouts in being unable to comprehend what the hell is going on, and what is causing crimes. It gets curtly and too-briefly noted down in reports so that they can quickly get away from this hellhole.)

Long ago Police used to intervene when sightings of school-aged kids were seen wandering about. But they only do that for non-aboriginals now it seems. The aboriginals are almost invisible. And they prefer it that way.

So when any innocent neighbour tries to utilise oficial measures, Police, or authorities, they soon find out for themselves how utterly futile it is. They get assailed by Police moaning their displeasures at them, officials do the same, authorities do the same, and everyone you might talk to is always asking/demanding, "Well what do you want US to do about it!?" - As if you have a magical bullet. (and in many cases people are driven in desperation to that)

I wonder how the newest neighbours in their freshly built brand-new house are fairing? - Out on a street corner that drug-heads, shitheads and illegal motorbikes go past EVERY DAY, residing next to an empty boarded-up by security fenced aboriginal drug dealer house, and if they looked out their kitchen window today would have seen that line of listless aboriginal criminal kids roaming about on the road outside......all this on a calm, 'normal' day in this hellhole.......and I wonder if they are wondering.......

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Sam & Max have now been fed some 'lunch', and they are feeling rested and are laying down awaiting the next round of bullshit occuring in the streets that they will bark at and want to tear apart any shithead. Rest for them never comes, and they're suffering from that too.

I can NOT ever, NOT EVER, take them ever again for walks. I have not done so for well over 1 year now. They are too unruly and I cannot control them. They, just like myself, miss Fliss terribly and are in terrible despair. Poor Sam & Max suffer in many ways. They have nightmares and sleep badly, just as I do.

I try to make life worth living but it is not.

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Any time I think there is calm an peace, there is not. - And the weekend period is coming. And it's a longer weekend because of Easter. The criminals will be all out and about hunting for places to rob because people might have dared to 'go away' for the long weekend. Ergo, empty household, rob the place.

Other innocents stay at home and may have to endure, and they just might get to sample what has been known in this hellhole for so long.

Here is a little comparison......if you were to do some trimming of branches and put them out on your street verge for you to later take away in a short time, you would soon see them here getting dragged off by shitheads and spread out all over the roads, necessitating you having to walk all about to retrieve them and causing you physical grief.

But outside the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD there has been a large pile of branches put there by them, a pile so large that it covers their street verge, spills onto the road a little (preventing the many vehicles that park on the same verge), and all those branches have been there so long that they are absolutely dead dry and crispy and ready to go up in flames. - They don't care. They care about nothing and nobody. Not even themselves. They will no doubt try to get the local council to remove them.

You think I'm joking about them having the council remove them? - I'm not.

In the West Australian news relatively recently, in a country town there has been an open area of desolate land owned by the council. Aboriginals turned it into a foetid 'camping ground' for aboriginals. It was full of matresses thrown and dragged all about the area and used to sleep upon by aboriginals, and truly large masses of rubbish wafting around in the winds and other rubbish piles often foetid and stinking of human wastes.

The aboriginals DEMANDED that the council clean it all up. - The council REFUSED, stating that NOBODY is allowed to be camping or living in that area and those facts are well-known.

There was a massive impasse. The media became involved. More got to know of what was going on (or not going on). And then from out of teh blue there came an 'anonynous' offer to te council for them to clean it up and the 'anonymous' benefactor would pay for it.

I don't know what teh outcome of all that was because it soon diappeared from the news.

But one thing was very much apparent. It is the modus operandi of what passes for reality and 'normaility' now.

It's just like the feral aboriginals of the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD. They never paid rent........other innocent residents heartily sick of the criminals thought THAT may be salvation in the form that they would be evicted. But they were NOT evicted, And an 'anonymous' benefactor came along and paid for them their large rent money amounts long-owing, and on and on it went. With the end result is that there was no result. The criminals are still there. (in fact a car of the house rental company is there today, wishing they weren't)

And so I reckon it will occur with the country council trying to reclaim their land back for the enjoyment of everyone and not just drunken/drugged constantly prostrate and criminal goings on day and night. - If it IS cleaned-up, then the same lot will just move back and demand MORE amenities.

You think THAT is far-fetched? - The exact same thing happened here in Western Australia for MANY years. And the shire and councils and so on were FORCED to create amenities for itinerant aboriginals. The places (they called it a 'camp') moved from location to location.

And eventually it resided in a place next to a housing area in Middle Swan near a tributary of the Swan River that soon enough became well known to Police and authorities as a place of crime, criminals, and where they would go to to search for them when crime was being perpetrated all about on businesses and upon innocents.

That place soon enough became fenced and had secure locked gates to keep Police out. That was deliberate.

That place is STILL there I believe. Strill fenced off. Buildings and infrastructure. It had become a place and law unto itself. But it is empty and desolate and has been so for many years because of a much-publicised event and events which the media relished in but never asked the real questions.

There had been firm allegations of rampant crime and ongoing child-abuse, just as there is at so many aboriginal enclaves, but all access to Police were not only hindered but actually physically stopped by the entire area fenced and padlocked to stop Police entering.

The media-frenzy was engineered to make it appear that the Police were 'picking upon the poor defenceless aboriginals who just wanted to live peacefully on their own'. - But Police and authorities started going there so much, armed with boltcutters to cut the locks away (which in itself made more virulent news), that soon enough the rabid news couldn't be bothered anymore to report the regular Police 'incursions' because it was happening so much.

It literally was like a feifdom, ruled by a single family and a single man and his cohorts.

The end result, and these facts are even being ploughed underground by the pasage of time, is that there WAS a LOT of crime going on, not only outside the padlocked fenced 'feifdom' but it was happening inside as well.

It all came to a head, when a young girl tragically hanged herself in the feifdom, and that couldn't be covered up much.

In Midland, it was common-knowledge, as I'm sure it was to many areas. And it was predictable.

Thereafter came minor 'revaltions' after revalation about what it had REALLY been like. And it was just as bad if not worse than anyone suspected. But the information was quashed and not made public. That is a common tactic.

The head guy was jailed, and that intself is a rarity even moreso nowadays, and he died in jail I believe, though I am unusure of that. But the guy is certainly dead.

Of that place, the inhabitants were all dispersed into wherever all about. And of course they could even be the ones around here, andor associates, and so on.

Just as an aside, around noon and after today, there has been activity at the evicted aboriginal drug dealer household place. Two commercial vehicles have been active and they had the security gates open at the place. I have no idea what's going on. (re-activating the place?) - What a shock it might be to the owners of the newly built new house next door to it. - Or is it? -- The activity lasted awhile and has now ceased. Once more the padlocked security fence is locked.

Because of what occurred in the Swan View 'camp', thereafter was a great diaspora of aboriginals roaming about. It was perhaps also how the aboriginal drug dealer at the end of Kalars Way street was able to take over and control a house and use it as his own feifdom for drug dealing and so on with a household of unknowable numbers of aboriginals. The current aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD is the offshoot of that drug dealer place.

Can you perhaps see how inter-related all this is?

I heard in-passing that the aboriginal guy (Fatguts) who ran the ex-corner drug dealar household now lives in another suburb. - Heaven help and protect those innocents around him.

It is why crime in Western Australia never goes down, especially aboriginal crime. It gets hidden. It gets dispersed. It gets re-categorised. It gets money and resources thrown at which disappears beyond the point of wastage.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cullacabardee,_Western_Australia

(read a heavily sanitised entry about the place at the Wikipedia entry above)

Cullarabardee, was for decades THE place where aboriginal crime and criminals ran rife and rampant. It had it's own saving grace being that it was cut-off from everywhere and everyone. (it still is) But it was miserable for the inhabitants. - When outer metroplitan population growth extended new communities closer and closer, the places soon (even under-construction) became the targets by criminals from there. I saw that first-hand.

Whiteman Park, a place I once worked at, was getting heavily attacked by 'mysterious' thieves and vandals every weekend, then it became every night. We could never be sure that the work we had finished the day before would even there the next day. Of this the public knew nothing about. Small trains were often the target of vandalism. An so were historic restored larger trains. Builidings, infrastructure, anything was attacked and vandalised and destroyed. -- It was rebuilt, repaired with public monies by one measure or another. Then it would all happen again and again and again. Vast amounts of money were evaporated away. Workers themselves didn't benefit.

And everywhere for the decent aboriginals, life gets harder whilst the shitheads just laugh and carry on and make life worse for them and everyone.

'dysfunctional' families is a buzzword that is constantly used whenever authorities talk about the criminals, and their next generational criminals. - They try to make it sound like there's just a TINY little problem that can be addressed and then all will be okay.....it's ridiculous.

Criminals would jump onto things and use them as if they were the ones who had come up with it.

When car thieves became SO bad that West Australia became known across Austalia for it as being the worst, THAT was soon covered up and kept quiet.

Early on when I first knew dear Fliss (Felicity Ann Carthew), Fliss could never understand why I was so 'paranoid' about car security in the cars we drove. But once in West Australia, she soon found out for herself the real truths. And she hated the reality of it.

Aboriginals siezed upon the media, and I can remember a period when they became absolutely rabid. It was a time when innocent vehicles were being stolen SO MUCH, that Police were bereft on how to deal with it all except rightly pursue and catch the criminals. Then came a rabid aboriginal woman on the news one night rabidly shrieking, "The Police are killing our children!! - Stop killing our children!!"

Really? - Really.

This is the 'reality' that the aboriginals deluded themselves into fervently believing. They shrieked that apparently because the Police 'chased' their kids 'who were only out for a bit of fun' (in somebody's deliberately fiddled with and stolen vehicle), that the Police should just let them go and have their fun and to never interfere.

There WERE terrible car smashes and many deaths of innocents. And still the shriekings of aboriginals grew loudest. "Stop chasing our kids!", was actually words shrieked out publicly used as placards. -- The aboriginals are ALWAYS blameless according to them. Especially when they ARE to blame for anything.

There was a massive push to have upgraded vehicle security standards across the board in metropolitan Western Australia, (at peoples expense) and that was the only thing that slowed all that shit going on. But no longer could anyone feel safe. Because now aboriginals and criminals broke into and smashed into your home and stole car keys and so on. And that is the current state of affairs. That and having cars actually smash INTO your home, cars that were driven so recklessly and with abandon that innocent people are not even safe in their own homes. Not even innocent children safe in ther own yards, or sleeping in their own beds.

Nobody will tell you how it all progressed along to this. Nobody will tell you how the REAL criminals progressed all this. And it's not just vehicles, it's been businesses, property, and innocent lives that have been destroyed. Mine included. And dear Fliss's.

Many and most have ignored the progressing and progression, but the past year or more has escalated yet again.

There has been new twists and variations in the news. It's long since become NEWS which has become lacklustre in it's absolute pithy-ness. They will happily 'inform' you of heavily-edited international news but not whats going on in your own area. People are genuinly shocked when they are told any news of what is and has been happening in their own streets.

P@15:20--Thursday-15_April-2017.--I love you Fliss and want to be with you. - Max is not better.