#ive just been quite messy on the inside whether that means my brain or my heart or even my gut

[sxldierselfship]

It's been a really difficult day so far. The first half of it was just fine and normal as usual, yet when the afternoon rolled around (especially closer to 3 PM) I ended up being put in a very specific position due to someone in my life coming back around and telling me they still felt for me.

So of course, since this person did so much damage to me I've been a bit on the fritz. In general lately I have felt burned out, but this specific event happening really did put me over that edge. I've kind of just taken hold in my bedroom because at some points it felt like I was walking on glass with these emotions.

For the most part, I've been keeping my mind elsewhere. Mainly on Tav. It was the one thing I could do to not stress so much from hearing that specific four-lettered word from this person.. as one could imagine, Tav hasn't been very happy with this entire situation either. I kind of ended up being "taken away" by him from most of what happened. At least I have the comfort he provides, since I can't seem to find it elsewhere or out of most other people. I don't know what to do or how I'll respond, but for now, I'm just.. I don't know.

[emily-echolls]

A Breaking Point

Summary: The universe finally makes an attempt to get Emily off her bullshit via an emergency room trip. Words: 3,616 Trigger Warnings: Blood, suicidal thoughts, drug use, Emily’s usual fucked up mind state tbqh

 She’d been walking to her Advanced Psychology class, wondering why she was bothering, wishing the abdomen pain she’d been doing her level best to ignore would just go away, cursing Ethan Anderson to hell and back for not giving her the painkillers she’d been self medicating with. Then-

Dizziness and the ground rushing towards her. The distant implication of pain.

Oh my god-!

Someone call Professor Echolls-

No, 911! Call 911! She’s bleeding everywhere-

Pressure on the side of her face and something hot trickling down her neck. A flash of scattered images. Flashing red and blue lights. Words spoke in a familiar, official tone that made something inside her go cold with remembering-

Adult female collapsed on the scene, unresponsive. Head wound from the fall, possible concussion and- Jesus Christ she’s burning up. Does anyone know who she is? Emily? Emily can you hear me? ...Get the gurney ready.

It was too much like the last time. But she hadn’t done anything wrong.

1, 2, 3- Multiple hands lifting her and setting her gently down again. Holy hell she’s light- what’s she weigh- 90 pounds? Someone lifting the hem of her sweatshirt and letting out a low whistle. -give up the damn ghost. You can see her ribs.

Rocking, hairpin turns, impersonal hands on her wrist, forehead, neck. The cool voices of people who had seen far too many emergencies to show any kind of panic. She could tell they were speaking to her, but she couldn’t focus on their words. She caught snatches of words and phrases; Staunch the bleeding- her blood pressure is dangerously low already- get an IV started immediately-

The same sick, nauseated feeling she'd been having all week, a stinging pain on her temple, and wetness coating her face and neck. She didn't know where she was, but it felt as if her body did. It was screaming in a desperate sort of panic and telling her what it knew of what came next; the pain of having her stomach pumped, her father’s hand clutching hers as he slept, thin sheets on hard mattresses, the silent sobs wracking her pained body as she stared into the wonderfully brilliant sunset outside her hospital room. The horrified realization she was still alive despite how desperately she didn’t want to be.

“No!” Gasping in panic, she threw open her heavy eyelids and wrenched away from the faceless people around her, fighting to sit up despite the hands that pushed her back down. She didn’t need to be here- she hadn’t done it. Her broken down, fucked up brain had been a thorny, twisted mess of self harm urges and impulsive thoughts, but she hadn’t done any of it. The goddamn acrobatics she’d been doing to avoid hurting herself had been more exhausting than anything. She’d spent more time in public  than she had in the past year and a half- she’d gone to Julian Lowell’s frat house in the middle of the night, for Christ’s sake. It wasn’t fucking fair.

“I didn’t do anything!” She snarled, lashing out towards the next EMT that tried to touch her and nearly toppling off the gurney she’d been placed on.

She was kitten weak. She realized it as she fearful blows she attempted to land on the paramedic glanced off all but harmlessly. Whatever was wrong with her, it was sapping every spare bit of strength she had. With a muttered curse as Emily attempted to do some damage with her nails at least, her wrists were seized with little effort in strong glove covered hands and slipped into sheepskin lined restraints. It was if her actions had no effect at all. They didn’t care if the body was willing to be treated or not- they were going to heal it one way or another. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to the hospital, and that meant they were going to call her sister- if no one had already.

Making a noise of wordless despair, she fell back against the gurney, the waiting blackness swallowing her again before she could do anything else.

“I didn’t do anything…”

“This is Emilia Echolls. Admitted two days ago after she collapsed; she required ten sutures to her right temple, done with no issues. No concussion. Medical history revealed she was diagnosed a year ago with Lupus which has thus far gone untreated. Restrained due to violence displayed towards first responders and a history of depression and suicidal tendencies. Blood analysis found multiple unprescribed painkillers along with high doses of her normal antidepressants- we’re pretty sure she was self medicating. Came in with an acute kidney infection that looks as if it’s gone septic. We’ve been administering nutrients intravenously, along with several different medications to keep her fever down. She’s been mostly unconscious since she was brought in two days ago. This is her sister Elisha Macdonald- her emergency contact and power of attorney. We-”

“I didn’t...”

Funny, Emily hadn’t made the conscious decision to speak.

A moment of tense silence, a hand tightening in her own, then Elisha’s weary voice;

“She’s said a few things since I got here but she’s still- I’m sorry doctors, but do you have any idea when she’s going to wake up? I just got back from my honeymoon and I’m wondering if I need to call the rest of our family to come down in case anything happens.”

“We’re just keeping her sedated for now. We weren’t optimistic initially, but she seems to be responding well to this round of antibiotics, and we’ve narrowed down the source of infection. I think she’s got a long road ahead of her as far as recovery goes, and she really has got to start getting treated for her illness, but I don’t think she’s in any sort of immediate danger at this point. If they’re able though, she should be waking up in the next day or so- I’m sure she’d love to see them.”

Elisha’s laugh was a sad, weary thing. “No, she wouldn’t. But thank you.”

.

When she had woken up after her suicide attempt, she’d been in agony- the sun had been setting and she’d been surrounded by her sleeping family. This time she was so drugged she could barely lift her hand, but she was blessedly pain free. Outside her small window was full dark, and it was only Elisha watching her warily as she blinked her way to consciousness. At least the gritty eyes and acute misery were the same.

“Emily?”

Emily glanced at her sister, her mind slowly churning its way to awareness and understanding. As soon as she did, and the neutral walls, beeping monitors, and sterile surroundings pieced itself together in her brain, her breathing hitched. She struggled to recall why she was here, vaguely remembered her fall and the ambulance ride. Panic made her breathing hitch slightly and she looked away.

“Why the fuck am I here?” she croaked without preamble, attempting to lift her hand to rip the nasal cannula out of her nose only to be stopped short by the restraints still on her wrist. “And what the fuck is this shit?”

Elisha reached out, no doubt intending to lay a soothing hand on her somewhere, and Emily cringed as far back into the bed as she could. People didn’t touch her- a byproduct of a fearsome reputation and the alienation of people she loved. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done more than brush by her on the street. Laying in a hospital bed having PTSD flashbacks of suicide watch- she didn’t know how she’d react to being touched but was sure it’d be negative. Elisha’s hand fell back against her lap with a soft thump that seemed aggressively loud in the silence that descended on them.

“Get these fucking things off me.”

Elisha’s face hardened and she sat back in her chair, shaking her head and directing her gaze away from Emily. She looked like shit- puffy faced and rumpled. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun that looked as if it had been slept in, and the bags under her eyes spoke to worrying instead of sleeping.  After a few moments she turned back to her sister with an expression that Emily had long ago learned meant Elisha was absolutely furious. “No.”

“Oh fuck you Lisha,” Emily snarled, tugging futilely against the soft cuffs on her wrists and ankles in something akin to panic. Even that small effort made her head spin and the not quite dissipated pain in her torso flair. “I shouldn’t even be here. I didn’t do anything.”

“Didn’t do-?! Oh!” Elisha stood up, going towards the door to her room and shutting it carefully before marching back over to her sister’s bed. “No Emilia- you didn’t do anything.When you were admitted you were dehydrated and malnourished- so you weren’t eating or drinking enough water, from the bags under your eyes I’d guess you haven’t been sleeping either- you weren’t getting treatment for Lupus. So you’re right. You haven’t done anything. Not one damn thing to take care of yourself- you might not have ‘done anything’ actively, but you’ve been passively killing yourself for an entire goddamn year Emily.”

Sighing in something that was close to defeat, Elisha sat back down in her chair and looked at her, at once searching and fed up. “When were you going to tell us? Or were you ever going to?”

Emily felt as if she were frozen, rooted to her hospital bed. The monitor next her beating in warning as her heart raced. Lupus. It was ice down her spine. Logically she had known what Elisha being there when she woke up had to mean. Still there was no more effective way her sister could have found to shatter her entire world than speaking that word.

Because this was everything she had been avoiding. If Elisha knew everyone knew. If she knew then it was a matter of time before her mother started calling her every week with magazine articles like ‘all natural remedies and diets to help autoimmune diseases’ and ‘five ways to fight depression’, Elizabeth would start looking at her like she had at the festival constantly- like she felt guilty for not understanding her fucked up life. They would forbid her from living on her own, before long the word would get out and there would be the acquaintances she barely knew offering her condolences, what she passed for ‘friends’ treating her like she was made of glass. Dozens of doctor’s appointments, her therapist and the questions Emily had no answers for, and everyone hovering too close while Emily sucked up their time and energy and resented them for their care- because she was fucking broken and couldn’t even love her family right. Exactly like before.

“Emily? Emily calm down, it’s alright.” Elisha’s face swam in front of her face as she leaned over, putting a warm hand on either side of Emily’s face in a would-be soothing way. Emily could remember her doing the same thing when she was little and wordlessly crying over some small childhood drama, her small fingers wiping away her tears. It was kind and familiar and she just couldn’t take that right now. She jerked as far away from her as she could in her limited bindings, a ragged breath tearing it’s way past her lips. The panic that had started when she woke up was starting to take over her rationality.

“Have you told anyone else yet?” She demanded, subconsciously yanking against the restraints again as she tried to make her breathing even out. Every part of her brain was screaming at her to do whatever possible to get away from this conversation- and she was conveniently all but chained to her hospital bed. It was some fucked up kind of fate.

“Not yet.” Elisha said hesitantly, still looking as if she wanted nothing more than to calm her somehow- like her hands were itching to touch her. It was enough to make Emily want to scream. Take these off and get the fuck out. Stop looking at me, stop touching me, stop caring. Finally ive up on me so I can die in peace and not feel so goddamn guilty about it. Please, please, please.

The ragged breath that Emily let out was something closer to a sob. “Then don’t. Please. Just don’t. I don’t want anyone else to know. I’ll do whatever you want Lish, please. I don’t- fuck. I don’t want to live under a goddamn microscope again okay? I didn’t do anything to warrant that- I haven’t done anything to myself. I haven’t been going to my therapy appointments or anything I know but- I’ll start going again. I promise. Just please. I’m literally begging you Lish. Don’t tell anyone else. I can’t do that again Lish, I can’t.”

It wasn’t fair to put on her, and Emily knew it. It was the same kind of selfish shit she’d been pulling her entire life, she just didn’t seem to be able to stop. She was a plague. A goddamn black hole that ruined everything it touched and sucked the life out of everyone who got to close to her bullshit, and no one understood why she pushed them away. She wanted to cling to people just as badly as any other lonely person- but seeing the effect she had on people was worse than dying alone. People hating her for being an asshole was easier to deal with than them resenting her for showing her underbelly and clinging to them.

“Emily…” Elisha’s voice was heartbreakingly tender. It made Emily’s skin crawl. Like she’d flayed herself open and been thanked for her effort. “Emily I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”

Emily knew.

That didn’t make it any better.

“Then leave.” she hissed viciously, bunching her hands in the thin bedding that covered her legs.

 Closing her eyes against the stinging threat of tears, she turned away from Elisha as much as she could in the confines of her restraints, ignoring all Elisha’s attempts at conversation until she heard the sound of her sister, crying as she left the room.

Maybe the agony was the same as the first time after all.

Emily’s sleep was abruptly ended by the sound of sensible heels clicking across the room, and the smell of sunflowers and marigolds.

Oh no, no please. I can’t do this. Not after last night. Please.

“Hello, darling.” A slight dip in the bed as a generous frame sat itself by her feet, ignoring the chair waiting at her bedside. The machine that monitored her pulse beeped in warning once again as her heart attempted to pound itself out of her rib cage. She’d thought seeing Elisha was hard, but this? This was so much worse.

“Your sister called me. It’s been a long time. I’ve missed you- I’ve been worried about you.” A hand came out to rest on her knee and Emily jerked away with a bitten off curse, her breath coming out ragged as a gasp.

“Join the fucking club.” She snapped viciously, giving the restraints a hard tug that she’d learned by now was completely useless. She’d attempted to get several different nurses to remove the damn things after Elisha left, but none would. Her sister had convinced them she was a danger to herself.

The morning light was blinding as she opened her eyes, Dr. Dubois’s plump frame and dark hair surrounded by a halo of light that made her look serene and ethereal. It was a stark contrast to the wretched fight or flight reflex that was singing through Emily’s veins. If she could have chewed her own arm off to get out of that room, she would have.

“Oh, I’ve been in that club.” The doctor’s voice was mild, but there was something behind that. Some gentle emotion Emily had no right to. “I’ve been in that club since you were seven years old Emily, one measly year of you avoiding me doesn’t change that. I’ve almost said to hell with confidentiality and called your parents so many times... I- well. When Elisha called me I was happy to hear you were only in the hospital. I’m so sorry to hear about your health, darling.”

Swallowing thickly, Emily looked at the woman who had been until last year one of her sole confidants. She looked different- her hair was shorter, a little grayer, and her eyes were bright with emotion. Without her permission, the tears that she had been biting back and forcing down for the last few months came rushing down her face, undeterrable. “I- I didn’t do it, you know. I didn’t do this to myself.”

The older woman’s face was a gentle as Elisha’s had been as she sighed. “I know darling, I know. But just because you haven’t been self harming doesn’t mean you haven’t been hurting yourself in other ways. You’re a smart woman Emily. I know you know you’re not well right now, you’re just like a cat that hides when it’s hurt and then hisses when someone who wants to help gets too close. It makes things harder on you.”

Dr. Dubois seized a tissue off the end table next to the bed and reached out slowly, giving Emily the option to tell her to stop before dabbing at the tears that Emily couldn’t wipe away, restraind as she was. She was grateful for the help, even if being touched killed her in a way she couldn’t quite explain. “Do you remember what you said to me? The first session we ever had? You said ‘I want to be happy’.”

It was stupid. A stupid innocent, naive thing Emily had said when she was too young and green to know that depression wasn’t the flu- and that taking a pill didn’t make it go away. But she could remember being so small, sitting on a leather couch she had practically grown up on, arms crossed and terrified that this woman and her parents were going to throw her out like a defective toy. She’d gone from fearing that to wishing they had- and she couldn’t remember when she’d started hating herself so goddamn much or if she’d just come out of the womb wishing she’d never taken her first breath.

A small sob broke past Emily’s mouth without her permission, then another, and before long her shoulders were shaking with the force of them. She’d cried plenty since her diagnosis, but she’d never actually grieved. Somehow she’d convinced herself that she’d accepted her fate, but it wasn’t true- she’d just pretended and faked it to herself so it was alright that she wasn’t trying to fight for her own life- so she didn’t have to share it with anyone. Then she’d pushed and shoved everyone away so they hated her, so she didn’t have to feel guilty that she was letting Lupus kill her without a fuss- because there was no one to leave behind. It wasn’t being suicidal if it was just the way things were- or so she’d managed to believe.

“I told you that was the first step, but I was simplifying things. Sometimes it’s hard to even want to be happy, when happiness seems too hard and succumbing to misery so easy.” Dr. Dubois continued. “Sometimes the first step is just admit you need help, and then let people help you.”

Now she was crying harder than she had in months; furious, boiling hot tears spilling down her cheeks faster than Dr. Dubois could wipe them away. Her breath was uneven and her shoulders were shaking with the force of the cries that forced their way past her clenched teeth. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she’d fought her entire goddamn life just to want to live, it wasn’t fair that she probably would never get to use her degree to help other kids like her, it wasn’t fair she was laying in a hospital bed right now, it wasn’t fair that she was sick, it wasn’t fucking fair she was probably going to die young.

Dr. Dubois scooted up the bed until she could pull her up from her reclined position and let her rest her head against her shoulder, crooning softly as she wrapped her arms around Emily’s bony frame. “There you are, let it out.”

They stayed in that position for some immeasurable amount of time, while Emily cried herself dry and wailed apologies, and half formed explanations of her actions, and cursed the universe that had made her sick in both body and mind but refused to just kill her properly. Dr. Dubois for her part listened quietly, humming soothingly as she rubbed Emily’s back. After a while, she pulled back, stuffy nosed and puffy eyed, and somehow feeling more tired than she’d felt in the entire year of having Lupus.

“I don’t know how much harder things can get before I can’t deal with it anymore.” She sniffed wearily. It was too exhausting now to pretend to be okay.

“I know darling, I know. All we can do is take things one day at a time.”

Over the course of the next few hours, Dr. Dubois called Elisha back in the room, the three of them discussing treatments and medicine changes. Inpatient care was discussed and quickly decided against- so long as Emily and Elisha found somewhere for her to stay that wasn’t by herself and resumed her therapy appointments. (”And this time if you miss more that one a month, I’m calling Elisha and consequences be damned.” Dr. Dubois had warned her grimly.) The therapist spoke with some doctor or another, throwing around words like Lexapro, Zoloft, and Luvox, then left with a quick goodbye and a desire to see her soon.

Emily was left in an awkward silence with Elisha hovering awkwardly near the door. The energy in the room was exhausted, bitter, and more than a little hostile- from both sides. Elisha was still calling her family any minute now. Emily was still furious about it. Between them were words Emily couldn’t take back, Elisha’s misplaced guilt over the state of her little sister’s mind, and permeating everything that coincidental phone call almost six years ago in May that had accidentally saved Emily’s life- the one that neither would apologize for.

After what might have been thirty seconds and might have been fifteen minutes Emily sighed, scooting to the side and patting the mattress next to her. She supposed after a year of hiding away, it was her turn to reach out. “Come here and tell me about your honeymoon. Is Dennis Macdonald just as big of a fucking idiot in Europe as he is in America?”

It wasn’t enough, that was for goddamn sure. The damage Emily had done wasn’t one that could be healed by any number of gestures. Maybe it couldn’t be healed at all. But it was more of an effort than she had made in a year, and for the moment Elisha seemed willing to pretend with her that things might be alright. She perched herself carefully on the edge of Emily’s bed, and Emily extended her hand, letting her seize it between her own. “You leave my sweet husband alone, you. It was amazing.”

For now, it was enough.

[jungksbih]

First Dates I

this is my first fic on here! Feel free to read n enjoy!

genre: comedy/angst/light smut? idk, etc

pairing: johnny x reader

word count: 2345

Parts: I II III IV V

Your breath hitched at the sensation that you felt for the first time. The faint hum of the device rang loudly in your ears causing your senses to heighten and your cheeks turned a dark red in color at the realization of what you were doing. Of course it was fine since you were home alone and it was a normal thing for people around your age but you still couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment from you. Your eyes remained shut while the heat in your body increased slowly, so slow to the point that you were considering stopping for the night and returning to your normal routine. Everyone around you made it their goal to make fun of you constantly for being a prude. Even though you were far from it everyone around you insisted on thinking otherwise. You had sexual desires just like the students around you. You had thoughts about people around you that you’d be mortified of saying out loud, you were put into moods at inconvenient times just like the others. The only difference was that you were too overwhelmed with things that you had to focus on to be bothered by it.

“Oh my god.” the moan left your lips and your body slightly contorted as the wave of pleasure washed through you.  The thought of being embarrassed by the sounds that left your lips didn’t even occur to you since you were finally close to finishing. Finally after spending 30 precious minutes of your precious time that you certainly did not have you were getting the results that you wanted.

Just as you felt the desire to climax your phone began to ring, breaking your focus. Your eyes opened in frustration and you paused the vibrator before leaning over and answering the jackass the interrupted you.

“You know this really isn’t a good time so I hope whatever it is, is important.”

“Look I know you’re busy studying like you always do but I really need your help. This time it’s actually something important.” A familiar feminine voice pleaded on the other end and holy shit did you know that phrase all too well.

It was your acquaintance  friend troian most likely asking you to cover up for her again. She was under the impression that the two of you were best friends, maybe because you entertained her all the time but on your end she was quite bothersome but you were too nice to say anything about it.

“If you want me to tell one of your boyfriends that you moved i won't i'm not in the mood for it.” Your eagerness to climax instantly washed away just like that, and the longer you were on the phone the less you felt like continuing where you left off.

“Just hear me out okay?  i’m not asking for that but it’s kind of similar…” You tuned her out for a moment as you sat up and pulled up your underwear, holding the phone in between your ear and your shoulder. Conveniently there was a glass of water on the night stand- most likely from that morning. You took a sip from it, drifting away to your own world before her voice rang in your ears louder than before catching you off guard.

“Hmm?” you hummed questioningly. There was an annoyed sigh on the other end of the phone which was uncommon for you to hear from her. She wasn’t necessarily the type to get annoyed by anything you did since she was generally fond of you.

“Did you really not hear a thing I said?”

“No” you paused. “Sorry.”

“Can you please go on a blind date as me?” She asked again, slowing down her speech and emphasizing each word to ensure that you would hear her fully this time. Regardless you still weren’t quite sure if you heard her correctly. Blind date? The idea of a blind date ran through your brain like a short film and you pictured an old man in his 60’s trying to sell you out or something and you instantly were turned off at the idea. “Please, Y/N?”

“Huh? Oh uh yeah.” You said without meaning to. Once the words that left your mouth met up with your comprehension you wanted to slap yourself for being dumb and getting yourself in that position.

“Really? You’ll do it?” She started to make that voice she made when she was ready to end a conversation and you knew that there was no turning back on your unintentional offer this time.

“N-No I meant-”

“It’s settled! Tonight at 10 you’re going to go to the Soulful Cup. You know where that is right?” She asked into the phone. Your throat began to dry up and you nodded to yourself in response, forgetting that she couldn’t see you.

“Uh yeah I know where that is. What should I wear?”

“You can just come over to my place if you’d like I could give you something nice to wear and tell you what to and not to do okay?” You heard a door shut in the background and the faint sound of a male’s voice on the other line. “ I’ve got to go i’ll see you soon, bye.”

You placed the phone down after checking the phone once she hung up on you. 8:47pm. You had about an hour to get ready and get to the coffee shop on time, and depending on how long the “date” would last you would potentially be missing out on any studying time. This is what you deserved though it’s natural, you could have just not answered the phone and your day would have gone according to plans but that’s not what happened. An exaggerated groan left your lips as you stood up and walked to the bathroom to evaluate yourself. Your makeup was still in tact surprisingly, and your hair was slightly tangled but it wasn’t anything that Troi couldn’t deal with on her own.

After checking up on yourself you decided that it was time to get going, grabbing your phone that was at 50% and your collection of keys you headed out the door and  made your way to her house. Thankfully she lived about 15 minutes away by foot so you were fine just walking to her place instead of driving. The last time you’d been a date was about five years ago when you were sixteen and since then it just never crossed your mind. You wondered to yourself if you’d even be fit for this “date”, was it even a real date? What would you say? What if they really were attractive? What if they were someone you knew? What if someone saw you and misunderstood? The thoughts clouded your mind while you continued to walk alone in the dark and it wasn’t until you arrived to your friend’s place that you  came back to reality.  After giving the door a few gentle knocks there was shuffling on the other end, followed by the sound of a laugh that wasn’t Troi’s. The door opened, revealing her in a robe and she quickly rushed you in, closing the door behind you.

The apartment had the same familiar smell of overused fragrances and candles and the bright colors of her couches stood out to you the same as they always did. The only thing that was off about the setting was the pairs of shoes that were next to hers. While thinking about this you slipped off your shoes and invited yourself into the living room, taking a seat on one of the blinding couches.

“Sorry this place is a bit messy, when I called you Taeyong was at the door so things got misplaced a little.” Troian piped up from the side  while your eyes continued to scan the area,  taking in your surroundings.

“He’s still here i’m guessing?” You raised an eyebrow and looked at her and the her face reddened slightly as she gave a nod in response.

“He is...he’s in the room, we were hanging out I forgot that you were still coming over…”she drifted off and read the unamused expression on your face. “But he could be another set of eyes to determine whether what you’re wearing is good or not for the date!” She always had quite the optimistic view which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just wasn’t quite your taste.  She walked halfway through her short hallway towards her bedroom and called out to one of her boy toys that was in her room, telling him to get out because you were there.

“It’s fine, I can really just go like this...I don’t mind.” You began, hoping that you weren’t becoming a burden even though it was the other that should have felt like she was becoming a burden.

She ignored your words and walked back over to you, muttering something about talking nonsense as she grabbed your wrists and led you to her room.  The man who you were assuming to be Taeyong was  eating from a bag of chips whilst continuing to watch tv as if he hadn’t heard anything which clearly got on Troi’s nerves.

“Look I get it you had a long day cry me a fucking river but you need to stop getting your crumbs and shit on my bed unless you’re going to be the one to clean it up.” She began while opening her closet door. Her efforts to get him to stop were useless though, he just continued on as if she didn’t say anything at all. You were debating on whether or not you even saw him flinch at the sound of her voice, but apparently you weren’t the only one that noticed this because the sound of the hangers moving got slightly louder. “It’s not like you’re the only person that sleeps on this bed so for the others sake you should at least make a team effort, yes?”

This caused him to raise his eyebrows finally and turn to face her. Instead of having a scowl on his face though, he flashed a bright smile and tilted his head to the side, almost as if he knew an inside joke that everyone else in the room didn’t pick up on.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I have lots of money so if I were you I wouldn’t put myself on such a high horse and think that i’m the only girl he’s fucking. I already know what this is, Troi.” He curled up the bag of chips and placed them on the nightstand beside him before getting up and beating down on the blanket to get rid of any crumbs that he got on there. “Anyways honey, what are you picking up for your little friend here?” He sat back down and continued to smile  as he spoke.

“Oh you’re so full of shit Taeyong, but if you must know, I was thinking of putting her in something simple but sexy.” She paused, looking your figure over once more before diving back into the closet. “What about a simple dress? I have a silk dress that I barely use you could wear that, and it’s black so it should compliment you.”

Your lips pursed at the sight of it. You were having difficulty deciding whether or not you liked the dress at all but it wouldn’t hurt to put it on anyways. After grabbing it you excused yourself to the bathroom and slipped it on. You saw your figure in the mirror and for once you felt decently confident in the way you looked. Yes, Troi could be annoying but she knew how to make sure you looked good no matter the occasion.

“Did you die in there?” Her voice rang through the closed door. You jumped slightly at the unexpectedness of her voice but soon walked to the door, opening it before flashing a large smile at her. “Well i’ll be damned…”She eyed you up and down and nodded to herself in approval.

“I love it.” You stated only making her nods quicken.

“You can keep it. That dress was made for you. Now go, it’s 9:45” She said. Your eyes bulged open as you looked at the clock in the bathroom, realizing that it was in fact 9:45 and you were about to be late for the date. You silently prayed to yourself that whoever was there would be kind enough to wait for a little while and not get too angry in the process.

You rushed out of the house, putting on some heels that she also handed to you while saying goodbye quickly, leaving the bickering pair to themselves. You didn’t even bother to put on your heels as you ran out the house, trying to bolt to the cafe on good time. After about 5 minutes of running you stopped to catch your breath, heels in one hand you felt around to grab your phone but there was one issue. It wasn’t there. Cursing under your breath you put the heels on your feet and played with your hair, hoping that when you arrived you wouldn’t look like too much of a mess. Out of the crowd of people you were able to see a large cup sign in the distance signalling that you were almost there. You walked as fast as you could to the shop before finally arriving, letting out a large sigh you looked around the oddly packed cafe in search for this guy.

While looking around you noticed a guy around your age with dark brown hair looking around like you were and a part of you thought that maybe, maybe that was him and you’d actually have someone decent. The both of your eyes locked and you smiled simultaneously, and you knew that it was him. You made your way over to him and you smiled at him until you heard him speak.

“You’re Troian, right? Hi I’m Johnny.”

[aliceinwonderland2017centur-blog]

Pat Handy /North Eastern Library

Disclaimer--- Um this is actually not a complaint. Im pretty sure me not being able to get into my account was done purposefully maliciously and illegally. No matter how white you are you still have to follow the law someone has mistakenly told you because you hold authority you can use a platform to conspire in criminal behavior. Please dont come after me with a gun. Another thing about white people I didnt care that you existed I didnt want to get into a war of brains with you I want to be another anonymous user  but no you turned criminal got a negative reaction a verbal asswhooping that all  6 year old gets when they show their ass and yet you claim to be mad. Dont comphrend that when you  misbehave an asswhooping follows. Sadly you are more than likely in business attire in fucking stray jacket white skin believing you are somehow entitled to act recklessly and there not be consequences. Its just not true. Im sorry no sir  WAKE THE FUCK UP. Be a fucking business professional. You like a civilized proefessional annonymous world right. Imagine if I coudl track you down. and posion your food. Fuck with your phone youre internet done even know you. You do. You will not pick me out the fucking crowd  and then say I need to watch my fucking MOUTH. Something something ---Yourself. iNAPPROPRIATE. 

SO lets start with Pat Handy.

Pat Handy is a shelter for women. When I first arrived  I wasn’t entirely impressed with their intake process due to the long wait. But Neither hear nor there. Its over and done I got in. A short while later it comes to my attention that Pat Handy has policies that are not productive to homeless women or women period. Productive to human beings. Their behavior is so the last thing everyone was thinking. No matter fact no one was thinking it. Ive threatened a suit numerous of times actually written out a complaint and it will be posted  in this post. Ive actually gotten this line a few times from police as well. But there are probably atleast five policies or regulations that need fixing overnight.  Like not  putting them in place was equal to it was done purposefully. Im in a shelter for a reason. Im down on my luck. Im in a time of need. I find it perplexing that people went out their way to build a shelter but they didnt take the proper steps to have a functioning shelter. Its really not my jobs to be on twiitter and tumblr doing someone else's job to get things done. I don’t have the means the money or the time much like the SHELTER implies. Homeless. How you expect people who need help to one do your job but two get out of this TEMPORARY situation and Maintain where they lay their head without the help of the shelter is Crazy. I will admit I’m one of the luckier ones. I have money. Limited but I have money. Sadly Ive spent money just trying to maintain what I'm use to. What I would do if I were home. And protecting myself from outside things. Surprisingly enough it adds up to alot of money, which takes away from the money I need to leave.  I’ve written numerous of emails to staff and the Managers of the building but they seem unphased by what I consider unsettling situations. At the very least very unaccommodating and uncompromising for sensitive situations. I did for the time being before  recent events walk away from the suit for numerous of reasons. Among them a safety concern. People make you scratch your head when they go out of their way to cause problems. Sadly there are NUMEROUS OF unsettling things wrong with Pat Handy. But the one that has come to my attention as of recent I cant stomach. Over and Over again Pat Handy's staff has shoved their unchangeable uncompromising policy down our throats. The biggest one that has me scratching my head is that all residences have to leave the building at 7 am and return at 4 pm on weekdays and leave at 9 am on weekdays and return at 4 pm on weekends.  Its a policy I have adjusted to out of sheer necessity but there are alot of bad mornings bad days.   But Sunday is still a hard pill to swallow there is absolutely no where to go till 1 pm. Just recently I became sick. I was diagnosed with gastritis due to some bad food (MORE ON THIS LATER) Two staff members saw that I was sick  vomiting and  diaherrea. I then went to the hospital. After returning from the hospital on the 13th I asked  one of the advocates on my floor if I could  go lay down. I also showed her my ER paperwork. Suprisingly I was fought on bedrest and was told that I had to have some long DRAWN  out thing stating HOW LONG  the bedrest was suppose to be and for what reasons. Obviously I'm not feeling well so I didnt plan to be sick I don't  know to ask the doctor for a book on my recovery process and quite frankly its an emergency room I saw the doctor for  10 15 minutes.  Sick. PRESCRIPTION. Why are you going out of your way to fight me on bed rest?  Firstly IM NOT GOING ANYWHERE TO ask for anything in the heat RETURNING from the hospital because im what? sick. That makes no sense.  And to be quite honest its tacky Im actually sick but how tacky is it that a doctor needs to  jump through hopes to convince a shelter something they should already be providing SHELTER. lmao. It really gets no better. The ER paperwork didn't go into detail about bedrest but it was stated that bedrest is suggested. Everything was vague and should have been taken with a grain of salt. No one person is the same. I actually have asked 4 times since my hospital visit for Bedrest. the last one being when Police were called on the 17th. I wont lie about the situation became exacerbated when I realized there were women staying in doors who are not sick while the rest of us sit outside in the heat looking like zoo animals. Unfortunate for the shelter these women are light and white its offensive and disrespectful. It really sends the wrong message.  I am sick and I need to prove to them im sick before I can lay down and rest these women have nothing wrong with them and they are inside. I will post emails between me and the shelter. What's even more offensive the white woman Ive had problems with. It looks alot she was rewarded. I had no idea ANYONE was inside during the hours of 7 and 4. I was aware there are people on bedrest, people who are sick but I was under the impression the POLICY applied to everyone. They way it should be.

These women are still sitting up in the shelter as we speak. Are required to go no where in the heat. The shelter tells on themselves if you are suppose to be there you are not in the mirror putting make up on in your pajamas as a COVER five minutes before departure time. You are sick you are employed you don't need a cover right? Exactly Goodbye. A lie. White. Thinks things magically falls from the sky. W e are talking about Pat Handy so they are aware Im upset about light bright and spoiled milk sitting inside while we squats on fucking bricks and on cement for an hour and half pointless while business professionals walk by  for the morning communute.

Let me put here We are treated like humans when hyporthermia alert comes on but for cold weatehr its I believe 32 and below and for hotweather I think its like 95 and above r something likethat. Watch PH top me. We missed it by a degree and we are outside on cycles. Fucking sad and ridiculous and they touting A FEMALES names

Moving on to Problem Child Number 2

Northeastern Library 7th street NE Washington, DC

Ive been going to that library for the past little while maybe a few weeks maybe a few months. Outside the no phone calls at the computer There were no issues. And even that was business related. I mind my business and im in and and out. Im looking for work. Don't know anyone beyond a familiar face. Around maybe a few days before the 11th of July maybe a week im not sure. Im noticing my computer is having suspicious activity that disrupts my work. obviously its very possible for technical issues to arise but three is too many times and noone else is having issues. I send a complaint via the website computer is messing up too many times and noone else is having problems. I literally have to closeout all programs three times. And I wont lie its not the best day but the library was none the wiser. Minding my business haven't said anything to anyone. I get an email following that incident days later.  The woman who intercepted my message via the library's website tried to imply she didnt know what library I was referring to. This is possible but I personally find it unlikely. It was sent from a Library computer and I typed in Northeastern Library so  I find it hard to believe she doesn't know what library Im referring to. AT that point it would appear like she is playing a game or attempting to cover for whomever. But she could have covered for whomever and just kept her mouth closed. She messy end of discussion. I respond with this message

Start Emails

Please excuse me for the tone of this email but quit frankly I wasn't expecting to have to hold the hand and do your job. I really didn't want to have to respond at all. Ive written two emails. Ive enclosed pictures to show you--whether or not someone incompetently put together a website or it;S DC policy TO hire stupid people and make it MY JOB TO figure our your JOB or YOU KNOW PRECISELY and this is another game I am hesitant to call and put a stop to.  It came from A dc library computer. You have my card number. I really hate to jump to conclusions. But people make it hard these days to come in and do mind their business and leave. I don't have time for this. I'm here for a reason to conduct business my business that has nothing to do with you. I don't have time to write complaints. Ive enclosed pictures. Hopefully someone gets paid to CONNECT DOTS.

-----Original Message----- From: Ward, Deborah A. (DCPL) (DCPL) <deborah.ward@dc.gov> To: --- Sent: Mon, Jul 3, 2017 10:00 am Subject: RE: [General Topic] Computer Freezing

Which library were you visiting on Friday, June 30?

Thanks

-----Original Message----- From: dcplwebeditor@dc.gov [mailto:dcplwebeditor@dc.gov] Sent: Friday, June 30, 2017 2:52 PM To: Fayemi, Temitayo (DCPL); Ward, Deborah A. (DCPL) Subject: [General Topic] Computer Freezing

----sent a message using the contact form at https://www.dclibrary.org/contact.

So I've been on this computer for about maybe an hour to an hour half and its frozen maybe three times in the last twenty minutes. I did ask someone else if there computer is freezing and there's was not. I'm not sure if its a technical issue but Its off my computer is freezing three times in an hour.

End Emails

Surprising enough this happened the same day as the emails on the eleventh. I did not send the emails until after I returned on the 13th. The emails were going to be sent should another situation arise. One presented itself the same day whether they are responsible I still am not sure. The library is not cooperative which places doubt  on them and due to their behavior following the incident and after I filed the police report I start leaning into asshwooping territory unfortunately.

Following the incident with the library the email pasted above sent to Ms. Ward on the 11th  was the last email I sent before  being sick by food poisoning the same  day. I sometimes go to 7 eleven that next  door But that day I stuck to my usual a croissant  which is packaged. Later that day around the time im doing laundry I go to Walgreens (Nesquick) and 7 eleven   (beefpattie) (one usual beef pattie is sporadic) . I'm doubled over sick by the end of the night. Ive talked to 7 eleven while nothings certain leaning towards Walgreens.  

The library is boldy unapologetic and even if they had nothing to do with still very much up for debate You are A business you are being paid to be a business professional which I have not seen. Not only does the situation demand a response I requested a response. To your fifty cent credit thats how much its worth considering I was poisoned and You are a likely candiate. Im mean. ANd disrespectful AND IM NOT apologetic. Look AT HOW YOU behave. They all need new lives that's how bad those emails were. LMAO it makes me feel better.  Nose in the air. And im still taller then you I dont see anything. You are being paid. These are rules and policy you have to follow. So sorry about it. Sucks for you.