Sex young hidden

High vibrations are generally associated with positive qualities and feelings, such as love, forgiveness, compassion and peace. On the other hand, low vibrations are associated with darker qualities such as hatred, fear, greed and depression. When we are in a state of high vibration, we experience some strong positive feelings. They may vary, but there are some common things. Most of us instinctively understand energy vibrations. We immediately know if we have walked in on an argument, even if we didn’t hear a word because we feel the tension in the room. Honestly, the simplest answer to the question is this: To maintain a high vibration, keep raising it. Raise your vibration to a new level of light by integrating your lessons, meditating daily, exercising, eating healthy, and releasing fear and lower levels of energy. Do the things that support you in raising your vibration on a consistent basis. A high vibration will keep you in an optimal state of productivity, flowing easily from one movement to the next. You will feel perfectly balanced, neither overwhelmed nor bored. You will often feel like you are “in the zone.” 8. The High Vibrational Diet. For a moment, consider looking at the vibrational frequency of foods, rather than their color, texture, cost, flavor, or nutritional qualities. High vibrational foods are those that have a greater level of light than density. High vibration foods are those that nourish your body, assist with detoxification, increase your light quotient (the level of light you’re able to carry) and raise your vibrational frequency. If you consistently wake up feeling compassionate, enthusiastic, and ready to conquer the day, your vibrations are soaring high. On the other hand, if you're feeling bored, stuck, and generally blasé, then chances are your vibrations are low and it's time to check out these 15 easy ways to raise them back up. 1. People with high vibrations are for the most part in good health and comfortable with their finances. This is because they are operating on a level that resonates with the universe. Because they are where they need to be they are able to manifest things within their lives. 7. Hey Guys! I'm Lissette! Thank you so much for visiting my channel! Tarot Reading is a passion of mine that I tapped into in 2017. For me, tarot was a highly ...

2013.08.05 10:21 Sex young hidden

Each of us vibrates at twelve specific levels and one overall level according to the planetary placements in our chart. The specific criteria by which to measure a planet's level of purity or vibration are: dignity, polarity, element, mode, and gender. [Link To Vibration Books](http://www.librarising.com/astrology/fwa/vibration.html)
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2020.09.24 21:58 Embarrassed_Donut_51 Sex young hidden

Good afternoon,
I am posting from a throwaway - sorry I didn't read the note at the top before picking one of Reddit's suggested names.
This may be a bit long, but please bear with me.
I (35F) have a very strained and tumultuous relationship with my (16F) daughter.
As a bit of history - she has diagnosed PTSD, depression, and anxiety. She has been inpatient psychiatric care a handful of times and in residential psychiatric care about 4 years ago.
A year ago she transitioned from online school to regular, in-person school. To me, it seems like this is the crux of what has changed. At the time she was highly motivated, in all advanced classes, playing violin with the symphony, she had these big goals and dreams.
Over the past year, I have watched her basically throw this all away. I knew her depression was flaring up and that she was seeing the school counselor. She started dating a boy who I didn't like much, but not just because he was dating my daughter, he was rude and inconsiderate - pressured her into sex and came to her concerts just to be on his phone the entire time. Eventually, I told her no more contact with this kid.
In May she was caught with a boy in her room at her Dad's house - and when confronted - she ran away. To this boy's house and his family refused to make her leave and police had to be involved, etc. We also found out she was sending nudes online to strangers and smoking pot.
She was grounded for a few months and really seemed to be making changes and had cut this boy out. She got her electronics back in August and seemed okay.
Until last week. She went to therapy for her first session with a not-school counselor and it went badly. She ran away and was missing for over 24 hours. Eventually, we found her and I took her to the hospital. She's inpatient again now, for the depression because she said she was actively suicidal. We are looking at residential care again.
She had this whole hidden online life on Discord where she was talking to this boy and several hundred other people, sending nude photographs, basically, people are buying things and sending them to her Dad's house - still bringing the boys through the window, involved in drugs, pills, cutting... I even got a restraining order for her against the boy based on her statement that he is blackmailing her with releasing the photos and bringing her drugs and entering her father's house through a window, etc. This obviously has her upset.
All she talks about at the hospital is how much she hates living with me. I am not a perfect Mom but I do try really hard to give her a different life than how I grew up - I was abused as a kid. I do get angry and sometimes I yell at her. I am also in therapy. She has told her therapist she is fine bouncing from residential facility to another if needed until she turns 18 so she never has to come home.
My parenting style has been both "let her learn her lesson and be a friend" and "be very strict and controlling" and neither have worked at all. Part of this is her mental illness, but part of it is how things are at home and I want nothing more than to be able to give her a happy life.
I don't know how to connect with her and show her that I have her best interest at heart, while also maintaining appropriate boundaries and giving her a safe place to land. Being a parent in the age of the internet is so hard and I want to help, but I am feeling very emotionally burned out. I don't WANT her to learn the lessons the hard way, or end up in jail or worse.
Young adults or teens here - how would you ask a parent to help you in this situation. Parents - how would you help your kid through this?
submitted by Embarrassed_Donut_51 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 20:39 Helipilot22 Young hidden sex

Story Time
Since 5 years old, I was diagnosed with ADHD and Asperger's which is now referred to as ASD "Autism Spectrum Disorder". It entailed a hyperactivity along with delayed learning of what I'd narrow down to instincts. I did learn to question at a young age. When I was around the age of 5 I recall asking myself constantly, "what allows me to have this experience?". The further through the school years I went, the more isolated I'd become. Little socialization, and a bucket full of stigma and self-hatred. This made me great with the ladies, jokingly not. But that was all part of my coming to this moment, of which I plan to describe to the best of my ability.
Since the start of 2020, my life started finding a track to learning what I needed to know. What I could see as useful in the future. The experiences I've had were like drug hits in my brain, giving me the feeling of being alive. In depressive states of mind, I'd just utter the words, "keep breathing". Because I knew this life was a rollercoaster of emotion. One day you're high, while you seemingly sink lower on the flip side. Going through the suicidal ideation stage, those words helped drag me to the next day no matter how dreadful.
Most of the negative came from my mind wishing I could have something I couldn't which was the truth. At the time I couldn't grasp the mathematics required to graduate. I had a lot of questions about my life, so I took up writing and reading philosophy. I did really well in english and creative writing enticed me. Something I felt would come in handy at some point, I digress. I've learned considerable amounts about the physical world and now for whatever reason socialization is just a game to me. But I don't play it without integrity. I do care for my fellow man as I know what's dragging him down.
The work and dating life was something I found many faults in. I'd gotten to that work, sleep, work stage and couldn't find true north. Dating felt like a game of aesthetics and stability hidden behind a veil of lust and deception. Sex is now no different than alcoholism in so far as it's addictive and destructful. I've been down that road before. Sure sex is fun, fun in being comfortable with another person when you're the most vulnerable. Without a connection or something resembling the idea of love, I felt sex was a tiring act for something I could do better by myself. The urge being strictly instinctual, as well as attraction. But attraction has been guised just like mainstream music in recent times. Actual beauty ignored, and we only see the material that covers it. We scratch the surface of something infinite.
Mid July 2020, I had crashed my motorcycle. I had gotten a concussion that healed surprisingly fast. But the hole it lead me down was the key to my problems. I realized everything I had and wanted were just tools to ignore my suffering. But most of those tools were in learning, and visualizing. Just like drinking to excess, narcotics, promiscuity, self improvement and destruction. I bought the motorcycle and really enjoyed the escape from thought. A tool of ignorance, which there's no harm in doing. But most people go to reckless lengths to dissolve the past. I've experienced the darkest hells, and the brightest of lights that make you feel alive on the inside. But this is all my perspective which is subjective to my experience alone. In the beginning of August, I was to go on a vacation with my family. I decided to start being honest with them about why I felt the way that I did. I didn't want to go to somewhere I'm supposed to enjoy when I feel like my world was crumbling beneath me. This is where Amor Fati comes into play.
I had brought with the books I had written in since 2016 with the intention to re-read it, and write about my recent past. I did exactly that as I was tossing and turning with thoughts that I had to get down on paper. At the bottom of the page, "You have to kill who you think yourself to be, to really know who you are in this world." Think of it as a psychological ego death. Of which I had studied psychology a bit and understood the personality in a Jungian sense. Not until I awoke the very next day in a mental and physiological sense that rocked me to the core for the next seven days. Raised by my mother, I was very introverted but still interested in things. I'd say being high in agreeableness led me on the path that I am now. But after that night, the psychology made sense. As that was my shadow that slipped into me.
The best I can to to narrow down what had happened was, my evils were known, my goods were highlighted and strengthened. Fears, beliefs, and values were all re-evaluated. Fear being the greatest of them. To do away with unneeded stress when I'm alive and living in this moment. I knew what I wanted and I knew there was no harm word's can inflict except in this modern time where words have transformed into weapons. Emotional attachment to things other than yourself. I learned everything I didn't know in very little time socially speaking, and there's an off chance I'm practicing pool alone. The beauty is of not caring about anything but yourself, while being mindful of how you carry yourself is incredible. Unless you're just looking for attention or being a prick. I only do when I have something to say.
Taking in everything I knew
Of course I wanted a woman to care for. No not just sex, but I kept attraction important. I had revaluated the roles humans play and it was all clear. When lust kills me but love changes my life. How someone reacts is incredibly telling about their character. I decided to meet a few friends who like to drink a lot on the weekends, so I offer to be their ride. Took me two hours to coaxed them into going. I had enough of the altercations that go on in such environments. Men/Woman when drunk, show their true self. Angry just means not at ease with oneself. Just my assumptions. We arrive and a few people I know are there, I start dancing and enjoying myself while only having one beer. After about an hour, I was dancing and had the urge to look at the bar as if something told me to do so.
I saw a girl I'd never seen before, but she was incredibly attractive to me. A younger woman that had the same aesthetics as me, hair, eye's and complexion. Like a ray from above lit her hair aflame in blue tint. That's our instincts working in our favor, and I was mindful of it. Looking into my past was the truth teller. I instantly walked up and introduced myself. As happy as given the first breath of air, I looked into her blue eyes and pupils the size of the universe. I had asked her if anyone has ever said she looked like Margot Robbie, she replies, "My friends have, now I got to see." Pulls her phone out and denies it, I'm like, sure hon. A buddy wanted to play a game of pool so I obliged. Shaking her hand sent a shock through my spine as well as a shock from the eyes. Not craving attention was a key to gaining her trust because I'd never wish harm upon her. I happily went off to play pool. I wanted to see what would follow.
In the midst of playing, I was shaken to the core about her. Something was there and I knew it. I look my friend in the eye, "who the hell is that?". "who?", he whispers. I see a blur walking right in front of my face to the right, but I was too focused on telling him how serious I was. Then I suspected it could be her. I glanced behind me, tilted my head back while rolling my eyes back; As it was her. Very soft spoken, she asks if I'd want to play pool. I happily agreed. In the mean time I kept my mind in the game as much as possible. Sadly I played better when she was 30 feet away, not 5. We ended up playing two rounds with a few of our mutual friends surrounding. But there was a specific moment I looked at my friend midst game, held my finger to the artery in my neck. I utter, "I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack!" Of course I said it with the biggest smile I've known my face to produce. I looked behind me to see her lining up her cue, as she was staring right back into my eyes. Everything before and after the night at camp lead me on a path of doing specific things in order to see reality as it is. As well as meeting her no matter the outcome or consequences. They were worth it.
We had finished our two rounds, then she played another with my friend as there was just enough time till pub close for another. I had to go outside to breath in fresh air to control myself. I went back to the pool table and she asked if I could give her a ride home because she was tipsy, I agreed but I knew I had 5 other friends I had to bring home in the opposite direction, as if I hate driving. More therapeutic than acupuncture provided you're around nature and not the concrete jungle. I only wished the drive was longer. We sat and talked about relationships to an extent. I just said that I don't agree with the modern idea of relationships. She asked, "why?" in confusion. "Because lack of communication is probably the the greatest killer of good partnerships." She thought that made sense. The second we keep our mouth shut in a case where something should be known, it buries a demon that always festers at a later date, if not followed by several others. Being like 4am, we hug and say our goodbyes after exchanging contact info. I conclude the night with music, coffee, and endless writing.
To be continued:
It's not until we're at the bottom, come to terms with it, accept it, that we finally see a path to the top. The bottom shows who we are at the core. We see our goods and evils. and their accepted and you learn your worth. After this I've discovered the sexiest most beautiful organ in human anatomy, the eyes. Even your own. Once you can look in the mirror, smile in true happiness, and see your own pupils dilate, you know it's the real you.
You live becoming cynical of love's existence as time passes. Through repeated pain, you feel like it's a lie or an illusion. So did I. Once you learn to accept who and what you are, you'll see both sides of the equation. You'll be able to define the difference between what really matters and what's benign. The things that make you stronger versus the things that destroy your soul as you feel it. Once you can see yourself and see beauty, you'll see the beauty in others. Accepting their past, and present as we all have unique circumstances. As rare as a similar fingerprint. But each as beautiful as a sunset/rise combined.
Love is real by feeling it, and knowing it's real. A swift glance at your face in a spark of serendipity with your assumed to be preoccupied mind of curiosity in game. A sunlight's glint off the purest of waterbodies with it's ultraviolet hue like a laser beam; the universe could be seen in her eyes as I'd seen it before. All the pain and love that we feel expanding exponentially. Completely comfortable with the future. But I can still see you're lost as I once was. That's what's worth protecting in this finite hourglass of life.
Want to go kayaking this weekend?
submitted by Helipilot22 to love [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 04:09 horatiowilliams Sex young hidden

Hi everyone!
There has been another uptick in new posts. This is great! I'm glad this subreddit is finally getting traction.
However, with new posts comes new NSFW posts. I would like to clarify something with the community:
NSFW means genitals and nipples. And I guess also anuses.
Borderline-NSFW includes all kinds of pornographic images or sexual images, including those which are just-barely-SFW because the genitals and nipples are cleverly obscured. Your image is still NSFW. You aren't fooling anyone.
Some of you are sex workers, and that's okay! Your job or career is not important here. You can post your SFW razorfree images here whether you are a sex worker, an attorney, a pilot, or whatever you do for a living.
No matter your profession, however, you are expected to post only SFW images to /Razorfree. From here on out, both NSFW and borderline-NSFW images are forbidden.
What are borderline-NSFW images?
Here are some common elements which make a photo borderline-NSFW or pornographic in nature:

  • Extreme close-up to any body part. For example if breasts are the main subject of the photo and the rest of you are outside the frame. There are exceptions, like if you're taking a photo of your arms or legs or something. But many of the semi-pornographic images submitted here are extreme closeup shots or sexual point-of-view shots.
  • Nudity, in which the private parts are somehow hidden but the subject of the photo is still nude. It's possible there are images of naked women that are SFW, like if Michelangelo painted you in 1535. Maybe there are SFW photos with naked people. The photography of Ben Hopper comes to mind. But I think at least 95% of the time, nudity is NSFW. We're still small enough to go on a case-by-case basis.
  • If the intent of the photo is obviously to sell or promote sexual services. Some photos can be pornographic without being NSFW. It depends on a lot of conditions, including pose, angle, lighting, location, facial expression, clothing, how close the camera is to your body, etc. It's sort of a pornographic energy that I'm trying to avoid, if that makes any sense. Photos which are taken with the intent to sell sex carry a certain energy. It can be spotted in the pose, the camera angle, the distance between the camera and the person's body, sometimes the facial expression, and the clothing or lack thereof.
  • For example: Not every moment of a pornographic video has naked people in it. But you can tell throughout the entire video that it's pornographic, from the music, the actors, the location, the body language, the tone of the dialogue, and other cues which are unique to pornography - the energy of the photo or the video is pornographic. It is very obvious when this is the case.
If you are a sex worker that's okay! If you want to share your page and you follow Rule 3, Rule 4, and Rule 5, that's okay too! But /Razorfree is not a marketing tool for sex workers to accumulate followers. Literally all of the other subreddits about hairy women, including those listed in the sidebar, are marketing tools for you to accumulate followers. /Razorfree is a discussion subreddit for women to talk about body hair in a normal way, and for men to join the conversation in a similarly normal and appropriate way. This is not a place for marketing, advertising, masturbating, or pornography.
In the past few weeks, there have been at least four incidents in which I removed photos for being too NSFW, only to have the young woman get extremely angry with me when I tried to (in my opinion) calmly explain why their photo is borderline-NSFW or pornographic in nature. I wish I could share some of the conversations I've had. I won't, in the interest of their privacy, but I wish I could. One woman told me that I am a pervert because I interpreted her photo as being NSFW. But, her post was entirely borderline-NSFW! It had a nipple in it! And the angle was extremely pornographic. Basically her nipples were in the foreground and her face was in the upper background, and her armpits were open. She told me that, because I am a pervert who decided to sexualize her borderline-NSFW-ass photo, that she will leave the subreddit, and that furthermore I have no business being a moderator for a safe space for women. In her post history I could see that she was a sex worker, which means she must have been aware that she was producing NSFW images. I told her that she is welcome to post images to /Razorfree as long as they are SFW. I also told her that other images she has posted here in the past are perfectly fine. But still, she got very angry and left. This was one of several times when somebody got really angry with me for asking them to post SFW images to /Razorfree. Honestly, I don't understand it. It's not difficult to take an SFW photo. Any normal selfie, or any photo in which you're wearing regular street clothes and are in daylight, should generally be SFW.
If you post a borderline-NSFW photo by mistake, and even if you do it many times, I will not ban you. Okay? Nobody is going to get banned over this. What I will do is explain why I think your photo is NSFW, delete it, and ask you to please post SFW photos only. You can post a hundred SFW photos in this subreddit if you want to. What if you really aren't sure about your image? Go ahead and post it! Nothing bad will happen if I delete your post, I promise you. In some cases, I will explain why I think your photo is borderline-NSFW without necessarily deleting it. This is what I already do. I honestly find it baffling that some of you have gotten so enraged over this. You have the entire rest of Reddit to post whatever you want. All of the other subreddits about hairy women are completely pornographic. Even /HairyArms, which has no reason on Earth to be a pornographic subreddit, is almost 100% NSFW posts featuring naked people who are selling sex.
What we want here is one subreddit that is dedicated to SFW images and normal discussion about hairy women. If I let people post NSFW and borderline-NSFW material, this subreddit will quickly devolve into pornography, and then there will be zero SFW discussion subreddits on the topic of hairy women. We want one. Why does it have to be so difficult?
I would again like to share a mail I have received in my moderator inbox:
The harassing and pornogrqphic comments haven't gone away, and sex workers (I support sex work) have overrun the page. It's a NSFW page whether we like it or not, it's been taken over and it's out of anyone's hands at this point. I don't feel safe here and I hope I can find a safe place to feel comfortable about my body hair but it's not here. Good luck!
This is a tragedy. When I allow NSFW and Borderline-NSFW posts, we lose exactly the subscribers for whom this subreddit is intended - ordinary razorfree women. In their place, we get a lot of marketers and horny gentlemen making wet statements with tongue emojis. (If you're a horny gentleman you are allowed to be here as long as you are respectful and follow the rules.) To the four or five young women who got mad at me in recent weeks for deleting your posts, I wish you would understand this.
This is why I delete Borderline-NSFW posts. Because /Razorfree is not a Borderline-NSFW subreddit.
Edit: Apparently other SFW subreddits are having exactly the same problem.
submitted by horatiowilliams to razorfree [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 16:57 Landelande Sex hidden young

This is how my narcissism showed through my young life. Everything changed for me after twenties and I will make another post about it, because this is a long text. . . . Since I was as small as I can remember, I thought I was the most beautiful and intelligent girl in the world. I thought I was more powerful than anyone and my relationship with my controlling NPD father was based on being more powerful than him. I was manipulating him to think I loved him, just to finally cut him off out of nowhere, when my mother divorced him. And I didnt feel guilt one bit when I did. I was his favorite and only one because I always pleased him, but I only did it to keep him on a good mood. He called me after I ditched him, and he was screaming and crying. I didnt care.
I couldnt keep relationships or friendships for long. I switched groups about fifty times, made friends quickly, then burned bridges because I always got so mad at some point and couldnt forgive anyone. I iced them out, because they became evil in my eyes. Every social gathering I attended to, every new person I met, I was only thinking if they thought if I was beautiful. And every time they looked at me I thought, they think Im beautiful.
I was very humorous, social, the soul of the party. If I ever wronged anyone, If I ever yelled, said badly, I denied it when confronted. I always was fantazising about the future, where I would be the center of big crowds, the most beautiful and perfect person that everyone wanted to be with. I liked to make an icy stare if someone crossed me. As I would send murdering emotions to them. I wanted to be the best in art, sports, beauty, intelligence, dressing, makeup, personality, and sex was about showing power. And in my mind, I was the best at these.
When I was fifteen, I started to jump from relationship to another. I only was with people I didnt have a crush on, because I was too afraid with the people I felt crazy crush with. In my relationships I fought every day, and I couldnt let things go. I felt intense aggression towards my partners. Jealousy was my daily burning issue. Every time we broke up, I instantly moved on without dealing with any emotions.
My fantazy of a perfect life came to be true when I went to study abroad in Greece. Party many times a week, alcohol, sex, friends, many men who liked me, nobody knew who I was and I kept it hidden, only showed the happy side of me.
. . .
submitted by Landelande to NPD [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 14:09 Rha3gar Sex young hidden

My family… at least what remains of my family, has never been the kind to share stories, especially those telling of our history. You could imagine my surprise when I received my notice of inheritance of the Wolff Farm, once belonging to my Uncle Charlie and Aunt Clara.
I blame the long, lonesome nights for my growing curiosity. The curiosity that led me to the discovery of the separate, hidden diaries within the false bottoms of my Aunt and Uncle’s respective nightstands. As I said, my family members seldom share stories, but I now find it imperative to break this trend.
I have pieced together the separate accounts from their diaries and local news articles— and what I have discovered is unlike anything you have ever heard before. I have come to this sole conclusion: there are unexplainable beings in our world — truly sinister and ever-present.
Below is the story I have created through my research.
Charlie wiped his brow as thunder rolled in the distance. A symphony of raindrops fell on the crops and darkness washed over the farm as he pulled his tractor into the barn. Gunner happily wagged his tail and greeted Charlie as he walked inside the dimly lit farmhouse. Drying his head with towel, Charlie called-out to his wife, Clara, inquiring her plans for their supper. His question was met only with silence. Making his way to the base of the stairs, Charlie called out again. Lightning illuminated the interior of the home as his voice echoed through the halls. Charlie stared at the white carpet in horror during the brief moment of flashing blue-light. Dark-red droplets of liquid painted the stairs.
Time stood still as Charlie ran into master bathroom, covering his mouth as he screamed“NO, NO, NO” repeatedly. Clara cowered in the corner— her inner thighs stained crimson. She rocked back-and-forth, holding a blood-stained bundle of towels in her arms.
Charlie crouched down and gazed at what was once destined to be their child.
Anger and hopelessness rushed through his veins as he took the towels from Clara. She pleaded for Charlie to come back to her as he left the bathroom, descending the stairs and making his way outside into the pouring rain—grabbing a shovel from the shed. Gunner kept his distance as he followed his master deep into the woods.
Charlie struck the ground again-and-again as he dug the grave. Lightning danced along the trees as he placed the small, innocent corpse into the earth before filling the cavity with mud— and finally a large, flat stone. Charlie pointed the shovel at the whimpering dog as they retreated out of the woods and back home, promising the canine that if he ever dug up the grave— it would surely be the last thing he’d ever do.
The two years following that night were the darkest Clara and Charlie would ever see. A series of droughts decimated the crops and steered Charlie’s career from farmer to construction worker. When he punched out in the evenings, Charlie found solace in bourbon and Blair— the young, attractive bartender that poured it for him.
Clara’s days were filled with silence and daydreams of what should have been. She couldn’t bring herself to un-furnish the nursery, complete with a rocking chair, crib, changing table and pink-block-letters on the wall. The letters that spelled the name neither Charlier or Clara could bring themselves to say aloud. A-U-T-U-M-N.
The nursery door remained closed. An unspoken, unbroken rule.
Summer came to an end as a chill filled the air. Charlie staggered through the door. Cold, untouched food rested upon the kitchen table. The stench of the bar clung to him. Periods of prolonged silence and resentment accompanied this and most dinners. Another month of infertility had came and went, and neither Charlie nor Clara felt the need to discuss it.
As night fell, the couple completed their respective rituals. Charlie retreated to the recliner with a 6-pack, and Clara retired to the master bedroom. She stripped to her underwear and stared at her body in the mirror as she placed her hands over her lower belly and recited a quiet prayer.
As Clara closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, a breeze whistled through the open window— and with it— a sharp noise pierced the silence. A voice whispered “Mama” and Clara’s eyes burst open as she grabbed her stomach and gasped. Charlie snored, face-down next to her on the bed as she got up and closed the window.
The following morning was filled with grey overcast and cold, thin air. Clara lit a cigarette on the front porch as Charlie’s truck disappeared down the gravel drive. His departure and Clara’s anxiety retreated in tandem. Heavy fog danced atop the Wolff pond and rolled along the desolate dirt patch that had once grown a vast sea of crops. Yet another reminder of what should have been.
As Clara put out the cigarette and turned to walk inside, something along the tree-line of the woods caught her eye. Approaching cautiously she discovered Gunner, still and staring at the threshold of the dense foliage. She called to him to no avail. Clara moved closer. Trembling uncontrollably, the dog urinated on himself where he stood. She knelt down to console the frightened German Shepherd. He turned and snarled, viscously snapping at her like a feral beast. Clara fell backwards in fear. She called-out again as the dog turned and ran off in the opposite direction, out-of-sight.
That night when Charlie returned home, Clara told him of the dog’s bizarre behavior. He theorized Gunner likely picked-up on a female’s scent and was filled with aggressive hormones. Charlie then broke the news to Clara that he would be leaving for a few days on a new project. She didn’t feel the need to respond.
Before bed, Charlie reminded Clara of two things. The first being her doctor’s appointment scheduled for the morning, and the second was that today was an ovulation day. The smell of stale beer turned Clara’s stomach as the couple struggled through un-passionate sex that evening. What was supposed to be the act of making love had become yet another tedious chore. Clara turned her head and looked down the darkness of the hall, her heart began to race.
The nursery door was ajar… ever so slightly.
Buzzing, fluorescent lights filled the doctor’s office with a low hum and harsh light. An elderly woman in a blue sweater smiled widely at Clara as she sat and read a magazine. When the nurse called Clara back, the old woman grabbed Clara’s wrist and told her “you’re a wonderful mother.” Clara stuttered a confused response and apology as she shuffled past.
The doctor filled Clara’s ears with the same story she heard over-and-over again. That all her levels looked normal, to keep trying, and get plenty of rest. Clara told the doctor of her issues with sleeping and anxiety. As she left the office with a fresh bottle of sleeping pills, she noticed the old woman was nowhere in sight.
The night was quieter with Charlie gone and Gunner still missing. Clara called Charlie’s hotel room, and was met with his annoyed tone. Charlie told her that he was exhausted and would be home in a few days. As she was hanging up, Clara thought she heard the sound of a female voice in the background. Clara convinced herself that Charlie probably had the TV on in the room.
A double dose of sleeping pills kicked-in, and Clara dreamt of the woods.
Running through the trees in the darkness, Clara followed the harsh sound of a baby wailing in pain. The cries rang so loudly, she thought her ears were going to bleed. Clara fell to her knees in a clearing in the woods and listened for the cries. The wailing was muffled now, coming from the soil beneath her. She dug frantically into the earth, scraping and clawing grass and dirt. As she raked her fingers deeper-and-deeper, blood began to pool from within the hole beneath her. The bloody-mud consumed her body as she sunk, and the baby’s cries turned to laughter.
Clara awoke in a cold sweat and hurried downstairs for glass of water and a cigarette. Just as she calmed herself down, Clara nearly retched when she noticed the fresh dirt caked beneath each fingernail.
Sleep-deprived, Clara looked out the window until the orange sunlight of dawn peaked through the blinds. She forced herself to get dressed and slowly made her way to the market. Clara couldn’t help but feel as though she was simply going through the motions of life. After checking out at the register, Clara walked to her car and noticed a familiar face standing in the parking lot. She took a deep breath and approached the old woman from the doctor’s office, still dressed in the same blue sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest. After a deep breath of confidence, Clara approached the woman and introduced herself. She told her they met the other day, and the woman nodded in agreement. Clara asked what she meant when she told her she was a good mother. The old woman spoke softly as she climbed into the driver’s seat. She told Clara that she drives by the Wolff Farm every now and again, and loves seeing her little girl playing in the woods. Before Clara could respond, the old woman waved goodbye and drove off.
That night, Clara flipped on the TV and stared at the black-and-white screen. The noise and light soothed her as her eyes grew heavy once-again, taking another white pill for good measure. The sound of the TV static woke Clara as the sun disappeared over the horizon, the volume increasing with each passing second. The light strained Clara’s eyes as crawled towards the television set on all fours. Reaching for the dial, the screen changed — taking her off-guard. The static replaced with an image a woman holding a baby in a rocking chair. Clara squinted at the screen as her eyes struggled to make-out the details. She reached for the dial again, turning the TV off. Clara laughed at herself for foolishly being scared. As she got up from the floor, the TV kicked on once again. The woman now hung from a noose above the chair, which continued to rock back-and-forth. Clara gazed in disbelief, frozen in fear. The TV’s sound of the rocking creaked rhythmically against the wood floor. Clara screamed and pulled the plug from the wall. The noise continued as she came to the realization that the sound wasn’t coming from the TV— but from the rocking chair in the nursery upstairs.
Charlie returned home that same evening, changing his shirt in his truck to hide the smell of Blair’s perfume. He entered and was distraught when he found the farmhouse to be empty. He called for Clara, answered only by his echoes.
And for the next few months, Charlie was alone.
Family, friends and neighbors searched the surrounding area to no avail. Clara had simply vanished without a trace.
Blair frequented the Wolff home as Charlie had come to the conclusion that Clara would not be returning. Charlie and Blair sat near the fireplace, drinking and talking as they did on most evenings. Tonight was different, however. Charlies vision began to blur. Blair lied face-down on the carpet after just half a drink. Charlie looked to the bourbon in his hand, then to the decanter. The flames of the fire danced as he swirled the amber liquid, white foam clung to the sides of the glass. Charlie stumbled to the bathroom, attempting to purge himself. Just before losing consciousness, he caught a glimpse of Clara’s empty sleeping pill bottle in the waste bin.
The blistering Winter wind woke Charlie from his daze. The ropes that bound him to the large oak tree dug into his shoulders. He tired to call out, but only small whimper escaped his lungs. As Clara approached him from within the woods, Charlie could hardly recognize her. Her disheveled clothes hung loosely from her gaunt frame. Clara stood before Charlie, and he was speechless. She told him of how she would leave him here to freeze to death— forgotten in the woods like their daughter. She cursed his name for taking their baby and burying her in the woods.
Charlie pleaded with his delusional wife, begging her to remember the truth of that night. Tears streamed from his eyes as he recounted the memory of of their stillborn child, the baby who was never given the chance to take her first breath. Clara only stared at him. The morbid realization that there was no getting through to Clara creeped-in. Charlie sunk his head as he quietly sawed at the ropes with the knife in his back pocket. Clara walked closer and called him a liar as she stroked his cheek.
"Autumn is ready for you.”
Charlie hadn’t heard the name spoken aloud in years. The ropes held by just a few threads against his blade. Clara knelt down near the foxhole at the base of a large oak, and Charlie eyed her curiously. Clara whispered into the hole for a few moments before stepping away.
Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest as the creature emerged from the hole.
His eyes and brain battled with one another as he tried to comprehend the distorted flesh, hair, and bone that stood before them on two legs— as if crudely impersonating a human being. Clara beamed with admiration, her vision and memories poisoned by the creature which guised itself as a beautiful child in her eyes.
The ropes snapped with a final slash of Charlie’s knife, and he fell before the creature— its decrepit finger scratching Charlie’s leg as he ran towards the tree-line.
The house came into view, and Charlie saw a glimmer of hope. His leg throbbed with pain, yellow pus oozed from the wound the creature left. He fell to the ground as new memories rushed through his mind, memories of raising a beautiful, healthy daughter. Charlie writhed as he fought the faux recollections, grasping to hold onto the truth.
Clara and the creature stood before him once more. Charlie turned towards them, and Clara smiled. Telling him of how he would truly see Autumn, his daughter, for the first time. The creature’s transformation displayed before him, tricking his mind into seeing the child that never was.
Enraged, Charlie scooped the creature up in his arms and ran. Clara followed slowly behind. The creature whispered into his ear as he stumbled towards the frozen pond. It told him that all would be over soon, how it would feed on them both— body, mind and soul— just as it had fed on countless others for centuries.
Charlie walked with the creature onto the thin ice, he turned and smiled at his wife one final time as a tear streamed down his face. In his arms he held the child, the one Clara promised he would see. In a final moment of clarity, Charlie saw the lie before him and jumped. His boots shattered the ice as he held the creature close — both descending into the darkness.
And as the frigid waters took the life from Charlie and the creature, Clara’s mind unclouded— free from pain, and ready to start anew.
submitted by Rha3gar to creepypod [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 23:56 ChonkyBeagle My son is a hateful incel, and I just cannot save him or defend him anymore.

My boy, my oldest child, was so good when he was little, but something broke inside of him when he was a teenager.
My wife and I always accepted, loved, and encouraged him. We pushed him to work hard and treat people with respect. I don’t know where exactly we failed him but as a father I feel responsible for the thing he’s turned into.
It started when he was 14. He had began to become withdrawn and emotional. We chalked it up to teenaged mood swings. For some reason he was just so angsty and bitter all the time. We were worried about his lack of social life and his over-reliance on his computer. He kind of hid himself in the online world so my wife and I began to limit his computer time, but he simply became more aggressive and confrontational.
His hygiene was bad, and he was always confrontational when we told him to shower or do laundry. His room stank horribly and we eventually had a huge fight over it where he physically shoved my wife and called her a bitch, and eventually we got him to at least clean and air out his room regularly on the grounds that it was our house and if he couldn’t maintain his space he wouldn’t be entitled to it - essentially we got to the point where we told him he wouldn’t be allowed his worldly possessions or privacy unless he took care of the space we all shared. the room still smelled and he was still rude about cleaning it but we could tell him to get it clean and he would do it after that.
We ended up getting a call from his school saying that a female student felt harassed by him. We were shown messages where he continually badgered her to have sex with him, threatened to “punish” her for stringing him along, sending her unsolicited nudes, telling her some violent fantasies of his, and eventually just descending into some horrid rage-filled rant about how she is just another “whore” and other things.
We were shocked. We explained to him why this behaviour was unacceptable, and I explained to him that it was ok to be sexually active but his actions were toxic and abusive.
I tried mentoring him man-to-man, taking him on camping trips and whatnot and talking to him about women and girls and trying to give him advice. I suggested he try showering, changing up his hair and facial hair styles, trying out different fashion styles, maybe going to the gym.
I told him some hard truths - that he doesn’t want a gross woman so he shouldn’t be a gross man. By gross I mean hygiene and looks. I explained to him that good looks are more hygiene and self care than genetics but he refused to accept what I said to him.
After that I caught him sniffing his sister’s panties in the laundry room - she was 12 at the time and he was 17. He assured me it had nothing to do with his sister, he said he just had a panty sniffing fetish and he pretended they belonged to girls from porno videos, but still I gave him hell for it, and he was grounded and lost his computer for 6 months. I went through his computer and I was disgusted by the kinds of hateful, racist, incel forums he frequented, the horrid things he said about women, and his save file was full of cartoon porn with girls of questionable ages. I wiped the hard drive completely and began strictly monitoring his online activity. I used parental filters to block incel sites and and porn sites that hosted cartoon porn.
The next big issue was something he did to my daughter’s friend. My daughter is 5 years his junior, and one day after a sleepover, my daughter came to me and said her friend wanted to tell me something but was afraid of what I would say.
My son cornered this 13 year old girl and physically blocked her path and touched her hair and face while making very inappropriate comments about her body and asking her if she liked to sleep naked and what kind of underwear she wore.
I tore into my son for that, my wife and I both shouted at him, and told him his behaviour was horrible and I told him then that if his actions got him arrested I would not defend him. He accused us of not loving him, but I told him the reason I was so passionately angry in that situation is because I do love him, and I want to help him become a good man so he can stop being so predatory and bitter and miserable. I told him some hard truths. That he did this all to himself and that he is the only one he can blame for how bitter he is.
I suggested he look to women his own age and he went on a rant about how it was a waste of time because women were already whores (and his definition of a whore is a woman who has had sex even just once) by 17. I called him out on his bullshit and expressed clearly that if he harassed young girls anymore I would personally turn him in.
I invited my daughters friend over after and I personally apologized to her for her experiences, I cried in shame for my son’s behaviour and begged her forgiveness for allowing her to feel unsafe in my home and promised her that if she ever felt uncomfortable she could come to my wife and I and we would always believe and help her. Luckily, my daughter didn’t lose this friend, but for safety I installed a lock on my daughter’s door.
We got my son therapy but he refused to engage with the therapist, calling him a “sand nigger” and “pajeet” and “terrorist”. His next therapist was a “chad”, so he didn’t relate to that either.
We fought about him not trying, not getting a job, and he said he couldn’t get one because of the immigrants, to which I pointed out that he was struggling because he got fired from his high school jobs for being lazy.
After those fights, my wife tried to empathize with him and understand what made him so bitter but he flipped out at her, and called her a cock-gargling whore and said that she fucked her way through dozens of men until she found a “beta-fag” who was willing to shelter her for missionary sex.
My wife, who works and contributes to the family income, who is an independent, professional woman.
Honestly, I lost it more than ever before. I had never been so angry when I heard what he said. That may be his mom, he may be my son, but the woman he was abusively tearing into is my god damn wife. No one can treat my wife like that.
I am ashamed to say in my anger, he shoved me and I physically retaliated, shoving him back, and pinning him against the wall. I felt ashamed of myself, I have never been an angry or violent person, but I couldn’t control myself. I’ve never put my hands on either of my children in such a way in my life, I hate child abusers... but this boy was no child. He was a grown man.
He was intimidated and backed down, and for a while he was peaceful.
The last straw was this week.
My daughter has dated 3 people her whole life. A boy, a girl, and now another boy. We were as open about sex with my daughter as we were with my son. We asked if she would like to have a question-free steady supply of condoms left in her bathroom drawer, and if she wanted to get on birth control. She said no to both questions with her first boyfriend. She never really brought him home but we met him at one of her recitals. When she had a girlfriend she went over to her house all the time, and didn’t want to bring her to the same house her brother lived in, a sentiment I understood.
But her most recent boyfriend has a lot going on behind the scenes in his family. He’s a nice boy but his mom is a single mom of 4 and they struggle.
This boy started coming around a month after they got together. I like him. My daughter is happy with him. He treats her with respect. He is an intelligent boy. He’s an absolute gentleman. He’s respectful and polite in our home. He calls me sir, calls my wife Ma’am, he offers to help with the cooking or dishes or cleaning while he’s visiting, he talks to us, he’s a bit of an amateur cook himself and brings us food all the time to say thank you for taking care of him, when we go out for dinner he always offers to pay for himself and my daughter (though I know he doesn’t have much money so I always pay). When getting out of the car he opens the door for my wife and offers her his hand (he sits behind her for leg room). He holds the doors, when we leave somewhere he helps my daughter put her jacket on like those sweet old fashioned couples.
This young man works hard, and gives what little he has to his mom and siblings. Like I said, I really respect the boy. I offered him money once for groceries for his family but he turns me down and says he would feel guilty accepting my money like that. He’s appreciative of things - in the winter, it was -20 and he had only a hoodie, so I draped my jacket over his arms, and I said “take it son, it’s cold.” He had tears in his eyes as he said thank you, and I made some excuse about wanting to get rid of the jacket and told him he could keep it if he brought cookies for us next time he visited.
When Christmas came along, I invited him over for supper, and when I went to pick him up I delivered some presents for his family, and on the ride back to my house we had a moment. He was crying because he didn’t have much to give us - he got everyone in our house a present but he cried anyways because he felt it wasn’t enough to make up for what we gave him. I pulled over, and I just hugged him, and I said to him that it wasn’t the value of what he got, it was that he got us anything at all. I thanked him for treating my daughter so well, and I told him he would always be welcome in my home.
My own son didn’t get us anything for christmas, not even a card bought with the money we give him. This boy got my wife and I matching wine glasses since we like to share a bottle every now and then.
My son didn’t eat with us. He pillaged the food table and ran away to his room alone while my daughter’s boyfriend met my sister and her family and my parents and my uncle. They all told me how charming he was and how polite he was. Meanwhile after dinner my son told my 5 year old nephew “fuck off Faggot” for asking to play a game with him. A man over 20 years old.
Last week, my wife and I went out for an evening to ourselves. We went to dinner, then we went to an upscale bar to play some pool, then we went home.
When I walked in the door, the kids were screaming at each other. I came in to see my son and my daughter’s boyfriend fighting. The boyfriend was just pushing my son back and trying to redirect him, my son was throwing punches and charging him. My daughter was crying and sitting against the wall clutching her face. I got between them and pushed them apart, and demanded to know what was happening.
My son went on a tirade about how he found birth control pills and heard “whore” sounds from her room, so he kicked open her door and discovered them having sex, he said he couldn’t believe his own sister would “be a nigger’s whore” and called the poor boy a monkey and other things.
My wife got my daughter and her boyfriend out of there and I yelled at my son for how he was acting. Eventually I got nowhere with him so I made him wait in his room. I went to talk to my daughter. I apologized to her boyfriend, crying as I did, telling him that I hope he could forgive me for letting this happen. He said he was sorry for getting violent but that he only did it because my son hit her. My daughter cried and said he was a psycho and threatened to rape her, and that he admitted to ejaculating on her toothbrush and hair brush.
I charged into his room, and I said firmly that he should pack his bags and leave. I told him I would pay to have his things sent to him, wherever he went, but that he was leaving tomorrow.
My wife stayed at my sisters, and my daughter and her boyfriend spent the next few nights at his place.
The next day I practically threw my son out of the house kicking and screaming.
I took his key back and changed the alarm codes and garage door code. A day later I had a message requesting some of this things - mostly his gaming stuff - be delivered to some strange apartment block I didn’t recognize a couple of towns over. A college aged man buzzed me in and I delivered the stuff. I didn’t see my son.
My wife and I then went through his room. My daughter’s boyfriend came over and helped me move his furniture to the garage. We threw out his mattress and some other more gross and smelly things, and we took out the carpet to be replaced.
Hidden in the closet was a treasure trove of my daughter’s underwear, so saturated with old, moldy semen that they were as hard as bricks. The unnerving part was that there were a few pairs my daughter was adamant didn’t belong to her. And they were too small for my wife. It was possible he stole them from my nieces.
There was a sketchbook containing graphic drawings of my son violently raping different women and keeping little girls chained up in some kind of sex dungeon. I went through his old phone that was still working, and all his photos were screenshots of my nieces and their friends in their bikinis, lots of cartoon porn, lots of red pill and incel and Trump memes. He still had messenger, so I checked his messages, most of them were just him trying to harass women and underaged girls.
I checked his Email and... much to my disgust, he stole private photos of my wife from her phone, and he was selling them.
Today, I went to the police with everything and told them everything.
I gave my baby boy everything... I don’t know why he went down this road. But I’m just so sorry I failed him. I don’t know what the police will do... but I hope they stop him before he hurts someone else.
The sad thing is... yesterday, once it was all over and settled, yesterday we had a wonderful day. One of the happiest we have ever had.
Edit: there is a lot to sort through, it’s impossible to reply to everyone so let me hit the big points.

  • all the incels this post attracted can fuck off back to their holes.
  • how do I know the lingo? From my son.
  • “why didn’t I take his computer time away” I specifically said I did. His laptop was forbidden to be used in private, and I banned most of the sites he was using with the parental locks. He bought or stole another laptop behind our backs though and used his phone data. My wife and I don’t use our phone internet much so we didn’t think of it.
  • “it wasn’t Christmas last week” ??? I know? It’s.... November. The young man visited us on Christmas 2017. We had this fight last week. I don’t know how I have to clarify that there was a passage of time between the fight and Christmas, since it’s pretty clearly not Christmas right now, but.... alright.
  • “why wasn’t he in therapy” again this is a common comment from people who must have skimmed because we did put him in therapy. He was abusive towards several therapists, so we gave up on therapy.
  • “why not have him institutionalized” because that is MY SON. to have him locked away is not an easy decision. I love him. We wanted to believe he could still change. But he couldn’t.
  • I have no idea who he moved in with. I don’t care. Maybe an Airbnb?
  • “why didn’t you help him soonewas he bad as a child” as a kid he was introverted but not especially bad. He misbehaved sometimes but it wasn’t troubling. He had a few friends but they all had a falling out the first year of grade school. Prior to harassing that first girl he had some red flags. He seemed depressed, and his hygiene was spiralling. We tried to help him but he was stubborn. He didn’t want help. He wanted to be miserable. I listened to his problems and he complained about how his dream girl went after some other guy and how he stole her from him, and I tried to guide him and help him understand she wasn’t stolen because she isn’t property, she’s a person who made her own choice. He didn’t like that answer.
  • all the things you say we should have tried, we mostly did. We gave him lots of attention and love before all this and after. We still tried to be a family.
  • my daughter and her boyfriend helped me clear his room since I cannot carry certain heavy things myself. My daughter was therefore present when I found her underwear. She singled out a couple of pairs as not hers and was scared of where he got them from. She suggested keeping them for evidence.
  • there was a teacher who did get through to him somewhat, for a time. But he transferred to a different school district.
  • he wasn’t horrible all the time. Sometimes he could be good to be around. He could be really funny and clever. He was really good with animals. He was good with his games too. He got really passionate and excited about them and it made me happy seeing him having fun with a hobby. Seeing him smile could almost make me forget the things he’d done.
  • telling me to kill myself says a lot about yourself.
  • I’ve seen what toxic ideologies do to families. I’m not interested in joining your red pill, Jordan Peterson, or child beating cults.
  • advocating child abuse as a 20-something brat shows your immaturity. Advocating murder does too.
  • toxic masculinity is considering men weak for having the strength to express their emotions.
  • many complaints about “allowing” my daughter to be intimate with her boyfriend all stem from the same racist incel rhetoric my son used. There is literally nothing wrong with interracial couples. I couldn’t be happier that my daughter is with someone who loves and treats her with dignity.
  • incels struggle with reading, evidently. My daughter had her first boyfriend at 15, and I doubt there was anything going on between them. She is currently 18. So yes, she probably has sex. As an adult woman. Not really anyone’s business. My son is 22, soon to be 23.
edit 2
With new replies coming in by the truckload and 3 new pm’s for every one I reply to, I am getting slightly overwhelmed by the response here. I can’t really keep up, even just reading I have begun skipping comments to keep up. I have things to do today but I’ll try to catch up every so often.
edit 3
Mods locked the thread. I am not sure why but there are almost 10,000 replies and maybe 500 pm’s to sort through.
submitted by ChonkyBeagle to copypasta [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 14:13 Rha3gar The Decay of Autumn

My family… at least what remains of my family, has never been the kind to share stories, especially those telling of our history. You could imagine my surprise when I received my notice of inheritance of the Wolff Farm, once belonging to my Uncle Charlie and Aunt Clara.
I blame the long, lonesome nights for my growing curiosity. The curiosity that led me to the discovery of the separate, hidden diaries within the false bottoms of my Aunt and Uncle’s respective nightstands. As I said, my family members seldom share stories, but I now find it imperative to break this trend.
I have pieced together the separate accounts from their diaries and local news articles— and what I have discovered is unlike anything you have ever heard before. I have come to this sole conclusion: there are unexplainable beings in our world — truly sinister and ever-present.
Below is the story I have created through my research.
Charlie wiped his brow as thunder rolled in the distance. A symphony of raindrops fell on the crops and darkness washed over the farm as he pulled his tractor into the barn. Gunner happily wagged his tail and greeted Charlie as he walked inside the dimly lit farmhouse. Drying his head with towel, Charlie called-out to his wife, Clara, inquiring her plans for their supper. His question was met only with silence. Making his way to the base of the stairs, Charlie called out again. Lightning illuminated the interior of the home as his voice echoed through the halls. Charlie stared at the white carpet in horror during the brief moment of flashing blue-light. Dark-red droplets of liquid painted the stairs.
Time stood still as Charlie ran into master bathroom, covering his mouth as he screamed“NO, NO, NO” repeatedly. Clara cowered in the corner— her inner thighs stained crimson. She rocked back-and-forth, holding a blood-stained bundle of towels in her arms.
Charlie crouched down and gazed at what was once destined to be their child.
Anger and hopelessness rushed through his veins as he took the towels from Clara. She pleaded for Charlie to come back to her as he left the bathroom, descending the stairs and making his way outside into the pouring rain—grabbing a shovel from the shed. Gunner kept his distance as he followed his master deep into the woods.
Charlie struck the ground again-and-again as he dug the grave. Lightning danced along the trees as he placed the small, innocent corpse into the earth before filling the cavity with mud— and finally a large, flat stone. Charlie pointed the shovel at the whimpering dog as they retreated out of the woods and back home, promising the canine that if he ever dug up the grave— it would surely be the last thing he’d ever do.
The two years following that night were the darkest Clara and Charlie would ever see. A series of droughts decimated the crops and steered Charlie’s career from farmer to construction worker. When he punched out in the evenings, Charlie found solace in bourbon and Blair— the young, attractive bartender that poured it for him.
Clara’s days were filled with silence and daydreams of what should have been. She couldn’t bring herself to un-furnish the nursery, complete with a rocking chair, crib, changing table and pink-block-letters on the wall. The letters that spelled the name neither Charlier or Clara could bring themselves to say aloud. A-U-T-U-M-N.
The nursery door remained closed. An unspoken, unbroken rule.
Summer came to an end as a chill filled the air. Charlie staggered through the door. Cold, untouched food decorated the kitchen table. The stench of the bar clung to him. Periods of prolonged silence and resentment accompanied this and most dinners. Another month of infertility had came and went, and neither Charlie nor Clara felt the need to discuss it.
As night fell, the couple completed their respective rituals. Charlie retreated to the recliner with a 6-pack, and Clara retired to the master bedroom. She stripped to her underwear and stared at her body in the mirror as she placed her hands over her lower belly and recited a quiet prayer.
As Clara closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, a breeze whistled through the open window— and with it— a sharp noise pierced the silence. A voice whispered “Mama” and Clara’s eyes burst open as she grabbed her stomach and gasped. Charlie snored, face-down next to her on the bed as she got up and closed the window.
The following morning was filled with grey overcast and cold, thin air. Clara lit a cigarette on the front porch as Charlie’s truck disappeared down the gravel drive. His departure and Clara’s anxiety retreated in tandem. Heavy fog danced atop the Wolff pond and rolled along the desolate dirt patch that had once grown a vast sea of crops. Yet another reminder of what should have been.
As Clara put out the cigarette and turned to walk inside, something at the tree-line of the woods caught her eye. Approaching cautiously she discovered Gunner, still and staring at the threshold of the dense foliage. She called to him to no avail. Clara moved closer. Trembling uncontrollably the dog urinated on himself where he stood. She knelt down to console the frightened German Shepherd. He turned and snarled, viscously snapping at her like a feral beast. Clara fell backwards in fear. She called-out again as the dog turned and ran off in the opposite direction, out-of-sight.
That night when Charlie returned home, Clara told him of the dog’s bizarre behavior. He theorized Gunner likely picked-up on a female’s scent and was filled with aggressive hormones. Charlie then broke the news to Clara that he would be leaving for a few days on a new project. She didn’t feel the need to respond.
Before bed, Charlie reminded Clara of two things. The first being her doctor’s appointment scheduled for the morning, and the second was that today was an ovulation day. The smell of stale beer turned Clara’s stomach as the couple struggled through un-passionate sex that evening. What was supposed to be the act of making love had become yet another tedious chore. Clara turned her head and looked down the darkness of the hall, her heart began to race.
The nursery door was ajar… ever so slightly.
Buzzing, fluorescent lights filled the doctor’s office with a low hum and harsh light. An elderly woman in a blue sweater smiled widely at Clara as she sat and read a magazine. When the nurse called Clara back, the old woman grabbed Clara’s wrist and told her “you’re a wonderful mother.” Clara stuttered a confused response and apology as she shuffled past.
The doctor filled Clara’s ears with the same story she heard over-and-over again. That all her levels looked normal, to keep trying, and get plenty of rest. Clara told the doctor of her issues with sleeping and anxiety. As she left the office with a fresh bottle of sleeping pills, she noticed the old woman was nowhere in sight.
The night was quieter with Charlie gone and Gunner still missing. Clara called Charlie’s hotel room, and was met with his annoyed tone. Charlie told her that he was exhausted and would be home in a few days. As she was hanging up, Clara thought she heard the sound of a female voice in the background. Clara convinced herself that Charlie probably had the TV on in the room.
A double dose of sleeping pills kicked-in, and Clara dreamt of the woods.
Running through the trees in the darkness, Clara followed the harsh sound of a baby wailing in pain. The cries rang so loudly, she thought her ears were going to bleed. Clara fell to her knees in a clearing in the woods and listened for the cries. The wailing was muffled now, coming from the soil beneath her. She dug frantically into the earth, scraping and clawing grass and dirt. As she raked her fingers deeper-and-deeper, blood began to pool from within the hole beneath her. The bloody-mud consumed her body as she sunk, and the baby’s cries turned to laughter.
Clara awoke in a cold sweat and hurried downstairs for glass of water and a cigarette. Just as she calmed herself down, Clara nearly retched when she noticed the fresh dirt caked beneath each fingernail.
Sleep-deprived, Clara looked out the window until the orange sunlight of dawn peaked through the blinds. She forced herself to get dressed and slowly made her way to the market. Clara couldn’t help but feel as though she was simply going through the motions of life. After checking out at the register, Clara walked to her car and noticed a familiar face standing in the parking lot. She took a deep breath and approached the old woman from the doctor’s office, still dressed in the same blue sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest. After a deep breath of confidence, Clara approached the woman and introduced herself. She told her they met the other day, and the woman nodded in agreement. Clara asked what she meant when she told her she was a good mother. The old woman spoke softly as she climbed into the driver’s seat. She told Clara that she drives by the Wolff Farm every now and again, and loves seeing her little girl playing in the woods. Before Clara could respond, the old woman waved goodbye and drove off.
That night, Clara flipped on the TV and stared at the black-and-white screen. The noise and light soothed her as her eyes grew heavy once-again, taking another white pill for good measure. The sound TV static woke Clara as the sun disappeared over the horizon, the volume increasing with each passing second. The light strained Clara’s eyes as crawled towards the television set on all fours. Reaching for the dial, the screen changed — taking her off-guard. The static replaced with an image a woman holding a baby in a rocking chair. Clara squinted at the screen as her eyes struggled to make-out the details. She reached for the dial again, turning the TV off. Clara laughed at herself for foolishly being scared. As she got up from the floor, the TV kicked on once again. The woman now hung from a noose above the chair, which continued to rock back-and-forth. Clara gazed in disbelief, frozen in fear. The TV’s sound of the rocking creaked rhythmically against the wood floor. Clara screamed and pulled the plug from the wall. The noise continued as she came to the realization that the sound wasn’t coming from the TV— but from the rocking chair in the nursery upstairs.
Charlie returned home that same evening, changing his shirt in his truck to hide the smell of Blair’s perfume. He entered and was distraught when he found the farmhouse to be empty. He called for Clara, answered only by his echoes.
And for the next few months, Charlie was alone.
Family, friends and neighbors searched the surrounding area to no avail. Clara seemed to have vanished without a trace.
Blair frequented the Wolff home as Charlie had come to the conclusion that Clara would not be returning. Charlie and Blair sat near the fireplace, drinking and talking as they did on most evenings. Tonight was different, however. Charlies vision began to blur. Blair lied face-down on the carpet after just half a drink. Charlie looked to the bourbon in his hand, then to the decanter. The flames of the fire danced as he swirled the amber liquid, a white foam clung to the sides of the glass. Charlie stumbled to the bathroom, attempting to purge himself. Just before losing consciousness, he caught a glimpse of Clara’s empty sleeping pill bottle in the waste bin.
The blistering Winter wind woke Charlie from his daze. The ropes that bound him to the large oak tree dug into his shoulders. He tired to call out, but only small whimper escaped his lungs. As Clara approached him from within the woods, Charlie could hardly recognize her. Her disheveled clothes hung loosely from her gaunt frame. Clara stood before Charlie, and he was speechless. She told him of how she would leave him here to freeze to death— forgotten in the woods like their daughter. She cursed his name for taking their baby and burying her in the woods.
Charlie pleaded with his delusional wife, begging her to remember the truth of that night. Tears streamed from his eyes as he recounted the memory of of their stillborn child, the baby who was never given the chance to take her first breath. Clara only stared at him. The morbid realization that there was no getting through to Clara creeped-in. Charlie sunk his head as he quietly sawed at the ropes with the knife in his back pocket. Clara walked closer and called him a liar as she stroked his cheek.
"Autumn is ready for you.”
Charlie hadn’t heard the name spoken aloud in years. The ropes held by just a few threads against his blade. Clara knelt down near the large foxhole at the base of a large oak, and Charlie eyed her curiously. Clara whispered into the hole for a few moments before stepping away.
Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest as the creature emerged from the hole.
His eyes and brain battled with one another as he tried to comprehend the distorted flesh, hair, and bone that stood on two legs as if crudely impersonating a human being. Clara beamed with admiration, her vision and memories poisoned by the creature which guised itself as a beautiful child in her eyes.
The ropes snapped with a final slash of Charlie’s knife, and he fell before the creature— its decrepit finger scratching Charlie’s leg as he ran towards the tree-line.
The house came into view, and Charlie saw a glimmer of hope. His leg throbbed with pain, yellow pus oozed from the wound the creature left. He fell to the ground as new memories rushed through his mind, memories of raising a beautiful, healthy daughter. Charlie writhed as he fought the faux recollections, grasping to hold onto the truth.
Clara and the creature stood before him once more. Charlie turned towards them, and Clara smiled. Telling him of how he would truly see Autumn, his daughter, for the first time. The creature’s transformation displayed before him, tricking his mind into seeing the child that never was.
Enraged, Charlie scooped the creature up in his arms and ran. Clara followed slowly behind. The creature whispered into his ear as he stumbled towards the frozen pond. It told him that all would be over soon, how it would feed on them both— body, mind and soul just as it had fed on countless others for centuries.
Charlie walked with the creature onto the thin ice, he turned and smiled at his wife one final time as a tear streamed down his face. In his arms he held the child, the one Clara promised he would see. In a final moment of clarity, Charlie saw the lie before him and jumped. His boots shattered the ice as he held the creature close — both descending into the darkness.
And as the frigid waters took the life from Charlie and the creature, Clara’s mind unclouded— free from pain, and ready to start anew.
submitted by Rha3gar to Rha3gar [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 12:51 Rha3gar The Decay of Autumn

My family… at least what remains of my family, has never been the kind to share stories, especially those telling of our history. You could imagine my surprise when I received my notice of inheritance of the Wolff Farm, once belonging to my Uncle Charlie and Aunt Clara.
I blame the long, lonesome nights for my growing curiosity. The curiosity that led me to the discovery of the separate, hidden diaries within the false bottoms of my Aunt and Uncle’s respective nightstands. As I said, my family members seldom share stories, but I now find it imperative to break this trend.
I have pieced together the separate accounts from their diaries and local news articles— and what I have discovered is unlike anything you have ever heard before. I have come to this sole conclusion: there are unexplainable beings in our world — truly sinister and ever-present.
Below is the story I have created through my research.
Charlie wiped his brow as thunder rolled in the distance. A symphony of raindrops fell on the crops and darkness washed over the farm as he pulled his tractor into the barn. Gunner happily wagged his tail and greeted Charlie as he walked inside the dimly lit farmhouse. Drying his head with towel, Charlie called-out to his wife, Clara, inquiring her plans for their supper. His question was met only with silence. Making his way to the base of the stairs, Charlie called out again. Lightning illuminated the interior of the home as his voice echoed through the halls. Charlie stared at the white carpet in horror during the brief moment of flashing blue-light. Dark-red droplets of liquid painted the stairs.
Time stood still as Charlie ran into master bathroom, covering his mouth as he screamed“NO, NO, NO” repeatedly. Clara cowered in the corner— her inner thighs stained crimson. She rocked back-and-forth, holding a blood-stained bundle of towels in her arms.
Charlie crouched down and gazed at what was once destined to be their child.
Anger and hopelessness rushed through his veins as he took the towels from Clara. She pleaded for Charlie to come back to her as he left the bathroom, descending the stairs and making his way outside into the pouring rain—grabbing a shovel from the shed. Gunner kept his distance as he followed his master deep into the woods.
Charlie struck the ground again-and-again as he dug the grave. Lightning danced along the trees as he placed the small, innocent corpse into the earth before filling the cavity with mud— and finally a large, flat stone. Charlie pointed the shovel at the whimpering dog as they retreated out of the woods and back home, promising the canine that if he ever dug up the grave— it would surely be the last thing he’d ever do.
The two years following that night were the darkest Clara and Charlie would ever see. A series of droughts decimated the crops and steered Charlie’s career from farmer to construction worker. When he punched out in the evenings, Charlie found solace in bourbon and Blair— the young, attractive bartender that poured it for him.
Clara’s days were filled with silence and daydreams of what should have been. She couldn’t bring herself to un-furnish the nursery, complete with a rocking chair, crib, changing table and pink-block-letters on the wall. The letters that spelled the name neither Charlier or Clara could bring themselves to say aloud. A-U-T-U-M-N.
The nursery door remained closed. An unspoken, unbroken rule.
Summer came to an end as a chill filled the air. Charlie staggered through the door. Cold, untouched food rested upon the kitchen table. The stench of the bar clung to him. Periods of prolonged silence and resentment accompanied this and most dinners. Another month of infertility had came and went, and neither Charlie nor Clara felt the need to discuss it.
As night fell, the couple completed their respective rituals. Charlie retreated to the recliner with a 6-pack, and Clara retired to the master bedroom. She stripped to her underwear and stared at her body in the mirror as she placed her hands over her lower belly and recited a quiet prayer.
As Clara closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, a breeze whistled through the open window— and with it— a sharp noise pierced the silence. A voice whispered “Mama” and Clara’s eyes burst open as she grabbed her stomach and gasped. Charlie snored, face-down next to her on the bed as she got up and closed the window.
The following morning was filled with grey overcast and cold, thin air. Clara lit a cigarette on the front porch as Charlie’s truck disappeared down the gravel drive. His departure and Clara’s anxiety retreated in tandem. Heavy fog danced atop the Wolff pond and rolled along the desolate dirt patch that had once grown a vast sea of crops. Yet another reminder of what should have been.
As Clara put out the cigarette and turned to walk inside, something along the tree-line of the woods caught her eye. Approaching cautiously she discovered Gunner, still and staring at the threshold of the dense foliage. She called to him to no avail. Clara moved closer. Trembling uncontrollably, the dog urinated on himself where he stood. She knelt down to console the frightened German Shepherd. He turned and snarled, viscously snapping at her like a feral beast. Clara fell backwards in fear. She called-out again as the dog turned and ran off in the opposite direction, out-of-sight.
That night when Charlie returned home, Clara told him of the dog’s bizarre behavior. He theorized Gunner likely picked-up on a female’s scent and was filled with aggressive hormones. Charlie then broke the news to Clara that he would be leaving for a few days on a new project. She didn’t feel the need to respond.
Before bed, Charlie reminded Clara of two things. The first being her doctor’s appointment scheduled for the morning, and the second was that today was an ovulation day. The smell of stale beer turned Clara’s stomach as the couple struggled through un-passionate sex that evening. What was supposed to be the act of making love had become yet another tedious chore. Clara turned her head and looked down the darkness of the hall, her heart began to race.
The nursery door was ajar… ever so slightly.
Buzzing, fluorescent lights filled the doctor’s office with a low hum and harsh light. An elderly woman in a blue sweater smiled widely at Clara as she sat and read a magazine. When the nurse called Clara back, the old woman grabbed Clara’s wrist and told her “you’re a wonderful mother.” Clara stuttered a confused response and apology as she shuffled past.
The doctor filled Clara’s ears with the same story she heard over-and-over again. That all her levels looked normal, to keep trying, and get plenty of rest. Clara told the doctor of her issues with sleeping and anxiety. As she left the office with a fresh bottle of sleeping pills, she noticed the old woman was nowhere in sight.
The night was quieter with Charlie gone and Gunner still missing. Clara called Charlie’s hotel room, and was met with his annoyed tone. Charlie told her that he was exhausted and would be home in a few days. As she was hanging up, Clara thought she heard the sound of a female voice in the background. Clara convinced herself that Charlie probably had the TV on in the room.
A double dose of sleeping pills kicked-in, and Clara dreamt of the woods.
Running through the trees in the darkness, Clara followed the harsh sound of a baby wailing in pain. The cries rang so loudly, she thought her ears were going to bleed. Clara fell to her knees in a clearing in the woods and listened for the cries. The wailing was muffled now, coming from the soil beneath her. She dug frantically into the earth, scraping and clawing grass and dirt. As she raked her fingers deeper-and-deeper, blood began to pool from within the hole beneath her. The bloody-mud consumed her body as she sunk, and the baby’s cries turned to laughter.
Clara awoke in a cold sweat and hurried downstairs for glass of water and a cigarette. Just as she calmed herself down, Clara nearly retched when she noticed the fresh dirt caked beneath each fingernail.
Sleep-deprived, Clara looked out the window until the orange sunlight of dawn peaked through the blinds. She forced herself to get dressed and slowly made her way to the market. Clara couldn’t help but feel as though she was simply going through the motions of life. After checking out at the register, Clara walked to her car and noticed a familiar face standing in the parking lot. She took a deep breath and approached the old woman from the doctor’s office, still dressed in the same blue sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest. After a deep breath of confidence, Clara approached the woman and introduced herself. She told her they met the other day, and the woman nodded in agreement. Clara asked what she meant when she told her she was a good mother. The old woman spoke softly as she climbed into the driver’s seat. She told Clara that she drives by the Wolff Farm every now and again, and loves seeing her little girl playing in the woods. Before Clara could respond, the old woman waved goodbye and drove off.
That night, Clara flipped on the TV and stared at the black-and-white screen. The noise and light soothed her as her eyes grew heavy once-again, taking another white pill for good measure. The sound of the TV static woke Clara as the sun disappeared over the horizon, the volume increasing with each passing second. The light strained Clara’s eyes as crawled towards the television set on all fours. Reaching for the dial, the screen changed — taking her off-guard. The static replaced with an image a woman holding a baby in a rocking chair. Clara squinted at the screen as her eyes struggled to make-out the details. She reached for the dial again, turning the TV off. Clara laughed at herself for foolishly being scared. As she got up from the floor, the TV kicked on once again. The woman now hung from a noose above the chair, which continued to rock back-and-forth. Clara gazed in disbelief, frozen in fear. The TV’s sound of the rocking creaked rhythmically against the wood floor. Clara screamed and pulled the plug from the wall. The noise continued as she came to the realization that the sound wasn’t coming from the TV— but from the rocking chair in the nursery upstairs.
Charlie returned home that same evening, changing his shirt in his truck to hide the smell of Blair’s perfume. He entered and was distraught when he found the farmhouse to be empty. He called for Clara, answered only by his echoes.
And for the next few months, Charlie was alone.
Family, friends and neighbors searched the surrounding area to no avail. Clara had simply vanished without a trace.
Blair frequented the Wolff home as Charlie had come to the conclusion that Clara would not be returning. Charlie and Blair sat near the fireplace, drinking and talking as they did on most evenings. Tonight was different, however. Charlies vision began to blur. Blair lied face-down on the carpet after just half a drink. Charlie looked to the bourbon in his hand, then to the decanter. The flames of the fire danced as he swirled the amber liquid, white foam clung to the sides of the glass. Charlie stumbled to the bathroom, attempting to purge himself. Just before losing consciousness, he caught a glimpse of Clara’s empty sleeping pill bottle in the waste bin.
The blistering Winter wind woke Charlie from his daze. The ropes that bound him to the large oak tree dug into his shoulders. He tired to call out, but only small whimper escaped his lungs. As Clara approached him from within the woods, Charlie could hardly recognize her. Her disheveled clothes hung loosely from her gaunt frame. Clara stood before Charlie, and he was speechless. She told him of how she would leave him here to freeze to death— forgotten in the woods like their daughter. She cursed his name for taking their baby and burying her in the woods.
Charlie pleaded with his delusional wife, begging her to remember the truth of that night. Tears streamed from his eyes as he recounted the memory of of their stillborn child, the baby who was never given the chance to take her first breath. Clara only stared at him. The morbid realization that there was no getting through to Clara creeped-in. Charlie sunk his head as he quietly sawed at the ropes with the knife in his back pocket. Clara walked closer and called him a liar as she stroked his cheek.
"Autumn is ready for you.”
Charlie hadn’t heard the name spoken aloud in years. The ropes held by just a few threads against his blade. Clara knelt down near the foxhole at the base of a large oak, and Charlie eyed her curiously. Clara whispered into the hole for a few moments before stepping away.
Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest as the creature emerged from the hole.
His eyes and brain battled with one another as he tried to comprehend the distorted flesh, hair, and bone that stood before them on two legs— as if crudely impersonating a human being. Clara beamed with admiration, her vision and memories poisoned by the creature which guised itself as a beautiful child in her eyes.
The ropes snapped with a final slash of Charlie’s knife, and he fell before the creature— its decrepit finger scratching Charlie’s leg as he ran towards the tree-line.
The house came into view, and Charlie saw a glimmer of hope. His leg throbbed with pain, yellow pus oozed from the wound the creature left. He fell to the ground as new memories rushed through his mind, memories of raising a beautiful, healthy daughter. Charlie writhed as he fought the faux recollections, grasping to hold onto the truth.
Clara and the creature stood before him once more. Charlie turned towards them, and Clara smiled. Telling him of how he would truly see Autumn, his daughter, for the first time. The creature’s transformation displayed before him, tricking his mind into seeing the child that never was.
Enraged, Charlie scooped the creature up in his arms and ran. Clara followed slowly behind. The creature whispered into his ear as he stumbled towards the frozen pond. It told him that all would be over soon, how it would feed on them both— body, mind and soul— just as it had fed on countless others for centuries.
Charlie walked with the creature onto the thin ice, he turned and smiled at his wife one final time as a tear streamed down his face. In his arms he held the child, the one Clara promised he would see. In a final moment of clarity, Charlie saw the lie before him and jumped. His boots shattered the ice as he held the creature close — both descending into the darkness.
And as the frigid waters took the life from Charlie and the creature, Clara’s mind unclouded— free from pain, and ready to start anew.
submitted by Rha3gar to nosleep [link] [comments]


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Lego Aquaman Rage of Atlantis HDX $5
Lego Batman movie HDX $5
Life 2017 HDX $5
The Legend of Tarzan HDX $5
Logan HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $5
Logan Lucky HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
Money Ball HDX $5
Maze Runner Death Cure HDX $5
Monster High Electrified HDX vudu/iTunes $2
Monster High Great Scarrier Reef HDX vudu/iTunes $2
Madagascar 3 Europe's Most Wanted HDX $4
Money Monster HDX $5
Magic Mike HDX $4
MindGamers HDX iTunes/MA $3
Mob Town HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Maps To The Stars HDX iTunes/MA $3
Men In Black 3 HDX $5
The Maze Runner HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $5
My Dinner With Herve HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Mile 22 HDX iTunes only $4
Money HDX $5
Mission Impossible Fall out HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
The Mummy 2017 HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
Morgan HDX $4
Max 2 White House Hero HDX $4
MAMMA MIA! Here We go Again HDX $4
Monster Trucks HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Miss Peregrines home for Peculiar Children HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $5
Murder on the Orient Express HDX $5
Mother! HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
The Magnificent Seven 2017 HDX $5
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The Mountain Between us HDX vudu/itunes 4k $4
The Magnificent Seven 4 Film Collection HDX vudu $6
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles out of the Shadows $3 iTunes 4k
Norm of the North HDX $4
Neighbors HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Noah HDX vudu/iTunes $3
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No Bodys Fool HD iTunes $3
Night Hunter HDX iTunes $4
New Years Eve HDX $3
Night School Extend HDX $5
NOAH HDX vudu $3
The Nut Job HDX iTunes/MA $3
Nocturnal Animals HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Non - Stop HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Night At The Museum Secret of the Tomb HDX $3
The Old Man and the Gun HDX $5
Old School HDX $5
Our Brand is Crisis HDX $4
Oblivion HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Only The Brave HDX $5
Overlord vudu HDX $4
The Oranges HDX $3
Operation Finale iTunes only $4
OverDrive HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Ouija Origin of Evil HDX iTunes/MA $3
Office Christmas Party HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
Penguins of Madagascar HDX $4
Playing With Fire HDX vudu $4
Pixels HDX $5
The Purge HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $4
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Pacific Rim HDX $5
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The Possession HDX Vudu $4
Parental Guidance HDX $3
Paranormal Activity The Ghost Dimension Unrated HDX iTunes $3
Paranormal Activity 3 HDX vudu/iTunes $3
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Paper Towns HDX $3
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Rogue Warfare HDX vudu/iTunes $4
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Ricki and the Flash HDX $5
Ramona and Beezus HDX $4
Rings HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Riot Caged To Kill iTunes Ports $3
Run All Night HDX $3
Rampage HD $5
Rough Night HDX $5
Ready Player One HDX $5
Rules don't Apply HDX $4
Seeking a Friend For The End of The World HDX iTunes $3
Sharp Objects HDX vudu $4
Search Party HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Still Alice HDX $3
Savages HDX iTunes/MA $3
Suffragette HDX iTunes/MA $3
Snitch HDX vudu $3
Secert In Their Eyes HDX iTunes/MA $3
SGT. Stubby An American Hero HDX iTunes $3
The Secret Life of Pets HDX iTunes/MA 4k $4
Scooby Doo Big Top Original Movie HDX $4
Snow White and the Huntsman Winter War Extended HDX vudu or iTunes 4k $3
Seal Team 8 Behind Enemy Lines HD $2
Serenity 2019 HDX $5
Santa little Helper HD $3
Same Kind of Difference $3 iTunes
Sleepless HD $2 vudu/iTunes
Show Dogs HD $4
Skyscraper HD $5
Sherlock Gnomes HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
Split HDX vudu/iTunes 4K $3
SpiderMan Home Coming HDX $5
Star Trek Beyond HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
Sully HDX $5
The Strangers Prey at Night HDX $5
The SnowMan HDX $4
Scorpion King Book of Souls HDX $4
Snatched HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $4
Second Act HDX iTunes $4
Strawberry ShortCake Dance Berry Dance HDX $4
Taken 3 Unrated HDX $4
Tammy HDX $4
Team Hot Wheels The Origin of Awesome! HDX iTunes $3
Term Life HDX iTunes/ma $3
Trash HDX iTunes/MA $3
Transcendence HDX $3
Table 19 HDX $5
Tremors 5 Bloodlines HDX iTunes/MA $3
Transformers Age of Extinction iTunes 4k $3
Transformers The Last Knight HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $3
Thank you for your Service HDX $5
Three Billboards HDX $5
Trolls HDX $5
The Upside HDX iTunes $4
Unsane HDX $5
Unbroken HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Underworld Blood Wars HDX $5
Unforgettable HDX $4
Unfinished Business HDX $5
Veronica Mars HDX $3
WatchMen HDX $5
What Men Want HDX vudu/iTunes $3
Wild Card HDX $4
Wonder Park HDX vudu/iTunes $4
The Water Diviner HDX $3
War Room HDX $4
Won't Back Down HDX $5
Widows HDX $4
Walking With The Enemy HDX $4
Wilson HDX $5
War for the Planet of Apes HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $4
Wonder Woman HDX $5
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Wizard of Lies HDX iTunes $3
X-Men Days of Future Past HDX vudu/iTunes 4k $5
xXx Return of Xander Cage HDX $3 vudu/iTunes 4K
The Young Messiah HDX $2 vudu/iTunes
Zoolander 2 HDX iTunes $3
Sony Movie Buff Pass Chose 1 of the Flowing Works on Movies any Where HDX $5 the 6th day
anger management
all the money in the world
angry birds 2
alpha
Bright Burn
escape room
Hotel transylvanian 3
Men in Black 4
The Night Before
Spiderman Far From Home
Slenderman
Surf's Up
The Star
white boy rick
Disney Splits MA With Points/ Google Play No Points
Avengers End Game HDX MA with Points $4 HDX GP $3 HDX
Avengers Infinity War HDX MA With Points $4 HDX
Bueaty and the Beast live Action HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX
Cars 3 HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX
Coco HDX MA With Points $4 HDX
Doctor Strange HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX
Finding Dory HDX MA With Points HD $4 HDX
Fox And The Hound 2 HDX MA $4 HDX
Guardians of the Galaxy vol 2 HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX Incredibles 2 GP $4 HDX
Moana HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX
Olaf's Frozen Adventure HDX MA $4 HDX
POTC Dead men tell no tales HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX
Star Wars Rise of Skywalker HDX MA $4 HDX GP $3 HDX
Star Wars Force Awakens HDX MA with points $4 HDX GP no Points $3 HDX
Starwars the Last Jedi HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX
Starwars Rouge One HDX MA With Points HDX $4 GP No Points $3 HDX
Thor Ragnarok HDX MA With Points $4 HDX GP No Points $3 HDX
Season's
Ballers s3 HDX $3 iTunes
Divorce s1 vudu HDX $4
Paterno vudu HDX $4
The Young Pope s1 HDX $3 iTunes
_Disney Points No Movies Just Points 50 Cents Each _
avangers end game dvd 100 points
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