#so I got home shortly after midnight and what do I find? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pkg4mumtown · 9 months ago

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Medicine at Midnight

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: A night out with Hotch and his team leads to either the best or worst mistake you could have made.

Content Warnings: smut 18+, alcohol, GN!reader (no Y/N), friends with benefits, strong language, first person POV

A/N: My entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Criminal Minds Friends with Benefits Challenge. It also happens to be the first CM fic I’ll be posting but certainly not the last! I’m currently working on a multi-chapter Hotch x Male!Reader fic, so stay tuned. I’ve also added the playlist I used for Hotch inspiration at the end of the post.

Also available on AO3

I barely managed to enter my apartment and drop my gear to the floor when the shrill ringtone of my cellphone broke the otherwise pleasant silence.

Fuck. Me.

I plead to whoever is listening that it’s not my section chief calling about a case. I ripped the cellphone from my pocket, too frustrated to even look at the caller ID as I snapped out my last name.

“Rough night?” came the deep, soothing voice on the other end.

Oh.

“Hey, Aaron,” I sighed and relaxed. “Sorry, I thought it was another case.”

“It’s okay. Are you busy?” He asked and I could hear the slightest hint of hope in his voice.

“Depends on what you’re going to ask me and...what I’ll get in return,” I stressed. “I just got home.”

“I can promise free drinks,” he chuckled, the vibrations buzzing through to my end of the phone. “The team is going out and Dave just went out of town.”

Hotch doesn't need to say more than that for me to understand what he’s asking. He wants a social buffer and for free drinks I’ll do just about anything for him.

His team had helped the DC Field Office with a case that I oversaw about six months back. The case had quickly spiraled out of control with multiple unsubs, and I begged my chief to let us call the BAU in for help. While they didn’t swoop in and solve the case in a matter of days, they certainly got it back to a manageable position. What would have taken months of work was quickly cut down to two weeks.

Since it was still relatively local, Hotch’s team would go home every night and come back bright and early. One of the first nights with them on the case, I waved them goodnight; standing like I would be leaving shortly after them. As they disappeared out of sight, I sat back down and stayed firmly planted at my desk. I was still flipping through files over the umpteenth coffee of the day when soft footsteps stopped in front of my desk.

“You’re still here?”

Hotchner.

“Yea, I’m just...” I gestured vaguely to the files. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for anymore. Just hoping I can find something.” I gave him a tight smile as he hovered by my desk. His bag was nowhere in sight, so it was clear he had no plans to leave either.

The grim smile on his face confirmed that he was doing exactly the same.

“I’m sure he's waiting for you at home,” he nodded to the picture on my desk as I went back to looking at the files in front of me.

“That’s my cousin,” I stated without having to look. “No one’s waiting for me, I promise you that. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re leaving either, so...”

“Got me there,” Hotch smirked, shifting his weight nervously as I paid half-attention to him. “I won’t snitch if you won’t? My son is with his aunt, so my apartment is a little depressing.”

At that confession, I looked back up at him as his expression turned crestfallen.

“Deal. You can pull up a chair, if you want.” I suggested, seeing that the floor was pretty much empty now and it seemed cruel to make him sit by himself wherever we were able to stuff his team on the cluttered floor.

This went on for the next two weeks that the BAU worked with us and each night the ice broke a little more. That extra hour or two after the team left progressed from talking about the case to talking about ourselves. It was surprisingly easy considering his personality on a case, but once his defenses came down, he was more relaxed and even threw in a smile that I began to notice was quite rare.

I began noticing his nearly imperceptible antics when he was stressed. His tight expression would feign focus but his white-knuckled grip on whatever was in his hand told a different story. I caught myself pressing a finger to his tight fist throughout the day, making him aware of what he was doing before removing my fingers as soon as his fist loosened. At some point, he stopped straining his hand muscles, but I’d feel his finger pressing firmly against one of mine whenever he was near me. It was usually brief, just enough to feel the ridges on each other’s fingers before his touch was gone.

After the case was over, I never expected to hear from him. Hotch’s number stayed saved in my phone from the case, but never once did I expect to see it flash across my screen while driving home one night. Drinks became a nearly weekly occurrence between the two of us—provided neither of us were on a case—and while nothing more ever happened, I couldn't tell what his endgame was. We chatted about the weeks we both had, family, sorrows—all of it—all the while our hands pressed against each other just to feel another person.

I chalked it up to anxiety for him and loneliness for myself.

Despite our nights out together, we never went out with his team, and I hadn't seen them since the case all those months ago. So, it was a little unnerving to accept his invitation. How would he explain us being on friendly terms now despite not knowing each other prior to the case? Would they even care? Does it even matter?

“Uh, sure. Where at? I just need to change,” I answered him.

“I’ll pick you up in twenty?” he asked, and I shouldn’t have been surprised at his need to drive by now.

Control freak.

“Okay.”

“See you soon.”

I changed into something more comfortable, but not too comfortable. I didn’t want to look like I wanted to stay home curled on my couch.

Even if that sounded heavenly right now. Hotch could come, too.

When Aaron sent a text to tell me he was here, I was out the door in a few seconds. The inside of his SUV lit up as I opened the door, revealing him dressed in a dark, long-sleeved sweater and jeans.

“Hey,” he greeted me as I climbed in.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

Once I was seated and buckled, I rested my arm on the center console next to his. His sleeves were pushed up to his forearms, his hair tickling my skin as he took off. At the first red light we hit, he adjusted the radio and brought his hand back down to land directly on mine.

He didn’t move it, and I didn’t want him to.

The air was thick with booze and sweat as we entered the bar. It was different from the one Hotch and I usually frequented, preferring something quieter and lower key than this one. It’s crowded, not surprising for a Friday night, but it sure did make it more difficult to locate his team. This time, I'm the one initiating contact, pressing two fingers into his palm as we approached where the team was tucked into a back corner booth. I removed my fingers before they noticed our approach.

“Hotch!” They all greeted him at varying levels of excitement with empty glasses already littering the table.

How long had they been here already?

Morgan had begun moving the team deeper in the booth to make room for us when I recognized a member of their team who I had only seen via a computer screen.

“Hey, nice to see you again,” I greeted everyone, having to raise my voice as the music battled with the overlapping conversations around us. “You must be Garcia,” I reached over and shook her hand as we slid in.

Her excitement was contagious, and I couldn’t help myself from grinning as she spoke and reintroduced the team by first name. There were looks and eyebrows exchanged between the others as they likely wondered exactly what I’d feared, but none of them expressed their questions verbally.

“Drink?” I heard Hotch ask as a waiter came by and I nodded to him, knowing it’ll help my nerves.

I didn’t even need to tell him what drink to order at this point.

“Thanks,” I smiled and felt him shift closer to me until our legs were practically glued together.

It must have been my lucky day because the team kept the conversation topics relatively light as the night wore on. There were plenty of shots going around—Hotch only agreeing to have one with them in solidarity—coupled with food, a few spill mishaps, and raucous laughter. Hotch laughed and smiled with them but not nearly as loudly. He did surprisingly well anxiety-wise, so I wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted me here in the first place. I was having fun, though, and he’d insisted on paying for me, so I didn’t think too hard on it.

My hands were both above the table fidgeting with the condensation on my glass as we loudly discussed the current topic. Hotch tapped his fingers on his glass rhythmically with one hand while the other dropped below and landed on my leg. I jumped at the contact and hoped everyone was too inebriated to notice.

No dice.

Spencer's glassy eyes snapped to my movement briefly, JJ made eye contact across the table with Penelope, Emily stared me dead in the eyes, and Derek stared at Hotch. If I wasn't also in the same line of work, it might not have been so noticeable considering they hadn’t stopped the conversation.

Hotch played it off, slouching back against the booth and laughing at whatever Emily was recanting, looking a little more at ease with the touch.

Now, I notice the difference.

As nonchalantly as possible, he relaxed his arm, slipped his hand between my knees, and tucked his palm under my leg to cup where my hamstring met the bend in my leg. I could feel his warmth through my pants and the way his thumb obsessively traced the inner seam near my knee.

I almost thought they would ignore the way he was leaning noticeably closer, and I was sorely disappointed when Penelope spoke up after Emily finished.

Penelope's eyes were perceptive, and she leaned forward playfully while Derek leaned into her with his arm draped over her shoulder, “So, you two,” she began. Her eyes were twinkling with far too much mischief and now I believed every word from Hotch about how much trouble her and the man next to her got in to together, “You’re...?”

I grinned, laughing off her intrigue and kept my voice as steady as possible, “We’re friends.”

Derek in this state was even more blunt, teasing Hotch further with a smirk playing on his lips, “With benefits?”

Penelope gasped that he followed up with that line while the others hid giggles behind their drinks.

Hotch’s brow furrowed and he lifted his drink off the table as a flush rose up his neck to his cheeks. He took a sip while looking in my direction and I held his gaze. There’s a look I didn’t quite recognize there. “Without sex?” he finally said once he swallowed and set his glass down, “Then, what’s the benefit?”

The entire table erupted into laughter. Derek and Penelope were practically laughing on top of each other, Emily was laughing behind the hand clasped over her mouth with huge, surprised eyes, and Spencer was laughing into JJ's shoulder.

I was just as surprised as them and hadn’t broken eye contact with Aaron yet. His hand had reassuringly squeezed my leg as he smirked to let me know he was joking. With a challenging glint in my eyes, I finally responded as the laughter died down a bit. “My delightful company, asshole,” I shoved him with my shoulder. “And someone to talk to and...did I mention my winning personality?”

Hotch laughed, closing his eyes and leaned heavily back into me. He moved his hand from my leg to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.

“Dick,” I murmured playfully through a fake frown.

Aaron just slid over a leftover shot as consolation.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but the sudden mention of sex has me sweating underneath my clothes. Hotch’s heavy arm and sweater did nothing to help that. It wasn’t like I was unaware of his attractiveness; I was simply unsure of his intentions considering we had never spoke about our relationship. There were plenty of times I had to talk myself out of kissing him despite how easy it would have been, but the look in his eyes when he said that had me digging up all those thoughts again.

It wasn’t a terrible idea. We were both single, busy, and hung out enough as it was. I liked to think were both mature enough to handle something like that. I took another long swig of my drink with a deep frown that I didn’t realize was there.

“You okay?” he dropped his head to murmur close to my ear.

He snapped me out of my thoughts, and I gave him a reassuring grin, “Yea.”

The bar crowd grew thinner and thinner as time passed. Reid looked like he could fall asleep any second and JJ was the only barrier holding him up. The team soon rose, promising to take cabs home to reassure their boss that they were all responsible adults.

Derek gave Aaron one last sly smirk before following Penelope and the others. Hotch just shook his head at him with an amused sigh.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Aaron murmured once they were gone, his voice low now that the bar was much quieter than it was hours ago.

“Of course. It was fun,” I leaned my head on his shoulder.

Despite the absence of the others, he didn’t retract his arm, and my heart started pounding a little faster at the thought. His touch felt more intimate after all that and it made my thoughts race.

How much was I reading into this? How wrong was I? And did I want to do something about it?

“Ready to go? It’s almost midnight,” He asked.

I nodded, finishing my drink.

The drive back to my place was quiet and I fiddled with his hand the entire drive. Between that and my constant looking over at him, he definitely knew something was wrong.

“What’s on your mind?” He raised an eyebrow and gave me a quick glance but refocused his eyes back on the road immediately.

“Hmm?”

“You’re being weird. Is it what I said back there? Because I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he gave me his full attention once he pulled up in front of my building.

“No, no, you’re fine,” I squeezed his fingers. “Just a lot on my mind,” I sighed. I looked out at my apartment building next to us and pursed my lips.

Fuck it.

“You—uh—wanna come up?”

There was absolutely no other reason for me to ask that. He had to know why I was asking without me saying it outright.

Right?

My nerves were on fire and my mind raced with all the possibilities he could come back with. Silent, Hotch took a beat to think and reached for the keys in the ignition, “Sure.”

Oh.

I was hyper aware of Aaron’s presence as he followed me upstairs to my apartment door. My hands were practically shaking with anticipation as I fiddled with the keys. Once I was inside, I left the door open for him and heard him lock it behind me. The click cemented my determination on the matter.

“Make yourself at home,” I nodded toward the couch and started flipping lights on. “Want something to drink?”

“I still have to drive,” he declined, his eyes following me to the kitchen.

“You can always stay here,” I reached up into my cabinets for two glasses and poured a drink for myself and a scotch for Hotch.

“Is that so?” His voice rumbled behind me, much closer than he had been a few seconds ago.

When the hell did he sneak up on me?

I turned to face him, finding him far closer than I imagined. I passed him his drink, which he took a tall sip of, and I hurried to catch up.

That sip must have given him the courage he needed because he set the glass back on my counter and took another step forward. His hand found my waist with a light touch. It wasn’t hesitant by any means, but light enough to ask permission to continue. Unlike the nervous movements in his hands earlier, his hands were confident and intentional now.

“Is this okay?”

“—eah,” I struggled to say as my voice got caught in my throat.

Hotch took the glass from my hand and set it behind me, crowding what little space I had left. We were tense with anticipation as we both leaned in, giving each other enough time to back out. His nose brushed mine, then his lips, before he was fully pressed against me. His tongue flicked out making me gasp and open mine wider. My hands slid under his sweater, feeling his warm skin beneath my fingers. We stayed like that; exploring, consuming, devouring until there was a pause between us. The was air heavy with desire and our breathing.

As I caught my breath, I reached back and grabbed my glass, taking the opportunity to throw back the last of the liquid. Aaron did the same, keeping his eyes fixated on the way my lips wrapped around the glass. I left my glass on the counter and took his hand, tugging him toward my bedroom. I heard his glass clatter on the counter as he left it behind in a rush to follow me.

I threw him a look over my shoulder and tugged my top off, throwing it off to the side. Aaron didn’t need to be encouraged anymore further and ripped his hand out of mine to follow suit. Clothes and shoes were haphazardly discarded until there was nothing left between us. I barely had time to sift through my drawer for the essentials before he was grabbing me around the waist and tugging me onto the mattress. His mouth reconnected with mine, his fingers digging into the mattress as his hips ground down against mine.

“Fuck me, please,” I panted as soon as our mouths separated.

“Gladly.”

He blindly reached for the condom I tossed near him. Once he located it, his oversized fingers fumbled with the packaging. The task was eventually accomplished with minimal difficulty and only a couple giggles as he accidentally pinched himself. The laughter eased the butterflies in my stomach, and I hoped this wouldn’t fuck up whatever we had going for us prior to tonight.

Aaron quickly snatched the bottle of lube and coated his fingers generously. As his fingers pressed against my entrance, I whined in anticipation and wriggled my hips to get him moving. I watched his eyes flutter shut as he put more pressure, jaw dropping in concentration as he focused. As soon as his fingers breached, he couldn’t help himself.

I felt the wet heat of his mouth descend on me, his tongue swirling and lips sucking on my overly sensitive skin. I was torn between tilting my head back to enjoy the feeling and wanting to watch his mouth work. I finally decided to look down, my breath catching as I saw his eyes already trained on me through his lashes. His cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as he sucked making me reach to grab his hair for any sort of purchase. The noises that came from him were sinful and I eventually had to pull his head away once I felt myself ready.

“Need you, please,” I pulled him up to me, feeling him pull his fingers out gently.

We were both understandably impatient with the mix of alcohol and lust. He reached for a pillow with his clean hand and stuffed it under my hips for a better angle. With one last pass of lube over the condom, I felt the blunt press of him against me.

“I’ve got you,” his breath stuttered as he guided himself inside slowly.

My fingers dug into his shoulders as he bottomed out before moving down his back and urging him to go. I let out a moan of relief as his hips started moving, rocking into me slowly at first. Without warning, his mouth sealed over mine and swallowed the gasp I let out as he sharply thrusted, hitting exactly where I need him to.

“More,” I mumbled against his lips.

Aaron was efficient, even now, and repeated himself until I was a whining mess underneath him. He sat up, making enough space to slip his hand between us. I clenched involuntarily as his calloused fingers stroked me, bringing me that much closer to release.

“You feel so good,” he panted. “Squeeze me again.”

I do as he asked, squeezing around him each time he pulls out. The groans pulled from his chest only added fuel to the fire and I didn’t know how I ever survived without hearing them. My hands couldn’t stay still, moving from gripping his arms to running across his collarbone and chest.

“I’m gonna come, I—” I had cut myself off by bringing Hotch’s mouth back down to mine. My muscles tightened as my release washed over me, fingers digging into whatever I can reach while I clenched around the cock still driving inside me.

Aaron removed his hand from between us, doubling down on his efforts to finish himself. His head tucked into my neck, giving me an even better opportunity to hear Aaron’s moans as he reached his orgasm. His hips stuttered as his release pulsed throughout his body, making him tremble in my arms. When he couldn’t handle the overstimulation anymore, he let himself slip out of me.

He let out a deep hum as we caught our breath, pressing one last kiss to my neck before pushing himself up to his feet. He cleaned himself with a grimace with me not far behind, eager to get the slick substance off my skin. I headed straight back to bed, flopping on the slightly sweaty sheets.

I’m too tired to fix that, I decided.

“I meant it, you can stay,” I mumbled in the dark as I heard his movement pause somewhere between the bed and the bathroom. “Don’t need you getting behind the wheel right now.”

“Mm, thanks,” his sleepy voice returned.

The bed dipped beside me and soon the length of his body was pressed against my back.

A sharp jolt pulled me out of my deep slumber. Through the haze I finally I heard the piercing ringtone of a phone. It’s not mine, I realized as I listen to it a second longer. The bed shifted next to me and frantic footsteps thudded across my floor as Aaron looked for his phone.

If he ended up with a case, it was going to massively suck for his hungover team.

“Hey, Jess,” he answered in a far less panicked tone than his feet originally suggested. “Uh, yea. Yea, one is good. Okay, see you then.”

He came back into the room with a more relaxed posture than when he left. He sat on the edge of the bed on the side I was still curled up on, watching him move with sleepy eyes.

“Just Jessica letting me know she’s dropping off Jack at my place at one,” he relayed.

A quick glance at the clock let me know it was only 10:00 AM, which wasn’t bad considering the night we had.

Aaron's hand found my ankle through the sheets, letting his hand glide up to my calf and back down. His face was contemplative though not as outwardly noticeable as the way I chewed the inside of my cheek.

He spoke first.

“That was,” he started, letting a smirk spread over his features, “fun.”

“It was. I…wouldn’t mind if it happened again.”

“Me either,” he punctuated with a squeeze of my calf.

There was a comfortable silence for a minute until he spoke up again, “I’m just—I'm not really looking to—.” He stopped and started again, “Since Haley died I—I’m just not...”

He didn’t have to explain to me the fact that his ex-wife slash high school sweetheart being murdered had done a number on his psyche. I didn’t blame him.

“I get it, Aaron. I’m not either. I’m way too busy and—I just don’t want to,” I replied. It wasn’t a total truth, but it also wasn’t a total lie. I was too busy but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.

For Aaron, though? I would take what he gave me.

He relaxed a little, his eyes a little sad and I wondered if he could see right through me.

I hope he didn’t.

“I should go,” he murmured, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek while the other side was pressed into my pillow.

When he pulled away, I turned my head to really look at him head on, not expecting him to come back down and kiss me again. This time on my lips, slowly and sensually; a far cry from the desperation last night. When my eyes opened, he was already up and looking for his clothes.

“I’ll see you next weekend?” I rubbed my hands over my face, sitting up as he gets dressed.

He flashed me a look as if to say “obviously” and threw my discarded top at my face.

“Be careful,” I called after him.

“You, too,” he paused, patting his jeans to make sure all of his belongings were in order. When he was satisfied, he gave me a gentle smile and headed in the direction of my front door.

“Lock the door behind me!” he yelled back before opening the front door and shutting it behind him.

I rolled my eyes and flopped back over onto the bed on my side. I still smelled his scent on my sheets and wondered how I could have thought that this would be a good idea.

Ever get the feeling nothing else will do?

I could hear you singing

I can’t explain, I need

Medicine at midnight

But it ain’t no cure

Medicine at midnight howling

But it ain’t no cure

I may be sick but you know I’m yours

-Medicine at Midnight, Foo Fighters

#mentioningmargins #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #gn!reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #Fic: medicine at midnight #my art #hotchner x you #Spotify

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mudcchi · 28 days ago

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⚠ Minor Book 7 ending spoiler - more under the cut

Castle Wildrose Dance Hall

While everyone--including the apparitions of Silver Owls and Nocturnal Fae's armies--were dancing and having fun, the girl retreated a little to the side of the castle near the balcony. Crowds never quite suit her; plus it was midnight and she was getting a little drowsy. Luckily, she found a company who also happened to be lounging around near the balcony of the hall, away from the crowds. One of her favorite company, actually. "Hello, Senpai." His ears twitched as he turned around slightly to face her. "Oh, great, here comes the noisy herbivores." Completely disregarding his sarcasm, she walked closer towards him and followed his eyes outside of the balcony--to the scenery of dark woods and hills, sprawling infinitely under the starry sky. "The view's so beautiful here!" "Hmph. It's nothing but forest as far as the eyes can see… Not much different from Sunset Savanna in that regard." "So basically, it's rather boring for you, huh?" "Yeah," he answered shortly. "But the castle itself isn't half bad… It's an old structure filled with remnants of ancient fae's magic. Maybe I should go on a little sightseeing instead of getting stuck with this boring party. Hoaahm…" He didn't even hold back on his yawn despite being in such a magnificent and dignified hall. Not that anyone even bothered looking at them, though. This elicited a chuckle from the girl, who oddly enough always find his antics amusing. "Why don't you just go and dance with the other herbivores anyway? I'm quite occupied right now." "What, busy looking at the stars like you always do back home?" He answered with a violent tail swishing--a tell-tale sign when he's annoyed, which happened quite frequently with this girl around. "Heheh. Besides, it's not like I can dance…" the girl confessed with a timid expression. "Hah, it's really easy." "But I've never danced before…" She briefly recalled the moment she helped managing the team for VDC. While she couldn't pull it as good as the actual casts who won the second place, she memorized the dance thoroughly and wasn't really bad at it. That's a completely different kind of dance, though. "Weren't you the manager during VDC? I can't imagine that Vil didn't make you join their practice at all. I'm sure you've got the basics drilled in your brain," he said. "Whatever. While we're here, might as well do it the correct way, then." "? What do you mean?" To her surprise, the lion beastman made a deep, graceful bow to her while offering one of his hands.

"May I have the honor to dance with you tonight, Lady?"

Her dusky amethyst eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and astonishment. It's very easy to forget that he's also a prince himself, especially when his usual appearance and demeanor betrayed that very image. "Woah, Senpai really is a prince after all, huh!"

"Just give your damn answer already."

She laughed from his usual sarcasm, something that she constantly found very funny. "Ahaha, sorry, sorry! Umm… 'It would be my pleasure, Your Highness'." She did a curtsy, before placing her hand on his. "How's that?"

"Hmph, not bad for a complete amateur with no training," he gave his usual sharp critique. He placed his hand on her tiny waist and pulled her closer. "Now, put your hand on my shoulder."

"L-like this?" She placed her hand gingerly; their unusually short distance made her a little nervous. Thinking back, probably this is the closest they've been, not counting the time they spent bunched up with everyone while traveling through the dream corridor with Silver.

"Yeah. Next, step forward with your left foot--"

The two waltzed slowly as he continued giving her precise instructions. After repeating the same movements for a couple of times, she started to gain more confidence in her steps.

"See? Not that hard." He flashed his usual smug grin.

"Ehehe, it's all thanks to Senpai's clear instruction!" She smiled in return. "By the way, I never saw you dancing since the start of the party."

"I am now, though?"

"With others, I mean."

"Why would I dance with those people, anyway?" He answered in a dismissive, uninterested tone.

"Huh, but it's okay to dance with me?" She shot back at him.

"What? You've got a complaint about that?"

"Geez, stop answering my question with another question!" She pouted, annoyed.

"Hah, but aren't you doing exactly the same thing?"

"Uuugh…"

All their bantering made her momentarily forgot about her footings and accidentally stepped on his foot.

"Oi, watch your step," He growled in annoyance. "Don't tell me you did that on purpose"

"My bad, my bad! I wasn't concentrating," she apologized sheepishly. "Totally not on purpose… Well, either way I might try to do it on purpose," she added while sticking the tip of her tongue.

"Heh, you sure got some nerves, Herbivore." ---

#twst yume #leona x oc #LeoCia

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desi2go · 2 years ago

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Lonely Night

Idol Bang Chan x y/n

Warnings: slight angst, fight

Author's note: Hello. This is my first entry. I hope you enjoy reading it. If you have any improvements or requests please write them in the comments :-)

Chan and you knew each other for many years. You are a manager of Stray Kids and loved every member. After you fell in love with the leader, Stray Kids became your family.

Chan always worked hard for the group even when that meant to stay all night in the studio to work on their songs. Especially now, when the comeback is just about to happen.

You were understanding and helped him whenever you had time. You stayed also long to answer your emails and to plan Stray Kids concerts and events. After you finished your work, you usually go to your boyfriends studio, so that you can go home together.

As you completed your work for today, you turned off your pc and looked to the clock. It was shortly after midnight as you walked through the hallways to go to your boyfriends studio. You are exhausted from the long day and all you wanted to do now, was driving home with Chan, to eat something of the leftovers and to cuddle with him in bed. You studied Stray Kids schedule, so you knew that they had a rehearsal tomorrow morning at 7 am. You feared that he was overworking himself because of the upcoming comeback and wanted that he takes a break.

Chan was still focused on his pc as you walked into the room. You slowly go to him and lay your hands on his shoulders. Immediately, he took off his headphones and turns to you.

"Hey babe" He greeted you with a tired smile. His curly hair messy because he ran through it so many times.

"Hey Channie" You kissed his temple. "I'm nearly finished. Give me five minutes"

You nodded and sat down on a chair while you waited. Time passed. Almost one hour later Chan was still concentrated on his work. You knew that he would barely sleep that night if you wouldn't stop him overworking himself. So you got up and took his headphones.

"Y/n I'm nearly finished."

"I know, but it's almost 1 am and you have a rehearsal tomorrow morning at 7 am. I think it would be better when you just take a break and get some sleep."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I know my schedule. I don't need to be reminded."

"Yes, but don't overwork yourself Chan" You answered. "I am not overworking myself, Y/n! When I'm finished with that I'll take a break. I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone to tell me what I should and what I shouldn't do."

He looked tired and frustrated. But right now you were angry. You only tried to take care of him. "Chan, I only want to help you!"

" But why don't you see that you aren't helping? I will go home when I have this done." He yelled. You were shocked. Especially when you heard him mumbling: " Gosh, you're so annoying" as he put on his headphones and turned back to the computer.

You barely understood it. But you did. Every single word. You stared at his back, realising what he just said. The anger turned immediately into sadness and disbelief. He never said something like that to you. Sure, you had some fights before. But he never mentioned that he finds you annoying.

With tears in your eyes you walked out of the room. Your boyfriend still focused on the screen in front of him. You go over the conversation again and again. Maybe you are annoying? The only thing you wanted was to get him to rest. He always works and comes home tired without eating something the whole day. You usually bring him food and his favourite snacks so that he eats something when he is at the studio. But maybe I should stop?

You drove back to your apartment. It was 30 minutes away from work that's why you spend most of the time at your boyfriends home because it wasn't that far away from the center. But after that fight, you don't know if Chan wants you there. Maybe it is better for you two, if you give him space, you thought. Even though you missed him. You were used to lay your head on his chest while his hands brush through your hair and to listen to his heartbeat as you fall asleep. You realise that this will be a lonely night.

Part two

#skz angst #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #bang chan #skz x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader angst

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toiletdestroyer3415 · 7 months ago

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I AM SUCH AN EVIL MASTERMIND

so... i had a sleepover with a friend, let's call her Sploinky for the sake of secrecy. I was the only one sleeping over, because everyone else wasn't able to. Sploinky and I watched everyone leave one by one, and all was well. Then, Sploinky goes to get changed into her sleepwear. Then, I realize I have a bag of little guys (those little rubber squishies) that i brought because I wanted to leave them out for her for funsies, just a set number of them for her to find and keep.

Unfortunately for her, I was evil. So evil that I hid all of them around like normal, but instead of telling her, I waited for her to notice. She only noticed after I got done changing myself. Sploinky asks me if I put it there.

I respond "no, but maybe there are more, let's look"

I play dumb. I go looking with her. We find the majority of them. We count 17 of them. We start discussing who might've left them, calculating who was where and who left when and which was most likely to do something like this.

"what an odd number to have," i say, realizing in my own head i hadn't counted them beforehand.

Sploinky agrees and refuses to believe they'd leave them at such a number. I play along. I tell her they come in packs of 15, 18, or 20, according to a Google search on the little squishies.

I watch her frantically search for the remaining one, texting friends left and right, demanding to know who, where, what, when, why and how many could possibly be lurking around her house.

a certain friend, Arrggh, lies and says she did it, and that there are a hundred. They confess to their lie shortly after. Another friend, Lightbulb, answers her call at midnight and laughs. He denies hiding them.

I watch Sploinky fall asleep with a frown on her face, confused and scared as to who would do such a thing. She holds the bag of little guys close and passes out.

In the morning, everything goes as normal. I pack up and prepare to go back home, but I make sure to tell her mom and dad to tell her about my evil plan.

Then, I'm met with this.

Mission complete.

#we're all good now I told her id bring more next time :)

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thewritersofdeceased · 27 days ago

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ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ. sᴀᴍ "sᴘᴀᴅᴇ" ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ | ᴊᴀᴄᴋ "ᴊᴇsᴛᴇʀ" ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ | ᴇᴅᴇɴ "ʜᴇᴀʀᴛs" ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ | ʀᴏʏ "ᴋɪɴɢ" ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ ᴊᴀᴄᴋ, ᴇᴅᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ. ᴛᴡ: ᴀʙᴜsᴇ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

It was midnight. He hadn’t come back yet. Why didn’t Rory come back? In the hands of a young boy, at least eleven, was a little folded up card. One he’d made in art class only hours before. Sam had hope in his eyes, a large smile on his face. He’d been sitting in front of that door for hours. Even doing his homework there, as his bag laid flat besides him. That’s okay! He’s waiting for his big brother! Oh! Maybe Rory was getting them a surprise gift! Maybe that was it!! He’d come back with gifts! He thought.

“Sam, bedtime.” The voice of a woman spoke, but Sam didn’t pay any mind to it until the second time his name had been called. “But Rory hasn’t come back?” Was all he replied with, turning to face his mother with a tilted head. He’d stay up all night waiting for his big brother. “He’ll be home soon, Sammy. Come on.” His mothers voice was gentle, but her pull wasn’t as she tugged Sam up by the arm. “But-” He went to speak, only seeing a cold glare from the older woman in response. “..sorry Mama.” He murmured, following shortly.

It wasn’t hard to find the room that each child resided in, especially with the heart stickers that littered the door itself. Pushing it open, the gentle voices of two kids caught Sam’s attention. And their mother. “Hey, go to bed you two.” The woman’s voice murmured, resulting in what seemed like a huff from Eden. Neither would say a word to the older woman, especially knowing that Sam was here now. “But Sam didn’t tuck us in!” Eden then pointed out, looking at their older brother with a frown. “I got it, mama! They’ll be asleep soon! I promise!”

Jack raised his brow slightly to Eden’s comment, but hummed something in response. Being on the top bunk, he leaned over the railing slightly, looking towards their mother before giving a gentle-like smile to her. “Okay, mama.” He sounded genuine to the woman. Mama’s boy. At least Sam noted. “Love you.” He then murmured, letting himself turn to lay down. But Sam didn’t lay down yet, going over to Eden to tuck the younger girl in. Their mother watched with slightly narrowed eyes before looking at Sam. “Now get some sleep. All of you. I love you.” Sure she did.

When their mother had left the room, Sam had let out a sigh of annoyance. He wanted his big brother. It felt weird without the older boy on the bunk ahead. That didn’t matter. A soft sigh escaped Sam though, as he slipped off his sneakers. He had changed into more comfortable clothing after school, so it made sense that he was wearing sneakers after he went out to play. “..goodnight you two.” He murmured softly, turning off the big light and turning to lay down on the lower part of his and Rory’s bunk beds. He wouldn’t sleep, however.

Soon as both of his siblings were asleep, he was out of the room again. He was glad the floors weren’t as squeaky as others. A soft sigh escaped him as he snuck his way back towards the front door, a blanket trailing along behind him. Like a cape. That made him think of when Rory would play with him. Play knights or anything with royalty. He still had the swords made out of cardboard, in which an idea struck his mind quickly. Draping the blanket over the couch, he quickly turned to run back towards the room, quietly too.

It didn’t take him long to run back to the living room, grab his blanket and hold the two cardboard swords in his hands. He sat back down where he’d been for hours on end, swaying side to side as he stared up at the door. Rory had to have been on his way home by now! He should’ve brought his phone out here with him, but he was already sitting down on the floor below. Sam could’ve called Rory, but he didn’t think about it until now! But it was already late, and his phone was in the room.

Hours went by without being caught. Where was Rory? The last time Sam had lifted his head to look up at the clock that was situated in the living room, it’d been nearing three in the morning. Now the sun was beginning to rise through the windows, casting a golden light. “...where are you, big bro?” He murmured softly, lifting his head to look up at the door. He was tired. Of course he was. He stayed up all night to wait for his oldest brother. But he didn’t come home. Was he hurt? The hospital would’ve called by now.

The sudden sounds of footsteps had quickly caught Sam’s attention though. Shit, he forgot his father woke up early. Quickly standing to his feet and tossing everything onto the couch, he turned to make his way into the kitchen, going as far as to make his fathers coffee the way the older male always did. The footsteps stopped just at the kitchen’s door frame,e resulting in Sam turning to his father. “Good morning, sir-!” He tried to sound awake, but it’s difficult. The older man’s eyes narrowed in response, looking between his son and the coffee being made now.

“Why the hell are you up?” Sam expected that question, but he quickly shrugged his shoulders as a response. “I woke up to see the sunrise, sir.” He responded, fixing his fathers coffee and holding it out to the man, who took it rather quickly. “Well, if you’re already awake, get your ass ready for school, and make it quick, won’t you.” That just meant that he’d get dropped off earlier than his siblings. That’s okay! “Yes sir..” He murmured, turning to make his way back to the room to find his clothes. Though he overheard something sad. “Dumb brat.”

________________

That same day, as soon as Spade got home from school, he went right back to sitting in front of the door, his bag being beside him. In his lap was a folder and science work, his brows furrowed closely together as he stared down at the paper. He’d been biting the top of his pen, trying to figure out this stupid science work. Science was never his strong suit, he was better in history and everything of the sort. He didn’t move from that spot for hours. Again. Waiting for his big brother to come home. He would. Right?

“Sam.” His mother’s voice called out from behind, resulting in the younger boy leaning backwards so his back was against the floor. “Get up. You’re going to get yourself dirty.” Her tone was rather bland, as Sam continued to look up at the woman. “But I’m waiting for Rory?” He murmured softly with a frown forming on his face. He had to wait for his big brother. “He isn’t coming back.” Now the woman’s tone grew colder as she stared down at her son. Sam stared up to her with his frown deepening now. “What do you mean by that?”

Rory was coming back. He had to be coming back. There was no way that Rory would leave him. They were best friends! Right? His mother had to have been lying. Rory wouldn’t leave without a word, would he? He hoped not! “I mean he’s not coming back, kiddo.” Miss. Carter tried to sound as gentle as she could, but she was beyond annoyed that Sam would wait days and days for a boy who left the moment he turned eighteen. “He left us. Such a horrible person, isn’t he?” She spoke, watching as Sam scrambled up to his feet.

“No.. no, you’re lying to me.” Sam denied, shaking his head rather quickly as he stared at the woman with widened eyes. She had to have been lying. Rory cared. Rory would come back. He had to. All of his stuff was here- well. Actually, now that Sam thought about it, he didn’t see the other boys stuff in the room. Maybe blankets and trinkets that's been left on the dressers. Those were still there, of course. But Rory couldn’t have just left out of the blue. “No, kiddo.. It’s the truth. He left yesterday while you were all asleep.”

No. Sam didn’t want to believe that. “All his stuff’s still here, mama. He couldn’t have left.” This couldn’t be the truth. Rory wouldn’t leave without a goodbye. They always said “See you later” to each other when one would leave. This had to have been a lie. A twisted joke or game. He went to pinch himself, letting what seemed like tears begin to form. “You’re lying to me, Rory wouldn’t have left without a goodbye..” He murmured softly, allowing his mother to pull him into her arms. “But he did, baby. Rory left, he isn’t coming back now.”

He had to have come back. He had to. Why would his big brother leave out of the blue? Without a single word? What sounded like hiccups would escape the boy with blue and green eyes, his chest aching in pain. Rory left him. It had to all have been a dream. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to upset his father. He turned mean. Really mean. Though it didn’t take long for the sounds of footsteps to catch his attention quickly. “Shut that boy up.” His fathers voice boomed out, resulting in Sam covering his mouth afterwards.

Mr. Carter had turned mean when he got older and older, but it got worse when he drank. Physically worse. Sam was glad the older man wasn’t drunk as of currently. It was peaceful in a way. “Rory left. Who cares? If he wanted to take you, he would’ve.” His father spoke coldly, making his way to stand taller than his son and wife. “He abandoned you.” Mr. Carter pointed out, resulting in a choked up sob to escape him. “Boys don’t cry.” Sam heard that phrase a thousand times. Boys don’t cry, but he did. Sam cried to Rory.

His eyes were closed tightly at his fathers words, going as far as to cover his ears. It didn’t take long, hell, less than a minute, for the older man to take a tight hold of Sam’s hands and move them. “Don’t ignore me, boy.” His voice had gone cold as he spoke, moving his wifes arms from the boy to pull him by the collar of the shirt. “You do not ignore me when I’m talking to you.” He then pointed out, shoving the boy to the ground and hearing a yelp of pain only mere seconds later then.

“Be a man, Sammy.” That nickname struck for years. Sammy had always been a nickname his father gave him. But it felt more.. Peaceful whenever Rory would use it. He remembered all the times the older boy would patch up his bruises or take care of him. Especially when he got injured or bullied by the older kids in school. They all sucked. He remembered all the times he’d threaten to tell the kids about Rory. Praising the older boy like he was a god. “My big brother will kick your ass!” He’d say. So damn proudly too, he’d add.

Sam sniffled as he wiped his tears, lifting his head slightly to look up at his father. He always had the fear that he’d get hurt. That Mr. Carter would target him like he had with Rory. Maybe this was that time. Maybe he needed a punching bag. Maybe. Sam hoped not as he stood to face his father now. His face was red from the tears that fell down, only sniffles escaping him. “Yes, sir.” Everything was okay. Sam’s okay. He hoped. The sudden glance he saw towards his mother however, put a fear in him. Was she leaving?

Vicky, or Victoria, the siblings mother, hadn’t said a word, but lowered her head and turned to walk away. Sam had reached for her at the sight of her turning away, but was only pulled back by his father. The last thing he remembered was a harsh slap. The stinging feeling to his cheek sent the tears to suddenly form again. “What did I say?” Bill’s voice rang out as he questioned his younger son, staring down at him. Sam had stumbled back onto the ground, holding his cheek with widened eyes. “I’m sorry-” He began to repeat profusely now.

Why? What did Sam do? He just wanted to sit and wait for his older brother to come home. Then he got the news and was told that Rory wasn’t coming home. He was just a kid. Just thirteen. He didn’t even hit highschool yet, he had another year until then. So why? Why was he being put through this? If it meant that his baby siblings didn’t get treated like this, he’d take every hit. Every single one. He could hear his fathers words echoing in his head, the feeling of being kicked in the ribs only seconds after.

That would bruise. The mark of his fathers hand would be visible. He had to act like everything was fine. Everything would be okay. He hoped. He took the kicks and hits, being pulled up after what seemed like hours. “Go to your room, brat.” Bill’s voice held venom in it before he shoved Sam towards the room, watching his son stumble. The younger boy didn’t reply at all, but limped slightly to the room. Here he only hoped Jack and Eden hadn’t been awake for it all. He’d probably go into the bathroom and sob. Enjoy the silence there.

Pushing open the door and stumbling still, Sam knew he had to clean the room. He’d work on that after. Toys littered the floor, and beds had to be made in order for it to look decent. He’d do that soon. His head felt like a train had just struck him, alongside with his ribs and that aching feeling he had. He could just sleep this horrible dream off. He hadn’t slept all night. Waiting, Praying. Begging for his big brother to come home. How lucky Rory was to get out of the house. Why didn’t he take Sam with?

________________

The next day while walking to school, Sam could remember being pushed to a wall outside by a group of older kids, dirty smiles and expressions that held a violent glare in them. Socs. Rich kids. The kind of kids he had been warned about and even warned his siblings about. Ones that he told Rory about. Ones that picked on him. “Hiya, grease.” The main guy, whose name he couldn’t remember, spoke up. It was five on one. He was just trying to get to school. He took a shortcut this time. Stupid kid. That went through his head.

“I’m not in the mood to fight, please-” Sam murmured, his head lowered. But he had gotten his face grabbed, forcing his head up and to make eye contact with the ring leader. No, no, no. He could see the glimmer of a blade, the shiny silver that one of them held. No. He couldn’t fight back. Or he’d be able to get a battery charge. He didn’t have the money to deal with that. It would’ve even been self-defense, he’d claim. These boys always messed with him, teachers and staff knew that. Yet they wouldn’t do anything about it.

The ringleader held a narrowed eye look, adjusting his rings. “I don’t care whether you’re in the mood to fight or not, Sammy.” Hearing the nickname come out of this boy's mouth made a scowl form on Sam’s face, especially with how the boy said it. “Don’t call me that.” Sam’s voice huffed out as he made direct eye contact with the rather taller boy. Sam hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, so compared to the boys, he was still shorter. “And why not? It’s not like you have your big brother to protect you this time, freakazoid.” That’s it.

The moment his fist made contact with the ringleaders jaw was the first time Spade got into a full-fleshed fight. He remembered shoving the guy straight down to the ground and pinning him down. Repeatedly punching him straight in the face. To the point his buddies, the socs, had to pull him off. “Don’t ever mention my fucking brother!” Sam snapped at the older boys, his chest rising and falling at a harsh paces. Could you blame a boy for getting defensive? No. “But it’s the truth. He ain’t around to protect-” The bastard got cut off by another punch.

By the time the fight had ended, the two boys looked like they just came from a damn murder. Surely, the soc’s nose was broken and he had a black eye. Sam’s fists were all bloodied and his knuckles were bruised. He stood to his feet finally, being pulled back by the security guard of the school. His expression held beyond anger, his fists remaining balled. “Fucking maniac!” The richer boy shouted, watching as Sam tried to send a kick to his ribs. “Sam Carter!” The voice of a teacher had shouted, but Sam didn’t care. He was beyond pissed.

Nobody got to mention his big brother and get away with it. Especially not a damn soc. Not someone who had good parents. He held a narrowed eyed look as he stared at the boy on the ground, spitting down on him seconds. “Drop dead.” He grumbled coldly, being tugged off by the security guard and teacher. “You, young man, are going to be expelled for a long time.” He recalled the teacher grumbling. Not like he cared. He did it for a reason. A damn well good one, would he add. Never talk shit about someone’s family. Never. NEVER.

________________

Going home after learning about the suspension was probably the worst idea Sam had. Soon as he stepped foot in the house, he’d been shoved against the slammed closed door. “What the fuck were you thinking!?” His father shouted, staring Sam straight into the eyes with a look of violence. The same one that the socs had shared. “They were bringing up Rory!” Sam retorted back, holding his fathers wrists as an attempt to keep the man from practically strangling him. “I had to defend him!” He then snapped at the older man, who scoffed. “He’s not coming back, dumbass!”

“How the fuck do you know!? You didn’t care about him, you damn drunk!” Sam never stood up for himself. Especially against their father. Sure, he was snappy, but he always shut up only a couple seconds after. Not anymore. “You’re the reason he probably left!” He then snapped, feeling his father pull him close before slamming his back into the door behind him. “Do not talk like that to me, asshole!” Bill wasn’t even drunk. No. He was sober. This time. “You don’t get to act like you run this shit now that Rory’s left!” He snapped out. Uhoh.

Sam remained dead silent for a couple of seconds… At least up to a couple minutes. There was a debate going on in his head before he went through with his emotions and the anger he held deep within him. Within those couple of seconds, he bashed his head against his fathers, resulting in the man letting go of him and taking a couple steps backwards. “You’re not telling me what the hell I can or can’t say!” Sam snapped back, watching his father deeply. What was he going to do? And why did it leave Sam beyond terrified now?

Sure, he knew he messed up, but Sam was also angry and scared. No child should have to live in fear, let alone with the people who are supposed to love and care for you. Not be afraid of and prepared to fight. The last thing that Sam could remember fully from that night was being punched in the head. And eye. And possibly kicked in the ribs, he couldn’t remember if he’d gone down with it. He probably did. Oh well. He didn’t recall his fathers words either, but he saw the look on his mothers face seconds after.

Why was she just standing there? Really? She didn’t even try to stop her husband. Sam lay on the ground, clutching where his ribs were before feeling one final kick, this time to his hand. It resulted in only a groan of pain. He hoped nothing was broken, and if it was, he wouldn’t go to the hospital. That place sucked anyway. “Never try standing up to me.” Bill spoke coldly, adjusting his sleeves before turning to walk towards his and Victoria’s bedroom, with her following seconds after. Sam didn’t reply. He just watched from where he’d lay. Dead silent.

That’s when he made up his mind. Once he graduated, he was out of there. He could get his liscense at sixteen with the money he’d been saving up. It’d help him in a way. And even thought, Sam could hold his own. He could hold his own without any help. He didn’t need any stupid adult figures anymore. HIS already left without a single damn word. Whatever. Rory left. Sam didn’t care. At least not anymore. Using the door behind him as a way to get up, he stumbled slightly, hissing out in a sudden pain. “Fucking- old.. Bastard.”

Those were the words that escaped him as he began to stumble his way towards his and the “twins” bedroom. But what if they were doing work? Or playing? He couldn’t let them see him like this. Weak. His fists were still bloodied from the blood of that boy's face, Jacob was probably his name, now that he remmebered it. Not that he cared, really. It wasn’t his problem at this point. Gently knocking, he pushed the door open. No children. They were probably somewhere in the house and he just didn’t notice. Long as they’re okay. All that matters.

He took a couple of shaky breaths in and out, allowing himself to try and relax. He would occasionally look back towards the door, as to keep his younger siblings from seeing him so messed up looking. So.. monstrous, maybe. He searched his drawers specifically, taking out gauze and bandages he had stolen a while ago from the school. Yeah, he broke into it and stole this shit from the nurse's office, sue him. It was better than breaking into a pharmacy and doing it. He remembered trying to break in, it’s difficult with a security guard and K9 unit.

Plus, the Nurse’s had enough money to get more gauze and bandages anyway. It wasn’t like they cared. All they’d do was tell you to put an icepack on it and send you to lay down on those really uncomfortable beds. Now those were actual hospital beds. Leaning forward slightly, Sam didn’t let go of his pained lower chest, trying to ignore that achey feeling he got there. His chest was heavy with every breath he took, making it difficult to breathe. It’s okay. Sam’s okay. Everything’s fine. He’d cover up an eye. At least one of them had to.

With everything he deemed he needed, Sam made his way into the bathroom rather quickly, only stepping out a quick moment to go get an ice pack. He was as quiet as he humanly could be. He didn’t want to get caught. And he sure as hell didn’t want his mothers help. No. She just watched as he got his ass handed to him. Didn’t even try to stop it. She was just as bad as their father, now that Sam was noticing. A low grumble escaped him as he closed the bathroom door, staring at himself in dead silence.

“...why?” He murmered as he stared. The silence was unnerving. As he stared at himself, he began to nitpick at everythingthat plagued his mind. Why did he even start that fight? Would Rory have done the same for him? Where did he go? All these questions went through Sam’s head, and it was clear they would forever be unanswered. He wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Pressing the ice pack, that was now in a soft face cloth, against his eye, Sam grew dead quiet again. His mind was racing. He couldn’t explain any of this to anyone. Nobody would listen.

Let alone the school if they found out the truth. Sam didn’t want to deal with child protection servies. They probably wouldn’t even care. He wouldn’t be surprised there either. If they did come, they’d split up his siblings from him. He didn’t want that to happen. He continued to stare himself dead in the eyes in the mirror, his expression blank and his eyes cold. He wanted to go home. Back when everything was okay. When it’d just been a happy family. Why did everything have to change? Nobody deserves this. Not even Sam’s worst enemy. Not anyone, no.

________________

It’d been about a year since that incident. Now it was the summer before his freshman year in highschool, not that he was complaining. They were supposed to go to the beach. But Sam was scared. As those past two years between 7th and 8th grade passed, so did the abuse he went through with Bill. You could say he turned into a physical punching bag. Whenever Bill needed to lead out anger, Sam would take the punches in order to keep Eden and Jack safe from the pain he went through. He couldn’t let them edal with this either.

As of now, he had bruises that littered his arms. Which… wasn’t fun. Sam sat silently in the shade of the beach, a jacket on his shoulders and a towel over his legs. A girl had looked towards him, in which he hadn’t even noticed. He was reading something, probably a book of mystery or true crime. His father wasn’t around for once, but his mother was sunbathing quietly whilst keeping a watchful eye on Jack and Eden. The girl took a couple of seconds as she stared at Spade, making her way over only a couple of seconds later.

“Hey.” She greeted softly, now standing in the shade. She’d been in simple shorts, a bathing suit top and had a couple bits of jewelry she had to take off. She was pretty in Sam’s eyes, but he didn’t make any comments at first. He had lifted his eyes more than his head, focusing himself back into his book. “..I’m Courtney.. What’s your name?” The girl then asked, watching Sam closely. He didn’t reply until a couple of seconds went by. “Sam.” He murmured aloud, adjusting his jacket so none of the bruises would be revealed to this strange girl.

He lifted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing at her as he then spoke up. “Why are you talking to me?” He didn’t mean to sound rude or offputting. It wasn’t his intention, but he’d been invested in the book he was reading. Courtney stared down at him, like she was trying to come up with an answer. “Well, I saw you were sitting alone, that’s all.” She then explained, shrugging her shoulders before crossing her arms. Okay, maybe Sam would admit she’s pretty. Maybe not out loud, and sure as hell not right now. Not with his mother around.

“Oh. Well, I’m fine. Thanks.” Sam murmured out as he lowered his head. Courtney grew quiet for a couple of seconds, like she was going deep into her mind to search for something to say. “Say- why don’t you join me in the water?” She then asked, kneeling down so she could sit on her knees. That’s okay. Sam didn’t mind, really. She wasn’t as talkative as he thought she’d be. “I don’t swim.” He’d then reply to her suggestion, letting out a sigh. He was calling bluff, he could swim, he just preferred not to. Not with the bruises.

Courtney’s brow raised slightly in response, trying to figure out whether it was a lie or not that the boy was claiming. “Come on, I can teach you then!” She then suggested moving to stand to her feet and stretch. “Courtney-” Sam murmured softly, placing the bookmark into the book, letting out a low sigh seconds after. “Why are you set on this? I don’t understand.” He muttered, lifting his head to make eye contact with the brunette girl. Courtney huffed slightly, her arms crossing slightly. “Because you seem cool and interesting?” She then questioned, tilting her head slightly after.

“...Okay.. fair.” Sam murmured under his breath, placing his book down into the bag he had brought and standing to his feet only a couple of seconds later. “Fine, I’ll go in the water with you.” He’d then speak, now standing and making direct eye contact with Courtney, who appeared to be smiling wide, one he had spoken up about going into the water. He could swim fine. Everyone knew that. But he didn’t want to admit to the girl that he was scared of being judged for his bruises. “Here- uh- wait a second.” He murmured, avoiding eye contact.

He had turned to look away from the girl, slipping off the jacket he wore that allowed his arms to be revealed. The towel he’d been using to cover his legs were now dropped down alongside his stuff, resulting in the bruises being noticeably visible. Courtney hadn’t said anything when she turned to look at the boy, but she did have one thing in mind. Whatever happened, he didn’t deserve it. Though, she called out with a smile before running ahead. “Last one to the water’s a laser!” She shouted before running off, Sam chasing after only mere seconds later.

________________

That hour had been the first time anyone actually listened to him like that. He felt like he could talk to Courtney about anything. Hell, it turned out, they went to the same school and even had the same lunch! He didn’t have to sit alone anymore, that’s a plus in his eyes! So, once freshman year had started, and the two had met up, they discussed scheduling! Seeing what classes they had, lunch, everything of the sort! Sam had a friend that wasn’t his big brother or baby siblings. He had someone his age. Though it didn’t last long.

Weeks had gone by since the first week of freshman year, it had to have been around October, preferably the last week of it, actually. Halloween this year had been on a Thursday, and they didn’t have school the next day. Sam remembered being in the bathroom getting all his SFX makeup off when his phone rang and caught his attention rather quickly. He could remember the call like the back of his hand. It read Courtney’s name, of course. He didn’t hesitate once to pick up the call. Especially when it’d come to his best friend calling around midnight.

“Court, hey! Are you alright?” He was quick to ask the girl, which only resulted in silence for a couple of seconds before her voice rang out. “Yeah- yeah, I’m okay.” She confirmed, allowing Sam to let out a sigh he’d been holding in. “Um.. can I tell you something?” She then asked, which began to set off the alarms in Sam’s head. He took a couple of seconds to stop him from worrying too much before he’d reply to the girl. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” His voice wavered slightly before the next three words hit him like a truck.

“I’m moving soon.” What? No, it had to have been a joke. Sam’s only friend was leaving town, and during Freshman year? No, it had to have been another joke. He already lost his big brother, he couldn’t lose anyone else. He tried to play it off with laughter, going as far as to pinch himself and see if it was a dream. No. “What?” He questioned, his voice breaking slightly. Fuck, boys don’t cry. Remember that. He was quick to force his voice to not break. “You can’t be leaving. High School just started.” He then tried to explain.

Courtney couldn’t be leaving. Sam couldn’t be abandoned again. “I have to. My dad got a better job upstate.” That made him freeze. Upstate? Like.. “Up in New York.” Motherfucker. Sam should’ve known it was higher up. Of course it’s New York. Of all places. The place the rich folks go. “...Will you ever come back?” Sam would then ask, hearing a sigh from the other side of the phone. That sigh gave him the answer he needed before the girl even could. “Probably not, huh?” He’d ask, earning no answer. “It’s fine. It’s whatever.” It wasn’t fine. He knew.

“Sam, you know I don’t want to leave you. But I don’t have a choice.” Courtney then explained, allowing a sigh to escape her. Sam was losing everybody. He already lost Rory, mind as well lose everybody else. That’s okay. He didn’t blame anyone for leaving. They had their reasons. Rory did. Of course Rory did. He had every right to leave. Especially after everything that happened with their father. He stayed in the bathroom a tad bit longer, but the sudden sound of heavy footsteps scared the shit out of him. Okay, maybe he snuck off to a party.

His eyes went wide almost immediately, quickly hushing his tone before explaining to Courtney. “Hey, hey- I gotta go. I’m sorry- call me later.” He spoke quickly, hanging up before the footsteps stopped. His father was home. Shit. That wasn’t gonna be fun. And with the stomping, it was noticeable that his father was drunk. How much fun was that gonna be. The footsteps had originally stopped outside of the bathroom, making Sam freeze up completely. It didn’t take long until the door was opened and his father stood in front of him with a practical death glare. Fuck off.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Was the only question that lingered in the air for a couple of seconds. Sam hadn’t worn a shirt with his costume, as all over his chest were very detailed SFX scars that looked almost real. He had a black jacket over them, black and red ripped jeans, and a pair of black combat-platform boots. He had contacts in, white ones specifically, but his eyes were widened even as his father spoke. “You look like a fucking hooker.. Always knew one of you were a fag..” He was drunk. He didn’t mean anything here.

Sam wasn’t a hooker. God no. Though, he understood why some people were. His tone would grow cold as he spoke, making direct eye contact with his father as he took out his eye contacts. “I’m not a damn hooker.” He was getting defensive. Mr. Carter took note of that. “Dammnnn right you are.. Look at you.. Asking for people to try and get ahold of ya..” Mr. Carter’s voice was cold before he spoke again. “What’s with all those scars on ya.. You want them?” He’d ask, reaching into his pockets for a second or so. “Don’t touch me.”

Mr. Carter had raised a brow slightly, but of course, he didn’t listen to his son's words. With one swift movement, he had Sam’s chest pressed against the counter, the sound of whatever had been on the counter falling and landing by their legs. “Don’t tell me what the hell I can or can’t do.” Seems he knew what he was doing. His expression was cold, but Sam couldn’t tell. What he did know, was even with his cheek pressed against the counter, he could see a small blade being taken out from the mirror. “Dad- dad, come on, man-”

“Shut it.” The older man commanded, turning so Sam’s back was against the counter. With the small blade held tightly in firm hands, he slowly began to trace it along his son’s chest, digging deeper and deeper every time. Every cut would only make a sudden sound of pain and the occasional curse. “Dad, dad please-” He begged, trying to ignore the blood that began to drip from the scars his father provided. “Please, please-” He was begging. Sam never begged to be left alone. Mr. Carter moved the knife for a moment, before dragging it down Sam’s chest again.

It wasn’t until about ten minutes had passed that the blade was placed back in his fathers pocket. He was breathing heavily, tears slowly forming in his eyes. Holy fuck did it burn badly. His chest was heavy as it rose and fell with each breath of pain he took in. Sam didn’t deserve this, no. He really didn’t. Bill wouldn’t say a word as he stared down at his son, taking a lighter out of his pocket only mere seconds later. Sam didn’t understand. What did he actually do wrong this time? He wondered, though that did’t last long.

The feeling of the lighter’s flame being pressed against his skin. It hurt like hell, of course. He didn’t scream or cry this time, hell, he didn’t even beg for the older man to stop. There was no point. He wouldn’t stop if his life depended on it. The burning was something new, and so were the scars that were soon to litter his chest. Shit, he didn’t have gauze or bandages to cover it up. Maybe he could with a binder or something. Anything to keep his baby siblings or anyone else from seeing it. This was genuinely horrible.

His eyes closed slightly as he leaned his head back, trying to keep calm. That calm feeling didn’t last very long before he felt his father grab him by the hair. There were no spoken words between the two, but he remembered his nose aching like hell only seconds after that. You know when people lift their knees and knock their openents face down? That’s what had happened. Sam stumbled back against the counter, even if that’s where he’d been the whole time. His eyes by now had opened once again, staring at his father with genuine fear and hatred.

“What the actual FUCK did I do!?” He then snapped, pushing the older man away. He was genuinely upset now. He had to get out, and he knew he could. Sam had speed and a bit of body strength, especially since he used the highsschool's gym to work out. “Genuinely! It isn’t my fault Rory left!” He snapped out, his tone laced with violence before he pushed his father back. He knew he didn’t have full upper body strength due to the scars that now littered his chest, but he pushed his father back at ful force. “Fucking abusive prick!”

He knew his father would try to fight again, but Sam wouldn’t let the man lay another hand on him. Not anymore. He knew it was his freshman year and everything, but he didn’t want to deal with this shit for another three years. But he had to. To protect Jack and Eden. Just like Rory had once before. Before he had left. Sam’s thoughts were right as his father did try to swing again, but to no avail was contact made. Sam had moved out the way rather quickly, the sound of glass being the only thing being heard.

Crazy to say Sam felt no pity when he’d heard his father scream out in pain from punching the mirror. He didn’t feel any pity or any sympathy. Maybe don’t be an abusive asshole and your son won’t learn self-defense against you. With the older man focusing on the glass that was probably, most definitely in his hand, Sam was quick to slip out of the bathroom and slam the door shut behind him. He saw the look his mother had passed by, but he didn’t say a word. A cold glare was all he had done before walking off.

Sam was cautious to enter the shared bedroom he had with his baby siblings, especially with the fact his chest was all bloody and the cigarette burns. He still had his jacket, so he quickly wrapped himself up, zipping it only seconds later. He wasn’t leaving per say, but he did need to get out of the house for now. He had two spots he could go to in order to take a breather. There was an abandoned school about a 40 minute walk away, and then there was the park. Thankfully, his parents didnt’ care to get his location.

The twins seemed asleep, but Sam couldn’t tell as he quietly entered the room. Good. He turned his phone flashlight on, holding tightly as he got what looked like a bag together. He wasn’t staying out late, but just for a little bit. His keys were attached to his school lanyard, he wouldn’t let them out of his sight. He grabbed his headphones too, letting out a low sigh. He was dead silent as he got everything together, allowing himself to focus on everything he needed to grab. Headphones, check, phone, check, keys? Check. Everything would be fine. He’s okay.

They’d be okay. If anything, his phone was on and he could get calls. As he pondered whether to go out the window or not, he thought of something. Someone more to say. His head would shake as huffed in annoyance. He could climb back in, it wasn’t like it was difficult. And if anything, front door and keys. He looked between his baby siblings, at least from where they’d laid. Murmuring under his breath, he looked for a piece of paper and a pen. Thankfully, they had tape. So, quickly, he taped a letter to their door. “Be back.”

He promised. He wouldn’t leave them. So, after taping that little letter, Sam was gone. Climbed out the window and down onto the ground below. A noise of discomfort had escaped him upon doing so, resulting in him taking a couple of seconds to make sure he was okay. He was. No broken bones. He couldn’t handle going to the hospital. Beginning to shuffle himself away from the house, once he had hit a certain street, he was gone. Like the wind took him. Once he ran, it was like nobody could catch him. Not even his oldest brother could.

________________

Sam wasn’t lying when he said it’d take about 40 minutes to get to that abandoned school. Between running, jogging and walking, he was still in excruciating pain. His body was ashen, pale by the time he had gotten there. He took shaky breaths, the cold water bottle that’d been in his bag finally being opened. Everything’s okay. He kept repeating that to himself. Maybe he should’ve walked up to Windrixville. Nobody went to that abandoned church, but he’d have to come home eventually. Missing Children cases never often were good for the parents. Not like his would care, right?

Upon getting to the abandoned school. Sam was dead silent. It was dark, but that’s okay. Sam had fixed the lighting one way or another when he came here with Rory. With his big brother. That gave him an idea. Surely, Rory would pick up the phone if he called, right? He hoped so. Hopping over the fence tht blocked Sam off from the actual school, he was careful when hopping down. He landed with a sudden huff, allowing himself to catch his breath before standing to his feet and turning to make his way into the school seconds after.

He’d stare down at his phone for a couple of seconds, like he was processing if he should call his big brother. Maybe. It was at least a minute or two before he clicked the call option, but all it did was ring. Ring and ring. He let it ring for a couple of seconds, but nobody answered. So, he called again! “Come on, Roro-” He grumbled under his breath, running a hand through his hair whilst pacing in front of the stairs that lead upstairs. “Pick up.. Pick up..” He wanted his big brother to pick one. One time.

Maybe just this one time Rory would pick up. “C’mon, big bro..” He didn’t want to beg or plead. He wanted his big brother to pick up one time. Just one! Sure, it’d been a year or so since Rory had left, but- it’s better than nothing, to be fair. It continued to ring and ring. But still, no answer. “Okay.. maybe he’s just busy! Yeah, he’s busy.” He murmured softly, placing his phone into his pockets and flipping on the lights. Everything’s fine. The lights were bright at first, but his eyes adjusted to them seconds after. It’s fine.

Everything is okay. Y’know. Maybe he was just busy! Sam thought so. He looked around the area, trying to keep his cool. This place had bandages, he made sure to stock up on them. So, Sam made his way towards the former nurses office, trying to keep his cool as he tried to keep calm. His wounds were killing him, the scars on his chest now slowly easing when it came to the blood. He was glad nobody came here. He really wanted to make this place a hideaway. The main doors were heavy, but Sam always got it eventually.

Making his way into the former Nurse’s office, he remembered restocking. Hey, maybe he could buy some paint and fix this place up. That’d be pretty cool, he thought. Every so often, Sam took his phone out of his pocket. No call. No message. Damn. He would frown, and then go right back to wrapping his chest with the bandages and gauze. He didn’t mind the silence, but it drove him crazy slightly. So, with one hand still holding the gauze and bandages, the boy would use his partially free hand to put on his music, playing from spotify thankfully.

________________

It’d been years since then. He was finally a senior. Class of 2023. See, Sam was graduating at seventeen, as he was born in July. That’s okay. He didn’t mind it really. He got to spend his birthday at home a lot. Not like he had money to really spend out in the town or even anything of the sort. Not after buying his truck, at least. He’d been working during the afternoon, tutoring some folks and getting paid for it. Sam was a smart kid, it made sense he was getting paid for tutoring some kids after school hours.

But here he was. The annoyingly uncomfortable graduation gown being worn on top of a comfortable, yet formal outfit. He looked decent. The gown was disgusting, an itchy feeling. It was scratchy. He hated it. Everything about it, actually. He was silent as he waited for his name to be called, looking around for any one in his family. But he was looking for one person specifically. Rory. He was looking for Rory. He knew his parents weren’t going to show up. He was looking for his big brother. Rory had to come. Right? Their parents wouldn’t, so maybe Rory would step up and be the brother to replace those two old pathetic bastards around.

Why did he get his hopes up? Sam should’ve known Rory wouldn’t have shown up. He should’ve expected it. Walking across that stage and hearing not many cheers wasn’t a surprise. So, he only gave a small grin to the principal, who shook his hand and gave him the diploma. He stared at the audience for a couple seconds, trying to figure out if anyone he knew had actually shown up. But nobody. Nobody had shown up. Not his parents, not Courtney, nobody showed up.

That wasn’t surprising in the slightest. He stayed dead silent, continuing to look at the crowd. The worst part was when the whole thing was over, and the caps had been thrown high in the air. The sound of people cheering and congratulating one another, parents going off to congratulate their children, pictures being taken. Sam didn’t have anyone, really. Sure, he had a couple teachers who’d be proud of him, but otherwise, that was it. Not like he cared. He went into a quiet spot, leaning against a wall and allowing himself to relax. He wouldn’t cry. That’s weak.

It was silent. The area he’d been in was dead silent, and he personally enjoyed it. It was away from the families, away from everyone who had a reason to be happy. Sam didn’t get that same happiness. Moving the gown and allowing it to be almost like a cloak, he tried to remain calm and collected. Though he took his phone out of his pocket, searching for one specific number in particular. Rory’s. He took a couple of seconds to debate if he should actually call the older boy, before all he heard was ringing. “Pick up for once..”

It rang… and rang.. And rang. It rang until all Sam remembered was hearing that annoying buzzing of the phone. “Please leave a message at the tone.” That automatic voice. Of course he didn’t pick up. Why did he always have that hope in the bottom of his stomach and that hopeful feeling in his heart? Rory would never come back. It’d been years and he never came back, not even once. Fine. Whatever. He stared at his phone, before finally speaking whilst trying to sound as calm as he humanly could. But.. he missed his brother, truly. He did.

“..Hey Rory. If this is even your number anymore.” His words paused for a moment or so before he spoke again. “I graduated. Finally.” He was trying to think of words, running a hand through his hair and biting at his tongue. “I hope you’re proud. Even if you didn’t show up, you're probably busy, right?” His voice broke slightly. Quivering mostly. He wasn’t going to cry just yet. He wasn’t a baby. “I wish you came to graduation. Wherever you are. But it’s okay! Mom and dad didn’t come either. Nor did Jack and Eden, It’s okay! I’m okay.”

He wasn’t. Sam wasn’t okay. He was shattered. His eyes were closed as he felt the waterworks beginning to form. He couldn’t cry. Pshh, no.. He wouldn’t cry. It was May, maybe he could just blame allergies. That made more sense. As a couple seconds went by, he then spoke again. “Hope to see you again. Really, I do. I mean-” That’s when his voice broke. When the thoughts began to pick in. “I mean, unless you left because of me-” The tears then began to fall. Fuck, man. He wasn’t supposed to cry. He was a big kid. Right?

“...miss you alot, Rory. Call back.. Hopefully.” He then hung up, allowing his arms to fall to his side. He remained against the wall, before allowing himself to slide down it. The tears fell and fell until he couldn’t breathe any more. Until his chest had that aching and heavy feeling in them. Why was he crying? Because he was weak. That’s right. Sam would admit he was weak when it came to his emotions. He would cry to Rory, but since the oldest left, he bottled everything up for years on end now. Not even breaking down around anyone.

If he had to cry, he made up an excuse. “Oh no, It’s just allergies.” Was his main one. Allergies or He yawned and his eyes got all teary. Seemed to work a lot in his favor. He’d then excuse himself and go somewhere quiet, or a bathroom if he was around too many people. Sometimes he didn’t understand why Rory left, but then he’d remember. As a kid, at least when he first found out Rory left, Sam’s only thought was that he had been to blame. Okay, maybe their father had begun implanting that into his mind everyday.

Rory had a fair enough reason to leave. But now that Sam was reaching eighteen, he could leave too. He could run away and nothing would happen. He’d be the legal age to move out if he wanted to. Maybe he would. But he didn’t want to leave Jack and Eden behind. He didn’t want to. But he couldn’t last another day in that household. He would for a couple more months. But as he neared closer and closer to eighteen, he would be gone. Gone and to never look back. Unless his siblings called. Then he’d come running back.

Sam wiped his eyes after sitting in silence for a bit, the sound of cars beginning to catch his attention. People were leaving, finally. So, after getting up and using the wall behind him, he began making his way back towards the field. A couple teachers, upon seeing him, congratulated him. He only replied with a soft “thank you” or a nod of the head. Like he didn’t want to talk. Which he didn’t. He didn’t want to verbally speak to anyone. He searched his pockets for his keys, allowing soft sighs to escape him occasionally. Time to go home.

Like he even wanted to. But his baby siblings were home. Fuck, his baby siblings were home alone. The realization struck him like a truck. His slow pace had turned into a jog, then from a jog to a slow run. Soon as his feet hit the pavement sidewalks outside of the field, it turned into an instant run. His truck wasn’t far, especially with how fast Sam had been running. He wanted to get home quickly now, especially with the fact Jack and Eden were home and dealing with their dad alone. How stupid was Sam to forget that?

________________

After everything that had happened at graduation, Sam had been spending more time trying to keep his younger siblings out of the house. Saving up money from work to take them out to go eat, going to the arcade and drive in, anything that keeps them from being in that house. Right now, he had around $300, splitting it between the three of them. He’d been saving money from work for a while, especially after getting his truck. So, what better time than to take these kids to the mall to get them whatever they wanted? Literally anything they wanted.

He was quiet as he walked in the middle of the two, looking between them both occasionally. He was quiet for a couple seconds, listening to the bustling noises of the mall, kids playing in that little play-place, the smell of the food court, things like that. He had a bit on his card too, opting to use that to order food and keep the physical cash for clothing or anything else his baby siblings wanted. “How about we get food first before anything?” Sam suggested seconds after, looking between the two walking alongside him. Made sense in his mind.

The younger two looked between one another, before Eden had spoken up with a smile as wide as the room. “YEAH!” Eden always seemed to be the more loud of the two, not that Sam would complain. He enjoyed the contrast between his younger siblings. “We all cool with pizza?” Sam then questioned, moving so the three wouldn’t be in the way of anybody before looking at them. He already knew one thing for sure, Jack preferred cheese. So he’d probably get a split cheese and whatever kind Eden wanted. He’d get his own, he could devour a whole one.

“Ooo, ooo! Can we get cheese, can we get cheese!” Eden suggested, tapping Sam’s arm a multitude of times. Now he wasn’t surprised there. So he’d get a cheese pizza for those two, and pepperoni for him. Worked well in his favor. “Yeah, we can. That's alright with you, Jack?” He questioned, looking down at his younger brother, who stared up at him for a couple of seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” He’d been focused on sketching as they stood. Probably sketching something random or whatever seemed to be in his vision. Sam didn’t mind. He liked seeing Jack’s art.

Sam hummed in response, looking between the two before again, beginning to lead the way to go to the food court. The line wasn’t too long, as most people were probably at the movies watching whatever the hell seemed to have been playing. Not that Sam cared, he preferred older movies anyway that would play at the drive-ins. Movies like Heathers, Clueless, things with cowboys, Grease. Whatever the hell was playing and was older was what he’d sit through. Unless Jack and Eden wanted him to watch something with them. Maybe then would he sit through a different movie genre.

“Ooo, oo! Sam, Sam! Can we go there after!” Eden spoke, tugging on Sam’s sleeve and pointing towards this store that seemed to be on the richer side of the mall. “Eden, you’ve got $100 to your name. I don’t even think we have the money to step into that place.” Sam commented, looking down at the younger girl as he made his way towards the line, keeping Jack and Eden close to him. He didn’t trust people, especially when it came to public spaces. He’d read enough about people in true crime documents. So, he kept the two close.

After eating their food at the food court, Sam was back to leading the way to one specific store. It was like a build-a-bear, honestly.. It was one. Some malls had build-a-bears, okay? “Here, go make a little bear-thing. But let me do the voices, okay?” He spoke between the two, looking down at them both with a gentle smile. The answer of being able to make a plushie had made Eden grin widely, nodding her head rather quickly as she had already turned to go and choose a plushie. “This store is childish.” Jack murmured, but walked off anyway.

Sam raised his brow slightly, but eh, it’s whatever. He made sure he could still keep Eden and Jack in his vision, but he was looking for a plushie too. It wasn’t for him, he’d claim. He was looking for a stupid little moth. One with reds and whites specifically. Sue him, he was getting something for his big brother, even if he’s not around. Whatever. He was quiet when he was looking, occasionally lifting his head and looking towards where he could see his siblings. Jack was just looking at accessories, whilst Eden was looking for a perfect plushie.

Why was he getting something for Rory? Good question, Sam didn’t have an answer as he grabbed a moth plushie and went to find a worker. This would probably blow his money, but hey, long as the twins were happy and he got something for his big brother, he’d be fine. Whilst he spoke to a worker on how exactly to do this whole thing, he watched his younger siblings closely. He took note of a certain plushie his own eyes landed on, making an idea pop into his head. He’d get Jack a plushie only a couple seconds after.

“Sam, Sam!” The voice of the younger of the twins called out, resulting in Sam looking over. Eden had a large smile plastered on her face, resulting in Sam holding a confused look for a couple of seconds, like he was processing. “You said call you over when it came to the talking stuff!” She then explained, resulting in Sam actually snapping into focus and making his way over quickly. “Right, right. Sorry, kiddo.” He apologized, looking at the worker with a gentle smile. “Cover your ears, okay? I want this to be a surprise for you.” He then explained.

He watched as his younger sister covered her ears, going over to this “Record Your Voice Station” to make a stupid little message. When the hand of the bear was squeezed, his voice would be heard saying “I love you.” Something sweet and simple, especially if he followed through with the thought that ran through his mind 24/7 after graduation had hit. “Here ya go, kiddo. Go do all the stuffing and all that, okay?” Sam spoke, looking to his sister now as the worker held a gentle smile. Sam had to do this for Rory and Jack’s plushies.

Not that he minded, they were his siblings. Well- he didn’t know if Rory counted seeing as the bastard wasn’t around anymore. Whatever. He’d still make a plushie for him. So, that’s exactly what he went to do. He followed the instructions of the workers, keeping himself calm and collected. Jack was still looking at simple accessories. Maybe after work one day, Sam would come back with the two and let them pick out anything they wanted for their stuffed animal. It didn’t take long for him to go up, pay for the plushies, and start to head back out.

“Where’re we going now!?” Eden asked excitedly, holding her stuffie close to her heart. The question made Sam hum in response, like he was thinking. “Well, how much do you two have left?” That made Eden go quiet. She didn’t have an answer, especially with the little accessories she had bought before they even ate. Jack didn’t seem to have much, still holding his sketchbook and a pencil in his hand. It was like he was looking for something to sketch or even planned to sketch. Something to do, he’d claim. “We can head home and watch a movie, yeah?”

Sam could use his money that was in his bank account and on his card to pay for a movie here, he’d just have to tell their parents. “Or.. we can watch it here..” He then stated, resulting in excitement forming in Eden’s eyes. “Oh, can we, can we!?” She asked, looking up to her big brother with pleading eyes. “If that’s okay with Jack too.” Sam explained, looking between his siblings with a calm look forming on his face. With the slight nod of his head, Sam gave a gentle smile down towards Jack. “Theater it is. Come on.”

________________

That was about a month or two ago. Sam couldn’t exactly remember. It was nearing his birthday. Quite literally a couple minutes before twelve. Sam was getting all his stuff together. Phone, clothes, chargers, headphones, money and keys. He was getting out of this house one way or another. He just hoped he could without his baby siblings finding out. He was dead silent as he grabbed whatever he could, his expression holding guilt. He couldn’t stay here any longer. Not with everything that had been going on. Not with their father being an abusive prick. He couldn’t handle anymore.

His eyes would close slightly, standing tall and trying to appear as calm as he could. He wished he could take his baby siblings with him, but he wouldn’t even have a home for a while. He’d have to work around four or three jobs just to get enough money for it. It took him years to save up for the truck he had now, who knows how long it’ll take him just to get a house? It would take absolutely forever. But if he ever wanted to get them out, he had to figure that out before absolutely anything.

His mind began to tear at him. He hated their father. He still had the healed scars on his chest from Halloween night years ago. He didn’t want to remember it. There were even more from the past two years, up to his Senior year. He had snuck back home this time, opting to look like one of the Ghostfaces in Scream, underneath the mask. But he knew his father would make all the blood a reality if he could, so he snuck out and back in during the early hours. He had gone out with the twins, of course.

But he had snuck out around 12, and then came back around 3 and took a shower to get all the fake blood, his contacts and everything else off. Then he went to bed and slept most of the day away. Thank god he woke up, however. He wasn’t letting his father bitch at Jack or Eden. God no. He wouldn’t let that old bastard do anything to them. So, that day he was glad he woke up early enough to deal with the bitching of their father. He’d fight that bastard every time if he humanly and physically could.

Not the point. Sam was dead quiet as he tried to pack without making too much noise. It was around 11:50, he’d be eighteen in 10 minutes. Then he’d be able to get out of the house. He wanted to get out of here. Guilt picked away at the back of his head still. What kind of brother leaves his baby siblings in a house with a shitty man? Oh right. Rory did. Sam was doing the same thing. Following in his brother's footsteps. Why? Why the hell was he following Rory’s footsteps? Because he was tired of everything.

A low sigh escaped him, his eyes remaining closed. He opened them only a couple seconds after. He was staring at an old photo. One of Rory and Sam at first, and then one with the twins. His eyes had narrowed with an annoyed expression forming on his face. He took the one with his older brother, shoving it into his bag and growing dead silent. He stared at the one with Jack, Eden and himself, his heart aching seconds after. He searched the room for a sharpie, taking the photo out the frame before scribbling his face out it.

He did it with almost every photo, but some were the polaroids he had hanging up on his part of the bunk. Sam waited for the ten minutes to pass almost instantly, picking at his lips as he looked for anything else he needed to bring. Sam had two bags, one for all his clothes and a blanket, the other for electrical things and stupid little trinkets he planned on bringing. The photo of him and Rory fell into the latter. He had a plan with that one. He searched his drawers quietly, looking for something used specifically for self-defense.

It didn’t take long for him to find the flick-knife he had stolen from some little gas-station. He shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair. He dropped his bag of actual things down, placing a brush and whatever else he needed in it. He assumed he was gonna have to stay at a hotel for a bit, so he was glad he’d been saving up his money for now. Maybe he could rent out a place, surely some people had to have been renting out apartments right now. Right?

He continued to fill his bags, making sure they weren’t too heavy, thankfully. He was ready to leave. Ready to run and never look back. Ready to leave this house. Well. Maybe he’d look back one day, but surely not now. Sam was never good at goodbyes, you could ask him to write a goodbye note and he’d tell you he physically couldn’t. He watched the clock on his phone, making his way towards the window he always would climb out of. Ten seconds left. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. He was gone seconds after.

Once the clock everywhere in the state had hit 12AM, Sam was out of the window and gone, running already. Running far from that house. He loved his baby siblings, don’t get him wrong, but he couldn’t last another day in that house. He ran and ran, ignoring how many times his phone would ring. He was free. Sam ran as fast as he could until his legs gave up on him. He ran until it hurt to breathe, until he had begun to get that lightheaded feeling. Where he ran to was that old abandoned school. He was free.

#alex was here [ooc]#Spade Carter [OC]#friends ocs #sillies #the outsiders ocs #greasers

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hopeless-nostalgiac · 1 year ago

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Find The Word (Love Themed)

Tagged by @mrsmungus,who's single-handedly keeping me connected to my writing. *hugs*

The rules are simple, find the given words in your writing (WIP, Published, a college essay - it doesn't matter) or something close enough (I think conjugating verbs and finding synonyms are both fair game) share an excerpt, and tag some friends and some new words to play too.

Words for me to find:

Affection, Heart, Kiss, Romance, Spark

Words for you to find:

Date, Kiss, Bed or Bedroom, Love, Promise

Tags to play: @loudlooks @indestinatus @television-overload @jeanmoreaux @wanna-be-bold

@pro-bee @mcgeekle and anyone else!

Affection

From After Midnight: “You are drunk,” she says, reiterating the fact for good measure. His pliable lips stretch sideways in a silly smile that taps into the pocket of affection she’s long had for his sweet, playful side. “You’re drunk,” he accuses with a scrunch of his nose. He is half right, and it’s so hot in the backseat, and she knows she should pull away, or push him away, backhand some sense into him even, but something in a momentary flash of sobriety over his expression keeps her from moving at all.

Heart

From Now Playing: They’d filled up a lifetime’s worth of heartache and turmoil and redemption in just a few short years, and it followed them—their collective history—like scars, souvenirs from battles fought both side-by-side and against one another. If their bodies got too close, would they see how well the marks lined up? If so, what would that prove about them? Something once, twice broken. Something messy and complicated… Something, Tony decided shortly after bringing her home, he never wanted to lose again.

Kiss

From a WIP, New Year Normal: Tony sighed and held her tighter, dragging his teeth over the spot she’d kissed. “It’s definitely not how I thought we’d be spending our first New Year’s Eve as a couple, that’s for sure.”

Romance

From smiles that give you away: Now there were no boundaries. Personal overrunning professional. The endless volley of looks–ranging from playful to uncomfortably intimate–sent across their desks, seeming to convey more without words than with. Touches that lingered on arms and low backs and waists anytime they crossed paths, like two spies who hadn’t yet mastered the brush-pass–who no longer cared that their cover was blown. McGee couldn’t have written an office romance better himself. (He’d tried.) But they still had jobs to do.

Spark

From Full Mischief: Tony held the butcher knife out to her, the green in his eyes sparkling like jewels. He was pleased with himself, clearly. As if this was his plan from the beginning. “Take a stab, sweetcheeks.”

#tiva fanfiction #writing #mine

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ladydorian-writes · 11 months ago

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five lines tag

I stole this from @agirlandherquill, hope you don't mind

Rules: find five lines based on the prompts you are given, then change one of the prompts at the end!

Maybe a little more than just a line, but here are some snippets from "With You, at the End of the World":

A Line About A Building - There's an odd sort of nostalgia, he finds, in tracing his steps from four years ago. Like a game of hopscotch played with his eyes, and each new number is another smile to add to his ever-growing collection. A house with a red awning stands on the left, where a wrinkled old sphynx cat spent its last days lounging in the window. There on the corner is a martial arts studio that used to be a hair salon, and farther down stretches a chain link fence plastered with NO SOLICITORS signs that never managed to keep the Witnesses away. He doesn't know why he remembers these things, except that they were important to Tanya, or so it seemed by the way she talked about them, shy and quiet, as though longing to tell their story, but not sure of how to start the chapter. (chapter 12: Don't Miss Me Too Much)

A Sad Line - He flips through several pages that are too painful for more than a passing glance, eventually stopping at a photo of all three of them posed at a restaurant table—still smiling, still blissfully unaware. "This was the last year we were together as a family. Claire and I divorced shortly after, and she got custody. Jack was almost seventeen, old enough in the court's eyes to refuse visitation." He can feel the tears aching to fall, the desperation burning to hold them back. "It's been thirteen years now, and we haven't spoken for so much as a second. But I still love him with all my heart. Even though I know he doesn't love me back." (chapter 17: What Are You So Afraid of?)

A Furious Line - "Yeah?" She breathes. "Is that what you want?" Her tongue darts out to scrape across her lips. "Well, go fuck yourself! Yeah, I said it! FUCK FUCK FUCK!" (chapter 16: Welcome Home)

A Line About The Weather - Raindrops sharp as knives pelt the doorframe and spit their wrath onto the welcome mat, but Tanya simply giggles her way through it, as if the deluge were no more threatening than a leaky faucet. "Don't worry, it's just a little wet," she remarks, with a brush of her palms down her skirt. "And I liked your dancing. I'd give it a nine out of ten." (chapter 4: I Might Have Committed a Thoughtcrime)

A Fun Line - "WE DID IT! We beat the robots another year!" She launches her middle fingers skywards. "Up yours Y2K!" (chapter 11: What Midnight Might Bring)

Tagging any writers who may want to do this.

Here are the prompts:

A Line About A Mistake

A Sad Line

A Furious Line

A Line About The Weather

A Fun Line

#ocs #memes #etc #writeblr

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askstevella · 1 year ago

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Take Me Back To The Start

Her eyes shot open, waking up in a bedroom across the other building. She was curled up in a set of sheets, as she sat up and rolled up the window.

There were street cars rolling across the sideway, calls of New Yorkers running around back and forth, women dressed to go to work and men rushing into buildings.

Last thing was being tossed in a room at Avengers Tower, the young heroes were messing around in a lab as a blast hit..

..and here she was.

She had no idea if she was alone or not in this time. The signs outside her window said otherwise as she step out the door to grab some breakfast from the dinner.

It looked cozy, colorful in a sense, and warm. She was more than welcomed, despite her all black and brown outfit. Her hair wasn't pinned up, but let down to her shoulders as she ate the stake of pancakes she had in front of her.

She tried contacting Rick, Liane and Rei, who were the ones who mess around with the experiment in the first place. But no answer, she wondered if they ended up in this timeline as well?

She wondered around the corner after breakfast, going in and out of store hoping to not waste in money she had in her pocket and--

-she heard a voice.

She sipped her soda, whipping her head around hearing a voice that sounded familiar yet so forgiven to her. Along with a voice she didn't recall at all. She turned the corner to find two young men in an ally. Correcting they were fighting!

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?" Yelled the voice.

"I can do this all day." Said the other voice.

Holy shit...it can't be..can it?

She saw the man punch the other one, as he fell onto the ground. Something kicked into Stella's head rushing over in her kitten heels as she yelled, "Hey!"

By the time she said that, the blonde was already up from the ground holding up his fist as the jerk glared at her.

"Get lost princess." Yelled the jerk.

She scoffed, "With that mouth, no wonder you use your fist."

"I outta use my fist to push you over."

"You won't do that.."

Just as the jerk was about to say something else, the blonde took the lid of the trash can and hit him with it. The jerk him back and turn to the girl, but Stella swung him hard causing the young man to stumble back then walk away grumbling.

She help the blonde stand up from being against the wall, as she finally got a good look at him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, beauty mark and skinny features.

"Thank you." He said.

And the voice. Holy crap she was in 1944, right before the war.

"Are you alright miss...?" He asked, taking in her soft features with a soft smile.

She cleared her throat and nodded, "Yeah..just a little shaken up..I mean, uh I punched the guy..are you okay?"

"Ah well, nothing a little water and an ice pack for later can't fix."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself.."

"Yeah well, this isn't my first fight."

"..and it won't be your last.." She muttered.

"What was that?" He questioned pushing his bangs out of his face.

"Nothin'..just looked like you get beaten up a lot.."

"Funny. I always get into fights, don't like bullies. Uh, where you headed off to?"

"Uh, just getting walk in the park and back to my apartment building.."

"I can talk you home if you like?"

Stella looked stunned, according to stories he was never go with women in the first place, until meeting Peggy Carter who he falls for shortly after. She didn't know to reject him or not..

Steve looked at her with wishful blue eyes, hoping he can get a chance to repay the women who saved him. Bucky was out on a date with Connie today until midnight tonight. He was mostly alone for the rest of the day.

She smiled, "Um, sure. Yeah, I'll like that. I'm Elle Romano.."

"Steve Rogers." He said returning the smile leading the way out of the alley into the park.

Maybe being stuck in the 40s won't be so bad? As they walked into the park, Stella looked over her shoulder to see a fire escape that held a sign in front of it, glimmered with a bouncing energy.

She was a women who studied magic, she can see glimpses of elements everywhere. And according to Thor, science was just magic people don't truly understand yet.

She read stories about this. All someone was supposed to do was climb up the lonely fire escape and jump though the sign into hopefully where they came.

That was her way out of here..

--------

Where do we got to next? The 90s-2000s to see young!Stella? The part of her relationship with Cap? Time with her brothers? She meet Sarah Rogers? Join in on the fun with your own tales of time travel if you like.

Tags: Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @luna-d-marsh@sherloquestea @rooster-84 and etc

#story event #event story #steve rogers x oc #ask the super spouses #askstevella #time travel

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tia-amorosa · 1 year ago

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Caracan - Sparks Family (1)

It is shortly after midnight and the lights are still on in the mayor's house. It's like this almost every evening, because Michael wants to finish his day's tasks first.

"Michael, it's getting late, come to bed"/ "in a minute, my dear, I just have to write a few lines. Mmh…hm, I've forgotten the name of our new resident again"/ "His name is Keon, Michael. You're getting a bit more forgetful as time goes by, I'm sure you realize that too. You'll have to give up your post at some point. I know you don't want that…".

"I'm still clinging to the idea that we'll leave this island one day. If possible, before I die, Vinetta. Until then, I just want to be who I am for as long as possible."/ "But at some point, you won't be able to do that anymore. You know some of the men here would like to take over your job". "hmm. I'm just not sure yet who I can hand over my position to with a clear conscience"…

"What about Mr. Weiss, or Luck-Neckar? Or Erik Verne? "/ "Oh no, not Erik, he would confuse so many things. No, I was thinking maybe Clayton. He's the closest to what I envision as my successor. He's very eloquent, can write very well, his handwriting is flawless. And he's very competent"/ "that's right. It would certainly be a good job for him."/"But I'm still here"…

"This year marks 15 years. I know it's not necessarily a day to celebrate. But it would still be nice if we could all gather around the table with a good roast. Dean should keep an eye out first and then bring us something that's enough for everyone"/ "if everyone wants to come at all."/ "You're right… Then the leftovers will be brought to them. I also wish we could do it differently. But it was lucky that there are wild animals here".

Michael finished his work for the day. He then went out into the hallway with his wife. This was already an evening ritual. Checking once again that the door was locked, taking another look through the window to make sure no one was out and about. "See, everything's fine"/"Where's our daughter today, she hasn't come home"/"She's staying with the Winchesters, she and Emma have become good friends".

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

There is a difference between what you tell your parents and what you do instead. The hunter's house is not far from the family home. Donna has been spending a lot of time with him recently. Lustful moans, rapid breathing and the rhythmic banging of wood against a wall are the sounds that flood his bedroom at this moment.

Donna and the hunter. It's not official yet. They spend most of their time together in their house and enjoy everything they've only ever dreamed of. The two have known each other since they were children. They actually grew up like siblings, but the older they got, the more they realized that they wanted more than just to be friends.

They let their feelings run free until well after midnight. "You really are incredible, Donna, but at some point even the strongest man needs a break. ". She raised an eyebrow and made a pouty face. "hnn, and I thought we could still until tomorrow morning…"/ "hahaha, oh no, really… Hey, I have to get up soon"/ "mmh. All right." He stroked her face tenderly, kissed her and then let himself fall to the side.

Exhausted and satisfied, they lay next to each other. "How much longer do you want to wait, Donna? Your parents should be allowed to know by now, shouldn't they?"/ "hnn, I actually find it quite appealing when we have a little secret"/ "Our relationship isn't a problem… Yes, I lived under the same roof as you and your parents for many years, but everything is different now and I get on with your parents"/ "Oh Dean…"

"What, huh? Your parents are allowed to know… We're not kids anymore, Donna"/ "I know. Hhh, okay, I'll talk to them, all right?"/

"We! I'll come with you, not that you're going to back out"/

"All right, then you're coming with me. I have to help my dad again tomorrow anyway. Man, this work is really boring, I'd rather be doing something else. And I also have to look after the three orphans".

"oh yes, the three who live up by the waterfall…"/ "i'm the dear aunt who looks after them. but Rupert is slowly turning into a man. He wants to be a craftsman now and is attending school again.". Dean raised an eyebrow with a confident look on his face and took a deep breath. "And I can hunt." She had to smile a little. "hnhn, yes, you're very good at that. And in a few days, it'll be Gratitude Day again. We should be grateful that we ended up here and not in the floods.". Dean got a different look on his face. Annoyed. "Yeah, and I'm only allowed to hunt on assignment again and not for fun, it's really boring."

Donna stroked his face and smiled sympathetically. "I know it's not very challenging for you. But you're the one who gets us the meat when we need it. You're the best hunter I know. And we've got everything under control so far, haven't we? I need to sleep now…"/ "O.k….". Donna lay down next to him under the comforter and closed her eyes. While he thought for a moment. "One day… One day I'll shoot a really big one!".

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End of Part one

Credits: Thanks to Lover's Lab for the Passion mod, which my Sims always have a lot of fun with😊😆in (it's like the Kinky, only with fewer functions, but it's enough for me) Bed Pose by Skylar (?) I'm not sure right now. I'll check again next time.^^

#sims3 #simsstories #Sparks Family #caracan #Michael Sparks #Vinetta Sparks #Donna Sparks #Dean Colt #Hunter #a little bit of Passion

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olderjodijournals · 16 days ago

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Saturday, January 1, 2005

How glad I am to see the New Year has arrived! I’m amazed at just how relieved I am that it’s finally here. I don’t know if this year will cure our problems, but again, it can’t be as bad as last year was. Except for my birthday and the first time we did the Maricopa swap meet, I can’t think of one good day in 2004! At least Tom didn’t get laid off. Also, it would only cost a fortune to sign me on for insurance, not just him.

I took a shower a while ago and was surprised to find mom and daughter’s place pitch dark when I went to crack the window to let the steam out.

I slept well because I had both the fan and sound machine going. Shortly after I got up, though, I heard a few firecrackers.

If all goes well, we should have 120 days left here and 17 more Sundays for Bev to possibly go banging on.

Because I slept through the time when the annual “psychic window” is normally wide open, I didn’t get much. Just this:

1. There could be something wrong with one of the back tires on the truck.

2. We may climb out of debt sometime in March, though we’ll still be broke and probably will be 90% of the time throughout our lives.

3. Miss Perfect may develop a mild case of cancer at the end of the year or early next year.

4. Tom’s next job will be in a much bigger building and it may also be computer-related and pay $8.50 an hour.

5. I may win a medal for Scuttle’s picture.

6. In an unknown state, we’ll rent a small 2-bedroom house with small rooms and no evil 4s in its numbers. (hopefully in May!)

7. The house was built in the 50s or 60s, probably late 50s and has white and red exterior colors.

8. We’ll rent the house till the queen dies in early 2009, leaving us 20 grand to buy a 1600-square-foot manufactured house and Kaori.

The RealDoll people sent me a catalog which I got yesterday. I’ll send it to Paula so she can see what they’re like.

I was shocked to read that a new California law is going to give gay couples benefits and a lot of the same rights straight married couples have. I was shocked because so many people seem to hate gays.

With the Fred Meyer gift certificate, Tom got a new ink refill kit to give our printers at least black ink. That way I can print letters to Bob and Paula, and if he wants to print any résumés for any potential new jobs, he can.

He also got a new wire for my music computer to stop that one channel from going in and out like it started to back down in Arizona.

Later…

Tom just got up and informed me that Bev blasted her music for an hour last night. He said it was annoying enough to be heard in the living room, but that I probably wouldn’t have heard it in the bedroom.

Yeah, I’m not surprised. She’ll probably do it more and more often too, till I complain again. You gotta keep on people to keep them quiet, just like how we had to send periodic city letters to remind the freeloaders to shut up. Tom thinks she only did this because it was New Year’s Eve, but I know human nature when it comes to these kinds of things. You complain, they’re quiet for a while. Then they start acting up again after a while. You complain again, they’re quiet for a while again, and so on and so forth. I swear, though, if I hear any music coming from over there, I’m going to blast my own music for a good hour or two each day that I’m up while he’s at work. If she says anything to me, I’ll just tell her, well, you went back to blasting your own music, so I didn’t think it’d bother you. You want me to stop, YOU stop. However, I’m not going back to the old bullshit of submitting periodic complaints that don’t do me much good. In fact, I’ll be damned if I’ll play that game again.

Like with all the neighbors I’ve had over the past 12 years, I just wish she’d go somewhere for a change! She’s home more than I am. Same with on the other side.

Tom said there were lots of firecrackers going off at midnight. I’m surprised I slept through it all.

Still, I hate being sent back in time like this and having to deal with the neighbor stress all over again!!! I’m going to be so pissed if we can’t get out of here in May!

Later…

Tom and I just discussed a bright idea he came up with that’ll pretty much guarantee our May escape. It really takes a lot of stress off me, too! It doesn’t stop me from stressing over what people around here may do for the next 120 days, but at least I no longer have to worry and wonder if we’ll make it out of here or not.

Tom said I may be inconvenienced because I’ll have to go without Webshots and DVD rentals for a while, and I was like, that’s what you call an inconvenience? Spending 180 days in jail; that’s being inconvenienced. I can always get whatever pictures and DVDs I missed later on. The only thing is that we may have to send Bob a money order for the incense if he can’t get the money for it. I’m sure there will be some sort of problem and delay with it. You know I can’t ever just get something. They know me, though, so I’m sure we can get around whatever problems may arise.

The number one thing, as we both agree, is getting out of here and into a house we can comfortably live in for a few years. If it has to still be in Oregon, oh well. Eureka will wait for us. Whether it ends up being somewhere in Oregon or Redding, California, we’re all for staying in the colder climates till we go to a retirement community. Outdoors, the colder climates just aren’t as noisy as the warmer ones are. The climate doesn’t matter in a retirement community because there would never be any freeloading assholes there to destroy everyone’s peace.

I just hope this is the year we can finally stop starting over! I’m sooo sick of building up just to be torn down and set back, having to give up this, give up that. We didn’t come here for this shit!

I told Tom that while I don’t vibe any upcoming problems with Bev that are any more serious than the annoyances we’ve already had on account of her, we both know it’s better to be safe than sorry, so I think that the next time he sees Pam that he should mention that she’s been noisy. I think he should do it in a casual way and not a complaining way, and make a point of stressing that it hasn’t been that often (unless things change between now and then) and that she’s a nice lady. This way, if there is any trouble ahead that I’m not seeing, they’ll already know she’s been noisy in the past. It just may help us in the end cuz you never do know. They say it’s best to have things documented or at least mentioned and remember, I picked up a noise curse in ’92 and we’re not dealing with a full deck of cards here. She’s not on permanent disability for being fat and ugly. I understand that music and banging go hand in hand with being attached to someone else, but if it does escalate, Pam won’t be so surprised to hear about it if she already knows she gets noisy. What I’m not going to do, however, is go back to the periodic complaints to the source’s face that don’t do me much good, but maybe give me only temporary peace. Instead, if it does escalate I just won’t worry about my own music and noise for the next 119 days. Still, no matter what she has in store for us, I think it’s best to get it mentioned, though I don’t know if he’ll want to. He may be afraid to do so for whatever paranoid reason he may have, and again, he’s always been hesitant to speak out against a neighbor. He’s an Arizonan, and as I learned the hard way, you don’t do that. But this is Oregon, so I hope he will bring it up.

I realized that her working a regular job may not keep her from any future banging sprees or concerts. This is because she only does this in the evenings or on weekends. Working second shift would eliminate evening concerts unless she decided to bump those up to earlier hours, though we’d still have the weekends and those periodic Sunday banging sprees to have to listen to.

I already decided to make our final days here less than pleasant for her. I’m going to stick to my promise of giving what I get, and therefore, once we’ve given our notice and are safe from anything happening to us, she’ll have a few annoyances of her own to have to deal with.

Tuesday, January 4, 2005

Tom was up to $35 on the game site but had a losing streak last night that threw him down to $19. At least he’s still got some money left to try to build back up with.

Anyway, yesterday was a very hungry day for us both, though we achieved our 24-hour fasting goal. At the end of my day, I had a can of ravioli. I was so hungry that I didn’t think it’d make a difference, but it did. I felt quite a bit better, actually, so I decided to do this at least till Saturday when we plan to go out for blizzards at DQ and to Jan’s for a couple of bucks of incense since it could still be a while before I get my order. There’s going to be a 2-day delay as it is since I’m going to have to send them a money order unless they know and trust me enough to ship it first. I sent an email yesterday asking if they had any idea when my order would be shipped, but haven’t gotten a response yet. This isn’t like them, so I hope it’s only because they were overwhelmed with more mail to respond to after the holiday.

Yesterday I ended up having about 700 calories between the ravioli and coffee, and knocking a pound off of me. I usually fluctuate between 127-130 and am currently 128. If I could just get my weight down, then I could move on to the next problem; how to keep it down. Well, I’m going to at least try to hold out again today till the late afternoon. Then I’ll stuff myself with a few baked potatoes, so at least I have that to look forward to. The 3 small meals and 3 small snacks did nothing to fill me up, leaving me always hungry. I did 3 half-hour workouts, but that was too hard on my knees so I think I’ll do just 1-2 today and try to keep busy with my writing, singing and reading, then hopefully we’ll get some DVDs today. Two were due yesterday and one’s due today. This next month will be our last month of DVDs and Webshots. Anything to keep my mind off my growling, protesting stomach!

Posted by Jodi at 9:05 PM No comments:

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Monday, January 3, 2005

Well, we got through a peaceful weekend without any shit from Bev or anyone else. All we hear during the daytime is a bunch of birds in back eating seeds from old rotten apples that have fallen off the trees.

We were talking about how fasting for one day every now and then is actually a healthy thing because it gives your digestive tract a break. So we decided to both give it a try today to save money. For someone who’s always hungry, I’m doing okay, but I’m only 6 hours into my day. The closer I get to the end of my day, the harder it gets.

Tom sent a letter to Miss Perfect letting her know we’re broke and won’t be able to write for a while, and I was like, why would you waste a 37¢ stamp on the bitch? She and the queen couldn’t care less. He said he thought I wanted them to feel guilty. First of all, they don’t. Secondly, I’d rather them send us a grand than feel anything, but since that’s not going to happen, I see no point in even communicating or acknowledging these selfish assholes. However, I didn’t think they’d send extra money for Christmas, even if it was a piddly amount, and it’s his family, so if he wants to keep things going with them, he’s entitled to do so. He said he played up our situation big time, not that it isn’t bad enough. I mean, hey, we are about a grand in debt, after all. I know beyond a doubt now that we’re not ever meant to have money, but the question is, are we destined to just not have much extra money? Or to struggle like this throughout the remainder of our lives? He thinks they’ll send us something, though I doubt it, even though I didn’t expect more than the usual for Christmas cash-wise. It’s not their problem so why should they care?

Wednesday, January 5, 2005

Here’s a quick update and then I’m going to take the day off to watch the 3 movies we got yesterday. Every writer needs a break, even me. I might not even work out today.

I was laughing at Tom because he’s still the same 216 pounds he was to begin with while I’m down to 127. Here’s where I doubt I’ll lose much more, though.

Yesterday was easier than the first day, and except for Saturday when we go out for treats, I plan to do this as often as I can where I go about 24 hours without eating, then I have a filling meal. It’s easier than having 6 small things to eat throughout the day because then I never get full. At least this way I have some satisfaction to look forward to at the end of my day.

I did some rearranging yesterday for a few reasons. For one, I didn’t want it to look too homey so I packed some more things. I want it to look like we’re moving on soon enough. I also made it so that Blondie can come in here, though I still have to supervise him because of all the wires. Lastly, it was something to do to take my mind off of food.

At around 3:00 yesterday, Beverly started in with the music, and I said to myself, no way. I don’t care how much time we’ve got left here. I’m not listening to her thumping bass anymore! So I went over there for what I promised myself would be one last time. I say one last time because if this doesn’t curb her bass, nothing will, and if it doesn’t, she’ll be hearing from MY bass. Then she’ll see that yes, it can be heard easily, and she should know this. After all, the hypocrite complained about the people who were here before us doing the exact same thing she is.

So anyway, I knocked on her back door and she seemed surprised to know I could hear her bass, though she said she’d turn it down and she did. I took this as an opportunity to ask what the banging was all about a few Sundays ago and she said it was her grandkids.

Damn, everything’s come back to haunt us! Everything but dogs so far. Everything we tried to run from is back – noisy kids, music, banging, people, bills, etc. There’s just no escaping them!

Anyway, she explained to me that she had her grandkids over to watch a DVD and you know how little kids can be, etc. Yes, I do know. That’s why I decided I was glad not to be able to have any.

In the end, I don’t think she’ll be any quieter (though she’s still just about the quietest neighbor I’ve ever had) and I can’t stop her from having her grandkids visit, so I’ll just have to live with whatever she gives me over the next 116 days, then she’ll be just a memory. I can see where blasting music in here and little kids running around would have driven her crazy and this is why I think she should know better. She’s just one of those who care only when she’s bothered and not when she’s doing the bothering, but we’ll see how things go. If she does act up, I’ll just give her a taste of her own medicine like I said before which is what she’s likely to get when we move. Most people do like to crank up their stereos, and most people, like the people who were here before us, don’t give a shit who they’re bothering. So if she’s here in May, she’ll more than likely be sorry we left.

I now strongly vibe that we won’t be going to the coast of Oregon. Also, last night I could swear I dreamt of Redding! Is this a sign? Tom says it’ll all depend on the job situation. If he can get a good-paying and secure job here, we’re not going to throw away a golden opportunity and throw away good money that we so desperately need. If he can’t get anything more than other minimum-wage jobs, then we’ll probably leave the area. My logic says we will leave the area too, because you usually have to slowly work your way up in a job and climb the ladder to the bigger pay. Most people don’t get good money to start off with.

Thursday, January 6, 2005

I decided to go 24 hours without eating two days in a row, then eat normally. So twice a week I’ll eat normally. I ate normally yesterday which bumped me back up a pound to 128. It’s just that to do it day after day is too hard.

I discovered another incense site that looks promising. Maybe even more promising than IG. There’s no minimum and shipping is free on orders over $100. They have over 1000 scents! Also, I have the option of getting just an ounce of oil for around 2-3 bucks if I want to try a particular scent. They have bags, though they don’t have rings. They also don’t have about 20 of my favorites, but that’s ok. They may be worth it with scents like Caramel Pecan, Candy Corn, Chocolate Chip, Cookies & Cream, Cookie Dough, Mochaccino, Pink Lace, etc. IG doesn’t have these scents. Speaking of them, I still haven’t heard from them which makes me think they’re blowing me off for some reason if something hasn’t come up to prevent them from getting my email.

Friday, January 7, 2005

We got a few inches of snow out there. The old man in the house across the street is now riding his little snowplow, plowing not only his driveway but the nearby sidewalks as well.

I’m still doing the diet where I don’t eat till the end of my day. I’m back to 127 pounds. That’s about as low as I usually go. If anything, this diet will save money and keep me from going over 130 pounds.

Next month I’m going to try a few of that new site’s 100-packs, but only a few. This is because if their incense sticks are bad, their oil is bad. If the oils are good, however, I’ll probably buy them by the pound rather than the ounce because then I’ll get more for my money.

Saturday, January 8, 2005

And now I’m 126 pounds. Yes, I just may’ve concocted a damn good diet here. The question is, if I did, how much do I want to lose right now? We don’t exactly have the money for me to get new clothes should I start falling out of the ones I’ve got. I should set a limit of 115-120. Then again, I still have my doubts about any diet causing me significant weight loss at my age and with my slow metabolism, so we’ll just have to wait and see.

Not eating makes you cold, so by the time I get to where I’m a few hours away from my one big meal, I’m freezing!

The roads are snowy and icy, so we’re not going out today. Instead, Tom got us treats yesterday when he did the grocery shopping, including incense, figuring that this is how it’d be today. That’s the one thing I hate about snowy climates; unlike in Arizona, the weather can prevent you from going out. As much as I hate this shit, it just may keep the little animals from coming to stomp around next door this Sunday. Next Sunday, however, they probably will be there.

Tom got us our first snow shovel yesterday. I had swatted out a path with the broom before he got in, but additional snowfall filled it back in.

China is one stupid country. They have a one-child-only policy due to their huge population. Recently they made it illegal to have sex-selective abortions because the gender ratio was getting thrown off (the sexists over there prefer boys), but it’s like – duh! If they let them keep aborting girls and throwing the ratio off even more, then that’d help curb their overpopulation problem! They say boys are so popular because they’re seen as able to keep the family line going, and I’m like – hello! You need a woman to do that, too. A man can’t carry children all by himself. That’s just 95% of the population for you, though - plain old stupid.

Sunday, January 9, 2005

Romeo’s next door now shoveling Bev’s driveway, but his truck isn’t present. He was over for a few minutes yesterday. I hope my complaints about the music won’t spark them into other annoyances, like slamming doors, for instance. I’ve heard that front door more often, though it’s so far from where I sleep, it’d never wake me up. It just seems to be human nature, though, for people to act up in other ways when they’ve been complained about. That’s what the freeloaders did, always making a point to slam their car doors as loud as they could.

At least today ought to be animal-free, so we’ve got 15 more Sundays to hope we can dodge the animals, though I know they’ll be here a few times before we leave. There are 3 Sundays left in the month as it is, so one of those ought to include them.

The old man across the street came knocking yesterday. We figured he wanted to plow our driveway for a small fee, but we just ignored him.

If I don’t hear from Bob or Jeff come Monday, I’m going to tell them to forget my order. I’m also not going to play any more mail games with anyone else, so I’ll probably forget about trying incense from that other place and just get us a small microwave and me a new pillow. Mine’s just about mashed flat. I think I’ve had it since back east if I didn’t get it when I first moved to Arizona.

Later…

It looks like I’ve bottomed out at 126 pounds, though I’ll continue to do this diet for two days at a time with a day off in between to save money.

Last night I slept pretty shittily. That’s because I had to sleep on pieces of foam because this bed leaked just like the last one did! It fucking figures, though I’m surprised it took so long. Why is it always our stuff that breaks? Meanwhile, none of the stuff in here that we don’t own has broken in any way. At least I caught this leak while I was awake, rather than awakened to find I’d sunk like I did in the RV. I was lying in it reading when I realized it was getting softer awfully fast. By placing it in the tub, Tom was able to locate the leak by pushing on it. The leak would then cause the water to bubble. The odd thing about it is that the leak is in the area where my pillow is and once we examined it, it was clearly a puncture made by a sharp object and not wear and tear of the bed itself. But I don’t have anything that could do that. I don’t lie on the bed with things in my pockets, nor do I have sharp objects on me. The sharpest thing we could come up with was the metal clasp around my elastic hair tie, but even that seemed too small and just not sharp enough to go through a sheet and a wool blanket folded in half.

We tried to patch it with a piece of semi-rubbery backing from a mouse pad and some rubber cement, but that wouldn’t seal it enough. We had Tom sleep on it because I figured I’d always be waking up, paranoid about sinking. I was shocked to find it stayed up all night, though it did lose a lot of air. I was like, I nearly broke my back while this thing stayed up! Despite sleeping on 4 pieces of foam, I was still quite uncomfortable. I guess it’s because I’m a little heavy. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so uncomfortable if I were the 100 pounds I used to be, but since that’s not going to happen, we got a new bed today. Fortunately, it came with a repair kit because we forgot to get one and these cheap pieces of shit are obviously always going to spring leaks.

Next week we’re going to get a microwave and me a new head pillow as well as a new body pillow.

It wasn’t overly cold out there, but it was all slushy with patches of water and ice and just totally yucky. Dreary looking, too. Tom’s still finding this fun, though, and even enjoyed shoveling the driveway. He’s insane, I told him.

Again someone knocked on the door. Some woman with a little kid that was probably looking for hand-outs. They just don’t leave you alone in the city!

I wonder if I’ll hear from the publisher this coming week. The 6 weeks are almost up. I’d rather them tell me they’re rejecting my manuscript than just blow me off without a word, but a lot of people do that.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Just 110 more days to go here. If Romeo’s now living with Bev, hopefully he won’t dig the idea of a bunch of little kids visiting, but I’m sure they’ll visit again soon enough. Better yet, I wish she’d start hanging out at his place more and more, though I don’t want her to move before we do because we may get something worse over there if she did.

I wasn’t kidding, though, when I said no more complaints against the bass if she were to start up again. I’ve got an advantage here that I didn’t have with the sickos that I’m going to take advantage of and that’s that I can give back what I get. Not being attached to the sickos, it wasn’t easy to “pay back the noise.” Also, they were so damn noisy that my noise wouldn’t have mattered. Here, though, the only thing I couldn’t do is wake her up if she woke me up because I’d have to wake Tom up in order to do that. Meanwhile, I’ll just give back any bass she gives me, though all’s been quiet since complaint number two.

I was shocked to awake at 125 pounds. That’s a 4-pound drop in 8 days!

We got a little more snow, but haven’t gotten over half a foot yet. According to these online charts, the first week of January was as cold as it gets here, though it’s still going to be a few months before it warms up. I just hope it isn’t too nice to invite all kinds of chaos outside these bedroom windows before we leave!

Got a nice view out the kitchen window yesterday when a couple of deer decided to come digging through the snow for some apples. I even managed to get some decent pictures. I was amazed at how easily and gracefully they hopped over the fence. It was almost as if they floated over it and they were nearly soundless when they touched ground. They’re pretty brave too, because I went out back and watched them for a few minutes and they didn’t mind.

When Tom got in from work, he told me there were 3 of them watching him leave for work that morning. They were between our driveway and the side of the neighboring duplex.

I spoke with Bob yesterday who said things were in shambles when he returned from a vacation in Mexico. He said Jeff’s a good guy, but he’s lousy with management. He also says he’ll have my order shipped today or tomorrow, though he doesn’t know if the two body oils I want are in stock. Either way, we sent off the payment today, so maybe they’ll cross paths. If all goes well, I can mail Paula’s incense and CDs out on Monday.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

We decided to get a microwave this weekend and put my new pillows on hold till next weekend in light of the $150 electric bill we just got. That’s nothing compared to the Arizona bills, but still a hell of a lot for us, considering what he makes here.

We did more research on Redding and were surprised to see how much warmer it is there than here. It’s barely two hours away yet its temperatures are more comparable to Arizona than here! It rains more there, though it rains more everywhere than in Arizona. Well, I’m pretty sick of the cold and snow already. My only concern would be that it may be too noisy being a warmer climate, but we’ll see. We still don’t even know that we’re going to make it down there this year. It’ll all depend on what he finds for jobs.

Tom got an idea for a book he wants us both to write together about a PI who looks for a missing person with computers being involved. It’s sort of sci-fi. I told him I didn’t know if I could do that because I’m not a sci-fi writer. I’ll give it a try, though it seems like it’d be like me trying to sing opera. I’ve still got so many book ideas of my own, and who knows when No Escape will be done?

It’s been exactly 6 weeks since I submitted my manuscript to PDP, so I hope to hear from them soon. If February rolls around with still no word from them, I’ll email them.

Of course I haven’t heard a damn thing from Bob saying that my package has been shipped. Why oh why do I always have to fight to get things??? Why can’t I just order something and get it???

The sleep curse was on again this morning. A single loud bang woke me up that seemed too loud to be any of the neighbors, so I’m thinking it may’ve come from the street. I heard another single loud bang about 10 minutes later. Since I doubt it was any of the neighbors, unless Bev hurled a chair at the dividing wall or they slammed doors with all their strength on the other side, no midnight snowballs will be hurled at their bedroom windows, though I think mom and daughter are wide awake at that hour.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

I thought it was time to do something I’ve been thinking of doing ever since I got off probation and that’s to email the Arizona Republic with the truth about what happened with the sickos we used to live with. I’m not going to tell Tom just yet because I know that’d make him extremely paranoid. Even I was a little nervous at first, knowing they could alter my email, etc., but then I remembered my vow to not let this incident keep me from speaking my mind. I did it because I felt I finally had to “fight back” even if it’s in a pathetic sort of way. It isn’t to make anyone believe me or side with me or to gain anything. I can’t kill them, I can’t sue them, but I could finally speak out without being attacked or used as people’s source of entertainment, and so I did. I will place a copy of the email at the end of this entry.

I called Bob again and he says that by next week they should be all caught up, he got my money order today, and will email me to let me know the current status of my order. Meanwhile, I’m sure it hasn’t been shipped yet.

I also called Paula and told her to start looking for her package after the 24th. She’s been kind enough not to call me so she doesn’t take up my minutes, and I assured her I’d make it a point to call her once a month. The gay guy got a 1-year restraining order on her, she’s still in touch with psycho Miguel, and her married black pig still comes around every now and then.

Last night was utterly freezing here at -7º! Bev hasn’t hung clothes out back for a while now.

I was so sick of being so cold in my sleep that I cut my comforter in half, making the part I’d cover myself with a little wider, and put the other part under my sheet to act as a padded mattress pad. I had two hours of sewing to do, but it was worth it.

My letter to the Arizona Republic:

My name is Jodi S and while I doubt this letter will be read since it’s not exactly going to say what the media would like to hear, I’ll give it a try anyway. I had turned down an interview with you folks in March of ’01 from Estrella jail because I didn’t want to be your source of entertainment, after being terribly slandered by a couple of news people who insisted they were to remain neutral and weren’t out to attack me, though you went and bashed me anyway, even though I never did read the article.

So why am I writing this? Oh, I guess it’s just because I have to get the truth out, even if no one ever cares enough to read this, much less investigate my claims.

I’m the one who was convicted of stalking Joely N on 10/30/00. The reason I’ve chosen to wait so long to write this is so that no one thinks I wrote it simply to try to get a break on my sentence since my sentence has been done and over with since 4/30/03. I don’t even reside in Arizona anymore. My husband and I were forced to run after the countless threats we received from both Miss N and the arresting officer involved, Jerry O, her personal friend. I guess the reason for the threats was that they were angry that my probation got cut 6 months early, aside from the fact that these are seriously disturbed individuals. Because of this, I am not going to disclose my location.

Let me cut to the chase and then I’ll expand on what I have to say. They said I was convicted of writing and sending N a threatening letter, but in reality, I was convicted because I am Jewish (something N has personally told me she despises) and because I launched a city complaint against her when she was on section 8 and living next to us in Phoenix for constant noise and trashing our yard. I did not know this right away, but she and Jerry O have been long-time buddies.

We moved to Maricopa because we were tired of being continually harassed and badgered by these people for no reason whatsoever. Loud stereos would come and go at all hours of the day and night, screaming and yelling were a constant occurrence, trash would be tossed over into our yard, and so on and so forth. Every time we’d call the police, they’d tell us they couldn’t be there 24/7 to monitor the situation and that they’d probably start up as soon as they left, and they did. The police also told me to keep a log of their activities. I did this in my journal. This is what the state called “stalking.” Well, let me assure you, we couldn’t have helped but know their every move if we tried because N, her boyfriend Michael, her friends and family, went out of their way to make sure we knew of their every move and this was just a few feet from our place. Their driveway ran alongside one wall of our house and we’d hear them out there slamming car doors as loud as they could, laughing about it, calling out, taunting us. I was becoming quite frightened of them. After all, there were just 2 of us and lots of them. I even heard N once yell out, “Call the police again and I’ll personally skin your white Jewish ass!” This was along with prank phone calls and notes slipped in our mailbox slot that I am so, so sorry I never saved. I thought I was being the so-called bigger person by ignoring these things and so I threw them away.

When repeated complaints to quiet down directly to them failed to work, we wrote a letter to the city. This was never about their color. This was about them being loud, rude and obnoxious. They themselves turned it into a racial issue, and never once did I make any threats to them in my journals. The closest thing I may’ve said to a threat was, “I wish they’d drop dead over there,” or “I sometimes want to go over and strangle them for all the noise,” but I never once wrote any direct threats to them or their kids.

She said in court that she had to move twice because of me yet I never knew where she moved to. That’s why I sent the journals to the old address; so they could be forwarded. (I’m sure O coaxed her into saying this) Then they said I picked on the next family which was Hispanic, but they weren’t Hispanic. They were as white as I am. When I called N and asked if she’d gotten the letter, “the letter” meant the manila envelope I’d sent her containing the journals.

That’s where Det. O comes in. We had just moved into our Maricopa home when he so rudely stormed into my house, scaring the living daylights out of me, with a ton of other cops. It was like a swat team! I was like, all this for a 105-pound, 5’ person? Then I was dragged into Phoenix to be asked questions that I could’ve been asked right there in my home. This was when I was framed, though I didn’t realize it at the time. O thrust a threatening letter into my hand that I had never seen before. It was very threatening and filled with racial slurs. I told him I knew nothing of the letter, though I did send some journal excerpts as a way of “speaking my mind” in a non-violent way that was exercising my right to freedom of speech. What I didn’t know then is that O typed the letter up himself, then thrust it into my hands to get my fingerprints on it. I also have every reason to believe he altered many of the journals as well.

Words cannot describe the sheer frustration of being set up by your own perpetrators while the media has done nothing but glorify these people. Words also couldn’t describe the frustration of knowing I can never prove the letter was a frame. I have been humiliated beyond belief. The police have ignored the threats made against us. They just didn’t want to hear it or believe it. It always makes the news when non-whites are discriminated against, but when a white person is discriminated against, you never hear about it.

The corruption doesn’t end here, I’m afraid, so please bear with me a little longer if by some chance you are still reading this.

Paul K was my public defender. I thought I just may have someone on my side at last, someone I could trust, but boy was I wrong! He withheld valuable information from me that could’ve prevented me from receiving the ludicrous sentence I received, and didn’t show me additional “evidence” till minutes before sentencing. I don’t even remember what this was because he flashed it really quickly and then shoved it away in a file folder. When I asked to see it clearly, he refused. My husband and I tried to take action against him, but the Bar Association refused to even listen to us. Meanwhile, I was led to believe I was being charged with the journals, not the letter. I was also assured – no promised – that if I pled guilty, I would receive no more than a year’s probation. I still didn’t think I deserved that much for sending what was a handful of pages of journal excerpts, but I truly believed at the time that I had no way out. K was great at manipulating people who didn’t know a thing about the law and the system. And why should I have known anything? After all, the worst I’d ever done back in my native state of Massachusetts was make prank phone calls that I got a slap on the wrist for. However, I would come to learn an awful lot too late right around this time, along with the fact that N and O were friends and maybe even more than friends by the way they carried on out in the hallway before we could enter the courtroom. Oh, it was quite a show, I assure you!

And then there was the DA and Judge. When Paul told me the DA was seeking a 6-month sentence, I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it! Who in their right mind would seek that kind of a sentence for something that was written on paper? After all, I never harmed these people, never forced them to read the journals. They could’ve simply trashed them and moved on, but not these vengeful, vindictive people. This was when I started to realize much to my horror that I may never be allowed to move on and get these people out of my life forever. And what kind of judge could hand down such an insane sentence? Even if it was the so-called “law,” well, what if the law came down and said you had to throw your children off a bridge? Would you do it? I should hope not! I should hope at that point you’d do the right thing which the judge failed to do that day. Even if I’d been 100% guilty as charged, no one – no one – should do 6 months in jail, plus 2 years of probation that would amount to thousands of dollars, for a letter!

I thoroughly regret pleading guilty and that I cannot prove the guilt of those involved, protect others from becoming potential victims of these hateful people, and sue them silly. So my next hope is that N and O, who are obviously obsessed with me, never find me. There’s no saying what they would do if they did and let me set the record straight – the only “victims” in this case were me and my husband! Another thing that’s truly frustrating is knowing that no one’s ever questioned them. Never once has these people’s credibility been questioned. I mean, certainly I can’t be the only one they’ve picked on. I’m sure that if one probed deep enough, they’d find others they’ve victimized that they believed crossed them and that O used his authority against. This man is nothing but a very angry person hiding behind a badge that he uses as a weapon against those he dislikes or that his friend/lover N has a personal vendetta against. I don’t know if they’re all white like me, but I’m sure you’d find a common denominator if you looked hard enough – Joely N and Jerry O.

I do not wish to be contacted regarding this letter. Sadly, I know these people will never be questioned, or investigated, and that justice will never be done in this case. I just wanted to correct the tall tales they’ve spun along with the media and God knows who else, and speak the truth without being attacked for once, or assumed to be out for personal gain.

Later…

Got a Bob letter today. His lungs are so bad that he says he may not make it out of there. I never thought he would, truthfully. I always figured he’d either kill himself or get shanked by some sicko.

The Bob in Idaho is still stringing me along. He emailed saying, “We never received the order so we couldn’t find it,” yet he just named off a few things on my order list the other day that he said he’d check on to see if they were in stock. Now I have no clue whatsoever when my order will be shipped, but I do know that I’m done with them for good. I’d really like to find a place I can buy my supplies from in person!

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Although I don’t expect them to get it till Monday, I went ahead and sent the publishers a message regarding any decisions made about my manuscript. Whether or not I hear from them will depend on just how professional they are. If they blow me off, then they were never all that professional to begin with.

If Bob blows me off and I don’t get the incense by Friday, I’ll just go ahead and send Paula what I’ve got, along with her CDs. Then I’ll have to fight to get the money back, and never, never, get anything through the mail again.

Meanwhile, I was able to go online and order free mailing boxes from the PO. They say they’ll be here in 10-14 days. It’d be nice if they kept their word because that way he wouldn’t have to stand in line at the local PO.

If I do get my incense, then I’ll stick to my plan of trying that other incense place next month. I’m sure they’ll start off reliable, then slowly slack off like Bob and Jeff did. Things always seem like they’re going to work out at first, but then they slide downhill. Neighbors start off quiet, then they get noisy. Diets start off effective, then they stop working. Melatonin starts off keeping me on a schedule, then it’s worthless. People’s service starts off okay, then it gets horrible.

No animals next door today, but the damn things will probably be there next Sunday.

My weight is at 126 pounds. I don’t know if I’ll get lower than 125-126. My guess is no, I won’t.

The temperature’s climbing back up which makes it much more comfortable at night. It’d cost us a fortune to heat it so that we’d be comfortable in here when it’s around 0º. It’s going to be in the upper 50s in about a week.

The Arizona Republic has so far honored my request not to be contacted regarding my email, though I’m not terribly surprised about that one. They probably never even read it, having long since decided that I was the perpetrator in this case, and if they did it would have only been to see if I threatened the sickos so they could try to hunt me down and come after me.

Tom sprayed mildew killer to try to kill all the damn mildew that’s around the windows, and although that was hours ago, I can still smell the shit. It reminds me of Monkey-Faced Maria in jail who was so obsessed with bleaching everything she could!

Monday, January 17, 2005

I got a response back from PDP. I hope she’ll find my current story more “fleshed out and expanded on” as she put it. I think it’s much better than the one she read, but we’ll see. I don’t know if I’ll rework the one I submitted only because it’s easier to start from scratch than to rework a manuscript, but we’ll see. It’s definitely longer. Still, I appreciate the feedback, even if she made a typo at the end of her review. We were kind of expecting a form letter or to be completely blown off.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

If I could’ve read future excerpts back before the mid-90s, this one would’ve had me laughing: A cold tried to set in the night before last. It took me a while to fight it, but between my spells, incense burning, and chicken pot pie, it never got worse than a scratchy throat. I don’t know how I do what I do. I just concentrate really hard on what I want (or don’t want), though sometimes it takes a few tries.

Here’s another classic example of how not having my own kids hasn’t necessarily spared me from having to deal with other people’s kids getting in the way of my life, plans and peace. On Sunday, Bob told me he worked on my order a little, then he got pulled away by his daughter who was celebrating her 10th birthday. Supposedly, it’s to be shipped out tomorrow, but I’ll believe it when I see it.

I took my first duplex nap and slept for a few hours this evening. Perhaps that’s because cramps woke me up after not much more than 4 hours of sleep this morning. Again I don’t know what it is with the 4th hour of my sleep being so vulnerable. Did I smother someone in their sleep in a previous life after they’d been asleep for 4 hours, or what? I may be asleep when he gets in from work if I can’t get to sleep till late in the morning, but I’ll wake up to a nice surprise in the freezer if I do – a mud pie blizzard from DQ! Yes, it’s my day off tomorrow, and I’m also virtually certain that my weight won’t drop below 125 pounds. Oh well. For years I couldn’t get under 127 so maybe someday I’ll get under 125, but probably not anytime too soon. I still intend to keep up the diet, though, cuz it does a good job of saving money.

I do not look forward to this Sunday, knowing it could very well be a circus next door. The question is, will I be awake before the earthquakes begin, or will the animals wake me up? I did not come here just to be woken up by other people’s kids or grandkids!!!

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Romeo’s visiting now. I still don’t think he’s living there, though, because the truck is hardly ever there. Why would you move in with someone and leave your vehicle elsewhere most of the time? How would he get to work, assuming he does work? He may very well be on disability himself, though I’ve never seen his truck here during regular business hours. It’s just that I remember all too well how hard it is for those on Disability to attract those with jobs. However, a guy probably wouldn’t mind a woman on Disability as much as another woman would.

The guy across the street yelled for Tom to come help him lift an air compressor out of his trunk the other day, but they didn’t chat or anything.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Amazingly, Bev’s been gone since Tom got in from work, which was right around when I got up and still is. I’ve never known her to be out after dark. My guess is that she’s at her kid’s house. I hope that’s where she is because it’s about time she went to them rather than them going to her, cuz when they do, we’re the ones that have to deal with it, though I’m sure they’ll still visit occasionally. Most people aren’t going to forbid their grandkids from visiting just because they bother the neighbors.

I just realized another not-so-good possibility. Her daughter-in-law could be having the baby tonight, in which case she and her son may want to pawn the other kids off on her because they’ll have their hands full enough with a newborn. Why do other people’s kids always have to butt into my life? With my shit luck, her daughter-in-law has no mother for them to go to, so with just one granny to sic them on, we’re the ones that’ll have to put up with their shit.

It’s getting more and more obvious, at least to me, that Bob’s just stringing me along with no plans to ship my order. I don’t think he ever processed it. I don’t know if he’s just so overwhelmed that he’s deliberately losing customers while he’s too greedy to hire help, or what, but here’s my plan. If I still haven’t heard from him by Monday, I’ll email him informing him that he has one week to either send me my order or give me my money back. If in a week he hasn’t delivered either, I’ll trash and bash him in his testimonials every day. Hopefully, he’ll get so sick of that that he’ll finally cave in and send something. There’s no way I can trust this other incense place. I’m just too cursed with mail orders, and the more it’s something I like/want, the more I have to fight for it. It’s just too damn hard to get shit through the mail, so I give up.

I hit 124 pounds today. If things continue as they have been, I just may keep losing after all. I may be 115 when we move, from what I calculated.

Friday, January 21, 2005

It’s currently 21º here, 3º in Springfield, and 69º in Maricopa. It’s going to be 81º in Maricopa come Sunday. God, I miss that! I mean, I don’t miss the huge electric bills, struggling to regulate the AC, sweating my ass off even when I’m sitting still, but I’m sick of being cold! I’m so glad we’ll be moving when the weather warms up, cuz as much as I miss summer, I’d hate to have it warm up here. Never know what trouble it may bring outdoors if it did.

Bev was out for at least 3 hours that we know of. I’d say that kid was born. She’s never been out that long and after dark, so I’m getting rather nervous about the upcoming weekend. Damn! I did not come here to be stressing out all over again about what neighbors may do! Oh well, whatever she does, it can’t be for more than 100 days now, then all I have to do is hope we can get a house that doesn’t include the neighbors’ barking dogs or a car stereo. If they did have a stereo, though, I’d like to think they couldn’t pull right up alongside our house with it, or sit with it blasting while they tossed hoops. I just know that someone in the household will be home all the time, they’ll probably have little kids who are outside a lot, so I’m hoping we’ll have more privacy than we did in Maricopa since we couldn’t possibly have that much distance.

I had to laugh to myself when I thought of how we came here to build a home on the mountain. Instead, we may very well move to California and I may publish a book this year (I have vibes that my second submission will make it). Now that’s pretty far out.

I also laughed when I thought of how Mary had contacted me to help her get her book published, yet all I could do for her was type up what she wrote. Instead, it just may be the other way around, since she’s the one who really inspired me to improve my writing and to write more elaborate stories.

Tom was right when he pointed out how we seem to fail when we set out to do something with some grand goal in mind. Getting my stories published was the last thing on my mind when I started them. I still can’t say for sure that I ever will get any published, but I think I stand a pretty good chance. The vibes I got from Barb weren’t just that she hoped I’d submit something publishable, but more like she expected me to.

Saturday, January 22, 2005

I was laughing when I read that Massachusetts is 30 degrees colder than we are right now, and expecting a monster snowstorm. Yup, winters here are mild compared to even the easiest winters there.

Bev was out again till dusk. I know she’s not visiting Romeo who’s laid up with a broken leg somewhere because he came by last night. I just hope this place isn’t hit with 7 hours of sonic boom-type vibrations tomorrow!

I awoke at 126. That’s a 2-pound setback, so I have to really watch it for the next couple of days. My goal is to hit 123 by the end of the month.

The good news is that my incense was finally shipped out on Friday. Now all I have to do is hope they sent everything I ordered. If whatever extra thing he threw in isn’t good, I’ll just send it to Paula. I just hope I don’t have to be available to sign for it because I should be asleep when it comes on Monday or Tuesday.

Tom’s written a program to aid him with the online games. We’re hoping this will earn us an additional few hundred a month, but we’re afraid to get our hopes up. It’s just that we’ve struggled so much of our lives that I can’t see why we’d suddenly stop. The hard part is that he’s got to come up with a program that’s not too obvious and that they can block with their own software they may have set up to detect aids.

As for me, I thought that once we had a PO Box somewhere again, I’d post a notice on the bulletin board for people to send me $5 per question, and as a psychic, I’d send them their answers via postal mail or email. This way, if some trigger-happy psycho doesn’t like any answers I may give, they won’t know where to find me. I hope I can do something because my books can’t make us shit. Even if I got 5 books published right now, you’re talking just a few bucks a year in sales because not many people buy these kinds of books, and I’m not a big-name author.

He found a dollar bill in the driveway the other day. At least the occasional trash that blows in here is worth something unlike the millions of pieces of trash we’d get in Maricopa!

He said he felt a slight cold starting, so I did a spell on him. I hope it works!

Why couldn’t they come up with these flavored cigarettes before I quit smoking? They’ve got all kinds of them coming out now, and of course you also got all kinds of people protesting them. I can’t imagine how you could “flavorize” smoke, but then again, you can add fragrance to it so why not taste?

Sunday, January 23, 2005

No animals today, so that’s good. Maybe God’s just waiting to send them over on a day when he knows I’ll be up to having to figure out where we’re going to go for 7 hours while they bounce off the walls, floor and ceiling. There’s no way I can see her having them over and ordering them to sit still. You can’t tell little kids to sit still any more than you can tell a rattlesnake to rid itself of its venom. Not without traumatizing them into a catatonic state with threats of death for running rather than walking.

It seems the worst of winter may be over, judging by the variety of birds there suddenly is. So unlike Massachusetts, though I’m sure it won’t feel very summery for a while yet. Good, we still have 98 days to go here.

I have this cavity that acts up every now and then, but then I do my spells and it’s okay for a while. Although Tom’s a bit more sure he can win us a couple of hundred extra bucks a month, I want to put off filling it till after we get moved so it doesn’t jeopardize the move.

It also appears that my spell stopped his cold from setting in, too. A cold made another play for me in my sleep, but again I fought it off. Let’s put it this way – we’d both be feeling pretty lousy right now if I didn’t have the powers I have!

I hope we can find an old dumpy house no one wants to rent that’s cheaper than this. If it’ll only be for a few years, I won’t care if it’s small, old and rundown. I guess it’ll depend on how much land is around it. Just as long as there are some space and some trees for privacy. I also hope it’s where we stay till we buy a house. I may be anxious to get the hell out of here, but I’m still sick of all the damn moving we do, too!

Monday, January 24, 2005

Tom’s trying for today’s $10 on the game site. That’s what we’d like to start with; $10 a day. Without this cheater thing he wrote, there’d be no way. If this works out, though, then that’ll be his additional part-time job.

I can relate to how he said he wanted to brag to everyone and anyone about how he came up with this brilliant program, yet the only one he could tell was me. He was adamant about me writing about it at first, but then he said it’d be okay since it’s not illegal. The worst that could happen to him if he were caught would be that he’d get kicked off the site and not paid any of the money he won.

Where I can relate is that if I ever did get a book published, I’d want to rub a copy in both our family’s faces, and maybe even send a copy to Andy and Miss Priss, yet I know we wouldn’t tell anyone other than Bob and Paula. Impressing the others and showing off to them isn’t worth the cost of the postage it’d take to send the copies anyway.

Later…

I’m both excited and delighted to say that after waiting exactly one month, the incense is here! Not without a catch, though, as usual. One of the two body oils is out of stock and so is the incense oil I ordered. Also, they left out my bags. This is no biggie, though, compared to if I find that any of these dipped sticks aren’t what they’re supposed to be, but so far so good.

Bob said he’d send the stuff to me next week. I guess my box was packed, then repacked, and they forgot to stick the bags back in.

What’s funny is that he can’t find my money order which he acknowledged both on the phone and in the e-mail had arrived. He said his daughter cleans up after him and she may’ve put it someplace. Serves him right for making me wait this long! Anyway, Tom will give him its ID number if he has to. These people are so damn disorganized! What kind of fool leaves payments lying around to get misplaced? Don’t they have some sort of box for these things?

I’m impressed with how well the oil burns in the light bulb rings. Just half an eyedropper of oil, and the place smelled heavily of chocolate for about as long as in incense stick burns, maybe longer. It only smoked a teeny tiny bit, too. The only drawback to the oil rings is that I can’t use them when I don’t want lights on.

He gave me two extra 20-packs. One was an extra pack of Cotton Candy which is good. It actually sort of reminds me of butter rum, believe it or not. And also a pack of the famous Frankincense. I don’t really care for that one, so I sent it to Paula. Both she and Tina will be in for a pleasant surprise. Especially Tina, since she’s not expecting it.

The flat-rate mailing boxes I requested arrived, too. The mailman left them by the door, knocked, then took off. I’m going to miss getting packages this easily, though I’m not going to be getting many for a long, long time to come. Not just to save money, but because I’m sick of having to work so hard to get them! It sort of takes the fun out of shopping when you have to fight for your purchases, though I still may give that other place a try and get just $20 worth of sticks.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

I was surprised to wake at 123 pounds! I did not expect that. Every time I think I’m not going to lose anymore, I do, so now I’m back to not being sure how low I’ll go.

Tom’s got a new game plan in mind. Instead of playing for set dollar amounts each day, he’s going to play for 2 hours on weekdays and 5 hours on weekends. That’ll be 20 hours a week, the part-time job we need to supplement us. He still thinks he can win around $10 a day.

I called Paula to let her know her incense and CDs would be mailed out tomorrow or the next day. I also enclosed some designer envelopes for her as well as a couple of dull colognes and a bottle of nail polish. Plus, I’m sending her a light bulb ring and a bit of watermelon oil so she can see if she too, wants to switch from sticks to avoid the residue buildup. I let her know I’d send a fragrance list from the New York site for her to choose from and to send me money for whatever she wants and I’ll get it for her when I go to do a trial order for myself in 2-3 months.

Not surprisingly, I found more botches on the incense I just got. My Butter Rum is Butter Rum and so is my Cranberry, and I’m almost sure the Cotton Candy is, too. Also, the Jasmine smelled a bit off, yet when I sniffed the bag, it clearly smelled of Jasmine. The Fruit was way off, and when I sniffed the bag, it smelled Lemony. They obviously can’t handle big incense orders, so even though he says he got a new kid helping him, I should buy more oils from them and fewer sticks. I want to convert over to oil anyway. They don’t manufacture their oil, so maybe they won’t fuck up as much as opposed to when they have to dip/package sticks.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

I spoke to Paula last night and let her know her package is on its way. While we’ve had no snow and have been in the 40s and 50s, she’s got 15” of snow and single-digit temps! Some parts of Massachusetts have 3’ of snow.

Not surprisingly, his cheater program doesn’t look like it’s going to help him win $10 a day at the game site. As I reminded him, we wouldn’t be cursed financially if we were meant to be able to do things like win money that often. The point of this is to keep us down in life and make sure we always struggle. I don’t know what’s doing this to us or why. Everyone else in our families was meant to have money, so why are we the black sheep in that department? Because we are in so many other departments as well? Well, I don’t know why we’re destined to scrape pennies, but there’s no point in getting upset over it. It’s always been this way and it always will be.

I’m also sure my publishing vibe is bullshit, too. I mean, it has to be, doesn’t it? Why would God let me do something as extraordinary as publishing a book, even if it means we still stay broke? I guess the answer is simple. I may not want to be a writer like I once wanted to be other things, but I like to write, so why would He let me do something I like and want to do other than for fun? I just don’t see Him letting me publish a book, although He did let me get pictures published, and well, I don’t know, but maybe getting something published isn’t that extraordinary. I don’t know the odds. I guess it’d be somewhat special, though certainly not as special as winning a Grammy or an Oscar. I just don’t see how one could make money with gay characters with all the bigots in this world, so maybe He would allow it after all. I think that’s why He allowed me to get my pictures published; because He knew I wouldn’t profit from it. So, if I have nothing to gain, I just may succeed.

I learned yet another fucked up religious belief from Tom when I commented on how those that hate gays tie them into religion, unlike blacks. He told me that they too, were entwined in twisted beliefs. Back when they were slaves, certain religious people said it was okay to enslave them because they weren’t really human but were in fact monkeys. As much as I hate the damn things, even I have to admit that one’s pretty fucked up, yet it’s funny, too. A lot of them do have monkey-like facial features.

I went to the Arizona Republic’s site to see if anything was printed pertaining to my e-mail. Not surprisingly there wasn’t. I wouldn’t have cared if there was, I was just curious. All I found connected to my name was one small paragraph from when I was in custody, and sure enough, and not at all surprisingly, that one little paragraph was riddled with lies. The sick bitch said I hung a teddy bear by a noose from her clothesline, that she spent as much time as possible away from the house, and that she was pregnant when we had to live with her and her sick associates. Again, I had the great misfortune of seeing her often enough to know she was never pregnant while living there. I got a kick out of the ax bullshit she threw in, though, saying she slept with an ax by her bed. What? Her big man couldn’t protect her from someone smaller than she was? Then again, I was only shorter, but not lighter. The bitch was druggie-thin, so I was no doubt the heavier one. Still… an ax? My, my, Joely, aren’t we a little drama queen? I know it was all for show, though. She was never afraid of me. The only thing she was right on about in court was when she said she was lucky to be alive. She got that one right! I still don’t know why I didn’t stick it to her when I had her on our property. I still would’ve gone to jail, but it would’ve been for a worthy cause in that case.

Anyway, I did toss an old teddy bear over the wall I no longer wanted, but I’d never have had the guts to go into the yard for fear of being shot to death. Then again, the Mexicans would’ve shot us faster than the blacks because that’s just the kind of people they were. I wasn’t kidding or exaggerating when I said they’d literally die for me. They’d die for anyone or anything, for that matter, if that’s what it took to get their way. They don’t come much more defiant than those little shits. Anyway, the noose-hanging was just the black bum’s own throw-in for dramatics, as the roof-hopping was my own add-in in the journals I sent.

As for her spending as much time as possible away from the house – I suppose that’s why I’d always bitch about her being there 24/7, because she was out as much as possible, right? Well, the truth is that it was only in the last few months that she was gone during the day, but that was only because she finally started working.

I would also bet everything I have that she didn’t lose the house. Her time was no doubt up because they were beginning to set time limits at that time. Since the 90s, you haven’t been able to stay on welfare for decades like you used to be able to. Some people would have one child after another just to stay on it, but now they’ll only pay for so many for so long, then “you’re the parents, so you foot the bill,” is their attitude, which I thoroughly agree with. I thought it was about time they cracked down on the lazy mother-fuckers. Either way, there’s no way even the nicest, most peaceful person would have gone out that quietly the day she moved, had we been the ones to cause her to be evicted. The Mexicans may’ve ended up evicted, but she did not.

Later…

I’m back to thinking I’m not going to lose any more weight. I’ve been 125 pounds for the last two days, and when I first hit 125, it was 16 days ago. Oh well. Going hungry still saves money.

I split my 24 bags of incense in half. I plan to rotate every other day between my sweets, spices and musks, and my fruits, flowers and perfumes.

Friday, January 28, 2005

Another weekend in the city has just about arrived, and so has the stress that goes with it. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned since leaving Phoenix is to never think you’ve escaped something for good! The stress may be nothing compared to other places, but still, it’s there, nonetheless. I almost wish those animals had come last Sunday so that I could know I probably wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while, but now I’m left to anticipate what shit this Sunday may bring. Oh well, I’ll just keep reminding myself that there are only 13 more Sundays left here.

She left just before Tom left for work this morning. I wonder where she could’ve gone so early.

We’re done with Netflix and Webshots. I’m hoping Tom will be able to hack the 2 out of 4 daily premium pictures from Webshots, though I doubt it. I’d think they’d be pretty hacker-safe about that, but we’ll see. I doubt I’ll return to these things if we ever have more money because you know how I hate to have to keep starting over. I hate the part-time, sometimes-I-can, sometimes-I-can’t routine I’ve been on for so many years now. I want to either just do something regularly or not do it at all.

Tom heard at work that Walmart, which is expanding into a supercenter, is about to hire 300 people, so he’s thinking of applying there. If he could get hired there, we’d get a 10% discount on groceries and other merchandise, and he could transfer to another Walmart Supercenter in another state/town if they had an opening, because they’re everywhere. The pay’s shitty, but they do get raises and it should be more than what he’s making now (he’ll never get a raise where he is now). A coworker’s wife said she’s only been there two months and they’ve already raised her to $8.40 an hour.

Despite the not-so-good pay, I don’t know if God would allow Tom to work there what with how convenient it would be. We’d both almost certainly have insurance too, including dental.

I’m 125, which I first hit almost 3 weeks ago, so now I’m virtually certain that I won’t lose any more weight. I could if I starved myself even more, but I don’t want to. At least this diet saves money and keeps me from gaining.

Saturday, January 29, 2005

If I were doing this diet to lose weight, yesterday’s setback would’ve had me pissed enough to up my determination, and today’s setback would have me totally discouraged. I’m back to 126. Typical diet, after all. It works at first, then stops.

I slept with just the sound machine and an earplug because I was sick of having the draft on me from the fan. I’ll have to have it on tomorrow, though, in case the animals come. I should be going to sleep around the same time they’d come, if they come, although it’s easier to fall asleep to noise than to fall asleep first and then have it get noisy. It’s not that it’d be “noisy.” Just bangy and vibrant like sonic booms.

I sleep shitty half the time when I’m on nights because the city stress wakes me up constantly. When I sleep at night, though, I sleep better. It’s still a million times quieter here than anyplace I lived in as an adult in Phoenix or back East.

I just hope to hell we can find a place in a neutral zone. One that isn’t so far out and that won’t have the sounds of hunters and sonic booms, but that doesn’t have neighboring houses so damn close. I also hope there are more trees to block sounds and give us added privacy, and that if we do go to a warmer climate, dogs aren’t left outside to bark 24/7 like in Phoenix. I don’t know if they do that everywhere it’s warmer, or if it’s just a Western custom.

Monday, January 31, 2005

Tomorrow should be a good day for Paula, despite the shitty weather they’ve been having there. She should get her package.

I wonder if I’ll hear from Tina. It would be kind of rude and ungrateful to not at least get a ‘thank you’ note, but if I don’t, I don’t.

Later…

I check every now and then to satisfy my curiosity as to what’s going on with Mary’s case, but there are never any new updates that I can find. I know our justice system is fucked up and that things tend to move awfully slow when it comes to the courts, but I can’t believe she’s still sitting in jail with apparently nothing going on! I couldn’t even find any upcoming court dates mentioned. Maybe the vibe I had of her getting out in the fall of this year was way off. Maybe she’ll sit in jail waiting forever for this case to close!

It seems we’ve traded places, Bev and I. Now she’s the one out more. I just haven’t had any place to go, or better yet, any money. So broke. Always, always broke! Where will we be in a year from now?

Poor.

In 2 years from now?

Poor.

In 5 years?

Poor.

In 20?

Poor. Always poor.

It’s funny how much I’ve gained in the time I’ve been out of jail, despite how much I’ve lost as well, and what with how broke we always are. I sure got a lot of MP3s, dolls and other things since then, even if I ended up not liking some of the dolls. And look how much my writing has improved since then.

We managed to get through all of January without the animals next door, but I’m sure they’ll be back sometime during our remaining 89 days here.

I’ll miss some things about the duplex itself. The bedroom’s so much better for daytime sleeping than the Maricopa one was. On sunny days it’s darker than the Maricopa one was on its gloomiest days.

Tom sent for a brochure on Redding, yet it didn’t tell us much about living there. It was basically a tourist brochure for the rich. We certainly could never afford to rent a houseboat on a lake at a resort.

Since I’m 100% sure I’m not going to lose any more weight, unless I miraculously get the willpower to deal with the never-ending hunger, I’m not going to chart my weight on a daily basis, just weekly. And it’ll be to maintain my weight only since I can’t lose. I just try to look at the bright side of keeping the weight. Sure I’d look better if I lost it and rocking would be easier and my clothes would fit better, but with the extra weight, it may make handling the doll easier, even if she’s still years away. It should also help when the next Tami of Valleyhead or Bonny of Woodside Terrace or Barbara of Norwich or Nancy of jail goes to threaten me. I’m not holding back no matter how much of a hold they may have on me, let alone weight, height, strength and experience. Even if I was sure to be beaten to a bloody pulp, the point will be that I stood up for myself and up to them as well.

I realized something that made me wish my hair was completely gray, as funny as that may sound. If it were gray, I’d have a wider variety of color selections to dye it with. Right now I’d have to bleach and strip it to get it blond or even a light golden brown, though I doubt I’d want to have my hair those colors. I could redden it easier and even do some far-out colors like pink, purple and blue if it were lighter to begin with.

As much as I thoroughly believe Michael Jackson is as guilty of child molestation as charged, I don’t see why they even bother to drag the little pedophile into court. The rich, black male is sure to get off, not just because he is a rich, male and black, but because of the riot, they’d certainly have on their hands if he didn’t. Blacks are such sore losers, though they shouldn’t give in to their immature tantrums just because they can’t handle it when a famous black person is made to pay for their crime. We’ve got to take a stand against them and show them they can’t always get their way. Nobody always gets their way, and why they ever thought they should be any different, beats me.

To keep my fragrances special and so as not to get too used to any of them, I’ve paired them up. I’ll rotate between two scents each day, and right now I have 24. Today’s Patchouli and Sugar Plum day. Tomorrow will be Hazelnut and Gingerbread.

People sure do jump the gun on the holidays here. Valentine’s Day is two weeks away yet they already have these Valentine’s theme music stations on Yahoo.

Later…

I did hear back from Tina, after all, though all I got was a 5-dollar bill. No note or anything else. That’s cool, though, as money is more needed than notes. I didn’t specifically ask for money, but I mentioned that the incense normally sells for $1 and the burner for $4. I’d have added a ‘thank you’ note and been generous enough to send $10 for postage and just for remembering and taking the time to send it, but any bit we can get helps.

Tom says there may not have been a note because she may’ve not wanted the incense and therefore, she grudgingly paid for it. No, she wanted it. If there’s anything personal that prevented her from enclosing a note, it’s that she didn’t make $650 off of us.

I decided to end my pairs game because I get sick of having the same two scents going all day and I get to missing the other scents. I’d rather just burn what I’m in the mood to burn until that scent runs out.

Bob said the Bump & Grind oil came in today, but his supplier missed the White Shoulders. Figures, huh? If I’d ordered any other scent; that’s the one they’d have missed. Due to an awesome thing I learned about SOS, I asked Bob if the White Shoulders was made from the exact same oil as the incense oil, which I thought was way off. If it is, I asked that he substitute it for Hugo Boss or Patchouli, which costs the same. Whatever body oil he sends, I told him he could hold it till he has everything in stock.

What I learned from SOS is that there are two different grades of oil yet they cost the same - manufacturers and cosmetics. With the cosmetic, it’s not only good for burners but as body oil, too! I’m definitely determined to switch from sticks to oils due to the residue the sticks leave. My monitor looks like it did when I smoked.

I’ve been doing regular checks on Redding’s temperatures. It seems like it may be warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer which makes me fear it may be noisy. If we can get some space and some trees between the neighbors, a little noise may be worth it because I’m already sick to death of winter. Winters here may not be like back east, but they’re bad enough. So as long as every yard doesn’t have a dog left outside to bark 24/7, and the driveway closest to ours doesn’t have a basketball hoop, it may be an ideal place to go. There’d be more job opportunities for Tom, too.

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