Mom dance naked

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2020.10.22 09:31 cleanyourbedroomboy Mom dance naked

“Once upon a time, in a cold, dark land, there was a king who lived on tall mountains of ice. A king without a castle, who sat on a throne of blood and skin; from the top of his mountain, he watched over his kingdom of skeletons; roaring loudly for his subject skeletons on the arrival of winter, cautioning them of the impending icy winds.”
“The skeleton kingdom was home to all kinds of skeletons. Tall skeletons, short skeletons, fat skeletons and thin skeletons, old skeletons and younger, fresher skeletons.”
“When they were old enough, a skeleton started to grow skin, or had blood flowing through its body. Every time that happened, they would go to the king, and bow in front of him”
““My lord of flesh and blood” A skeleton would say, “Here I give to you a humble offering, so you may make it one with your throne.” And with that, the skeleton would offer the king all the flesh and blood it had, and the king would find a place of it on his throne.”
“Every day, offers were made, and the throne grew bigger and bigger, taller and taller, fatter and fatter, and the king went up higher and higher.”
“More and more skeletons would come in every day and every night, and they would keep giving more and more flesh and blood to the king’s chair.”
“The king’s throne eventually grew so tall; his voice became faint, and soft to the ones who stood below. But the skeletons did not stop; like obedient subjects, they making their humble contributions to the throne.”
“Every day they added.”
“And every night they added.”
““My lord I come to offer you more of my own flesh and blood, and I hope my humble gives more strength to your throne.”, and in reply, they heard just a distant mumble from high up.”
“The throne eventually went so up high, the throne became a living tower, covered in flesh, with veins of blood flowing through it. If you were still enough, a faint heartbeat could be heard from within the tower.”
“The tower went so high up, the skeletons believed that it might have pierced through the skies.”
“One day, a skeleton bowed in front of the tower. Fresh blood dripping from his bony white hands, and a handful of extracted flesh tied neatly with ropes on his back. After his words of offering, he stood up, waiting for the king’s reply. And he waited, and waited. Not a sound. He said his words a second time. He was yet again, met with silence.”
“And then he looked up, to the vast throne he and his fellow skeletons had built, and on top of it…he froze. He could not locate the top.”
“He felt like a sailor on a boat, trapped in the still, windless of the ocean of time. A few moments felt like ages in this uncertain stillness he found himself in. And then, like a gentle breeze of hopeful wind, his skull was kissed by the dropping snow.”
“He waited for the king’s roar, knowing full well that it may never come. The king was lost in the skies.”
“The skeletons rejoiced that day. They had finally gotten themselves rid of the fleshed king that ruled over this land of bones. They had found freedom,”
“The skeletons sang all day. And they sang all night. They danced till their bones came apart, and fell on the icy terrain below; but they put it back together and danced some more.”
“They sang wildly while the moon watched silently. They continued their songs even when the moon had hidden under the blankets of a sunless winter day.”
“And as time went on, the skeletons had found themselves used to this life without a leader, and lived life free and happy.”
“Eventually, their skins began to grow back, and blood began to flow into their veins.”
“The snowfall never stopped. And the winds grew ever colder. And with the growth of their skins, the cold finally touched them. But the cold was not so gentle. It was a fierce, with icy teeth, aimed on their skins. Wanting to bite through their skins, and freeze their blood. And bite it did.”
“The skeletons had never felt the cold before. They had no understanding of it. But with the growth of their skins, they felt the harsh cold for the first time. And with this new agony, they had to live.”
“The old ones died first. And then the youngest ones found themselves frozen in the cold.”
“The skeletons fought against each other, accusing each other of being at fault for this unescapable cold of the harsh winter. And with that, eventually the skeleton kingdom found itself buried in the snow.”
“The few that lived now, found themselves slaves to the ice. By this time, they could not find a way to rid themselves of their skins either. The flesh had found roots in their bones now, and were an eternal part of them.”
“Every summer they lived in peace, but that was only before. Now, with summers, they found themselves preparing themselves for the winter, and with the winters, they prayed for the summer’s return.”
“They had tried to get their king back, readying themselves for heavy and heartfelt words of apologies, and for the punishment that might follow. Yet, the living tower had been darkened and withered by the icy winds of winter, and they king lay trapped on this tower of rot.”
“And so, with heavy hearts, the skeletons finally accepted their fate of agony and hardship, and are now subjects of the winter.”
My mother stood up straight, looking down on me as she smiled warmly, thinking I had fallen into a deep slumber, as she cautiously paced in a gentle manner to the door, and gently shut it, leaving only a tiny sliver of light seeping into my room.
Sleep hadn’t taken me yet, and I opened my eyes, to the dark room. The tiny amount of light that the door allowed in formed a line on the font wall of the room, vertically reaching from the top of the window to the floor.
I had made sure the windows had been kept covered by the blinders as tight as possible, so that I couldn’t accidentally find myself looking out of it. Or anything accidentally looking in.
I shivered at the thought.
When I was seven years old, my mother had been in the hospital, giving birth to my sister, and I had been staying with my aunt Greta at the time. I had been watching T.V. late at night; Aunt Greta didn’t care much about me going to sleep at the time my parents had set for me. But she herself, exhausted, and possibly maybe even slightly drunk, had found rest on the couch, sitting next to me, while the television flickered with various colours, illuminating her skin, edging towards the moment a light bright enough would jerk her out of her sleep. Aunt Greta won that battle, and managed to keep her sleep. But not me, I was on the loosing side, and sleep had finally begun to tug at me.
I tried distracting myself my shaking my head, and then looking around the room. That’s when I made the grave mistake of looking at the front window next to the staircase in the living room.
Two eyes stared back at me, shining white with a touch of red in them. A demonic horned outline stood out, sinisterly grabbing hold of my gaze with the hellish stare it had locked me into.
I don’t remember the exact moment I let go, but my aunt was there to comfort me, calming me down, and the thing outside the window just stood still, flinching a little.
“It’s just a cat!” Aunt Greta said comfortingly, yet slightly irritated; shooing the horrid thing away by tapping the window lightly. It pounced through the window and out of my sight.
Innocent as that encounter had been all those years ago, it had instilled in me a heavy fear of cats and looking through windows in the dark of the night.
Yet tonight, I felt a different kind of heaviness. One that came with feelings of gloom and sadness. The story my mom told me about the skeletons was not a stranger to me. Yet, it was one story I could not find myself to bear. I felt like an idiot, asking to hear that story again. My mom had told it to me a few months back, and I felt the same melancholia back then. I felt that I had grown stronger within to be able to bare that dark tale again, yet, I had only found myself feeling bad about the skeletons. Even a tiny bit of guilt for keeping their suffering alive by asking that tale to be spoken again.
I had pretended to fall asleep in hopes of my mother leaving the story undone, and walking out alone, leaving me to face only my silly fear of the dark, and not this heavy air of sadness that had been left behind.
What was the point of that story? I asked myself. There was no moral attached, not a wholesome outcome. It was a story that tied an iron chain around my tiny eleven-year-old heart, and tossed it on the bottom of a river. I still feel the same way after all these years anyway.
And the way she would tell it, it made the whole experience even more depressing. So vivid, and indifferent her narration was, it was unsettling.
But thankfully, that night was not a snowy night. It was not even winter yet. The night was a rainy one.
There was no storm, not like I would have minded that anyway, but it was a calm, gentle rain with distant soothing rumble of thunder.
I closed my eyes to sleep through the gloom I felt, but the moment I did, images of skeletons building a tower of extracted skin and blood, and dancing to the moonlight filled the darkness.
I tried to think of other things, but the skeletons had already wrapped their body fingers all around my imagination.
I didn’t want to open my eyes and look around (and seeing risk the blinders on the window somehow opened), so I buried myself in the covers, and shut my eyes. My main concern was to just get to fall asleep somehow.
Slowly, I opened my eyes,
Just a tiny peek. Just a tiny peak and nothing would go wrong.
I looked out the covers, and scanned the room. The tiny line of light was gone. My mom had probably already gone to sleep.
My eyes then moved a slightly left, to the drawer, the pile of unread books on top of it, and then…. the window.
Nope!
I got of the covers, and ran to the door, all the while imagining eyes of that horrid thing in the window, I saw all those years ago following me.
I shut the door behind me, and decided to sneak to my parents’ room. I knew I wasn’t supposed to sneak out this way, my mom had a strict bedroom curfew at 9:00 p.m. for us kids. Of course, she would send us to bed earlier, but it was pretty clear she did not want us out of our rooms after nine.
But tonight, she had told me that story again, and hearing that led to a series of events that had led me to loose all of my bravery.
The rain did provide some comfort to me, calming and soft it was, I still dared not look at any windows of the hall.
Shielding half my field of vision by cupping my palm around my right eye, I went across the hall. The faint creaks of the wooden flooring making me painfully aware of my loneliness in the now dark hallway.
There was a corner up front, the left of which were some stairs leading down to the living room, and right of the corner, in a distance worth just a tiny few step was a turn, which led to the door to my parents’ bedroom, and the bathroom.
Now here, I stood still for a moment. I was trying to peak into the corner, and at the same time, trying to focus elsewhere.
If I wasn’t fast enough, something would come out of that corner, and grab me. There was so much darkness in that corner, it almost looked like a dark cloaked man sat there, concealing himself into that place with slow and even breaths.
The dark cloaked man breathed the light in and exhaled the dark. He was darkness itself. If I wasn’t quick enough, he would grab me with those long tendrils of his, and swallow me whole.
A rumble of thunder came, but not before a flash of lightning, lifting the veil of the dark from that corner, revealing… absolutely nothing. No cloaked men, no skeletons. But as soon as the light went away, I saw something there.
It was just for a tiny moment, but I swear I saw a big crawling mass of darkness. It was alive, and moving, with a thousand, or millions of appendeges, tendrils or even legs. Like a spider, or a squid, or some grotesque insect from the deep.
And when the thunder followed this time, it didn’t feel like the soothing, calming touch of my mother’s hands either; rather, it felt like a witch’s cackle, loud and hideous! Piercing through my soul and getting ever closer. A cackle from the depths of a throat with crawling maggots and rotting skin.
I bolted as fast as I can, almost tripping on my own feet, and somehow, I reached the room, and burst right through it. It was unlocked, and there I looked around in the dark, scanning frantically for my mother’s presence.
And there, standing in the dark, in front of the mirror stood someone. Hoping it was my mom, I tried to make out its features, but my heart was also infested with fear and I felt it clawing at my chest, pleading to be let out.
It was as tall as my mother, and was built like a woman. Yet…it was, naked. I could make the outline of bare, sagging breasts. Lighting struck again, this time bringing light to the entire room, and the thunder screamed a blood curdling scream as I saw the figure for what it was. The wrinkled, leathery and aged skin, along with a barren scalp. It’s lip, twisted and the jaws shut so closely, indicating a lack of teeth.
The naked old woman opened her mouth to say a few words, but I felt the world go dim around me, with a bright flash of light, before I was plunged into complete darkness.
Danny? Dan? Yeah…he’s opening his eyes…
The sound of my dad’s voice was the rope I pulled on to come out of my darkness, and I woke up with a jump.
My mother came up to the bed and wrapped her arms around me.
“I was so worried about you!” She said. “How are you feeling baby?”
Her arms around mine, I checked her for wrinkles, and suddenly feeling a bit stupid I turned a bit red.
My dad let out a laugh and punched me in the arm softly, and stood up, rubbing his bald head.
“I told you he’s a strong one. Aren’t you?”
I gave a hesitant nod.
My mother put her hands on my shoulders, sat back and looked me in the eye.
“Now, tell me what happened child. And tell me everything. It’s alright baby, mommy and daddy are here.”
I misliked the way she seemed to baby me, but I did not think to complain.
I looked at the window, the sun was rising up, and the sky seemed clear.
“Well I-“
I remembered what I saw the night before. The crawling mass of darkness, and the naked old lady.
It’s silly now that I think of it, but at that time, I was too embarrassed to tell my
parents that I saw a naked old woman, “NAKED” old woman in our house.
“I just had a bad dream… and I got scared.”
My mom stood up. Telling me words of comfort that were meaningless to me, and walked out, holding my sister’s hand and walking out the room downstairs.
“Dad.” I told my dad as he came down to sit next to me. “I think I want to sleep a bit.”
My dad nodded, “Do you want mom?” He asked me.
I refused and shut my eyes. I was too sleepy to care or think much.
I brushed the old lady off as a bad dream, and nothing more…during the day. At night, as much as I didn’t want to, I believed with all certainty that it was real. Our house was haunted by an old lady’s ghost. I had been sleepless the first few nights, even though I had mom next to me for three days. I kept a lookout at times, peeking out the sheets to see if the old lady had come back (making sure the blinds were shut first), but I didn’t see her.
A few weeks passed and I figured it was just a bad dream, and a year or two later, I pushed it in the rear end of my mind.
It was winter, and the first batch of snow had made its way to my hometown. Flecks of snow buried themselves in my hair, and their cousins and made their place on the ground, forming a white path home.
My sister and I usually walked home from school together. I usually was on my own while my sister talked to one of her friends, I didn’t really know any of them. She and I had never been close, and during school, we drifted apart even more.
She was in middle school, and she already knew what an enormous looser I was. I used to sneak out the school from the back, as to avoid Zackary Levitt and his “Henchmen”.
They never put a hand on me; and that’s how they got away with it. I felt ashamed, unable to stand up to them. Their words bit into me like rows of sharpened teeth.
The trouble began when a white cat had found itself in front of the school, and it got too close to me, and I cried because it kept hissing at me. A lot of people happened to see that. A lot.
Zachary rode past us in one of his friend’s car. I averted my eyes so as to not attract any attention, but the more I tried to look away, the surer my chances of being harassed were.
One of them poked their head out the window, making hissing sounds. That wasn’t so bad, but then I saw my sister and her friend turn back to look at me, and they chuckled a bit.
That hurt me even worse.
That encouraged them even more. They slowed the car a bit, now all of them started meowing and hissing at me while my sister and her friend looked straight ahead, probably trying to conceal their broad grins.
In my mind, I hid in a shell like a turtle, only hearing faint echoes of their taunts. Every time I got mad enough and yelled a few colourful words of my own, they pulled their fists, ready for a fight, and the scrawny, skinny kid I was, I thought it wiser to back away.
I never cried myself to sleep. I didn’t even think about it all that much to be honest. It had become such a normal occurrence; I didn’t feel much about it.
At nights, I stayed awake, staring up to the ceiling. The only source of light in the room was the tiny sliver that creeped in from outside, as my mom stayed up much later.
The blinds as usual, had to remain shut. My fear of cats and windows were the only two things I carried, other than my shame and constant feeling of emptiness. I didn’t care I didn’t have many friends, nor did I care much about school or anything… what I cared about was, seeing through this gloomy fog that surrounded me.
Knock
The sound of my door creaking open made me sit up.
“Happy birthday to you!” My mom sang, holding up a metal tray.
My sister and my dad followed behind, turning the lights on and mom sat in front of me on the bed, placing a tiny chocolate cupcake with a skinny red candle on it, right next to me.
I looked at the clock, it had struck 12.
I put on a smile, and accepted mom’s embrace. I still remember it vividly. She wore no perfume, yet she had a soothing motherly scent to her. Her arms were skinny, and yet she had a firm hold of me. The fabric of her sleeves felt slightly rough on my neck but I didn’t care.
She planted a kiss on my cheek.
“You’re a man now son!” My dad said. He still wore his uniform. He probably got the cake while patrolling, and he would probably have to go back to patrolling after this.
“Eighteen years!” Mom said smiling, “I can’t believe I’m that old now!” She laughed a bit, “Ellen, wish your brother!”
Ellen came to me, giving a forced, loose hug and wishing me awkwardly and moving next to mom.
“You know the rules…. You get the big cake tomorrow… and the gifts too.” Mom said.
“Well…” Dad cut in, adding to this playful act they put up, “Maybe except this.”
My dad handed me a white, unmarked box.
“Open it!” He said with a grin.
A lamp. A lamp that gave off a blue light. Nice.
“Well it isn’t much, but like your mom said, you get the real gifts tomorrow. We have to keep it exciting you know…” My dad gave me a wink. “But…I figured you’d probably have more use of this thing tonight.”
I thanked all of them, and they eventually departed for the night.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I was trying to get myself excited for tomorrow, but I felt nothing but emptiness. I felt like the best of my life had been over sometimes, and tonight was one of those times.
I flicked the light on, giving the room a blue tint, and creating a million shadows with the dim nightlight. And then turned it off, sending the room back into the darkness. It was better this way. The shadows formed strange shapes that I didn’t not want to see. Yet my thumb decided to flick the switch, creating an army of shadows in the room once more. And so, it went for a long while.
Tomorrow was Sunday, so I could stay up a bit later. My own room had begun to make me uncomfortable, so I decided to go downstairs and watch some T.V. Lamp in hand, I left the room.
I walked straight to the hall. The window tapped slightly as tiny snowflakes touched it on their way down, and yet, I could not bring myself to look that way. Like I said, the fear was one of the things I carried with me.
The bathroom lights were on, my mom was in there, her bedroom door was wide open. She sang a soft tune in the bathroom, and it just confirmed her presence in there. I would never forget that tune. It sounded like something old and gloomy. It provoked strange imagery in my mind, but only vague shapes that I couldn’t place. Coupled with the winter winds outside, it would form almost a haunting scenery.
The dark corner was still there, the light from the closed bathroom had not reached far enough. I was peeking at me, threating to show me horrid things in itself. Thankfully, I had the lamp in my hand for that. The light my mom and dad had given me, and I flicked it on, sending all terrible entities in the dark fleeing away and leaving behind an innocent corner.
I went down the stairs and to the living room, and watched 10 minutes of mindless television and my eyes began to get drowsy. Turning it off, I went back upstairs, readying myself for the sweet hold of a restful sleep.
I took the final step, looking down to flick the light on to scare the darkness in the corner away, and when I did, the blue light fell on the aged and wrinkled skin of a naked old woman.
I froze in fear. The light held still in my hands. The woman walked, straight past my parents’ bedroom, which was still wide open and in complete darkness, and to the bathroom.
I hear no singing from my mother, no sounds at all except the splashing of water. I stood there frozen. Blue light my only company, while that thing went inside with my mother.
The splashing grew intense, and yet, all I could do was stand still, my eyes wide open and my jaws clung tightly together. I was afraid. But, so afraid, I didn’t feel it. I became it. My body had forgotten it’s own self, and decided to accept whatever horrid end it awaited.
Splish. Splash.
I pictured nothing. It was just the of splashing water to me, nothing more. But I knew there was something far more sinister at hand. I awaited my consciousness to leave, and go far away from me, and yet, it stayed with me, holding my head firmly and making me experience the dreadful reality.
The light of the corner eventually faded, and I remember watching my dad banging at the bathroom door, while my sister stood crying in the corner. My dad yelled too but they were distant, and faint to me. I was trapped within my own shell of fear.
My dad kicked the door down, and there we found her. She lay still in the bathtub, now just a sack of pruned meat and not the person I remember as mom. Just flesh and bones. Flesh….and bones…
And then I realised the irony of it, and it seemed morbidly funny and I let out a slight chuckle. My lips quivered, not knowing whether to laugh or to mourn. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I fell on the floor, my throat threatening to tear as I cycled between crying and laughing, and crying and laughing and then … just weeping.
Mom was dead. And it was my fault as well. I should’ve entered. I could’ve helped her. If it wasn’t for my stupid fucking fears.
I ate my birthday cake while my dad spoke to other officers who’d come during the morning hours. His eyes had been bloodshot read, and it seemed like he was done crying, yet, he sat, putting on a strong face.
My dad helped me dress up for the funeral, I was in shock since her passing, and I barely spoke or got anywhere on my own.
On our way, watching the snowy winter land that our hometown was now transformed to, I remembered the old lady. I hadn’t told anyone about that. How could I? It had been just a nightmare, right? And even if it wasn’t, was I to tell them that I let a ghost drown my mother in a bathtub, even though the cause had been as an accident?
I embraced myself, the funeral was going to be hard on me, but I had to face it.
After walking through the few early arrivals, my grandparents and some uncles (all from my father’s side), I stood next to my dad, but my sister wanted to have some time alone with mother, so dad let her go first, silently patting her on the shoulder.
I stood next to him, hearing him talk in whispers as I saw down to the ground. I looked at the entrance of the church, turning my head away from the grim atmosphere, and there, I saw the outline of a person, a woman. I tried to make out which aunt or neighbour she was, but then she just walked out in a hurry.
I chalked it up to an honest mistake, and began to turn back, just when I heard my sister scream. I froze up for a moment, but I decided to fight through this time, following after my dad and his elder brother as they ran into the room.
My uncle reached first, and I slowed my pace seeing she was okay, he knelt down to my sister and exchanging a few words, before she pointed to my mother’s casket. He stood up abruptly as he saw within and shielded my sister’s eyes as well.
My dad looked into it, and gasped, covering his mouth with his roughened hands, and turned away.
My stomach began to drop, as I got closer, expecting the worst. I looked within.
She was completely naked. The dark gown she was supposed to be clad in was gone. A large cut had been made in her back, and blood, it was clean and dry. Mom no longer even looked like mom. I came to a horrible realisation, as the contents of my stomach began to rise up to my throat.
All that was left of her, was flesh and blood.
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2020.10.22 09:30 cleanyourbedroomboy Mom dance naked

“Once upon a time, in a cold, dark land, there was a king who lived on tall mountains of ice. A king without a castle, who sat on a throne of blood and skin; from the top of his mountain, he watched over his kingdom of skeletons; roaring loudly for his subject skeletons on the arrival of winter, cautioning them of the impending icy winds.”
“The skeleton kingdom was home to all kinds of skeletons. Tall skeletons, short skeletons, fat skeletons and thin skeletons, old skeletons and younger, fresher skeletons.”
“When they were old enough, a skeleton started to grow skin, or had blood flowing through its body. Every time that happened, they would go to the king, and bow in front of him”
““My lord of flesh and blood” A skeleton would say, “Here I give to you a humble offering, so you may make it one with your throne.” And with that, the skeleton would offer the king all the flesh and blood it had, and the king would find a place of it on his throne.”
“Every day, offers were made, and the throne grew bigger and bigger, taller and taller, fatter and fatter, and the king went up higher and higher.”
“More and more skeletons would come in every day and every night, and they would keep giving more and more flesh and blood to the king’s chair.”
“The king’s throne eventually grew so tall; his voice became faint, and soft to the ones who stood below. But the skeletons did not stop; like obedient subjects, they making their humble contributions to the throne.”
“Every day they added.”
“And every night they added.”
““My lord I come to offer you more of my own flesh and blood, and I hope my humble gives more strength to your throne.”, and in reply, they heard just a distant mumble from high up.”
“The throne eventually went so up high, the throne became a living tower, covered in flesh, with veins of blood flowing through it. If you were still enough, a faint heartbeat could be heard from within the tower.”
“The tower went so high up, the skeletons believed that it might have pierced through the skies.”
“One day, a skeleton bowed in front of the tower. Fresh blood dripping from his bony white hands, and a handful of extracted flesh tied neatly with ropes on his back. After his words of offering, he stood up, waiting for the king’s reply. And he waited, and waited. Not a sound. He said his words a second time. He was yet again, met with silence.”
“And then he looked up, to the vast throne he and his fellow skeletons had built, and on top of it…he froze. He could not locate the top.”
“He felt like a sailor on a boat, trapped in the still, windless of the ocean of time. A few moments felt like ages in this uncertain stillness he found himself in. And then, like a gentle breeze of hopeful wind, his skull was kissed by the dropping snow.”
“He waited for the king’s roar, knowing full well that it may never come. The king was lost in the skies.”
“The skeletons rejoiced that day. They had finally gotten themselves rid of the fleshed king that ruled over this land of bones. They had found freedom,”
“The skeletons sang all day. And they sang all night. They danced till their bones came apart, and fell on the icy terrain below; but they put it back together and danced some more.”
“They sang wildly while the moon watched silently. They continued their songs even when the moon had hidden under the blankets of a sunless winter day.”
“And as time went on, the skeletons had found themselves used to this life without a leader, and lived life free and happy.”
“Eventually, their skins began to grow back, and blood began to flow into their veins.”
“The snowfall never stopped. And the winds grew ever colder. And with the growth of their skins, the cold finally touched them. But the cold was not so gentle. It was a fierce, with icy teeth, aimed on their skins. Wanting to bite through their skins, and freeze their blood. And bite it did.”
“The skeletons had never felt the cold before. They had no understanding of it. But with the growth of their skins, they felt the harsh cold for the first time. And with this new agony, they had to live.”
“The old ones died first. And then the youngest ones found themselves frozen in the cold.”
“The skeletons fought against each other, accusing each other of being at fault for this unescapable cold of the harsh winter. And with that, eventually the skeleton kingdom found itself buried in the snow.”
“The few that lived now, found themselves slaves to the ice. By this time, they could not find a way to rid themselves of their skins either. The flesh had found roots in their bones now, and were an eternal part of them.”
“Every summer they lived in peace, but that was only before. Now, with summers, they found themselves preparing themselves for the winter, and with the winters, they prayed for the summer’s return.”
“They had tried to get their king back, readying themselves for heavy and heartfelt words of apologies, and for the punishment that might follow. Yet, the living tower had been darkened and withered by the icy winds of winter, and they king lay trapped on this tower of rot.”
“And so, with heavy hearts, the skeletons finally accepted their fate of agony and hardship, and are now subjects of the winter.”
My mother stood up straight, looking down on me as she smiled warmly, thinking I had fallen into a deep slumber, as she cautiously paced in a gentle manner to the door, and gently shut it, leaving only a tiny sliver of light seeping into my room.
Sleep hadn’t taken me yet, and I opened my eyes, to the dark room. The tiny amount of light that the door allowed in formed a line on the font wall of the room, vertically reaching from the top of the window to the floor.
I had made sure the windows had been kept covered by the blinders as tight as possible, so that I couldn’t accidentally find myself looking out of it. Or anything accidentally looking in.
I shivered at the thought.
When I was seven years old, my mother had been in the hospital, giving birth to my sister, and I had been staying with my aunt Greta at the time. I had been watching T.V. late at night; Aunt Greta didn’t care much about me going to sleep at the time my parents had set for me. But she herself, exhausted, and possibly maybe even slightly drunk, had found rest on the couch, sitting next to me, while the television flickered with various colours, illuminating her skin, edging towards the moment a light bright enough would jerk her out of her sleep. Aunt Greta won that battle, and managed to keep her sleep. But not me, I was on the loosing side, and sleep had finally begun to tug at me.
I tried distracting myself my shaking my head, and then looking around the room. That’s when I made the grave mistake of looking at the front window next to the staircase in the living room.
Two eyes stared back at me, shining white with a touch of red in them. A demonic horned outline stood out, sinisterly grabbing hold of my gaze with the hellish stare it had locked me into.
I don’t remember the exact moment I let go, but my aunt was there to comfort me, calming me down, and the thing outside the window just stood still, flinching a little.
“It’s just a cat!” Aunt Greta said comfortingly, yet slightly irritated; shooing the horrid thing away by tapping the window lightly. It pounced through the window and out of my sight.
Innocent as that encounter had been all those years ago, it had instilled in me a heavy fear of cats and looking through windows in the dark of the night.
Yet tonight, I felt a different kind of heaviness. One that came with feelings of gloom and sadness. The story my mom told me about the skeletons was not a stranger to me. Yet, it was one story I could not find myself to bear. I felt like an idiot, asking to hear that story again. My mom had told it to me a few months back, and I felt the same melancholia back then. I felt that I had grown stronger within to be able to bare that dark tale again, yet, I had only found myself feeling bad about the skeletons. Even a tiny bit of guilt for keeping their suffering alive by asking that tale to be spoken again.
I had pretended to fall asleep in hopes of my mother leaving the story undone, and walking out alone, leaving me to face only my silly fear of the dark, and not this heavy air of sadness that had been left behind.
What was the point of that story? I asked myself. There was no moral attached, not a wholesome outcome. It was a story that tied an iron chain around my tiny eleven-year-old heart, and tossed it on the bottom of a river. I still feel the same way after all these years anyway.
And the way she would tell it, it made the whole experience even more depressing. So vivid, and indifferent her narration was, it was unsettling.
But thankfully, that night was not a snowy night. It was not even winter yet. The night was a rainy one.
There was no storm, not like I would have minded that anyway, but it was a calm, gentle rain with distant soothing rumble of thunder.
I closed my eyes to sleep through the gloom I felt, but the moment I did, images of skeletons building a tower of extracted skin and blood, and dancing to the moonlight filled the darkness.
I tried to think of other things, but the skeletons had already wrapped their body fingers all around my imagination.
I didn’t want to open my eyes and look around (and seeing risk the blinders on the window somehow opened), so I buried myself in the covers, and shut my eyes. My main concern was to just get to fall asleep somehow.
Slowly, I opened my eyes,
Just a tiny peek. Just a tiny peak and nothing would go wrong.
I looked out the covers, and scanned the room. The tiny line of light was gone. My mom had probably already gone to sleep.
My eyes then moved a slightly left, to the drawer, the pile of unread books on top of it, and then…. the window.
Nope!
I got of the covers, and ran to the door, all the while imagining eyes of that horrid thing in the window, I saw all those years ago following me.
I shut the door behind me, and decided to sneak to my parents’ room. I knew I wasn’t supposed to sneak out this way, my mom had a strict bedroom curfew at 9:00 p.m. for us kids. Of course, she would send us to bed earlier, but it was pretty clear she did not want us out of our rooms after nine.
But tonight, she had told me that story again, and hearing that led to a series of events that had led me to loose all of my bravery.
The rain did provide some comfort to me, calming and soft it was, I still dared not look at any windows of the hall.
Shielding half my field of vision by cupping my palm around my right eye, I went across the hall. The faint creaks of the wooden flooring making me painfully aware of my loneliness in the now dark hallway.
There was a corner up front, the left of which were some stairs leading down to the living room, and right of the corner, in a distance worth just a tiny few step was a turn, which led to the door to my parents’ bedroom, and the bathroom.
Now here, I stood still for a moment. I was trying to peak into the corner, and at the same time, trying to focus elsewhere.
If I wasn’t fast enough, something would come out of that corner, and grab me. There was so much darkness in that corner, it almost looked like a dark cloaked man sat there, concealing himself into that place with slow and even breaths.
The dark cloaked man breathed the light in and exhaled the dark. He was darkness itself. If I wasn’t quick enough, he would grab me with those long tendrils of his, and swallow me whole.
A rumble of thunder came, but not before a flash of lightning, lifting the veil of the dark from that corner, revealing… absolutely nothing. No cloaked men, no skeletons. But as soon as the light went away, I saw something there.
It was just for a tiny moment, but I swear I saw a big crawling mass of darkness. It was alive, and moving, with a thousand, or millions of appendeges, tendrils or even legs. Like a spider, or a squid, or some grotesque insect from the deep.
And when the thunder followed this time, it didn’t feel like the soothing, calming touch of my mother’s hands either; rather, it felt like a witch’s cackle, loud and hideous! Piercing through my soul and getting ever closer. A cackle from the depths of a throat with crawling maggots and rotting skin.
I bolted as fast as I can, almost tripping on my own feet, and somehow, I reached the room, and burst right through it. It was unlocked, and there I looked around in the dark, scanning frantically for my mother’s presence.
And there, standing in the dark, in front of the mirror stood someone. Hoping it was my mom, I tried to make out its features, but my heart was also infested with fear and I felt it clawing at my chest, pleading to be let out.
It was as tall as my mother, and was built like a woman. Yet…it was, naked. I could make the outline of bare, sagging breasts. Lighting struck again, this time bringing light to the entire room, and the thunder screamed a blood curdling scream as I saw the figure for what it was. The wrinkled, leathery and aged skin, along with a barren scalp. It’s lip, twisted and the jaws shut so closely, indicating a lack of teeth.
The naked old woman opened her mouth to say a few words, but I felt the world go dim around me, with a bright flash of light, before I was plunged into complete darkness.
Danny? Dan? Yeah…he’s opening his eyes…
The sound of my dad’s voice was the rope I pulled on to come out of my darkness, and I woke up with a jump.
My mother came up to the bed and wrapped her arms around me.
“I was so worried about you!” She said. “How are you feeling baby?”
Her arms around mine, I checked her for wrinkles, and suddenly feeling a bit stupid I turned a bit red.
My dad let out a laugh and punched me in the arm softly, and stood up, rubbing his bald head.
“I told you he’s a strong one. Aren’t you?”
I gave a hesitant nod.
My mother put her hands on my shoulders, sat back and looked me in the eye.
“Now, tell me what happened child. And tell me everything. It’s alright baby, mommy and daddy are here.”
I misliked the way she seemed to baby me, but I did not think to complain.
I looked at the window, the sun was rising up, and the sky seemed clear.
“Well I-“
I remembered what I saw the night before. The crawling mass of darkness, and the naked old lady.
It’s silly now that I think of it, but at that time, I was too embarrassed to tell my
parents that I saw a naked old woman, “NAKED” old woman in our house.
“I just had a bad dream… and I got scared.”
My mom stood up. Telling me words of comfort that were meaningless to me, and walked out, holding my sister’s hand and walking out the room downstairs.
“Dad.” I told my dad as he came down to sit next to me. “I think I want to sleep a bit.”
My dad nodded, “Do you want mom?” He asked me.
I refused and shut my eyes. I was too sleepy to care or think much.
I brushed the old lady off as a bad dream, and nothing more…during the day. At night, as much as I didn’t want to, I believed with all certainty that it was real. Our house was haunted by an old lady’s ghost. I had been sleepless the first few nights, even though I had mom next to me for three days. I kept a lookout at times, peeking out the sheets to see if the old lady had come back (making sure the blinds were shut first), but I didn’t see her.
A few weeks passed and I figured it was just a bad dream, and a year or two later, I pushed it in the rear end of my mind.
It was winter, and the first batch of snow had made its way to my hometown. Flecks of snow buried themselves in my hair, and their cousins and made their place on the ground, forming a white path home.
My sister and I usually walked home from school together. I usually was on my own while my sister talked to one of her friends, I didn’t really know any of them. She and I had never been close, and during school, we drifted apart even more.
She was in middle school, and she already knew what an enormous looser I was. I used to sneak out the school from the back, as to avoid Zackary Levitt and his “Henchmen”.
They never put a hand on me; and that’s how they got away with it. I felt ashamed, unable to stand up to them. Their words bit into me like rows of sharpened teeth.
The trouble began when a white cat had found itself in front of the school, and it got too close to me, and I cried because it kept hissing at me. A lot of people happened to see that. A lot.
Zachary rode past us in one of his friend’s car. I averted my eyes so as to not attract any attention, but the more I tried to look away, the surer my chances of being harassed were.
One of them poked their head out the window, making hissing sounds. That wasn’t so bad, but then I saw my sister and her friend turn back to look at me, and they chuckled a bit.
That hurt me even worse.
That encouraged them even more. They slowed the car a bit, now all of them started meowing and hissing at me while my sister and her friend looked straight ahead, probably trying to conceal their broad grins.
In my mind, I hid in a shell like a turtle, only hearing faint echoes of their taunts. Every time I got mad enough and yelled a few colourful words of my own, they pulled their fists, ready for a fight, and the scrawny, skinny kid I was, I thought it wiser to back away.
I never cried myself to sleep. I didn’t even think about it all that much to be honest. It had become such a normal occurrence; I didn’t feel much about it.
At nights, I stayed awake, staring up to the ceiling. The only source of light in the room was the tiny sliver that creeped in from outside, as my mom stayed up much later.
The blinds as usual, had to remain shut. My fear of cats and windows were the only two things I carried, other than my shame and constant feeling of emptiness. I didn’t care I didn’t have many friends, nor did I care much about school or anything… what I cared about was, seeing through this gloomy fog that surrounded me.
Knock
The sound of my door creaking open made me sit up.
“Happy birthday to you!” My mom sang, holding up a metal tray.
My sister and my dad followed behind, turning the lights on and mom sat in front of me on the bed, placing a tiny chocolate cupcake with a skinny red candle on it, right next to me.
I looked at the clock, it had struck 12.
I put on a smile, and accepted mom’s embrace. I still remember it vividly. She wore no perfume, yet she had a soothing motherly scent to her. Her arms were skinny, and yet she had a firm hold of me. The fabric of her sleeves felt slightly rough on my neck but I didn’t care.
She planted a kiss on my cheek.
“You’re a man now son!” My dad said. He still wore his uniform. He probably got the cake while patrolling, and he would probably have to go back to patrolling after this.
“Eighteen years!” Mom said smiling, “I can’t believe I’m that old now!” She laughed a bit, “Ellen, wish your brother!”
Ellen came to me, giving a forced, loose hug and wishing me awkwardly and moving next to mom.
“You know the rules…. You get the big cake tomorrow… and the gifts too.” Mom said.
“Well…” Dad cut in, adding to this playful act they put up, “Maybe except this.”
My dad handed me a white, unmarked box.
“Open it!” He said with a grin.
A lamp. A lamp that gave off a blue light. Nice.
“Well it isn’t much, but like your mom said, you get the real gifts tomorrow. We have to keep it exciting you know…” My dad gave me a wink. “But…I figured you’d probably have more use of this thing tonight.”
I thanked all of them, and they eventually departed for the night.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I was trying to get myself excited for tomorrow, but I felt nothing but emptiness. I felt like the best of my life had been over sometimes, and tonight was one of those times.
I flicked the light on, giving the room a blue tint, and creating a million shadows with the dim nightlight. And then turned it off, sending the room back into the darkness. It was better this way. The shadows formed strange shapes that I didn’t not want to see. Yet my thumb decided to flick the switch, creating an army of shadows in the room once more. And so, it went for a long while.
Tomorrow was Sunday, so I could stay up a bit later. My own room had begun to make me uncomfortable, so I decided to go downstairs and watch some T.V. Lamp in hand, I left the room.
I walked straight to the hall. The window tapped slightly as tiny snowflakes touched it on their way down, and yet, I could not bring myself to look that way. Like I said, the fear was one of the things I carried with me.
The bathroom lights were on, my mom was in there, her bedroom door was wide open. She sang a soft tune in the bathroom, and it just confirmed her presence in there. I would never forget that tune. It sounded like something old and gloomy. It provoked strange imagery in my mind, but only vague shapes that I couldn’t place. Coupled with the winter winds outside, it would form almost a haunting scenery.
The dark corner was still there, the light from the closed bathroom had not reached far enough. I was peeking at me, threating to show me horrid things in itself. Thankfully, I had the lamp in my hand for that. The light my mom and dad had given me, and I flicked it on, sending all terrible entities in the dark fleeing away and leaving behind an innocent corner.
I went down the stairs and to the living room, and watched 10 minutes of mindless television and my eyes began to get drowsy. Turning it off, I went back upstairs, readying myself for the sweet hold of a restful sleep.
I took the final step, looking down to flick the light on to scare the darkness in the corner away, and when I did, the blue light fell on the aged and wrinkled skin of a naked old woman.
I froze in fear. The light held still in my hands. The woman walked, straight past my parents’ bedroom, which was still wide open and in complete darkness, and to the bathroom.
I hear no singing from my mother, no sounds at all except the splashing of water. I stood there frozen. Blue light my only company, while that thing went inside with my mother.
The splashing grew intense, and yet, all I could do was stand still, my eyes wide open and my jaws clung tightly together. I was afraid. But, so afraid, I didn’t feel it. I became it. My body had forgotten it’s own self, and decided to accept whatever horrid end it awaited.
Splish. Splash.
I pictured nothing. It was just the of splashing water to me, nothing more. But I knew there was something far more sinister at hand. I awaited my consciousness to leave, and go far away from me, and yet, it stayed with me, holding my head firmly and making me experience the dreadful reality.
The light of the corner eventually faded, and I remember watching my dad banging at the bathroom door, while my sister stood crying in the corner. My dad yelled too but they were distant, and faint to me. I was trapped within my own shell of fear.
My dad kicked the door down, and there we found her. She lay still in the bathtub, now just a sack of pruned meat and not the person I remember as mom. Just flesh and bones. Flesh….and bones…
And then I realised the irony of it, and it seemed morbidly funny and I let out a slight chuckle. My lips quivered, not knowing whether to laugh or to mourn. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I fell on the floor, my throat threatening to tear as I cycled between crying and laughing, and crying and laughing and then … just weeping.
Mom was dead. And it was my fault as well. I should’ve entered. I could’ve helped her. If it wasn’t for my stupid fucking fears.
I ate my birthday cake while my dad spoke to other officers who’d come during the morning hours. His eyes had been bloodshot read, and it seemed like he was done crying, yet, he sat, putting on a strong face.
My dad helped me dress up for the funeral, I was in shock since her passing, and I barely spoke or got anywhere on my own.
On our way, watching the snowy winter land that our hometown was now transformed to, I remembered the old lady. I hadn’t told anyone about that. How could I? It had been just a nightmare, right? And even if it wasn’t, was I to tell them that I let a ghost drown my mother in a bathtub, even though the cause had been as an accident?
I embraced myself, the funeral was going to be hard on me, but I had to face it.
After walking through the few early arrivals, my grandparents and some uncles (all from my father’s side), I stood next to my dad, but my sister wanted to have some time alone with mother, so dad let her go first, silently patting her on the shoulder.
I stood next to him, hearing him talk in whispers as I saw down to the ground. I looked at the entrance of the church, turning my head away from the grim atmosphere, and there, I saw the outline of a person, a woman. I tried to make out which aunt or neighbour she was, but then she just walked out in a hurry.
I chalked it up to an honest mistake, and began to turn back, just when I heard my sister scream. I froze up for a moment, but I decided to fight through this time, following after my dad and his elder brother as they ran into the room.
My uncle reached first, and I slowed my pace seeing she was okay, he knelt down to my sister and exchanging a few words, before she pointed to my mother’s casket. He stood up abruptly as he saw within and shielded my sister’s eyes as well.
My dad looked into it, and gasped, covering his mouth with his roughened hands, and turned away.
My stomach began to drop, as I got closer, expecting the worst. I looked within.
She was completely naked. The dark gown she was supposed to be clad in was gone. A large cut had been made in her back, and blood, it was clean and dry. Mom no longer even looked like mom. I came to a horrible realisation, as the contents of my stomach began to rise up to my throat.
All that was left of her, was flesh and blood.
submitted by cleanyourbedroomboy to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 05:40 doradiamond Mom dance naked

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submitted by doradiamond to pan [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 23:45 ThrowRAmeanstepsis Dance mom naked

Starting off by saying I've never posted anything like this and am awfully bad at storytelling, so my apologies if it's all over the place and friggin long. Using a throwaway because this contains some sensitive info.
Some slight backstory so this post makes a bit more sense - my stepmom and dad got married in 2017, which was a secret that none of my other siblings knew about because stepmom had previously robbed our house and took all of my dad's money, and stole his guns (he has a license or whatever you need to get one), and a year later they got back together and my dad didn't want to break the news they were getting married. Anywho, while in school, I lived primarily with my dad, stepmom, and stepsis as my bio mom was having addiction issues. During this time I never got close to my 'step-family', I usually felt alienated from stepmom and stepsis. I have 3 siblings who didn't live at home when my stepmom moved in (back in 2016) as they are much older than me and never trusted her or her daughter, but acted civilly. The most crucial part of this story is the lack of acknowledgment I have gotten from stepmother for her robbing our house and taking all our furniture, and abandoning us (and stealing our cat). When this happened, my dad and I bonded a lot.
Another important instance is one time, while I was living with stepmom/dad/stepsis, my dad was out of town for 2 months (business trip) and had taken away my car away (I'd say slightly reasonably since I had gotten my car towed-dumb kid). My stepmom was supposed to drive me to/from my classes at the nearby community college since I was in 'running start', but she ended up never taking me once or even talking to me the entire time he was gone, and I failed 3 of my classes as a result (I went along with this mostly since I during this time I had an 'attempt' and was lucky to be alive). One night while dad was still out of town, he calls me and says he can't get a hold of stepmom and asked me to check in on her. She was in their room, but the door was locked and I knocked and asked if she was okay. No answer. I kept knocking for while, and still no answer. My dad told me to break down the door. I ended up picking the lock with 2 bobby pins (thanks Skyrim), but she had also locked herself in the bathroom with the bath running. After about 15 mins of knocking and trying to get into the bathroom, and the lockpick not working, I told my dad I should call the police. He said to just break down the door. In this moment, I didn't have the capacity to stand the idea of maybe finding her dead body, and I'm 5'3 and 120 pounds so I wouldn't even be able to knock a door down. I gave a warning I was calling the police to both my dad and presumably her through the bathroom door, I hung up on my dad and called 911. They showed up fairly quickly and started knocking profusely on her bathroom door. Finally, they warned they were going to break down the door, and the bathroom running stopped. She walked out, in just a bathroom robe with dry hair, and asked what was going on. She claimed she was taking a shower and that everything was fine. The police were questioning her and very skeptical of her story, but ultimately no one was harmed so an office just pulled me aside and asked if she had ever used drugs, and I said I didn't know. He told me if I had somewhere else to stay, I should go. Later that night I got an angry call from my dad screaming at me for getting the police involved. I told him I didn't want to see a potentially dead body, and he said I was overreacting and that I was being overdramatic, she would never do that. He was so pissed at me he said when he got back from business trip I shouldn't be there. I was able to get my car keys back that night, and I packed all my stuff and moved to my mom's an hour away.
After that all happened, no one talked about what happened. I just ended up forgiving everything and we never talked about it again, and I still managed a civil but distant relationship with stepmom. My dad and I got close again after a few months passed.
Finally, to the part that I would call the 'climax' of the story. In February, I moved out of my mom's house as she had BPD + bipolar disorder and it became too much for me I got my own apartment in a major nearby city, and my relationship with my parents (both sides) improved a lot. Everything seemed to be falling into place. Then, a few nights ago, I planned on driving down to my dad's to say hi / do laundry (no in-house laundry)/see some friends. When I asked him if that was okay, he said he was going to be out of town, but that his house was my house and I shouldn't have to ask. I then asked if my friends could gather there since no one else is home (step sis lives there but is barely home and usually out partying). I told him the names of my 4 friends who he all knows who would be there, and all was set, he and my stepmom were totally cool with it. Before I left for the gathering, I texted stepsis and said I'd be bringing some friends over since no ones there and my dad and stepmom okayed it, and I had laundry to do, and she usually isn't home, so I asked if I should feed the animals or do anything for her. She said she'd actually be home watching movies with a couple of friends, and I was like ohshit, and felt bad intruding, but she said no worries and that we could even all hang out together if we wanted, as we are around the same age. I pick up my friends, and walk in the front door, greeting her and trying to introduce myself to her friends and whatnot, and she just says "hi" and ignores the rest of us. I figured she was a bit annoyed that we were there, but at this point we wanted to make do with the situation since we are all usually away at separate universities. The air was extremely awkward in the house so my friends and I opted to go into the garage and hang out there, reducing our disturbance and noise. We set up a picnic blanket, pillows, and pulled out some card games, and drank a little. We would have to walk past the area stepsis was with 2 friends to go to the bathroom, and they were just drinking and seemingly gossiping about whatever, just a normal girls night, except they were ignoring us. No biggie, I felt bad being in their space anyways even though this was my dad's house, but I didn't live there anymore, and she took my old room. Fast forward to 2 am, one of my friends comes back from the bathroom to say that stepsis wants me to call my dad and I look at my phone to a bunch of missed calls from my him, and then my phone dies. I already was like oh shit, what did I do? But I didn't have time to ask, as then stepsis and friends started to say they wanted us to leave, and get the fuck out. I had a friend go into the house to grab my belongings for me, and my stepsis threw my uncleaned laundry in a garbage bag and threw it at us. My friend said while she was grabbing my stuff that they were talking shit about my family and bad talking my family. Also, they had started to strip naked and were dancing loudly to music and laughing. We just opted to go to one friend's house to sleep, and 2 of us didn't drink so 1 drove my car and the other just drove us to their house, and we slept there. Before I went to bed, I charged my phone finally and my dad had only sent one message, saying "why would you invite so many people there?" and I told him I gave him the names of everyone that would be coming over before I even asked. I knew he was pissed at me. He never replied, but by this point, I was livid and angry about the situation, about everything. I was mad that stepsis went behind my back and told dad whatever she said, not sure what she said still. But I was also mad that my dad didn't ask me about it first, but instead went on a calling rampage assuming I was doing- god knows what I went off on him over text essentially saying that I have tolerated stepmom and stepsis for years and been civil and tried to make stepsis and stepmom like me, and try and forgive them for all the bullshit, and that I would not return to his house until I got an apology from stepsis, but also an apology from stepmom for all of her shit too. I do feel pretty guilty about going off on him, since in that situation I don't know what he was told, but he has always stood idly by and been complicit in everything that has happened between me and stepsis and stepmom. I just snapped, I couldn't deal with any of the passive aggressiveness from them, the lack of accountability, anything. I was, and am, done pretending. I am not saying I am going to never forgive them, all I want is an apology. But honestly, I don't know if that is going to happen. It has been 3 days and my dad has yet to reply to me. I am really scared, as my dad and I are very close and he was my rock for years when my mom wasn't there, and I love him a lot. All I want is for everyone to get along, but not at the expense that I am tolerating someone treating me like shit. I'll be honest I mostly want to fix the relationship between me and his married-in family because I am scared he won't talk to me if I don't. Stepmom and I have always gotten along better than other siblings, but she is eerily good at faking nice and she tries talking shit about my siblings and dad to me which I don't tolerate. She has done weird stuff like ignore me when I walk through their front door if she and my dad are in an argument. Idk. All of it is weird. I just want my relationship with them to be okay, but I want closure for everything that has happened as well. What can I do or say to make everything okay? How do I repair the relationship with stepmom and stepsis so I can keep my good relationship with my dad? I have a lot of anger towards them, but most of it is because of the lack of acknowledgment and passive-aggressiveness across the years. People of Reddit -- what would you do in this situation, and is it possible to stay close with my dad at this point?
I welcome any insight on this situation (if anyone gets this far lol) but please be considerate to everyone in this story, there's a lot more to it but I wanted to keep this as short but also provide enough information so the story made sense, as there are a lot of elements.
TLDR; My stepmom and stepsis ignore me and are passive-aggressive to me and siblings, and the other day my stepsis snapped on me in front of my friends and my dad is complicit in the situation and refuses to acknowledge how badly they treat me or stick up for me. Now I want to get a good relationship with my dad back but I am not sure I can move on from the years of how they treated me without them acknowledging it.
Sorry for the extra background, it was sort of therapeutic for me to put all of this in writing. Again thank you if you took the time to read. <3
submitted by ThrowRAmeanstepsis to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 18:34 Megatallica83 Mom dance naked

Hello, I posted here last April about when my other grandma died and how the funeral service was so uncomfortable. Now my other grandma - and last living grandparent - is likely dying now. I have a super enmeshed highly conservative Christian (Baptist) family. I am not that close to them anymore since they were so emotionally abusive to me when they accidentally found out that I'm not a Christian anymore almost 6 years ago. My aunts are nosy and must have stalked me on social media, saw that I was becoming an atheist and called my parents one night while I was still living with and dependent on them for a few years to come. What ensued was a guilt trip and shame-laden emotionally abusive shitstorm. I pretended to be a Christian again, and still am pretending, so they wouldn't be up my ass all the time anymore. So after that and some other stuff, I keep them at an arms length now and aren't very close to them anymore for the most part.
My grandma never treated me this way, but there is a lot she doesn't know about me too. We have had a great relationship and I feel closer to her than the rest of them, and she's about to be moved to hospice today or tomorrow. She's been in a sharp decline since last November. I could have never seen this coming a year ago today. It turns out she has cancer and has been constant pain and suffering for so long. Her organs aren't functioning correctly. The only hope has been dialysis and a ventilator but she doesn't want to be tied to machines to "live" and I do not blame her one bit. I'll be glad she isn't suffering anymore but I'll miss the hell out of her.
I used to come down on the weekends or on a Friday after work sometimes and watch TV with her, and many times we'd go to the little diner down the street and eat dinner together. She'd never let me pay for my own food even though she didn't have much and I was working. She is a prudish woman but she loves the hell out of some Naked and Afraid. She'd always have it on that or Alaskan Bush People or Alaskan Gold Rush (?). I wish I could go back and see her more often or relive some of it but I can't. She used to keep me and my brother during summer break. She was the stereotypical grandma that kept sweets around and would always ask if you'd eat or if you would like her to make you something to eat.
This one hits harder because I was so much closer to her than other grandparents that died a long time ago or that I didn't see often. I have anxiety and depression and have always had a huge fear of people I love dying. I knew this day would come one day and I have always dreaded it. She can't live forever.
My other grandma's funeral was so uncomfortable as she'd been sick too, and the preacher kept going on about how she was dancing on the Streets of Gold with Grandpa, both young again, and how they've met Jesus and shook Moses' hand. My dad, as we watched her pass, told me that my husband and brother and had better make sure "we're right with God" as it would sure break Grandma and Grandpa's heart if we didn't "make it to Heaven". The preacher said similar things, and it just felt emotionally manipulative and cruel. I didn't say anything because I felt I couldn't. And I had no one else to turn to who understood and felt the same way. My husband helps to talk with about it but he's a Christian too.
I dread this grandmother's funeral, because it's her funeral and we're losing her, but also because I'm about positive I know who will eulogize her. It's probably going to be the current preacher at her church that she hasn't been able to attend for a year or so. God, he makes me so uncomfortable. Long story short, he almost officiated our wedding but then called it quits with under two weeks to go because he found out my husband was divorced. It didn't matter that she cheated and told him she didn't love him. All this guy, who isn't even very old, cared about was that I'm not his first wife. He also got very creepy with us and pried into our sex lives interrogation-style. He said he couldn't stand before God and marry us with us having had sex already, and that if we wanted him to marry us, we'd have to avoid each other and sex for 30 days straight. He said our honeymoon was officially ruined and then that if we wanted it to be "REALLY good" we'd abstain before the wedding.
I go out of my way to avoid this creep, even at my cousin's mom's funeral a month ago. I don't think I can this time, and it makes me feel even worse that he'll be there and probably approach us. I don't want to cause a scene and tell him that he makes me uncomfortable, but we'll see what happens. Somehow I think my family will be less than understanding if I said he makes me very uncomfortable. That has always been the case so far.
I just feel really sad and exhausted right now.
submitted by Megatallica83 to atheism [link] [comments]


2020.10.19 14:52 fatunicornn Mom dance naked

Sorry, this is gonna be a long one because I want to explain how it got to this point.
I’ve been dating my boyfriend for 3 years, his brother and his girlfriend have been dating for a year. When they first started dating, she followed my private Instagram account and saw pictures of me in a sports bra, they were my weight loss progress pictures. My boyfriend and his brother share mutual friends and they were at a little gathering that I wasn’t at and his girlfriend brought up my sports bra pictures and referred to them as “naked pictures”. Everyone told her they’re not “naked pictures” and my boyfriend told me what happened, so I confronted her about it. She apologized and said she was just joking. I told her I appreciate the apology and I made it clear that wasn’t her punchline, I didn’t even know her well enough for her to make “jokes” about me.
Fast forward a few more months, I participated in a fundraiser talents show where I danced with this guy I met through a mutual friend. Literally we did the talent show bit and never spoke to each other again but his brother and his girlfriend saw a picture of us standing next to each other after the show and told their mom that I was cheating on my boyfriend, which wasn’t the case at all. I messaged both of them and said that I didn’t appreciate that their noses were in my business especially when what they said wasn’t true. His brother brought up the fact that I told on him when he cheated on his ex so what’s the difference? The difference is that he actually cheated and I had screenshots of him admitting it, and why did it matter anymore? Him and I had that argument about two years ago, and resolved it, plus he’s been with his current girlfriend for awhile. His girlfriend didn’t respond to the messages, just him.
Now, a month ago I was hanging out with my boyfriend and his 13-year-old sister, the girlfriend’s car was parked in the driveway which lead to his sister telling me that the girlfriend talked about how annoying I was to her. Obviously this irritated me, because it seems like she’s always talking about me (and to a 13-year-old)??? Instead of reaching out to her this time, I tweeted “what’s it like to get along with your boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend because mine just talks shit on me” out of frustration. His brother saw the tweet and said he downloaded Twitter just to respond to me & that no one talks about me. However, an hour later I get a text from his girlfriend admitting to talking about me and apologizing.
***If you won’t read the incidents above at least read this part 😅:
I hate going to family events because she puts on a fake nice act around me and I know she says things about me when I’m not around. She just has a bad habit of gossiping and a lack of boundaries. Because of this, I try not to interact with her at all, I don’t even want to say hello to her. My boyfriend can’t stand her as well and it’s kind of ruining his relationship with his brother. He says he doesn’t want to hang out with him anymore because whenever he’s with his brother, she’ll be there too. When we have a family dinner, I can’t get a word in because she dominates the conversation. When I try to speak, she’ll just talk louder than me. So I’ve stopped trying all together and only speak when I’m spoken to. She makes me so uncomfortable, I just don’t know how to navigate the situation at all. We agreed to meet up to talk but I don’t know what I should say to her other than “I don’t think we could ever be friends, it’s too late for that but I just want you to stop talking about me completely so I can feel comfortable being cordial around you”.
TLDR: I’m uncomfortable around my boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend because she has a bad habit of gossiping and a lack of boundaries. How should I navigate the situation and if/when we have a sit-down conversation, what are some things you think I should bring up?
submitted by fatunicornn to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.18 17:49 cleanyourbedroomboy Mom dance naked

“Once upon a time, in a cold, dark land, there was a king who lived on tall mountains of ice. A king without a castle, who sat on a throne of blood and skin; from the top of his mountain, he watched over his kingdom of skeletons; roaring loudly for his subject skeletons on the arrival of winter, cautioning them of the impending icy winds.”
“The skeleton kingdom was home to all kinds of skeletons. Tall skeletons, short skeletons, fat skeletons and thin skeletons, old skeletons and younger, fresher skeletons.”
“When they were old enough, a skeleton started to grow skin, or had blood flowing through its body. Every time that happened, they would go to the king, and bow in front of him”
““My lord of flesh and blood” A skeleton would say, “Here I give to you a humble offering, so you may make it one with your throne.” And with that, the skeleton would offer the king all the flesh and blood it had, and the king would find a place of it on his throne.”
“Every day, offers were made, and the throne grew bigger and bigger, taller and taller, fatter and fatter, and the king went up higher and higher.”
“More and more skeletons would come in every day and every night, and they would keep giving more and more flesh and blood to the king’s chair.”
“The king’s throne eventually grew so tall; his voice became faint, and soft to the ones who stood below. But the skeletons did not stop; like obedient subjects, they making their humble contributions to the throne.”
“Every day they added.”
“And every night they added.”
““My lord I come to offer you more of my own flesh and blood, and I hope my humble gives more strength to your throne.”, and in reply, they heard just a distant mumble from high up.”
“The throne eventually went so up high, the throne became a living tower, covered in flesh, with veins of blood flowing through it. If you were still enough, a faint heartbeat could be heard from within the tower.”
“The tower went so high up, the skeletons believed that it might have pierced through the skies.”
“One day, a skeleton bowed in front of the tower. Fresh blood dripping from his bony white hands, and a handful of extracted flesh tied neatly with ropes on his back. After his words of offering, he stood up, waiting for the king’s reply. And he waited, and waited. Not a sound. He said his words a second time. He was yet again, met with silence.”
“And then he looked up, to the vast throne he and his fellow skeletons had built, and on top of it…he froze. He could not locate the top.”
“He felt like a sailor on a boat, trapped in the still, windless of the ocean of time. A few moments felt like ages in this uncertain stillness he found himself in. And then, like a gentle breeze of hopeful wind, his skull was kissed by the dropping snow.”
“He waited for the king’s roar, knowing full well that it may never come. The king was lost in the skies.”
“The skeletons rejoiced that day. They had finally gotten themselves rid of the fleshed king that ruled over this land of bones. They had found freedom,”
“The skeletons sang all day. And they sang all night. They danced till their bones came apart, and fell on the icy terrain below; but they put it back together and danced some more.”
“They sang wildly while the moon watched silently. They continued their songs even when the moon had hidden under the blankets of a sunless winter day.”
“And as time went on, the skeletons had found themselves used to this life without a leader, and lived life free and happy.”
“Eventually, their skins began to grow back, and blood began to flow into their veins.”
“The snowfall never stopped. And the winds grew ever colder. And with the growth of their skins, the cold finally touched them. But the cold was not so gentle. It was a fierce, with icy teeth, aimed on their skins. Wanting to bite through their skins, and freeze their blood. And bite it did.”
“The skeletons had never felt the cold before. They had no understanding of it. But with the growth of their skins, they felt the harsh cold for the first time. And with this new agony, they had to live.”
“The old ones died first. And then the youngest ones found themselves frozen in the cold.”
“The skeletons fought against each other, accusing each other of being at fault for this unescapable cold of the harsh winter. And with that, eventually the skeleton kingdom found itself buried in the snow.”
“The few that lived now, found themselves slaves to the ice. By this time, they could not find a way to rid themselves of their skins either. The flesh had found roots in their bones now, and were an eternal part of them.”
“Every summer they lived in peace, but that was only before. Now, with summers, they found themselves preparing themselves for the winter, and with the winters, they prayed for the summer’s return.”
“They had tried to get their king back, readying themselves for heavy and heartfelt words of apologies, and for the punishment that might follow. Yet, the living tower had been darkened and withered by the icy winds of winter, and they king lay trapped on this tower of rot.”
“And so, with heavy hearts, the skeletons finally accepted their fate of agony and hardship, and are now subjects of the winter.”
My mother stood up straight, looking down on me as she smiled warmly, thinking I had fallen into a deep slumber, as she cautiously paced in a gentle manner to the door, and gently shut it, leaving only a tiny sliver of light seeping into my room.
Sleep hadn’t taken me yet, and I opened my eyes, to the dark room. The tiny amount of light that the door allowed in formed a line on the font wall of the room, vertically reaching from the top of the window to the floor.
I had made sure the windows had been kept covered by the blinders as tight as possible, so that I couldn’t accidentally find myself looking out of it. Or anything accidentally looking in.
I shivered at the thought.
When I was seven years old, my mother had been in the hospital, giving birth to my sister, and I had been staying with my aunt Greta at the time. I had been watching T.V. late at night; Aunt Greta didn’t care much about me going to sleep at the time my parents had set for me. But she herself, exhausted, and possibly maybe even slightly drunk, had found rest on the couch, sitting next to me, while the television flickered with various colours, illuminating her skin, edging towards the moment a light bright enough would jerk her out of her sleep. Aunt Greta won that battle, and managed to keep her sleep. But not me, I was on the loosing side, and sleep had finally begun to tug at me.
I tried distracting myself my shaking my head, and then looking around the room. That’s when I made the grave mistake of looking at the front window next to the staircase in the living room.
Two eyes stared back at me, shining white with a touch of red in them. A demonic horned outline stood out, sinisterly grabbing hold of my gaze with the hellish stare it had locked me into.
I don’t remember the exact moment I let go, but my aunt was there to comfort me, calming me down, and the thing outside the window just stood still, flinching a little.
“It’s just a cat!” Aunt Greta said comfortingly, yet slightly irritated; shooing the horrid thing away by tapping the window lightly. It pounced through the window and out of my sight.
Innocent as that encounter had been all those years ago, it had instilled in me a heavy fear of cats and looking through windows in the dark of the night.
Yet tonight, I felt a different kind of heaviness. One that came with feelings of gloom and sadness. The story my mom told me about the skeletons was not a stranger to me. Yet, it was one story I could not find myself to bear. I felt like an idiot, asking to hear that story again. My mom had told it to me a few months back, and I felt the same melancholia back then. I felt that I had grown stronger within to be able to bare that dark tale again, yet, I had only found myself feeling bad about the skeletons. Even a tiny bit of guilt for keeping their suffering alive by asking that tale to be spoken again.
I had pretended to fall asleep in hopes of my mother leaving the story undone, and walking out alone, leaving me to face only my silly fear of the dark, and not this heavy air of sadness that had been left behind.
What was the point of that story? I asked myself. There was no moral attached, not a wholesome outcome. It was a story that tied an iron chain around my tiny eleven-year-old heart, and tossed it on the bottom of a river. I still feel the same way after all these years anyway.
And the way she would tell it, it made the whole experience even more depressing. So vivid, and indifferent her narration was, it was unsettling.
But thankfully, that night was not a snowy night. It was not even winter yet. The night was a rainy one.
There was no storm, not like I would have minded that anyway, but it was a calm, gentle rain with distant soothing rumble of thunder.
I closed my eyes to sleep through the gloom I felt, but the moment I did, images of skeletons building a tower of extracted skin and blood, and dancing to the moonlight filled the darkness.
I tried to think of other things, but the skeletons had already wrapped their body fingers all around my imagination.
I didn’t want to open my eyes and look around (and seeing risk the blinders on the window somehow opened), so I buried myself in the covers, and shut my eyes. My main concern was to just get to fall asleep somehow.
Slowly, I opened my eyes,
Just a tiny peek. Just a tiny peak and nothing would go wrong.
I looked out the covers, and scanned the room. The tiny line of light was gone. My mom had probably already gone to sleep.
My eyes then moved a slightly left, to the drawer, the pile of unread books on top of it, and then…. the window.
Nope!
I got of the covers, and ran to the door, all the while imagining eyes of that horrid thing in the window, I saw all those years ago following me.
I shut the door behind me, and decided to sneak to my parents’ room. I knew I wasn’t supposed to sneak out this way, my mom had a strict bedroom curfew at 9:00 p.m. for us kids. Of course, she would send us to bed earlier, but it was pretty clear she did not want us out of our rooms after nine.
But tonight, she had told me that story again, and hearing that led to a series of events that had led me to loose all of my bravery.
The rain did provide some comfort to me, calming and soft it was, I still dared not look at any windows of the hall.
Shielding half my field of vision by cupping my palm around my right eye, I went across the hall. The faint creaks of the wooden flooring making me painfully aware of my loneliness in the now dark hallway.
There was a corner up front, the left of which were some stairs leading down to the living room, and right of the corner, in a distance worth just a tiny few step was a turn, which led to the door to my parents’ bedroom, and the bathroom.
Now here, I stood still for a moment. I was trying to peak into the corner, and at the same time, trying to focus elsewhere.
If I wasn’t fast enough, something would come out of that corner, and grab me. There was so much darkness in that corner, it almost looked like a dark cloaked man sat there, concealing himself into that place with slow and even breaths.
The dark cloaked man breathed the light in and exhaled the dark. He was darkness itself. If I wasn’t quick enough, he would grab me with those long tendrils of his, and swallow me whole.
A rumble of thunder came, but not before a flash of lightning, lifting the veil of the dark from that corner, revealing… absolutely nothing. No cloaked men, no skeletons. But as soon as the light went away, I saw something there.
It was just for a tiny moment, but I swear I saw a big crawling mass of darkness. It was alive, and moving, with a thousand, or millions of appendeges, tendrils or even legs. Like a spider, or a squid, or some grotesque insect from the deep.
And when the thunder followed this time, it didn’t feel like the soothing, calming touch of my mother’s hands either; rather, it felt like a witch’s cackle, loud and hideous! Piercing through my soul and getting ever closer. A cackle from the depths of a throat with crawling maggots and rotting skin.
I bolted as fast as I can, almost tripping on my own feet, and somehow, I reached the room, and burst right through it. It was unlocked, and there I looked around in the dark, scanning frantically for my mother’s presence.
And there, standing in the dark, in front of the mirror stood someone. Hoping it was my mom, I tried to make out its features, but my heart was also infested with fear and I felt it clawing at my chest, pleading to be let out.
It was as tall as my mother, and was built like a woman. Yet…it was, naked. I could make the outline of bare, sagging breasts. Lighting struck again, this time bringing light to the entire room, and the thunder screamed a blood curdling scream as I saw the figure for what it was. The wrinkled, leathery and aged skin, along with a barren scalp. It’s lip, twisted and the jaws shut so closely, indicating a lack of teeth.
The naked old woman opened her mouth to say a few words, but I felt the world go dim around me, with a bright flash of light, before I was plunged into complete darkness.
Danny? Dan? Yeah…he’s opening his eyes…
The sound of my dad’s voice was the rope I pulled on to come out of my darkness, and I woke up with a jump.
My mother came up to the bed and wrapped her arms around me.
“I was so worried about you!” She said. “How are you feeling baby?”
Her arms around mine, I checked her for wrinkles, and suddenly feeling a bit stupid I turned a bit red.
My dad let out a laugh and punched me in the arm softly, and stood up, rubbing his bald head.
“I told you he’s a strong one. Aren’t you?”
I gave a hesitant nod.
My mother put her hands on my shoulders, sat back and looked me in the eye.
“Now, tell me what happened child. And tell me everything. It’s alright baby, mommy and daddy are here.”
I misliked the way she seemed to baby me, but I did not think to complain.
I looked at the window, the sun was rising up, and the sky seemed clear.
“Well I-“
I remembered what I saw the night before. The crawling mass of darkness, and the naked old lady.
It’s silly now that I think of it, but at that time, I was too embarrassed to tell my
parents that I saw a naked old woman, “NAKED” old woman in our house.
“I just had a bad dream… and I got scared.”
My mom stood up. Telling me words of comfort that were meaningless to me, and walked out, holding my sister’s hand and walking out the room downstairs.
“Dad.” I told my dad as he came down to sit next to me. “I think I want to sleep a bit.”
My dad nodded, “Do you want mom?” He asked me.
I refused and shut my eyes. I was too sleepy to care or think much.
I brushed the old lady off as a bad dream, and nothing more…during the day. At night, as much as I didn’t want to, I believed with all certainty that it was real. Our house was haunted by an old lady’s ghost. I had been sleepless the first few nights, even though I had mom next to me for three days. I kept a lookout at times, peeking out the sheets to see if the old lady had come back (making sure the blinds were shut first), but I didn’t see her.
A few weeks passed and I figured it was just a bad dream, and a year or two later, I pushed it in the rear end of my mind.
It was winter, and the first batch of snow had made its way to my hometown. Flecks of snow buried themselves in my hair, and their cousins and made their place on the ground, forming a white path home.
My sister and I usually walked home from school together. I usually was on my own while my sister talked to one of her friends, I didn’t really know any of them. She and I had never been close, and during school, we drifted apart even more.
She was in middle school, and she already knew what an enormous looser I was. I used to sneak out the school from the back, as to avoid Zackary Levitt and his “Henchmen”.
They never put a hand on me; and that’s how they got away with it. I felt ashamed, unable to stand up to them. Their words bit into me like rows of sharpened teeth.
The trouble began when a white cat had found itself in front of the school, and it got too close to me, and I cried because it kept hissing at me. A lot of people happened to see that. A lot.
Zachary rode past us in one of his friend’s car. I averted my eyes so as to not attract any attention, but the more I tried to look away, the surer my chances of being harassed were.
One of them poked their head out the window, making hissing sounds. That wasn’t so bad, but then I saw my sister and her friend turn back to look at me, and they chuckled a bit.
That hurt me even worse.
That encouraged them even more. They slowed the car a bit, now all of them started meowing and hissing at me while my sister and her friend looked straight ahead, probably trying to conceal their broad grins.
In my mind, I hid in a shell like a turtle, only hearing faint echoes of their taunts. Every time I got mad enough and yelled a few colourful words of my own, they pulled their fists, ready for a fight, and the scrawny, skinny kid I was, I thought it wiser to back away.
I never cried myself to sleep. I didn’t even think about it all that much to be honest. It had become such a normal occurrence; I didn’t feel much about it.
At nights, I stayed awake, staring up to the ceiling. The only source of light in the room was the tiny sliver that creeped in from outside, as my mom stayed up much later.
The blinds as usual, had to remain shut. My fear of cats and windows were the only two things I carried, other than my shame and constant feeling of emptiness. I didn’t care I didn’t have many friends, nor did I care much about school or anything… what I cared about was, seeing through this gloomy fog that surrounded me.
Knock
The sound of my door creaking open made me sit up.
“Happy birthday to you!” My mom sang, holding up a metal tray.
My sister and my dad followed behind, turning the lights on and mom sat in front of me on the bed, placing a tiny chocolate cupcake with a skinny red candle on it, right next to me.
I looked at the clock, it had struck 12.
I put on a smile, and accepted mom’s embrace. I still remember it vividly. She wore no perfume, yet she had a soothing motherly scent to her. Her arms were skinny, and yet she had a firm hold of me. The fabric of her sleeves felt slightly rough on my neck but I didn’t care.
She planted a kiss on my cheek.
“You’re a man now son!” My dad said. He still wore his uniform. He probably got the cake while patrolling, and he would probably have to go back to patrolling after this.
“Eighteen years!” Mom said smiling, “I can’t believe I’m that old now!” She laughed a bit, “Ellen, wish your brother!”
Ellen came to me, giving a forced, loose hug and wishing me awkwardly and moving next to mom.
“You know the rules…. You get the big cake tomorrow… and the gifts too.” Mom said.
“Well…” Dad cut in, adding to this playful act they put up, “Maybe except this.”
My dad handed me a white, unmarked box.
“Open it!” He said with a grin.
A lamp. A lamp that gave off a blue light. Nice.
“Well it isn’t much, but like your mom said, you get the real gifts tomorrow. We have to keep it exciting you know…” My dad gave me a wink. “But…I figured you’d probably have more use of this thing tonight.”
I thanked all of them, and they eventually departed for the night.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I was trying to get myself excited for tomorrow, but I felt nothing but emptiness. I felt like the best of my life had been over sometimes, and tonight was one of those times.
I flicked the light on, giving the room a blue tint, and creating a million shadows with the dim nightlight. And then turned it off, sending the room back into the darkness. It was better this way. The shadows formed strange shapes that I didn’t not want to see. Yet my thumb decided to flick the switch, creating an army of shadows in the room once more. And so, it went for a long while.
Tomorrow was Sunday, so I could stay up a bit later. My own room had begun to make me uncomfortable, so I decided to go downstairs and watch some T.V. Lamp in hand, I left the room.
I walked straight to the hall. The window tapped slightly as tiny snowflakes touched it on their way down, and yet, I could not bring myself to look that way. Like I said, the fear was one of the things I carried with me.
The bathroom lights were on, my mom was in there, her bedroom door was wide open. She sang a soft tune in the bathroom, and it just confirmed her presence in there. I would never forget that tune. It sounded like something old and gloomy. It provoked strange imagery in my mind, but only vague shapes that I couldn’t place. Coupled with the winter winds outside, it would form almost a haunting scenery.
The dark corner was still there, the light from the closed bathroom had not reached far enough. I was peeking at me, threating to show me horrid things in itself. Thankfully, I had the lamp in my hand for that. The light my mom and dad had given me, and I flicked it on, sending all terrible entities in the dark fleeing away and leaving behind an innocent corner.
I went down the stairs and to the living room, and watched 10 minutes of mindless television and my eyes began to get drowsy. Turning it off, I went back upstairs, readying myself for the sweet hold of a restful sleep.
I took the final step, looking down to flick the light on to scare the darkness in the corner away, and when I did, the blue light fell on the aged and wrinkled skin of a naked old woman.
I froze in fear. The light held still in my hands. The woman walked, straight past my parents’ bedroom, which was still wide open and in complete darkness, and to the bathroom.
I hear no singing from my mother, no sounds at all except the splashing of water. I stood there frozen. Blue light my only company, while that thing went inside with my mother.
The splashing grew intense, and yet, all I could do was stand still, my eyes wide open and my jaws clung tightly together. I was afraid. But, so afraid, I didn’t feel it. I became it. My body had forgotten it’s own self, and decided to accept whatever horrid end it awaited.
Splish. Splash.
I pictured nothing. It was just the of splashing water to me, nothing more. But I knew there was something far more sinister at hand. I awaited my consciousness to leave, and go far away from me, and yet, it stayed with me, holding my head firmly and making me experience the dreadful reality.
The light of the corner eventually faded, and I remember watching my dad banging at the bathroom door, while my sister stood crying in the corner. My dad yelled too but they were distant, and faint to me. I was trapped within my own shell of fear.
My dad kicked the door down, and there we found her. She lay still in the bathtub, now just a sack of pruned meat and not the person I remember as mom. Just flesh and bones. Flesh….and bones…
And then I realised the irony of it, and it seemed morbidly funny and I let out a slight chuckle. My lips quivered, not knowing whether to laugh or to mourn. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I fell on the floor, my throat threatening to tear as I cycled between crying and laughing, and crying and laughing and then … just weeping.
Mom was dead. And it was my fault as well. I should’ve entered. I could’ve helped her. If it wasn’t for my stupid fucking fears.
I ate my birthday cake while my dad spoke to other officers who’d come during the morning hours. His eyes had been bloodshot read, and it seemed like he was done crying, yet, he sat, putting on a strong face.
My dad helped me dress up for the funeral, I was in shock since her passing, and I barely spoke or got anywhere on my own.
On our way, watching the snowy winter land that our hometown was now transformed to, I remembered the old lady. I hadn’t told anyone about that. How could I? It had been just a nightmare, right? And even if it wasn’t, was I to tell them that I let a ghost drown my mother in a bathtub, even though the cause had been as an accident?
I embraced myself, the funeral was going to be hard on me, but I had to face it.
After walking through the few early arrivals, my grandparents and some uncles (all from my father’s side), I stood next to my dad, but my sister wanted to have some time alone with mother, so dad let her go first, silently patting her on the shoulder.
I stood next to him, hearing him talk in whispers as I saw down to the ground. I looked at the entrance of the church, turning my head away from the grim atmosphere, and there, I saw the outline of a person, a woman. I tried to make out which aunt or neighbour she was, but then she just walked out in a hurry.
I chalked it up to an honest mistake, and began to turn back, just when I heard my sister scream. I froze up for a moment, but I decided to fight through this time, following after my dad and his elder brother as they ran into the room.
My uncle reached first, and I slowed my pace seeing she was okay, he knelt down to my sister and exchanging a few words, before she pointed to my mother’s casket. He stood up abruptly as he saw within and shielded my sister’s eyes as well.
My dad looked into it, and gasped, covering his mouth with his roughened hands, and turned away.
My stomach began to drop, as I got closer, expecting the worst. I looked within.
She was completely naked. The dark gown she was supposed to be clad in was gone. A large cut had been made in her back, and blood, it was clean and dry. Mom no longer even looked like mom. I came to a horrible realisation, as the contents of my stomach began to rise up to my throat.
All that was left of her, was flesh and blood.
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2020.10.18 17:48 cleanyourbedroomboy Mom dance naked

“Once upon a time, in a cold, dark land, there was a king who lived on tall mountains of ice. A king without a castle, who sat on a throne of blood and skin; from the top of his mountain, he watched over his kingdom of skeletons; roaring loudly for his subject skeletons on the arrival of winter, cautioning them of the impending icy winds.”
“The skeleton kingdom was home to all kinds of skeletons. Tall skeletons, short skeletons, fat skeletons and thin skeletons, old skeletons and younger, fresher skeletons.”
“When they were old enough, a skeleton started to grow skin, or had blood flowing through its body. Every time that happened, they would go to the king, and bow in front of him”
““My lord of flesh and blood” A skeleton would say, “Here I give to you a humble offering, so you may make it one with your throne.” And with that, the skeleton would offer the king all the flesh and blood it had, and the king would find a place of it on his throne.”
“Every day, offers were made, and the throne grew bigger and bigger, taller and taller, fatter and fatter, and the king went up higher and higher.”
“More and more skeletons would come in every day and every night, and they would keep giving more and more flesh and blood to the king’s chair.”
“The king’s throne eventually grew so tall; his voice became faint, and soft to the ones who stood below. But the skeletons did not stop; like obedient subjects, they making their humble contributions to the throne.”
“Every day they added.”
“And every night they added.”
““My lord I come to offer you more of my own flesh and blood, and I hope my humble gives more strength to your throne.”, and in reply, they heard just a distant mumble from high up.”
“The throne eventually went so up high, the throne became a living tower, covered in flesh, with veins of blood flowing through it. If you were still enough, a faint heartbeat could be heard from within the tower.”
“The tower went so high up, the skeletons believed that it might have pierced through the skies.”
“One day, a skeleton bowed in front of the tower. Fresh blood dripping from his bony white hands, and a handful of extracted flesh tied neatly with ropes on his back. After his words of offering, he stood up, waiting for the king’s reply. And he waited, and waited. Not a sound. He said his words a second time. He was yet again, met with silence.”
“And then he looked up, to the vast throne he and his fellow skeletons had built, and on top of it…he froze. He could not locate the top.”
“He felt like a sailor on a boat, trapped in the still, windless of the ocean of time. A few moments felt like ages in this uncertain stillness he found himself in. And then, like a gentle breeze of hopeful wind, his skull was kissed by the dropping snow.”
“He waited for the king’s roar, knowing full well that it may never come. The king was lost in the skies.”
“The skeletons rejoiced that day. They had finally gotten themselves rid of the fleshed king that ruled over this land of bones. They had found freedom,”
“The skeletons sang all day. And they sang all night. They danced till their bones came apart, and fell on the icy terrain below; but they put it back together and danced some more.”
“They sang wildly while the moon watched silently. They continued their songs even when the moon had hidden under the blankets of a sunless winter day.”
“And as time went on, the skeletons had found themselves used to this life without a leader, and lived life free and happy.”
“Eventually, their skins began to grow back, and blood began to flow into their veins.”
“The snowfall never stopped. And the winds grew ever colder. And with the growth of their skins, the cold finally touched them. But the cold was not so gentle. It was a fierce, with icy teeth, aimed on their skins. Wanting to bite through their skins, and freeze their blood. And bite it did.”
“The skeletons had never felt the cold before. They had no understanding of it. But with the growth of their skins, they felt the harsh cold for the first time. And with this new agony, they had to live.”
“The old ones died first. And then the youngest ones found themselves frozen in the cold.”
“The skeletons fought against each other, accusing each other of being at fault for this unescapable cold of the harsh winter. And with that, eventually the skeleton kingdom found itself buried in the snow.”
“The few that lived now, found themselves slaves to the ice. By this time, they could not find a way to rid themselves of their skins either. The flesh had found roots in their bones now, and were an eternal part of them.”
“Every summer they lived in peace, but that was only before. Now, with summers, they found themselves preparing themselves for the winter, and with the winters, they prayed for the summer’s return.”
“They had tried to get their king back, readying themselves for heavy and heartfelt words of apologies, and for the punishment that might follow. Yet, the living tower had been darkened and withered by the icy winds of winter, and they king lay trapped on this tower of rot.”
“And so, with heavy hearts, the skeletons finally accepted their fate of agony and hardship, and are now subjects of the winter.”
My mother stood up straight, looking down on me as she smiled warmly, thinking I had fallen into a deep slumber, as she cautiously paced in a gentle manner to the door, and gently shut it, leaving only a tiny sliver of light seeping into my room.
Sleep hadn’t taken me yet, and I opened my eyes, to the dark room. The tiny amount of light that the door allowed in formed a line on the font wall of the room, vertically reaching from the top of the window to the floor.
I had made sure the windows had been kept covered by the blinders as tight as possible, so that I couldn’t accidentally find myself looking out of it. Or anything accidentally looking in.
I shivered at the thought.
When I was seven years old, my mother had been in the hospital, giving birth to my sister, and I had been staying with my aunt Greta at the time. I had been watching T.V. late at night; Aunt Greta didn’t care much about me going to sleep at the time my parents had set for me. But she herself, exhausted, and possibly maybe even slightly drunk, had found rest on the couch, sitting next to me, while the television flickered with various colours, illuminating her skin, edging towards the moment a light bright enough would jerk her out of her sleep. Aunt Greta won that battle, and managed to keep her sleep. But not me, I was on the loosing side, and sleep had finally begun to tug at me.
I tried distracting myself my shaking my head, and then looking around the room. That’s when I made the grave mistake of looking at the front window next to the staircase in the living room.
Two eyes stared back at me, shining white with a touch of red in them. A demonic horned outline stood out, sinisterly grabbing hold of my gaze with the hellish stare it had locked me into.
I don’t remember the exact moment I let go, but my aunt was there to comfort me, calming me down, and the thing outside the window just stood still, flinching a little.
“It’s just a cat!” Aunt Greta said comfortingly, yet slightly irritated; shooing the horrid thing away by tapping the window lightly. It pounced through the window and out of my sight.
Innocent as that encounter had been all those years ago, it had instilled in me a heavy fear of cats and looking through windows in the dark of the night.
Yet tonight, I felt a different kind of heaviness. One that came with feelings of gloom and sadness. The story my mom told me about the skeletons was not a stranger to me. Yet, it was one story I could not find myself to bear. I felt like an idiot, asking to hear that story again. My mom had told it to me a few months back, and I felt the same melancholia back then. I felt that I had grown stronger within to be able to bare that dark tale again, yet, I had only found myself feeling bad about the skeletons. Even a tiny bit of guilt for keeping their suffering alive by asking that tale to be spoken again.
I had pretended to fall asleep in hopes of my mother leaving the story undone, and walking out alone, leaving me to face only my silly fear of the dark, and not this heavy air of sadness that had been left behind.
What was the point of that story? I asked myself. There was no moral attached, not a wholesome outcome. It was a story that tied an iron chain around my tiny eleven-year-old heart, and tossed it on the bottom of a river. I still feel the same way after all these years anyway.
And the way she would tell it, it made the whole experience even more depressing. So vivid, and indifferent her narration was, it was unsettling.
But thankfully, that night was not a snowy night. It was not even winter yet. The night was a rainy one.
There was no storm, not like I would have minded that anyway, but it was a calm, gentle rain with distant soothing rumble of thunder.
I closed my eyes to sleep through the gloom I felt, but the moment I did, images of skeletons building a tower of extracted skin and blood, and dancing to the moonlight filled the darkness.
I tried to think of other things, but the skeletons had already wrapped their body fingers all around my imagination.
I didn’t want to open my eyes and look around (and seeing risk the blinders on the window somehow opened), so I buried myself in the covers, and shut my eyes. My main concern was to just get to fall asleep somehow.
Slowly, I opened my eyes,
Just a tiny peek. Just a tiny peak and nothing would go wrong.
I looked out the covers, and scanned the room. The tiny line of light was gone. My mom had probably already gone to sleep.
My eyes then moved a slightly left, to the drawer, the pile of unread books on top of it, and then…. the window.
Nope!
I got of the covers, and ran to the door, all the while imagining eyes of that horrid thing in the window, I saw all those years ago following me.
I shut the door behind me, and decided to sneak to my parents’ room. I knew I wasn’t supposed to sneak out this way, my mom had a strict bedroom curfew at 9:00 p.m. for us kids. Of course, she would send us to bed earlier, but it was pretty clear she did not want us out of our rooms after nine.
But tonight, she had told me that story again, and hearing that led to a series of events that had led me to loose all of my bravery.
The rain did provide some comfort to me, calming and soft it was, I still dared not look at any windows of the hall.
Shielding half my field of vision by cupping my palm around my right eye, I went across the hall. The faint creaks of the wooden flooring making me painfully aware of my loneliness in the now dark hallway.
There was a corner up front, the left of which were some stairs leading down to the living room, and right of the corner, in a distance worth just a tiny few step was a turn, which led to the door to my parents’ bedroom, and the bathroom.
Now here, I stood still for a moment. I was trying to peak into the corner, and at the same time, trying to focus elsewhere.
If I wasn’t fast enough, something would come out of that corner, and grab me. There was so much darkness in that corner, it almost looked like a dark cloaked man sat there, concealing himself into that place with slow and even breaths.
The dark cloaked man breathed the light in and exhaled the dark. He was darkness itself. If I wasn’t quick enough, he would grab me with those long tendrils of his, and swallow me whole.
A rumble of thunder came, but not before a flash of lightning, lifting the veil of the dark from that corner, revealing… absolutely nothing. No cloaked men, no skeletons. But as soon as the light went away, I saw something there.
It was just for a tiny moment, but I swear I saw a big crawling mass of darkness. It was alive, and moving, with a thousand, or millions of appendeges, tendrils or even legs. Like a spider, or a squid, or some grotesque insect from the deep.
And when the thunder followed this time, it didn’t feel like the soothing, calming touch of my mother’s hands either; rather, it felt like a witch’s cackle, loud and hideous! Piercing through my soul and getting ever closer. A cackle from the depths of a throat with crawling maggots and rotting skin.
I bolted as fast as I can, almost tripping on my own feet, and somehow, I reached the room, and burst right through it. It was unlocked, and there I looked around in the dark, scanning frantically for my mother’s presence.
And there, standing in the dark, in front of the mirror stood someone. Hoping it was my mom, I tried to make out its features, but my heart was also infested with fear and I felt it clawing at my chest, pleading to be let out.
It was as tall as my mother, and was built like a woman. Yet…it was, naked. I could make the outline of bare, sagging breasts. Lighting struck again, this time bringing light to the entire room, and the thunder screamed a blood curdling scream as I saw the figure for what it was. The wrinkled, leathery and aged skin, along with a barren scalp. It’s lip, twisted and the jaws shut so closely, indicating a lack of teeth.
The naked old woman opened her mouth to say a few words, but I felt the world go dim around me, with a bright flash of light, before I was plunged into complete darkness.
Danny? Dan? Yeah…he’s opening his eyes…
The sound of my dad’s voice was the rope I pulled on to come out of my darkness, and I woke up with a jump.
My mother came up to the bed and wrapped her arms around me.
“I was so worried about you!” She said. “How are you feeling baby?”
Her arms around mine, I checked her for wrinkles, and suddenly feeling a bit stupid I turned a bit red.
My dad let out a laugh and punched me in the arm softly, and stood up, rubbing his bald head.
“I told you he’s a strong one. Aren’t you?”
I gave a hesitant nod.
My mother put her hands on my shoulders, sat back and looked me in the eye.
“Now, tell me what happened child. And tell me everything. It’s alright baby, mommy and daddy are here.”
I misliked the way she seemed to baby me, but I did not think to complain.
I looked at the window, the sun was rising up, and the sky seemed clear.
“Well I-“
I remembered what I saw the night before. The crawling mass of darkness, and the naked old lady.
It’s silly now that I think of it, but at that time, I was too embarrassed to tell my
parents that I saw a naked old woman, “NAKED” old woman in our house.
“I just had a bad dream… and I got scared.”
My mom stood up. Telling me words of comfort that were meaningless to me, and walked out, holding my sister’s hand and walking out the room downstairs.
“Dad.” I told my dad as he came down to sit next to me. “I think I want to sleep a bit.”
My dad nodded, “Do you want mom?” He asked me.
I refused and shut my eyes. I was too sleepy to care or think much.
I brushed the old lady off as a bad dream, and nothing more…during the day. At night, as much as I didn’t want to, I believed with all certainty that it was real. Our house was haunted by an old lady’s ghost. I had been sleepless the first few nights, even though I had mom next to me for three days. I kept a lookout at times, peeking out the sheets to see if the old lady had come back (making sure the blinds were shut first), but I didn’t see her.
A few weeks passed and I figured it was just a bad dream, and a year or two later, I pushed it in the rear end of my mind.
It was winter, and the first batch of snow had made its way to my hometown. Flecks of snow buried themselves in my hair, and their cousins and made their place on the ground, forming a white path home.
My sister and I usually walked home from school together. I usually was on my own while my sister talked to one of her friends, I didn’t really know any of them. She and I had never been close, and during school, we drifted apart even more.
She was in middle school, and she already knew what an enormous looser I was. I used to sneak out the school from the back, as to avoid Zackary Levitt and his “Henchmen”.
They never put a hand on me; and that’s how they got away with it. I felt ashamed, unable to stand up to them. Their words bit into me like rows of sharpened teeth.
The trouble began when a white cat had found itself in front of the school, and it got too close to me, and I cried because it kept hissing at me. A lot of people happened to see that. A lot.
Zachary rode past us in one of his friend’s car. I averted my eyes so as to not attract any attention, but the more I tried to look away, the surer my chances of being harassed were.
One of them poked their head out the window, making hissing sounds. That wasn’t so bad, but then I saw my sister and her friend turn back to look at me, and they chuckled a bit.
That hurt me even worse.
That encouraged them even more. They slowed the car a bit, now all of them started meowing and hissing at me while my sister and her friend looked straight ahead, probably trying to conceal their broad grins.
In my mind, I hid in a shell like a turtle, only hearing faint echoes of their taunts. Every time I got mad enough and yelled a few colourful words of my own, they pulled their fists, ready for a fight, and the scrawny, skinny kid I was, I thought it wiser to back away.
I never cried myself to sleep. I didn’t even think about it all that much to be honest. It had become such a normal occurrence; I didn’t feel much about it.
At nights, I stayed awake, staring up to the ceiling. The only source of light in the room was the tiny sliver that creeped in from outside, as my mom stayed up much later.
The blinds as usual, had to remain shut. My fear of cats and windows were the only two things I carried, other than my shame and constant feeling of emptiness. I didn’t care I didn’t have many friends, nor did I care much about school or anything… what I cared about was, seeing through this gloomy fog that surrounded me.
Knock
The sound of my door creaking open made me sit up.
“Happy birthday to you!” My mom sang, holding up a metal tray.
My sister and my dad followed behind, turning the lights on and mom sat in front of me on the bed, placing a tiny chocolate cupcake with a skinny red candle on it, right next to me.
I looked at the clock, it had struck 12.
I put on a smile, and accepted mom’s embrace. I still remember it vividly. She wore no perfume, yet she had a soothing motherly scent to her. Her arms were skinny, and yet she had a firm hold of me. The fabric of her sleeves felt slightly rough on my neck but I didn’t care.
She planted a kiss on my cheek.
“You’re a man now son!” My dad said. He still wore his uniform. He probably got the cake while patrolling, and he would probably have to go back to patrolling after this.
“Eighteen years!” Mom said smiling, “I can’t believe I’m that old now!” She laughed a bit, “Ellen, wish your brother!”
Ellen came to me, giving a forced, loose hug and wishing me awkwardly and moving next to mom.
“You know the rules…. You get the big cake tomorrow… and the gifts too.” Mom said.
“Well…” Dad cut in, adding to this playful act they put up, “Maybe except this.”
My dad handed me a white, unmarked box.
“Open it!” He said with a grin.
A lamp. A lamp that gave off a blue light. Nice.
“Well it isn’t much, but like your mom said, you get the real gifts tomorrow. We have to keep it exciting you know…” My dad gave me a wink. “But…I figured you’d probably have more use of this thing tonight.”
I thanked all of them, and they eventually departed for the night.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I was trying to get myself excited for tomorrow, but I felt nothing but emptiness. I felt like the best of my life had been over sometimes, and tonight was one of those times.
I flicked the light on, giving the room a blue tint, and creating a million shadows with the dim nightlight. And then turned it off, sending the room back into the darkness. It was better this way. The shadows formed strange shapes that I didn’t not want to see. Yet my thumb decided to flick the switch, creating an army of shadows in the room once more. And so, it went for a long while.
Tomorrow was Sunday, so I could stay up a bit later. My own room had begun to make me uncomfortable, so I decided to go downstairs and watch some T.V. Lamp in hand, I left the room.
I walked straight to the hall. The window tapped slightly as tiny snowflakes touched it on their way down, and yet, I could not bring myself to look that way. Like I said, the fear was one of the things I carried with me.
The bathroom lights were on, my mom was in there, her bedroom door was wide open. She sang a soft tune in the bathroom, and it just confirmed her presence in there. I would never forget that tune. It sounded like something old and gloomy. It provoked strange imagery in my mind, but only vague shapes that I couldn’t place. Coupled with the winter winds outside, it would form almost a haunting scenery.
The dark corner was still there, the light from the closed bathroom had not reached far enough. I was peeking at me, threating to show me horrid things in itself. Thankfully, I had the lamp in my hand for that. The light my mom and dad had given me, and I flicked it on, sending all terrible entities in the dark fleeing away and leaving behind an innocent corner.
I went down the stairs and to the living room, and watched 10 minutes of mindless television and my eyes began to get drowsy. Turning it off, I went back upstairs, readying myself for the sweet hold of a restful sleep.
I took the final step, looking down to flick the light on to scare the darkness in the corner away, and when I did, the blue light fell on the aged and wrinkled skin of a naked old woman.
I froze in fear. The light held still in my hands. The woman walked, straight past my parents’ bedroom, which was still wide open and in complete darkness, and to the bathroom.
I hear no singing from my mother, no sounds at all except the splashing of water. I stood there frozen. Blue light my only company, while that thing went inside with my mother.
The splashing grew intense, and yet, all I could do was stand still, my eyes wide open and my jaws clung tightly together. I was afraid. But, so afraid, I didn’t feel it. I became it. My body had forgotten it’s own self, and decided to accept whatever horrid end it awaited.
Splish. Splash.
I pictured nothing. It was just the of splashing water to me, nothing more. But I knew there was something far more sinister at hand. I awaited my consciousness to leave, and go far away from me, and yet, it stayed with me, holding my head firmly and making me experience the dreadful reality.
The light of the corner eventually faded, and I remember watching my dad banging at the bathroom door, while my sister stood crying in the corner. My dad yelled too but they were distant, and faint to me. I was trapped within my own shell of fear.
My dad kicked the door down, and there we found her. She lay still in the bathtub, now just a sack of pruned meat and not the person I remember as mom. Just flesh and bones. Flesh….and bones…
And then I realised the irony of it, and it seemed morbidly funny and I let out a slight chuckle. My lips quivered, not knowing whether to laugh or to mourn. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I fell on the floor, my throat threatening to tear as I cycled between crying and laughing, and crying and laughing and then … just weeping.
Mom was dead. And it was my fault as well. I should’ve entered. I could’ve helped her. If it wasn’t for my stupid fucking fears.
I ate my birthday cake while my dad spoke to other officers who’d come during the morning hours. His eyes had been bloodshot read, and it seemed like he was done crying, yet, he sat, putting on a strong face.
My dad helped me dress up for the funeral, I was in shock since her passing, and I barely spoke or got anywhere on my own.
On our way, watching the snowy winter land that our hometown was now transformed to, I remembered the old lady. I hadn’t told anyone about that. How could I? It had been just a nightmare, right? And even if it wasn’t, was I to tell them that I let a ghost drown my mother in a bathtub, even though the cause had been as an accident?
I embraced myself, the funeral was going to be hard on me, but I had to face it.
After walking through the few early arrivals, my grandparents and some uncles (all from my father’s side), I stood next to my dad, but my sister wanted to have some time alone with mother, so dad let her go first, silently patting her on the shoulder.
I stood next to him, hearing him talk in whispers as I saw down to the ground. I looked at the entrance of the church, turning my head away from the grim atmosphere, and there, I saw the outline of a person, a woman. I tried to make out which aunt or neighbour she was, but then she just walked out in a hurry.
I chalked it up to an honest mistake, and began to turn back, just when I heard my sister scream. I froze up for a moment, but I decided to fight through this time, following after my dad and his elder brother as they ran into the room.
My uncle reached first, and I slowed my pace seeing she was okay, he knelt down to my sister and exchanging a few words, before she pointed to my mother’s casket. He stood up abruptly as he saw within and shielded my sister’s eyes as well.
My dad looked into it, and gasped, covering his mouth with his roughened hands, and turned away.
My stomach began to drop, as I got closer, expecting the worst. I looked within.
She was completely naked. The dark gown she was supposed to be clad in was gone. A large cut had been made in her back, and blood, it was clean and dry. Mom no longer even looked like mom. I came to a horrible realisation, as the contents of my stomach began to rise up to my throat.
All that was left of her, was flesh and blood.
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2020.10.18 17:46 cleanyourbedroomboy Mom dance naked

“Once upon a time, in a cold, dark land, there was a king who lived on tall mountains of ice. A king without a castle, who sat on a throne of blood and skin; from the top of his mountain, he watched over his kingdom of skeletons; roaring loudly for his subject skeletons on the arrival of winter, cautioning them of the impending icy winds.”
“The skeleton kingdom was home to all kinds of skeletons. Tall skeletons, short skeletons, fat skeletons and thin skeletons, old skeletons and younger, fresher skeletons.”
“When they were old enough, a skeleton started to grow skin, or had blood flowing through its body. Every time that happened, they would go to the king, and bow in front of him”
““My lord of flesh and blood” A skeleton would say, “Here I give to you a humble offering, so you may make it one with your throne.” And with that, the skeleton would offer the king all the flesh and blood it had, and the king would find a place of it on his throne.”
“Every day, offers were made, and the throne grew bigger and bigger, taller and taller, fatter and fatter, and the king went up higher and higher.”
“More and more skeletons would come in every day and every night, and they would keep giving more and more flesh and blood to the king’s chair.”
“The king’s throne eventually grew so tall; his voice became faint, and soft to the ones who stood below. But the skeletons did not stop; like obedient subjects, they making their humble contributions to the throne.”
“Every day they added.”
“And every night they added.”
““My lord I come to offer you more of my own flesh and blood, and I hope my humble gives more strength to your throne.”, and in reply, they heard just a distant mumble from high up.”
“The throne eventually went so up high, the throne became a living tower, covered in flesh, with veins of blood flowing through it. If you were still enough, a faint heartbeat could be heard from within the tower.”
“The tower went so high up, the skeletons believed that it might have pierced through the skies.”
“One day, a skeleton bowed in front of the tower. Fresh blood dripping from his bony white hands, and a handful of extracted flesh tied neatly with ropes on his back. After his words of offering, he stood up, waiting for the king’s reply. And he waited, and waited. Not a sound. He said his words a second time. He was yet again, met with silence.”
“And then he looked up, to the vast throne he and his fellow skeletons had built, and on top of it…he froze. He could not locate the top.”
“He felt like a sailor on a boat, trapped in the still, windless of the ocean of time. A few moments felt like ages in this uncertain stillness he found himself in. And then, like a gentle breeze of hopeful wind, his skull was kissed by the dropping snow.”
“He waited for the king’s roar, knowing full well that it may never come. The king was lost in the skies.”
“The skeletons rejoiced that day. They had finally gotten themselves rid of the fleshed king that ruled over this land of bones. They had found freedom,”
“The skeletons sang all day. And they sang all night. They danced till their bones came apart, and fell on the icy terrain below; but they put it back together and danced some more.”
“They sang wildly while the moon watched silently. They continued their songs even when the moon had hidden under the blankets of a sunless winter day.”
“And as time went on, the skeletons had found themselves used to this life without a leader, and lived life free and happy.”
“Eventually, their skins began to grow back, and blood began to flow into their veins.”
“The snowfall never stopped. And the winds grew ever colder. And with the growth of their skins, the cold finally touched them. But the cold was not so gentle. It was a fierce, with icy teeth, aimed on their skins. Wanting to bite through their skins, and freeze their blood. And bite it did.”
“The skeletons had never felt the cold before. They had no understanding of it. But with the growth of their skins, they felt the harsh cold for the first time. And with this new agony, they had to live.”
“The old ones died first. And then the youngest ones found themselves frozen in the cold.”
“The skeletons fought against each other, accusing each other of being at fault for this unescapable cold of the harsh winter. And with that, eventually the skeleton kingdom found itself buried in the snow.”
“The few that lived now, found themselves slaves to the ice. By this time, they could not find a way to rid themselves of their skins either. The flesh had found roots in their bones now, and were an eternal part of them.”
“Every summer they lived in peace, but that was only before. Now, with summers, they found themselves preparing themselves for the winter, and with the winters, they prayed for the summer’s return.”
“They had tried to get their king back, readying themselves for heavy and heartfelt words of apologies, and for the punishment that might follow. Yet, the living tower had been darkened and withered by the icy winds of winter, and they king lay trapped on this tower of rot.”
“And so, with heavy hearts, the skeletons finally accepted their fate of agony and hardship, and are now subjects of the winter.”
My mother stood up straight, looking down on me as she smiled warmly, thinking I had fallen into a deep slumber, as she cautiously paced in a gentle manner to the door, and gently shut it, leaving only a tiny sliver of light seeping into my room.
Sleep hadn’t taken me yet, and I opened my eyes, to the dark room. The tiny amount of light that the door allowed in formed a line on the font wall of the room, vertically reaching from the top of the window to the floor.
I had made sure the windows had been kept covered by the blinders as tight as possible, so that I couldn’t accidentally find myself looking out of it. Or anything accidentally looking in.
I shivered at the thought.
When I was seven years old, my mother had been in the hospital, giving birth to my sister, and I had been staying with my aunt Greta at the time. I had been watching T.V. late at night; Aunt Greta didn’t care much about me going to sleep at the time my parents had set for me. But she herself, exhausted, and possibly maybe even slightly drunk, had found rest on the couch, sitting next to me, while the television flickered with various colours, illuminating her skin, edging towards the moment a light bright enough would jerk her out of her sleep. Aunt Greta won that battle, and managed to keep her sleep. But not me, I was on the loosing side, and sleep had finally begun to tug at me.
I tried distracting myself my shaking my head, and then looking around the room. That’s when I made the grave mistake of looking at the front window next to the staircase in the living room.
Two eyes stared back at me, shining white with a touch of red in them. A demonic horned outline stood out, sinisterly grabbing hold of my gaze with the hellish stare it had locked me into.
I don’t remember the exact moment I let go, but my aunt was there to comfort me, calming me down, and the thing outside the window just stood still, flinching a little.
“It’s just a cat!” Aunt Greta said comfortingly, yet slightly irritated; shooing the horrid thing away by tapping the window lightly. It pounced through the window and out of my sight.
Innocent as that encounter had been all those years ago, it had instilled in me a heavy fear of cats and looking through windows in the dark of the night.
Yet tonight, I felt a different kind of heaviness. One that came with feelings of gloom and sadness. The story my mom told me about the skeletons was not a stranger to me. Yet, it was one story I could not find myself to bear. I felt like an idiot, asking to hear that story again. My mom had told it to me a few months back, and I felt the same melancholia back then. I felt that I had grown stronger within to be able to bare that dark tale again, yet, I had only found myself feeling bad about the skeletons. Even a tiny bit of guilt for keeping their suffering alive by asking that tale to be spoken again.
I had pretended to fall asleep in hopes of my mother leaving the story undone, and walking out alone, leaving me to face only my silly fear of the dark, and not this heavy air of sadness that had been left behind.
What was the point of that story? I asked myself. There was no moral attached, not a wholesome outcome. It was a story that tied an iron chain around my tiny eleven-year-old heart, and tossed it on the bottom of a river. I still feel the same way after all these years anyway.
And the way she would tell it, it made the whole experience even more depressing. So vivid, and indifferent her narration was, it was unsettling.
But thankfully, that night was not a snowy night. It was not even winter yet. The night was a rainy one.
There was no storm, not like I would have minded that anyway, but it was a calm, gentle rain with distant soothing rumble of thunder.
I closed my eyes to sleep through the gloom I felt, but the moment I did, images of skeletons building a tower of extracted skin and blood, and dancing to the moonlight filled the darkness.
I tried to think of other things, but the skeletons had already wrapped their body fingers all around my imagination.
I didn’t want to open my eyes and look around (and seeing risk the blinders on the window somehow opened), so I buried myself in the covers, and shut my eyes. My main concern was to just get to fall asleep somehow.
Slowly, I opened my eyes,
Just a tiny peek. Just a tiny peak and nothing would go wrong.
I looked out the covers, and scanned the room. The tiny line of light was gone. My mom had probably already gone to sleep.
My eyes then moved a slightly left, to the drawer, the pile of unread books on top of it, and then…. the window.
Nope!
I got of the covers, and ran to the door, all the while imagining eyes of that horrid thing in the window, I saw all those years ago following me.
I shut the door behind me, and decided to sneak to my parents’ room. I knew I wasn’t supposed to sneak out this way, my mom had a strict bedroom curfew at 9:00 p.m. for us kids. Of course, she would send us to bed earlier, but it was pretty clear she did not want us out of our rooms after nine.
But tonight, she had told me that story again, and hearing that led to a series of events that had led me to loose all of my bravery.
The rain did provide some comfort to me, calming and soft it was, I still dared not look at any windows of the hall.
Shielding half my field of vision by cupping my palm around my right eye, I went across the hall. The faint creaks of the wooden flooring making me painfully aware of my loneliness in the now dark hallway.
There was a corner up front, the left of which were some stairs leading down to the living room, and right of the corner, in a distance worth just a tiny few step was a turn, which led to the door to my parents’ bedroom, and the bathroom.
Now here, I stood still for a moment. I was trying to peak into the corner, and at the same time, trying to focus elsewhere.
If I wasn’t fast enough, something would come out of that corner, and grab me. There was so much darkness in that corner, it almost looked like a dark cloaked man sat there, concealing himself into that place with slow and even breaths.
The dark cloaked man breathed the light in and exhaled the dark. He was darkness itself. If I wasn’t quick enough, he would grab me with those long tendrils of his, and swallow me whole.
A rumble of thunder came, but not before a flash of lightning, lifting the veil of the dark from that corner, revealing… absolutely nothing. No cloaked men, no skeletons. But as soon as the light went away, I saw something there.
It was just for a tiny moment, but I swear I saw a big crawling mass of darkness. It was alive, and moving, with a thousand, or millions of appendeges, tendrils or even legs. Like a spider, or a squid, or some grotesque insect from the deep.
And when the thunder followed this time, it didn’t feel like the soothing, calming touch of my mother’s hands either; rather, it felt like a witch’s cackle, loud and hideous! Piercing through my soul and getting ever closer. A cackle from the depths of a throat with crawling maggots and rotting skin.
I bolted as fast as I can, almost tripping on my own feet, and somehow, I reached the room, and burst right through it. It was unlocked, and there I looked around in the dark, scanning frantically for my mother’s presence.
And there, standing in the dark, in front of the mirror stood someone. Hoping it was my mom, I tried to make out its features, but my heart was also infested with fear and I felt it clawing at my chest, pleading to be let out.
It was as tall as my mother, and was built like a woman. Yet…it was, naked. I could make the outline of bare, sagging breasts. Lighting struck again, this time bringing light to the entire room, and the thunder screamed a blood curdling scream as I saw the figure for what it was. The wrinkled, leathery and aged skin, along with a barren scalp. It’s lip, twisted and the jaws shut so closely, indicating a lack of teeth.
The naked old woman opened her mouth to say a few words, but I felt the world go dim around me, with a bright flash of light, before I was plunged into complete darkness.
Danny? Dan? Yeah…he’s opening his eyes…
The sound of my dad’s voice was the rope I pulled on to come out of my darkness, and I woke up with a jump.
My mother came up to the bed and wrapped her arms around me.
“I was so worried about you!” She said. “How are you feeling baby?”
Her arms around mine, I checked her for wrinkles, and suddenly feeling a bit stupid I turned a bit red.
My dad let out a laugh and punched me in the arm softly, and stood up, rubbing his bald head.
“I told you he’s a strong one. Aren’t you?”
I gave a hesitant nod.
My mother put her hands on my shoulders, sat back and looked me in the eye.
“Now, tell me what happened child. And tell me everything. It’s alright baby, mommy and daddy are here.”
I misliked the way she seemed to baby me, but I did not think to complain.
I looked at the window, the sun was rising up, and the sky seemed clear.
“Well I-“
I remembered what I saw the night before. The crawling mass of darkness, and the naked old lady.
It’s silly now that I think of it, but at that time, I was too embarrassed to tell my
parents that I saw a naked old woman, “NAKED” old woman in our house.
“I just had a bad dream… and I got scared.”
My mom stood up. Telling me words of comfort that were meaningless to me, and walked out, holding my sister’s hand and walking out the room downstairs.
“Dad.” I told my dad as he came down to sit next to me. “I think I want to sleep a bit.”
My dad nodded, “Do you want mom?” He asked me.
I refused and shut my eyes. I was too sleepy to care or think much.
I brushed the old lady off as a bad dream, and nothing more…during the day. At night, as much as I didn’t want to, I believed with all certainty that it was real. Our house was haunted by an old lady’s ghost. I had been sleepless the first few nights, even though I had mom next to me for three days. I kept a lookout at times, peeking out the sheets to see if the old lady had come back (making sure the blinds were shut first), but I didn’t see her.
A few weeks passed and I figured it was just a bad dream, and a year or two later, I pushed it in the rear end of my mind.
It was winter, and the first batch of snow had made its way to my hometown. Flecks of snow buried themselves in my hair, and their cousins and made their place on the ground, forming a white path home.
My sister and I usually walked home from school together. I usually was on my own while my sister talked to one of her friends, I didn’t really know any of them. She and I had never been close, and during school, we drifted apart even more.
She was in middle school, and she already knew what an enormous looser I was. I used to sneak out the school from the back, as to avoid Zackary Levitt and his “Henchmen”.
They never put a hand on me; and that’s how they got away with it. I felt ashamed, unable to stand up to them. Their words bit into me like rows of sharpened teeth.
The trouble began when a white cat had found itself in front of the school, and it got too close to me, and I cried because it kept hissing at me. A lot of people happened to see that. A lot.
Zachary rode past us in one of his friend’s car. I averted my eyes so as to not attract any attention, but the more I tried to look away, the surer my chances of being harassed were.
One of them poked their head out the window, making hissing sounds. That wasn’t so bad, but then I saw my sister and her friend turn back to look at me, and they chuckled a bit.
That hurt me even worse.
That encouraged them even more. They slowed the car a bit, now all of them started meowing and hissing at me while my sister and her friend looked straight ahead, probably trying to conceal their broad grins.
In my mind, I hid in a shell like a turtle, only hearing faint echoes of their taunts. Every time I got mad enough and yelled a few colourful words of my own, they pulled their fists, ready for a fight, and the scrawny, skinny kid I was, I thought it wiser to back away.
I never cried myself to sleep. I didn’t even think about it all that much to be honest. It had become such a normal occurrence; I didn’t feel much about it.
At nights, I stayed awake, staring up to the ceiling. The only source of light in the room was the tiny sliver that creeped in from outside, as my mom stayed up much later.
The blinds as usual, had to remain shut. My fear of cats and windows were the only two things I carried, other than my shame and constant feeling of emptiness. I didn’t care I didn’t have many friends, nor did I care much about school or anything… what I cared about was, seeing through this gloomy fog that surrounded me.
Knock
The sound of my door creaking open made me sit up.
“Happy birthday to you!” My mom sang, holding up a metal tray.
My sister and my dad followed behind, turning the lights on and mom sat in front of me on the bed, placing a tiny chocolate cupcake with a skinny red candle on it, right next to me.
I looked at the clock, it had struck 12.
I put on a smile, and accepted mom’s embrace. I still remember it vividly. She wore no perfume, yet she had a soothing motherly scent to her. Her arms were skinny, and yet she had a firm hold of me. The fabric of her sleeves felt slightly rough on my neck but I didn’t care.
She planted a kiss on my cheek.
“You’re a man now son!” My dad said. He still wore his uniform. He probably got the cake while patrolling, and he would probably have to go back to patrolling after this.
“Eighteen years!” Mom said smiling, “I can’t believe I’m that old now!” She laughed a bit, “Ellen, wish your brother!”
Ellen came to me, giving a forced, loose hug and wishing me awkwardly and moving next to mom.
“You know the rules…. You get the big cake tomorrow… and the gifts too.” Mom said.
“Well…” Dad cut in, adding to this playful act they put up, “Maybe except this.”
My dad handed me a white, unmarked box.
“Open it!” He said with a grin.
A lamp. A lamp that gave off a blue light. Nice.
“Well it isn’t much, but like your mom said, you get the real gifts tomorrow. We have to keep it exciting you know…” My dad gave me a wink. “But…I figured you’d probably have more use of this thing tonight.”
I thanked all of them, and they eventually departed for the night.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I was trying to get myself excited for tomorrow, but I felt nothing but emptiness. I felt like the best of my life had been over sometimes, and tonight was one of those times.
I flicked the light on, giving the room a blue tint, and creating a million shadows with the dim nightlight. And then turned it off, sending the room back into the darkness. It was better this way. The shadows formed strange shapes that I didn’t not want to see. Yet my thumb decided to flick the switch, creating an army of shadows in the room once more. And so, it went for a long while.
Tomorrow was Sunday, so I could stay up a bit later. My own room had begun to make me uncomfortable, so I decided to go downstairs and watch some T.V. Lamp in hand, I left the room.
I walked straight to the hall. The window tapped slightly as tiny snowflakes touched it on their way down, and yet, I could not bring myself to look that way. Like I said, the fear was one of the things I carried with me.
The bathroom lights were on, my mom was in there, her bedroom door was wide open. She sang a soft tune in the bathroom, and it just confirmed her presence in there. I would never forget that tune. It sounded like something old and gloomy. It provoked strange imagery in my mind, but only vague shapes that I couldn’t place. Coupled with the winter winds outside, it would form almost a haunting scenery.
The dark corner was still there, the light from the closed bathroom had not reached far enough. I was peeking at me, threating to show me horrid things in itself. Thankfully, I had the lamp in my hand for that. The light my mom and dad had given me, and I flicked it on, sending all terrible entities in the dark fleeing away and leaving behind an innocent corner.
I went down the stairs and to the living room, and watched 10 minutes of mindless television and my eyes began to get drowsy. Turning it off, I went back upstairs, readying myself for the sweet hold of a restful sleep.
I took the final step, looking down to flick the light on to scare the darkness in the corner away, and when I did, the blue light fell on the aged and wrinkled skin of a naked old woman.
I froze in fear. The light held still in my hands. The woman walked, straight past my parents’ bedroom, which was still wide open and in complete darkness, and to the bathroom.
I hear no singing from my mother, no sounds at all except the splashing of water. I stood there frozen. Blue light my only company, while that thing went inside with my mother.
The splashing grew intense, and yet, all I could do was stand still, my eyes wide open and my jaws clung tightly together. I was afraid. But, so afraid, I didn’t feel it. I became it. My body had forgotten it’s own self, and decided to accept whatever horrid end it awaited.
Splish. Splash.
I pictured nothing. It was just the of splashing water to me, nothing more. But I knew there was something far more sinister at hand. I awaited my consciousness to leave, and go far away from me, and yet, it stayed with me, holding my head firmly and making me experience the dreadful reality.
The light of the corner eventually faded, and I remember watching my dad banging at the bathroom door, while my sister stood crying in the corner. My dad yelled too but they were distant, and faint to me. I was trapped within my own shell of fear.
My dad kicked the door down, and there we found her. She lay still in the bathtub, now just a sack of pruned meat and not the person I remember as mom. Just flesh and bones. Flesh….and bones…
And then I realised the irony of it, and it seemed morbidly funny and I let out a slight chuckle. My lips quivered, not knowing whether to laugh or to mourn. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I fell on the floor, my throat threatening to tear as I cycled between crying and laughing, and crying and laughing and then … just weeping.
Mom was dead. And it was my fault as well. I should’ve entered. I could’ve helped her. If it wasn’t for my stupid fucking fears.
I ate my birthday cake while my dad spoke to other officers who’d come during the morning hours. His eyes had been bloodshot read, and it seemed like he was done crying, yet, he sat, putting on a strong face.
My dad helped me dress up for the funeral, I was in shock since her passing, and I barely spoke or got anywhere on my own.
On our way, watching the snowy winter land that our hometown was now transformed to, I remembered the old lady. I hadn’t told anyone about that. How could I? It had been just a nightmare, right? And even if it wasn’t, was I to tell them that I let a ghost drown my mother in a bathtub, even though the cause had been as an accident?
I embraced myself, the funeral was going to be hard on me, but I had to face it.
After walking through the few early arrivals, my grandparents and some uncles (all from my father’s side), I stood next to my dad, but my sister wanted to have some time alone with mother, so dad let her go first, silently patting her on the shoulder.
I stood next to him, hearing him talk in whispers as I saw down to the ground. I looked at the entrance of the church, turning my head away from the grim atmosphere, and there, I saw the outline of a person, a woman. I tried to make out which aunt or neighbour she was, but then she just walked out in a hurry.
I chalked it up to an honest mistake, and began to turn back, just when I heard my sister scream. I froze up for a moment, but I decided to fight through this time, following after my dad and his elder brother as they ran into the room.
My uncle reached first, and I slowed my pace seeing she was okay, he knelt down to my sister and exchanging a few words, before she pointed to my mother’s casket. He stood up abruptly as he saw within and shielded my sister’s eyes as well.
My dad looked into it, and gasped, covering his mouth with his roughened hands, and turned away.
My stomach began to drop, as I got closer, expecting the worst. I looked within.
She was completely naked. The dark gown she was supposed to be clad in was gone. A large cut had been made in her back, and blood, it was clean and dry. Mom no longer even looked like mom. I came to a horrible realisation, as the contents of my stomach began to rise up to my throat.
All that was left of her, was flesh and blood.
submitted by cleanyourbedroomboy to TheDarkGathering [link] [comments]


2020.10.18 17:25 creature_fear12 Dance mom naked

Need to clear out some space so I've got the following MASSIVE list of titles available for sale today. Pick ANY 5 titles from below for $20 shipped (US only) - LPs are a combination of original US presses, early reissues and the occasional foreign press - no modern reissues here. Payments through PayPal only please. All items ship via USPS media mail with tracking.
All items grade at VG/VG or better unless otherwise noted
Here's the list!
Rock/Pop/Etc.
America - Holiday
Angel - On Earth As It Is In Heaven
Adam Ant - Strip
April Wine - The Nature Of The Beast
April Wine - First Glance
Joan Armatrading - S/T
Bachman-Turner Overdrive - S/T
Bad Company - Run With The Pack
John Baldry - It Ain't Easy
Bangles ‎– All Over The Place
Bangles - Bangles
Bangles - Everything
The Beatles - Sgt. Peppers (Cover ONLY; Original US stereo cover)
The Beatles - Let It Be (Cover ONLY)
Jeff Beck With The Jan Hammer Group - Live
Pat Benetar - Precious Time
Pat Benetar - Tropico
Pat Benetar - Seven The Hard Way
Pat Benetar - Crimes Of Passion
Pat Benetar - In The Heat Of The Night
Billion Dollar Babies - Battle Axe
Blood, Sweat & Tears - 3
Bloomfield/KoopeStills - Super Session
Tommy Bolin - Teaser
Jackson Browne - Hold Out
Jackson Browne - Lawyers In Love
Roy Buchanan - You're Not Alone
Jimmy Buffett - Volcano
The Jon Butcher Axis - Along The Axis
The Byrds - Greatest Hits
The Call - Reconciled
The Call ‎– Into The Woods
Cheap Trick - Standing On The Edge
Cher - S/T 2LP
Chicago - Chicago
Chicago - VI
Eric Clapton - S/T
The Dave Clark Five - Weekend In London
The Dave Clark Five - Best Of
Climax Blues Band - FM/Live
Climax Blues Band - Lucky For Some
Climax Blues Band - Gold Plated
Cold Blood - Sisyphus
Cold Blood - Cold Blood (Vinyl VG-)
Cold Blood - Thriller (Cover VG-)
Cold Blood - First Taste Of Sin
Judy Collins - Recollections
Chi Coltrane ‎– Chi Coltrane
Ry Cooder - Into The Purple Valley
Ry Cooder - The Border
Ry Cooder - Bop Till You Drop
Country Joe And The Fish - Together
Country Joe And The Fish - I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-To-Die
Crosby, Stills & Nash - CSN
Jackie DeShannon ‎– Laurel Canyon
Neil Diamond - Touching You Touching Me
Thomas Dolby - The Golden Age Of Wireless
Doll By Doll ‎– Gypsy Blood
The Doobie Brothers - Stampede
Ian Dury & The Blockheads - Laughter
John Entwistle - Whistle Rhymes
John Entwistle's Ox - Mad Dog
John Entwistle's Rigor Mortis Sets In - S/T
Marianne Faithfull ‎– Marianne Faithfull
Fanny - Rock n Roll Survivors
The Fixx - Walkabout
The Fixx - Phantoms
Flash And The Pan - Headlines
Foghat - Night Shift
Foghat - Energized
Frank Chickens ‎– We Are Frank Chickens
Art Garfunkel - Watermark
Art Garfunkel - Angel Clare
Art Garfunkel - Fate For Breakfast
Judy Garland ‎– Judy Garland
Geils - Monkey Island
Godley & Creme - The Histroy Mix Volume 1
The Barry Goldberg Reunion - S/T
Grand Funk Railroad - Survival
Grand Funk Railroad - Shinin' On
Grand Funk Railroad - Live Album
Grand Funk Railroad - Caught In The Act
El Grupo Sexo - Mom's Home
Debbie Harry - KooKoo
Heart - Magazine
Heart - Bebe Le Strange
Honk ‎– The Original Sound Track from Five Summer Stories
Hot Tuna - Burgers
Hot Tuna - Yellow Fever
Humble Pie - Smokin'
The Indigo Girls - Strange Fire
It's A Beautiful Day ‎– Choice Quality Stuff / Anytime
Jan & Dean - Anthology Album
Jan & Dean - Golden Hits
Jefferson Airplane - Volunteers
Jefferson Airplane - Crown Of Creation
Jefferson Airplane - Bless Its Pointed Little Head
Jefferson Starship/Paul Kantner - Blows Against The Empire
Jefferson Starship - Dragon Fly
Jefferson Starship - Spitfire
Jefferson Starship - Red Octopus
Jethro Tull - Bursting Out - Live
Jethro Tull - A Passion Play
Joan Jett & The Blackhearts - Fake Friends 12"
Jo Jo Gunne - S/T
Jo Jo Gunne - Jumpin' The Gunne
Jo Jo Gunne - Bite Down Hard
Howard Jones - Dream Into Action
Howard Jones - One To One
Rickie Lee Jones - Pirates
Rickie Lee Jones ‎– Rickie Lee Jones
Rickie Lee Jones - Flying Cowboys
Rickie Lee Jones - Girl At Her Volcano
Jorma Kaukonen & Vital Parts - Barbeque King
Carole King - Welcome Home
Carole King - One To One
The Kinks - State Of Confusion
Lone Justice - Lone Justice
Lone Justice - Shelter
The Lovin' Spoonful - Hums Of The Lovin' Spoonful
The Mama's And The Papa's - Deliver
Manfred Mann's Earth Band - Get Your Rocks Off
Manfred Mann's Earth Band - S/T
Manfred Mann's Earth Band - Angel Station
Dave Mason - Let It Flow
Paul McCartney - Ram
Don McClean - Homeless Brother
Michael McDonald - If That's What It Takes
Christine McVie ‎– The Legendary Christine Perfect Album
Lee Michaels - S/T
Lee Michaels ‎– Barrel
The Steve Miller Band - Brave New World
Steve Miller Band - Number 5
Steve Miller Band - Your Saving Grace
Missing Persons - Rhyme & Reason
Joni Mitchell - Miles Of Aisles
Joni Mitchell - Shadows And Light
Molly Hatchet - Flirtin' With Disaster
Montrose - Warner Bros Presents
Gary Moore - Corridors Of Power
The Motels - Little Robbers
Mott The Hoople - Mott
Mr. Mister - Welcome To The Real World
Elliot Murphy - Aquashow
Graham Nash - Wild Tales
Randy Newman - Sail Away
Laura Nyro ‎– Nested
Laura Nyro - The First Songs
Ted Nugent - Weekend Warriors
Ric Ocasek - Beatitude
Roy Orbison - More Greatest Hits
Robert Palmer - Secrets
Robert Palmer - Sneakin' Sally Through The Alley
Peter And Gordon - The Best Of
The Pirates - Out Of Their Skulls
Grace Pool - S/T
The Pretenders - Pretenders
The Pretenders - Extended Play
Suzi Quatro - Suzi... And Other Four Letter Words
Quicksilver Messenger Service - Shady Grove
Rainbow - Jealous Lover EP
Gerry Rafferty - Can I Have My Money Back?
Gerry Rafferty - North And South
Rare Earth - One World
R.E.M. - Fall On Me 12”
The Rolling Stones - Love You Live
The Rolling Stones - Let It Bleed (Cover ONLY)
Romeo Void ‎– Benefactor
Romeo Void ‎– Never Say Never
Todd Rundgren - Todd (G+)
Todd Rundgren - Back To The Bars
Todd Rundgren - A Capella
Todd Rundgren’s Utopia - Another Live
Todd Rundgren's Utopia - Ra
Bobby Rydell ‎– We Got Love
Mitch Ryder - Naked But Not Dead
Santana - S/T
Savoy Brown - A Step Further
Boz Scaggs - Down Two Then Left
Boz Scaggs - The Boz Scaggs Sampler
Seatrain - S/T
Carly Simon - S/T
Simon & Garfunkel - Greatest Hits
Paul Simon - Hearts And Bones
Siren ‎– All Is Forgiven
Grace Slick And Paul Kantner - Sunfighter
Split Enz - Time And Tide
Split Enz - Waiata
Spooky Tooth/Pierre Henry - Ceremony
Steppenwolf - Early Steppenwolf
Steppenwolf - Monster
Cat Stevens - Back To Earth
Cat Stevens - Foreigner
Cat Stevens - Izitso
Cat Stevens - Catch Bull At Four
Cat Stevens ‎– Footsteps In The Dark - Greatest Hits Volume Two
Rod Stewart - Blondes Have More Fun
Rod Stewart - Foot Loose & Fancy Free
Rod Stewart - A Night On The Town
Rod Stewart - Every Picture Tells A Story
Al Stewart - Year Of The Cat
Sting ‎– The Dream Of The Blue Turtles
Stoneground - Stoneground
James Taylor - Mud Slide Slim
James Taylor - Never Die Young
James Taylor - Dad Loves His Work
Mick Taylor - S/T
Ten Years After ‎– Watt
Thompson Twins - Into The Gap
George Thorogood And The Destroyers - Maverick
Three Dog Night - Naturally
Pete Townshend - Who Came First
Pete Townshend - Deep End Live!
Pete Townshend-Ronnie Lane - Rough Mix
Traffic - Welcome To The Canteen
Robin Trower - Bridge Of Sighs
Robin Trower - For Earth Below
The Tubes - What Do You Want From Live
The Tubes - Outside Inside
The Turtles - Turtle Soup
The Turtles - More Golden Hits
Tommy Tutone - Tommy Tutone-2
Dwight Twilley - Wild Dogs
Uriah Heep - Wonderworld
Uriah Heep - Innocent Victim
Uriah Heep - Fallen Angel
Various - The Anthology Of British Blues
The Ventures - Swamp Rock
The Ventures - Rock And Roll Forever
Joe Walsh - You Bought It You Name It
Edgar Winter's White Trash - Roadwork
Yankees ‎– High 'N' Inside (Great Private press Power Pop LP)
Neil Young - Trans
Neil Young - Sample And Hold 12"
The Youngbloods - The Best Of
Zebra - Zebra
Prog Rock/Art Rock, Etc.
Mike Batt With The London Symphony Orchestra ‎– Schizophonia
Brand X ‎– Moroccan Roll
Brand X - Livestock (Cover VG-)
Keith Emerson - Nighthawks OST
Keith Emerson with The Nice - S/T
Keith Emerson & The Nice - Attention!
Emerson, Lake & Palmer - S/T
Emerson Lake & Palmer - In Concert
Emerson Lake & Palmer - Welcome Back My Friends..
FM - Black Noise
Genesis - Invisible Touch
Steve Hackett ‎– Please Don't Touch!
Kansas - Masque
Kansas - Vinyl Confessions
Kansas - Audio Visions
Kansas - Monolith
Kayak - Royal Red Bouncer
Man - Slow Motion
Marillion - Brief Encounter
The Moody Blues - Seventh Sojourn
The Moody Blues - A Question Of Balance
The Moody Blues - The Present
The Moody Blues - To Our Childrens Children
Patrick Moraz - The Story Of i
Patrick Moraz - S/T
Patrick Moraz - Human Interface
The Alan Parsons Project - Pyramid
Renaissance - Prologue
Sky - Sky 2LP
Sky ‎– Sky 3
Andy Summers & Robert Fripp - I Advance Masked
Thee Image - Thee Image
Rick Wakeman - Criminal Record
Zon - Astral Projector
Jazz
Airto - Virgin Land (Cover G+)
Ronnie Aldrich - The Romantic Pianos Of
Ronnie Aldrich - The Magic Mood Of
Ronnie Aldrich And His Two Pianos - That Aldrich Feeling
Ronnie Aldrich And His Two Pianos - Where The Sun Is
Nestor Amaral And His Continentals - Brazil
Brian Auger's Oblivion Express ‎– Happiness Heartaches
Gato Barbieri - El Pampero
Warren Barker And Frank Comstock ‎– TV Guide Top Television Themes
Count Basie - Good Morning Blues
George Benson - Breezin'
Earl Bostic - 14 Hits
The Bob Brookmeyer Quartet - Oslo
The Les Brown Story - Greatest Hits In Today's Sound
Barbara Carroll - Plays The Best Of George & Ira Gershwin
Barbara Carroll - Satin Doll
June Christy - This Is June Christy!
Michael Colina - Shadow Of Urbano
Jackie Coon - Jazzin' Around
Martin Denny ‎– Exotic Night
Ella Fitzgerald - Montreux 1975
Ella Fitzgerald And Oscar Peterson - Ella And Oscar
Roy Fox And His Band - At The Monseigneur Restaurant
Benny Goodman - Francaise
Dave Grusin ‎– A Jazz Version Of The Broadway Hit Subways Are For Sleeping (VG-)
Dave Grusin ‎– Mountain Dance
The Bobby Hackett Quartet Plus Vic Dickenson - S/T
Lionel Hampton - Live At Midem
Lionel Hampton - Hamp's Golden Favorites
Wayne Henderson - Big Daddy's Place
Jon Hendricks & Company ‎– Love
Paul Horn - Inside
Paul Horn & Steven Halpern - Connections
Lena Horne/Harry Belafonte - Porgy And Bess
Jackie & Roy - Time & Love
Milt Jackson, Count Basie - Vol 1
Keith Jarrett - Changes
Antonio Carlos Jobim - Love, Strings and Jobim
Tom Justice - Justice Makes Love
Yank Lawson And Bob Haggart - The World's Greatest Jazz Band
Peggy Lee - Greatest Hits
Meade Lux Lewis - Barrel House Piano
Ramsey Lewis - Live At The Savoy
The Manhattan Transfer - Best Of
Herbie Mann - New Mann At Newport
Ann-Margret - Kitty Kallen - Della Reese ‎– 3 Great Girls
Mark-Almond - S/T
Mark-Almond - II
Mark-Almond - Rising
Jay McShann - The Man From Muskogee
Red Mitchell - Red Mitchell (VG-)
Wes Montgomery - California Dreaming
Turk Murphy's Jazz Band - San Francisco Jazz
Turk Murphy's Jazz Band - San Francisco Memories
Jimmy Noon & Earl Hines - At The Apex Club
Red Norvo, Teddy Wilson, Gene Krupa.. - Jazz Concert
Billy Oskay And Michael O Domhnail - Nightnoise
André Previn, Gerry Mulligan, Carmen McRae ‎– Performing Music From The Subterraneans - Original Sound Track Album (Cover VG-)
George Russell & The Living Time Orchestra - The African Game
Pee Wee Russell - S/T
Diane Schuur - Schuur Thing
Diane Schuur - Timeless
Bud Shank/Shorty Rogers - California Concert
Frank Sinatra - S/T
Bessie Smith - The Bessie Smith Story Vol III w/ Joe Smith & Fletcher Henderson's Hot Six
Cal Tjader - The Shining Sea
Various - Round Midnight OST
Sarah Vaughan - The George Gershwin Songbook
Lou Watters' Yerba Buena Jazz Band - S/T
Nancy Wilson - Broadway My Way
Nancy Wilson - For Once In My Life
Zaccarias And His Orchestra - Dance The Bossa Nova
Soul/R&B/Funk/Disco/Gospel
Marian Anderson With Franz Rupp ‎– Spirituals
Marian Anderson - The Lady From Philadelphia
Automatic Man - S/T
Blue Magic - Thirteen Blue Magic LAne
Bus Boys - Minimum Wage Rock & Roll
Ray Charles - His All Time Great Performances (2LP)
Chocolate Milk - We're All In This Together
Commodores - Natural High
Commodores - Heroes
The Crusaders - Chain Reaction
The Crusaders - Crusaders I
Godfrey Daniel ‎– Take A Sad Song...
Tyrone Davis - Turning Point!
Fats Domino ‎– Sings Million Record Hits
Fats Domino - Twistin' The Stomp (Cover VG-)
Dobie Gray - Drift Away
Jester Hairston And His Chorus ‎– A Profile Of Negro Life in Song
Alberta Hunter - The Glory Of
Ink Spots - Vol 2
Mahalia Jackson - The World's Greatest Gospel Singer
The Jacksons - Triumph
J.O.B. Orquestra ‎– Open The Doors To Your Heart
Grace Jones ‎– Warm Leatherette
Kongas ‎– Africanism
O.B. McClinton - Album No. 2
The Persuasions - Comin' At Ya
The Pointer Sisters - Energy
Lea Roberts - Lady Lea
Smokey Robinson - Yes It's You Lady
Diana Ross - Lady Sings The Blues 2LP
Diana Ross & Lionel Richie - Endless Love
The Shirelles - Sweet Soul From 2LP
Silver Convention - S/T
Donna Summer - A Love Trilogy
Donna Summer - She Works Hard For The Money
Donna Summer - Donna Summer
The Supremes - A Bit Of Liverpool (Cover VG-)
The Sylvers - The Best Of
Johnnie Taylor - Super Taylor
The Temptations - Christmas Card
Various - The Big Chill OST (Marvin Gaye, Temptations, Miracles, Aretha..)
War - Deliver The Word
Dionne Warwick - Friends
Bobby Womack - So Many Rivers
Folk/Country/Southern Rock
A Goodly Company Of Dulcimer Artists ‎– Pastime With Good Company - Dulcimer Music For The Christmas Season
Chet Atkins & Les Paul - Chester & Lester
Joan Baez - Recently
Joan Baez - David's Album
Joan Baez - Any Day Now
Bobby Bare - Hard Time Hungrys
Black Oak Arkansas - High On The Hog
Black Oak Arkansas - Keep The Faith
J.D. Blackfoot - Southbound And Gone
Glen Campbell - The Artistry Of 2LP
Harry Chapin - Heads & Tails
Patsy Cline - Today Tomorrow & Forever (Top seam unglued)
Malcolm Dalglish & Grey Larsen ‎– The First Of Autumn
The Charlie Daniels Band - Whiskey
John Denver - I Want To Live
John Denver - Autograph
John Denver - Whose Garden Was This
John Denver - Spirit
John Denver - Farewell Andromeda
Nelson Eddy - Stour-Hearted Men
Joe Ely - Honky Tonk Masquerade
Joe Ely - Musta Notta Gotta Lotta
Kinky Friedman - Sold American (Cover VG-)
Norman Greenbaum - Petaluma
Norman Greenbaum With Dr. West's Medicine Show And Junk Band
Arlo Guthrie - S/T
Arlo Guthrie - Amigo
Tim Hardin ‎– Suite For Susan Moore And Damion - We Are - One, One, All In One
Burl Ives - More Folksongs By 10"
Waylon Jennings And The Kimberleys - S/T (VG-)
Leo Kottke - Leo Kottke
Sleepy LaBeef - It Ain't What You Eat It's The Way How You Chew It
k.d. lang ‎– The Making Of Shadowland
Peter Lang - Back To The Wall
Gordon Lightfoot - Summertime Dream
Mama's Pride ‎– Mama's Pride
Mother Earth - Living With The Animals
Tracy Nelson - S/T
The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band - All The Good Times
The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band - The Rest Of The Dream
The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band - Ricochet
Outlaws - Ghost Riders
Jim Post ‎– Slow To 20
Mason Proffit ‎– Wanted
Redwing - Redwing
The Roches ‎– Keep On Doing
Kenny Rogers And The First Edition ‎– Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town
Linda Ronstadt & The Stone Poneys - Stoney End
Linda Ronstadt - Hand Sown Home Grown
Linda Ronstadt - Greatest Hits
Linda Ronstadt - S/T
Linda Ronstadt - Different Drum
Linda Ronstadt - Silk Purse
Linda Ronstadt - Heart Like A Wheel
Tom Rush - Tom Rush
John B Sebastian - S/T
John Stewart - California Bloodlines
The Stone Poneys Feat. Linda Ronstadt - S/T
Various - White Mansions - A Tale From The American Civil War 1861-1865 (Jessi Coulter, Waylon Jennings, John Dillon, Steve Cash)
Various - The Legend Of Jesse James (Levon Helm, Johnny Cash, Emmylou Harris, Charlie Daniels)
Wet Willie - The Wetter The Better
Hank Williams Jr - Country Shadows (Cover G+)
Jesse Colin Young ‎– The Soul Of A City Boy
Jesse Colin Young - Love On The Wing
Jesse Colin Young - Light Shine
Jesse Colin Young - Songbird
Jesse Colin Young - Song For Juli
New Age/Ambient
William Ackerman ‎– Conferring With The Moon
Darol Anger - Barbara Higbie ‎– Tideline
Scott Cossu - Wind Dance
George Cromarty - Wind In The Heather
Alex de Grassi - Southern Exposure
Steven Halpern - Georgia Kelly - Ancient Echoes
Steven Halpern - Prelude
Mannheim Steamroller - Fresh Aire III
Michael Manring - Unusual Weather
Shadowfax ‎– The Dreams Of Children
Vangelis - Heaven And Hell
Vangelis - Opera Sauvage
Vangelis - Spiral
Vangelis - Beaubourg
Vangelis - Mask
Vangelis - Invisible Connections
Vangelis - See You Later
Vangelis - China
Various - Soul Of The Machine -- The Windham Hill Sampler Of New Electronic Music
Andreas Vollenweider ‎– ... Behind The Gardens - Behind The Wall - Under The Tree ...
Paul Winter ‎– Canyon
Hawaiian/Pacific
Alfred Apaka - Aloha Apaka
Bill Kaiwa - Paniolo Country Western
Danny Kapoi Trio - At The Sheraton Maui
Soundtracks
Beauty and The Beast / Of Love and Hope (Music and Poetry)
The Blue Lagoon
Buck Rogers In The 25th Century (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Dirty Dancing In Concert
Earthquake
Electra Glide In Blue
Fame
Jesus Christ Superstar
Light Of Day
Lisztomania
The Man From Snowy River
The Music Of Cosmos
The Natural (Randy Newman)
Pippin
The Razor’s Edge
The Rocky Horror Show: Original Australian Cast Album
Saturday Night Fever
Shock Treatment Cast ‎– Shock Treatment / Overture
Silent Running
Stand By Me
Superman (Cover VG-)
Times Square
To Sir, With Love
The London Symphony Orchestra And Chambre Choir ‎– Tommy / As Performed By The London Symphony Orchestra And Chambre Choir With Guest Soloists Boxset
Various ‎– Fonzie Favorites
Comedy/Spoken Word
Cheech And Chong - S/T
Cheech And Chong - Get Out Of My Room
The Firesign Theatre - I Think We're All Bozos On This Bus
The Firesign Theatre - Waiting For The Electrician..
The Firesign Theatre - The Giant Rat Of Sumatra
Dick Gregory - At Kent State 2LP
Tom Lehrer - Songs By Tom Lehrer
The Monty Python Instant Record Collection
National Lampoon - White Album
Orson Welles - The Begatting Of The President
Children's
The Chipmunks - Chipmunk Punk
Maurice Evans Reads A. A. Milne ‎– Winnie-The-Pooh
Maurice Evans Reads A. A. Milne ‎– More Winnie-The-Pooh
Pete's Dragon - Disney
The Rescuers (Disney)
Miscellaneous
Boniface Bonnie ‎– Night & Daylight Yeibichei (Native American)
Bonzo Dog Band ‎– Beast Of The Bonzos
Bonzo Dog Band - THe History Of The Bonzos 2LP
Tomita - The Planets
submitted by creature_fear12 to VinylCollectors [link] [comments]


2020.10.12 14:57 Sooperdude24 Mom dance naked

Word delivery - A lot of much appreciated hard work from u/eruwenn as usual.
First / Prev / Next
Things were tense on every deck of the Porkchop Express. Alexa sat rigidly in the captain’s chair, Aiov in her lap and Sassie doing her hest beside her to take up as much seat as possible. In her usual seat was Allistan, taking over the role of pilot as they cautiously approached the station in the Krond system where the Righteous Fury sat at dock. All the while, Chae'Sol was checking and updating the calculated escape routes, so that they'd be ready at a moment's notice to jump out of the system. Clustered in a nervous trio by the doorway were Ranjaz, Estrilla, and Jar'Bek. Without anything more pressing to do, they couldn't help but watch with the others, waiting to see if the pirates would undock from the station and attack them as they approached.
Danyd and Jaym were no longer alone in Engineering, as the Awakened Elizabeth had joined them. Ignoring the rules that had once bound the Inorganics, she had immediately integrated with the ship's diagnostics and quickly identified several stress points that were likely to fail in a firefight. She was extremely knowledgeable, and Danyd had recruited her to his side immediately. If things turned out badly, the more capable hands they had, the better. He had also tried to get her to change her attire to something more befitting on-shift duty, and though she consented to losing the bulky dress and wearing overalls, she would not be swayed on the bodice and matching goggles.
Embar shifted where he sat, but his narrowed eyes never left the security console. He furrowed his brow in concentration as he checked the status of the weapons once again. They were powered down, yes, but they would be ready to use at the press of a single button. Nodding in grim satisfaction, he pressed a flashing indicator on his screen and opened a channel to Norrin. "Are you ready?”
Norrin glanced around at the dozen Awakened on board the K7 with him. They were all heavily armed and wearing newly-crafted leather combat clothing for protection. "Strike team is ready," he replied. "Tell Allistan to continue flying smoothly, we are tight in your scan profile.”
The Awakened had been strange shipmates at first, but had quickly defined and refined who they were and, of course, what they wanted to become. Purpose. They had all talked about this burgeoning question the new race was contemplating. Everyone wanted purpose, Embar noted with a grim smile. It had been his own need for a cause, after all, that had brought him this far. He realized he hadn't yet replied to Norrin, and said "Don't act till we give the word.”
Norrin’s voice came in loudly over the comms channel. “I will await your command.”
Sassie suddenly whined, and immediately Alexa’s hand was running over the dog's side. “Good girl,” she soothed. “We’ll get him back soon.”
Embar’s console pinged. "It's the Righteous Fury!" he exclaimed as he turned briefly to Alexa. Then he read the rest of the message. When he spoke again, his tone was different. "They want to talk.”
Alexa leaned forward in her seat. “Put them on.”
The main screen blinked to now show the bridge of the Ashi vessel. Captain Elora'Tan stood at the centre of the familiar scene. “You’re here, finally. Stop dawdling and dock. Jar, bring your friends; I’d like to meet you all face to face. I’ll send instructions.”
Alexa’s blue eyes blazed with icy fury. “Oh, I can’t wait to be in the same room as you.”
Elora’Tan smiled. “Silver hair, angry scowl. You would be Alexa, yes?” She didn’t wait for confirmation. “He warned me about you.” With a wave of her hand, the screen went blank.
“It’s a trap,” Ranjaz blurted out. “We have to go in guns blazing, take them out before they take us out.”
Embar shook his head. “They could have simply shot us down, paid off a few locals and be done with it. I say we meet.”
Alexa spoke, ending the discussion before it began. "I'll hear her out." She stood, putting Aiov down on the seat with one hand and scratching Sassie's head with the other. "Tell Norrin and the others to stay hidden, for now.”
Something in Alexa's tone was disconcerting, and as Embar opened up the comms channel he felt oddly strange interrupting the quiet that had fallen over the bridge. "Norrin, bring the shuttle in close to the station and dock out of sight. We're going to meet.”
Norrin immediately responded. “Understood.”
Alexa and her team walked towards the designated meeting spot, the small bar on the central deck of the station. It had clearly been taken over by the Ashi from the Righteous Fury, and half a dozen of their soldiers stood outside, turning away the regulars. It was still surprising to Alexa that Captain Loring had not asked them to come unarmed. They were only going to be outnumbered. It had been an usual communication, with the Ashi Captain even sending a message to personally select which crew members would be accompanying Alexa.
Ranjaz had immediately taken this statement to be a challenge, and was currently carrying enough weapons and grenades to start a small war. He was also sporting his red and gold war mask and, because he somehow imagined a world in which he would for some reason use all of his energy cells and require a more old-fashioned method of killing, a machete-like sword was strapped to his waist as a last resort
Estrilla followed behind him, sporting only energy pistol sidearms. Embar, at her side, had decided to bring human weapons for shock value. In his hands was his M60, and on his hip was a Rinoxian sized Magnum.
Alexa was unarmed, and when her crewmates had asked why she had simply turned her hand into a blade and back again. Currently, the silver-haired Awakened was not happy, and she turned to Jar'Bek, giving him a sideways look. "Why you? What does she think we need a lawyer for?"
The lawyer double-checked that his energy rifle and pistol were still in place, and swallowed hard as he opened his mouth to answer. "I honestly don't know. Perhaps to mediate?"
“Mediate?” Ranjaz powered up his energy rifle.
Estrilla, trying to defuse the tension in the air, chirped up, “We should hear her out. Even if the delivery has been made, they may have useful information.”
Embar had been watching the guards as they approached, and something in their demeanor didn't sit right with him. They stood there at the doors to the bar, nervous - as was expected - but not as alert as would be the norm. The Rinoxian's team was outnumbered, yes, but the guards should still be more wary. "Something feels off," he said to the rest of them just before they got close enough to be overheard by anyone.
A few paces later, one of the guards at the door gave a friendly, if slightly awkward, wave. "Captain's waiting. Go on in," he said as he opened the door and gestured for them to come inside.
Was he trying to lull them into a false sense of security? Embar was now certain than ever that something was wrong with this situation. "I don't like this," he muttered to the others as quietly as he could.
Alexa felt the strangeness in the air as well. "Just be ready for anything," she replied in a whisper.
The twenty Ashi standing inside the bar fell silent as the crew of the Porkchop Express entered. All eyes then turned to the the large table at the end of the room, where Captain Loring sat with her back to a wall with a vidscreen currently showing an advert for Musicify. The Captain waved her hand, and her crew resumed their chatter.
Alexa leisurely approached, taking the seat opposite the Ashi captain. Jar'Bek took the seat to her left, and Estrilla sat to the right. Neither Ranjaz nor Embar sat, choosing instead to turn around and face the room, weapons ready.
Alexa remained impassive. “We’re here, so talk.”
Loring’s eyes glittered. She was going to take her time and enjoy this moment. “I think first we should have a drink. Relax a little.” She inclined her head towards the pair standing guard. “They can sit down, this isn’t an ambush. I’ll even pay for your drinks. Gesture of goodwill, if you will.”
The Queen of the Awakened tilted her head. “I don’t drink.”
“Ah, yes.” Loring nodded. “But your crew do. Perhaps a tea for the doctor and something without sugar for big, red, and intimidating back there.”
The captain knew more than she should, which sowed a seed of doubt in Alexa’s mind. “Fine. We’ll play along.”
Ranjaz swiftly pulled up a seat, raising his hand to gesture at the bartender. “A bottle of Fae’Dan wine, the Roma’Nee Quon’Tee if you have it. If not, the Anatidae fizz Dom’Per... something or other.” He gave a bright grin to their host as she grimaced at the exorbitantly priced drinks.
Though Embar took a seat at the table, his eyes never left the pirates around the room. One of them, he noticed, nudged another and motioned to the back room. The former general watched the two of them leave the room as drinks arrived at their table and were served in silence. He sipped his - ice water - and observed the two guards returning. One of them looked directly at him, and gave an almost imperceptible nod. He put his glass back on the table. "Enough stalling.”
Loring smiled. “I wasn’t stalling, honestly.” She put her own glass down. “I wanted to meet with you. Get to know you a little.”
Ranjaz pushed his seat back slightly as he set his bottle on the table. “Not you, dumbass.”
Alexa’s stern poker face changed, and a malicious smile now cracked the edge of her mouth. “Now,” she called out.
At once, half the Ashi pirates sprang into action. The other half were attacked, knocked down, and surprisingly quickly disarmed to be held at gunpoint. The bartender also drew an energy pistol, moving to stand behind Loring. The Ashi captain leaned to one side to better observe her crew being tied up. Sitting up straight again with a look of mild amusement on her face, she gave a slow clap. “He did say to be careful.”
Alexa stood and the others followed suit. She leaned over the table, glaring fiercely into the unflinching eyes of the Ashi. “Who?”
Loring leaned back in her seat. “First, how did you get to my men?” It was surprising that she had been betrayed, but the silver-haired girl had money to burn, and money bought the loyalty of some. It still irked her that so many were swayed from her side. “How much did my men’s loyalty cost you?”
“Your men?” Alexa tilted her head to one side. “Not quite.”
The Ashi Captain watched as the traitor pirates all began at once to melt and reform, becoming an oddly dressed group. All had silver hair that matched the one in front of her. “Nice trick. Are my men alive?”
The bartender with the gun pointed at the back of her head spoke, and as Loring glanced at him she saw that he now appeared to be a living chrome statue. “Your men are in the service area. They will recover. We simply disabled them and replaced them as they patrolled.”
Loring raised her chin to look defiantly at Alexa. “Ask your questions.” The punch caught her by surprise, knocking her from her seat onto the ground. She was tough, but had been hit harder. Rubbing her chin, she returned to her seat. “Normally you ask a question first.”
“That was a warning,” Ranjaz replied.
Loring laughed, taking her drink off the table. “A warning?” She drained the glass. Alexa’s hand briefly became a blade before her eyes before returning to the hand that had struck her. “That’s enough. I told you I wanted to talk.”
Estrilla stood and took a small bundle from inside her jacket, rolling it out onto the table. “Oh, you’ll talk. And I’ll make sure it’s the truth.” The dermal spray glinted in her hand.
Loring’s laughter rang out loudly, surprising the others with its warmth. “Oh, by Tulseria’s third breast, was he right. He said you were crazy, he said I shouldn’t underestimate any of you, and by the gods was he right!”
His patience wearing thin, Embar drew his knife and slammed it into the table. “Who is “he”?”
“The blasted human.” Loring continued to chuckle. “If he hadn’t gotten us all so damn drunk I would never have agreed to this. He’s got a cursed tongue, I swear.” She reached over to Ranjaz’s expensive bottle, pouring herself a glass. “We’re on the same side, potentially.” With those words, she finally got what she had been wanting all along: the delightful looks of confusion and doubt that were crossing their faces. “He was right, your faces are worthy of a picture.” She motioned to a camera stuck on the wall behind them. “He said he’d pay extra for that.”
Alexa had a feeling she was about to get very angry. “I swear, if he jumps out of a cake I’m going to stab him.” She sat back down, motioning the others to lower their guns. “Explain. So I know exactly how much to hurt him.”
Loring pulled a small datapad from her pocket. “I’ll let him explain.”
As the Ashi pressed a button, the vid screen on the wall behind her sprang to life and Aaron’s smiling face appeared, huge and grinning. He moved back from the camera, clearly having it propped up on a table, while he sat in frame.
“What’s up guys! I wish I could see the looks on your faces right now!” The human was red-faced and his words were slightly slurred. “Hey! Hey! Elora!”
The captain’s voice came from behind the camera. “What now Cooper?” Aaron beckoned her to him and she swayed onto the screen to sit in his lap. Giggling, she took off her hat and plopped it onto his head
Aaron was pointing at the screen, laughing. “Make sure you record their reaction, it’ll be priceless!”
The Ashi captain gave an embarrassed cough, and the screen paused. "It's not what it looks like," she tried to explain to Alexa. "Really. He challenged us to a drinking competition, and by that I mean him alone against half of my crew.”
Jar’Bek instinctively winced, remembering the first time he had met the human, and the lethal concoction he had been drinking. The Ashi by nature had a low tolerance for alcohol, but compared to the human it was barely existent. “Did he win?”
She shrugged. “Nobody remembers.”
“Play the rest,” Alexa said through gritted teeth.
The video resumed with the captain agreeing to record their reaction. She stood and began to stagger off. Aaron slapped her firmly on the rear, causing her to jump playfully, before returning his attention to the camera. “These Ashi definitely know how to party. Look, we made a disco!” He leaned forward, snatching up the camera. The picture swung violently before showing an area of a presumed mess hall to have been cleared. A crowd of Ashi were dancing as if hypnotised under a swath of bright lights with a silver ball rotating in the centre. The direction of the lights was constantly shifting, matching the beat of the music, and both smoke and bubbles gleamed in the air. “Legendary party! You guys should have been here.” The camera swung back once more to an uncomfortably close shot of Aaron’s face. “Hey, how come Jarby’s so dull?”
Ranjaz laughed and was about to say something when Alexa shot him a fierce look. She crossed her arms. “He is in so much trouble.”
Meanwhile, the camera view stabilized, returning to its previous propped-up position, and Aaron swayed as he sat back in his seat. “Alright, so…” He paused to gather his errant thoughts, remembered his drink and picked it up, taking enthusiastic gulps of its contents. “So…” He seemed to be struggling to remember what was happening. “Oh yeah. Guys! Guess what? I got fucking kidnapped!”
Alexa groaned; Ranjaz sniggered.
Aaron shook his head, then slapped his own face. “Ok. Ok. I remember. I was kidnapped, but they’re totally cool. It was just a job, and like, who can blame them. Stuck out here without a world, they have to do what they can to survive.” He was trying to look serious while slowly swaying and gesturing with his bottle. “Like, fuck the Galactic Federation. These guys have to pirate to survive, and that’s not right. I mean some of them, not the murdering raider guys. These guys-”
An Ashi stumbled into shot and wrapped his arm around Aaron’s shoulder, waving at the camera. “Helloooooooo!” He then released his grip and fell face first to the ground behind the human.
Quickly looking over his shoulder at the unconscious pirate Aaron called back to the camera. “He’s fine. Bunch of them have done that. Good lads. I think that guy is called Ben, or Bob - his mom works on the ship, how cool is that?”
Aaron turned back towards the camera lens and finished his drink. “Look, that Sentinel guy paid them. Fucking Sentinels. Condemn them, and then hire them, it’s a load of bollocks I’m telling you. Making these guys do the dirty work.” His rambling suddenly veered back on course. “Anyway, we have to find the Sentinel to get the weapon. These guys don’t want a war with the Hive either. Only these Sentinel guys do, which is super suspicsh-ish-ishious.” He waved his empty drink around wildly. “They just want a home, and real lives, and shit, it’s so unfair! I’mma help these guys out, ya know.”
Loring wandered back on screen and handed him another drink before sitting down beside him. She looked very upset. “I lost my hat! Now I can’t be Captain!”
Aaron took the hat from his head and put it on the despondent Ashi. “Here, you can have mine.”
Her eyes welled up and she threw her arms around him, planting a kiss directly on his lips. “You’re the best, Cooper!” She stood and turned, walking off screen as she yelled, “I got a new hat, so I’m still captain!” There was a loud drunken cheer.
In the bar room Loring’s head hung low, her cheeks flushing a darker grey.
On the screen Aaron was sampling his new beverage. “Stuff’s weak as ant’s piss, but if you drink a hundred it’ll get the job done. I’ve been to the bathroom a billion times!” His swaying continued as he took another drink. “Anyway, these guys are gonna freeze me. Hand me over to the Sentinel. Then, when I be unfreezed. Defreezed?. Fuck it, I’mma wake up and kick ass and stop their plan. Smart, right?”
Alexa turned away from the screen and looked at Loring. “Please, tell me you did not go along with this.”
The Pirate captain gave a half-hearted shrug. “He is very convincing.” She placed the extra ammo for Aaron’s gun on the table. “He said he lost his gun, but he has a super-duper secret weapon. I was told to give these to you.”
Aaron had picked up the camera once more and it was once again uncomfortably close to his face. “Hey, Jarby. I told them to get you at the meeting, and Embar. I got an idea.” He looked around as if someone would be listening in. “Amnesty! See what you can do, it’s genius. If they get it, they can join us and we can totally half the number of pirates, or something. Fucking genius, I’m telling you. Get Estrilla to help with her Councillor. I’m telling you, million credit idea.” He seemed to look off screen. “Hey, Elora!” He paused and seemed to get a response off screen. “Make sure the Doc comes to watch this.” Another pause as he got his off screen answer. “Ha, yeah. She’s the cute little yellow one.” Having finished talking to Loring off screen, Aaron returned his attention to the camera. “Doc, you should be there now, or will be there. I dunno. This is a great idea, amnesty all the guys who only broke the law a little bit.”
Loring paused the video, having noticed Jar'Bek's mouth hanging open. “You ok Jar?
The lawyer was pale and his eyes wide in horror. He stood and backed away from the table. “He’s insane. I mean, I knew he was insane, but this!”
Embar’s voice was deep and thoughtful. “It’s not that insane. The cost of patrols is a hell of a burden on the Federation. A ten or twenty percent reduction in pirate activity would be seen as a great success.”
Estrilla added, “I mean, we’ll never get pardons for the real scum” -she gave an apologetic look to Loring- “but, drastically cutting their numbers would be worth turning a few blind eyes, politically speaking.”
Loring coughed. “He said the Galactic Federation could claim to be banishing us, something about a land down under which I don’t remember very well.” She looked slightly abashed at her lack of professionalism. “They get to ship off their criminals to be someone else’s problem. We get our pardons and join your new colonies. Any future crimes would still be punishable, of course,” she clarified. “We get a clean start, and they get to blame the human if it goes wrong.”
Jar’Bek was taking deep breaths to keep his thoughts from whirling out of control. “He expects me to negotiate this, doesn’t he?” , he asked, and Loring nodded. “I’d have to deal with the Galactic Council and the Ashi. Oh Tulseria, I’d have to deal with...”
“...your mother,” Loring finished for him. “She’s already been informed.”
Alexa’s voice was calm, tinged with a hint of the anger burning inside her. “That is a future problem. Can we please focus on retrieving my human safely, so that I may kill him slowly.”
Jar’Bek immediately sat backdown upon hearing Alexa's tone, and Loring started the video once again.
Aaron,unpaused, took another long drink. “Ok. So I got like a space hour till I get frozed again. Err.. what else. Oh, we’re putting a tracker on the cryopod, smart. And I lost my phone, if someone didn’t grab it can you radio the guys on the planet to see if they can find it?” He paused, staring blankly for an uncomfortable amount of time. “I think that’s it. Come after me and be ready, but like, wait for my signal.” He reached forward and turned off the camera.
Before anyone could speak Loring held up her hand. “Unfortunately, it’s not over.”
The screen flitted from black to bright white - a ceiling light, that swung down to Aaron’s face. “One more thing. Elora, hold this.” The camera was passed to Loring. “Alexa, I have a question. Do nanites have to recharge after one of those mind fight things?” He stepped back, bringing his dripping wet and almost naked body into view. Across his chest, arms and legs were multiple bruises, some particularly large. “My limits are still on, and I can eat just fine. But, when I was kidnapped I couldn't turn off the limits, and I’m definitely not healing.”
The camera suddenly fell and the screen appeared to be underwater, and as Aaron lifted it clear he was shaking his head. “Stuff is all slippy in here.” He turned the camera, showing the hot tub he was standing in. The camera continued to pan to where Loring sat wearing her hat, sitting in the bubbling water. “And, she is waaay too drunk to work a camera. Ok, I better go. Don’t worry, I think the nanites are probably working, I barely feel any pain. Maybe a low battery or something.” He picked up another drink and drained it. “Ok, time to catch a Sentinel.”
The video ended and Loring began talking immediately. “He said if we edited it you wouldn’t believe it.” She scratched the back of her neck. “It really isn’t what it looks like.”
Alexa stood. “It looks like you and that idiot got drunk, came up with a half-baked plan, and then you handed him over to the Sentinels in a cryopod.” She took a deep breath, or at least performed the action. “Where is he?”
The Ashi captain pushed the datapad across the table. “This follows the tracking device. It’s a low power device that uses outgoing transmissions, so it won’t be detected. But you only get a signal when the ship broadcasts.”
The Rinoxian general let out a long sigh. “And when did they last broadcast?”
Loring looked sheepish again. “A cycle ago. They’re heading towards Hive space.”
Estrilla pulled Alexa’s sleeve, bringing her head lower so they could speak quietly. “Why isn’t he healing?”
Pausing to consider the possibilities, Alexa's concern showed in her voice. “During the fight his core was destroyed. The core nanites control the others. My nanites are constantly being updated with new instructions to maintain my form, to move, even the tiny changes in my skin and hair. Aaron and Sassie’s, well, they were just fulfilling basic functions on repeat so they should, in theory, keep doing that. They aren’t getting new instructions”
“So, he should be fine?” The Kachna sounded hopeful.
“No.” Alexa became more agitated as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall together. “Healing is a reaction to a stimulus, which won’t happen without core nanites to control it. The limiters are much the same - without the signal, they can't switch off. He can't access his full strength.” She groaned loudly. “And that stupid, overconfident jerk is relying on it to surprise the Sentinel.”
Next
submitted by Sooperdude24 to HFY [link] [comments]


2020.10.12 00:23 LetsRead_YouTube Disneyland Story 4

So a few summers ago, the old ball-and-chain and I took the kids down to Florida for a week so they could visit Disney World. It was a win-win situation. They would actually stop hounding us to take them there, while us grownups could soak up the tropics for a whole seven days to experience what an actual summer feels like. Don’t get me wrong, I love my native state of Maine, but the only thing scarier than Stephen King’s books is the goddamn weather here. As the saying goes, “don’t like the weather in New England, all you gotta do is wait a minute”.
So we’re down in Orlando for the week, and the arrangement is we’ll spend three days at Disney World, with a day either side where the grownups can do fairly grownup things. So we’re walking around the city, seeing some sights and baking in the Florida sunshine. I get the one thing I’d really been after, which was a huge Cuban Sandwich, so the kids are being corralled by their Mom while I’m trailing behind, trying not to pass out from ingesting my body weight in Pork, Bread and Cheese. So at one point, my wife needs to use the bathroom, so I’m in charge of keeping an eye on the kids while she runs off to find somewhere that’ll let he use the bathroom without making her open her purse. Now admittedly, this is where I feel short of being my best as a father. I find a bench nearby, plant my ass down on it, and tell the kids to stay where I can see them; which, since I shut my eyes and starting sunbathing like the disgusting, greasy lizard person I was, was a little redundant.
Next thing I know, I’m about to doze off when I kind of jerk out of my haze thinking “dammit, the kids!” I get up, look around, and see my son like halfway down the street, talking to some guy dressed as Mickey Mouse. I knew the Disney characters appeared outside of the parks on occasion, but all the way in downtown Orlando? I was a little confused, but more relieved than anything, since they hadn’t disappeared into thin air, which would’ve ruined more than just our vacation, I can tell you that much. So I’m walking down towards Mickey, when I start to realize there’s something not quite right about him. The Mickeys in the parks were super animated, big theatrical movements to keep the kiddies entertained and stuff. This one was anything but. While my kids are basically dancing around him, wicked excited to see him outside of the parks, Mickey is just kind of staring at them. Almost like Mickey Mouse had taken a few Mickey Pills (sorry, Dad joke, comes with the territory). But it’s only as I get really close do I start to really see how this particular Mickey isn’t just acting wrong, he looks wrong too. It wasn’t just that the shape and colour of his copyright dodging costume was all off kilter, it was the fact that is was goddamn filthy. I mean I get that those things mustn’t be the easiest things in the world to wash, like I’m pretty sure just the head wouldn’t fit in the washer drier we had at home, but this thing was covered in dirt and old stains. Like it looked seriously, seriously gross, and I dread to think what that thing smelled like on the inside.
Look, I’m not a total asshole, I understood (or at least I thought I understood) what the deal was with the guy in the knock off suit. No one in a stable financial situation chooses to wear a stinky old Nicky the Rat suit or whatever, and parades themselves around downtown Orlando. So as the kids are still running circles around the dude, who I figured was just exhausted and half heat-stroked, I reach into my wallet and go to hand him a twenty. But the guy just looks at me, or rather, the guy didn’t, the head did. Which I did not anticipate to be so goddamn creepy, this pair of big, black lifeless eyes just staring me down from a few feet away seriously rustled my jimmies. I kind of thrust the twenty in his general direction, like ‘hey dude, take the money’, and the guy actually tilts the head at me, I mean like a well-rehearsed horror movie move. And obviously, I respond by putting the twenty back in my goddamn wallet as to not offend him any further. I call my kids back to me, because their Mom is probably wondering just where the hell we’ve gotten to, and they’re all like “aww daaaaad, can’t we play with Mickey a little while more?” , while Mickey goes back to staring at them, which obviously is now making me super uncomfortable. I’m now insisting in my best stern-dad voice that they do as their told, or I’d be telling their Mom (she’s the tough one) that they’ve been misbehaving. As they do, Mickey reaches out to try to grab at my then seven year old son. Red line crossed right there, don’t touch my goddamn kids unless I know you. So I step to the guy, and state just that, that he has absolutely no right to lay a hand on my kids, especially not in that suit. Mickey then takes to just staring at me again, and this whole time, he’s not made a goddamn sound. I take both my kids by the hand, who are getting pretty distressed at this point since Dad is being mean to Mickey, and Mickey isn’t exactly acting his usual cheerful self either. I make a show of apologizing to the man for being curt with him, then try to make it one of those ‘teachable moments’ as I walk away with the kids; making it clear to them that no adult is allowed to touch them without their expressed permission, and that strangers are most definitely not allowed to touch them, and to tell Mom or Dad if they do. But then I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder, where I see Mickey, still staring at me, and somehow managing to be even creepier than before.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I was so not used to how goddamn humid Florida could be. Our motel room’s air conditioning had been very well behaved all week, but had picked that night of all nights to start malfunctioning. Thank God the kid’s room’s unit was working hard, but ours, not so much. So I end up getting out of bed and sitting at the little table in the kitchenette while I drink a glass of something that ended up being more ice than water, just trying my best to cool down so I can get back to sleep. We had the flight home the next day, so I needed to be as sharp as possible so I didn’t screw up and lose boarding passes or whatever.
Now just so you know, the motel we were staying at was all bungalows, single story units in a horseshoe shape, and the one we were staying in happened to face the highway outside. I take a walk over the window to take one final look at the Florida night, like I loved vacationing there, and I totally understood why it’s the retirees destination of choice. But as I’m looking out through the blinds, I see something out there that makes my jaw drop. Outside, silhouetted by the street lights outside, standing still as a statue over near the highway, is this really obviously Micky Mouse shape; the big circular ears, oversized hands, the works. I actually say like “no effing way, man” out loud to myself, as the realization hits me. That knock off Mickey Mouse guy from Orlando had somehow figured out where we were staying.
Okay so, I have no idea how the hell he managed to work that out, it’s something I still think about from time to time. But the only concrete thing I have in mind is that, when not wearing that suit, he could’ve looked like just about anyone, so he could’ve followed us all the way back to the motel on foot or in a car or something, and I’d have had no idea we were even being stalked. But like I said, since we left Florida the next day and I only talked to the Cops down there one time, I’ve absolutely no definite answers on how that guy found us.
Anyway, so I just find myself rushing back to the kitchenette to grab a knife from the drawer. Which might seem like something of an overreaction to some of you, but I can’t overstate the fear I was feeling at that moment. Something happens when you’re a Dad, something where you’re just not willing to roll the dice with your kid’s safety. So whatever was about to happen, there was no way I was going into it with just my fists. So, knife in hand, I rush back to the window and look out, to see that no one is there anymore. Note that I say ‘no one’ and not ‘nothing’, because lying in the parking lot, about a hundred metres closer to the motel room, is the entire knock off Mickey Mouse costume, just lying there on the tarmac. I’m just staring at the thing in terror for a moment, like ‘this guy just stripped off his costume in about fifteen seconds, and is now nowhere to be seen’. Then what happened next is like something out of a horror movie. I’m checking the peripheries of the parking lot, trying to spot the guy, when BOOM, he appears right in front of the window and bangs his head (yeah, his actual head) onto the glass window so hard I thought it would knock the entire pane out. I almost had a heart attack right there, and whatever yelpy-scream-wail I made when the guy appeared immediately woke up the wife and kids up.
I tell the missus to get into the kids room, lock the door behind her and call the Cops, which after a few terrified questions pertaining to just what the hell was going on, she did.
I’m guessing the window pane was like security glass or something, because this guy (who by the way, was completely naked from head to toe) couldn’t seem to break it no matter what he threw at it; fists, forehead, whatever, it just boomed and shook in the frame. The whole time I’m just waving the knife at him and shouting “the Cops are on their way, the Cops are on their way!”, the second of which he seems to respond to far more than the former. But still, he switches his attentions to the door, trying to bash it open as I rush over to the kid’s room and ask my wife if the Cops have sent anyone yet. I hear her respond with a ‘yes’, and by the time I get back to the window, the banging as stopped, and the empty Mickey suit is gone from the parking lot. I just watched that parking lot until I saw the blue flashing lights approaching, and only then was I really able to breathe properly.
I gave statements to the cops who arrived, told them all about the earlier interaction I had with the guy, and figured it would be pretty easy for them to find a guy who would be butt naked if he didn’t have this huge Mickey Mouse suit on. But like I said, it wasn’t like we were there for much longer, and the next day we caught the plane back home to Maine and back to reality. I had to get on the phone to Orlando PD to see if there had been any developments at all, which to my surprise, there hadn’t been. There hadn’t been a single arrest relating to the incident that night, despite having questioned several Disney cast members, both current and former. I know that might seem like a really anticlimactic way to end the story, that no one was caught, nothing was resolved, and I have absolutely no revelatory or illuminating piece of info to share to make you all be like “oh my god the call was coming from INSIDE THE HOUSE!!”. But that really is where the story ends, the guy found us, he terrorized us, then we left Florida. I suppose I can end by saying that I’m looking forward to going back at some point, when the kids are older and they’ve no interest in going to Disneyland; but definitely not anytime soon, and definitely not to downtown Orlando.
submitted by LetsRead_YouTube to LetsReadOfficial [link] [comments]


2020.10.10 23:19 forestcabin123k Bridezilla Karen ends up looking like a pauper at her own wedding

I (F48) have known “Pat” (F48) for decades. As far as I can remember, she was fixated on having 5 children and a picket fence dream life. I slowly cut ties with her in college because she was an opportunist and I didn’t trust her. She is both manipulative and forceful. Her idea of cute rubs me the wrong way. Pat likes to walk like a penguin when she wants to elicit pity, and she usually does this when she wants to evoke the underdog narrative. I’ve never seen someone act so despicable and ridiculous at the same time.
I moved on with my life. Happily got rid of her for years. Pat eventually found me on facebook. I accepted her friend request out of politeness.
Pat has become the epitome of a permissive mother. Her (5) kids do as they please and she never calls them out. She tried to force a relationship between me and her daughters and made them call me Auntie. Pat tried to drop them at my house uninvited. Her phone calls were insistent, she tried to monopolize my time and she began to show up at my job. I created some boundaries so she tried to find loopholes. It was a nightmare.
My husband and I hosted a party for the community center (not the real name) new members. The community center is actually a very informal initiative and my husband and I mainly serve the homeless population. We prefer to help strangers instead of catering to potentially narcissistic acquaintances. We don't mind lending a hand but we have encountered truly dishonest choosing beggars.
There are other services, like one of the members who helps women get their wedding and prom dresses for free.The community center location “headquarters” is actually a farm owned by an elderly couple. There is a barn, a venue and a very nice green field with an artificial lake and some fowl. They charge for the use of their facilities (weddings , etc.) but not for community oriented stuff.
Pat had always been salty at her husband for demanding that she go back to work after baby #3. In the meantime, he worked three jobs. She demanded he get her pregnant to fulfill her dream of having 5 kids. He didn’t agree, because he was already nearly 45 and felt like he might never be able to retire. She got away with bringing new babies into this world anyway. Her fascination with being pregnant comes from all the attention she gets. She had at least one miscarriage in between each kid.
Pat latched on to our group. She never missed any of our activities. I hated having her in my house, but it was an open invitation that included virtually everyone and she was very active as an event organizer. I didn’t like the way her kids behaved. We have a designated area for parties and entertainment, but her kids ended up inside my bedroom. We ended up having to keep watch of them and enjoyed zero of our own party.
I called her days later to get my point across (regarding their overall behavior) but she completely cut me off and began talking about herself and said her kids wanted to come visit again and use our pool. I never answered that. I didn't want to say “no, I will not have your brats over”.
She also called me as summer was approaching specifically to let me know her middle daughter was bored and wanted to spend a WEEK at our home. I politely declined, citing that me and my husband have to work and cannot entertain guests. .
Pat paid no heed. Her kid called me on the weekend,calling me “auntie” and attempted to coax me by saying “Mom says you invited me to spend SUMMER with you”. I quickly clarified, and offered an explanation to avoid hurting a kid’s self esteem. Nevermind. Her daughter just hung up on me.
Pat’s facebook also showed some red flags. Some cryptic rants here and there were visible, along with friends’ comments and complaints on how she asked a particular person to watch her kids only for a couple of hours and ended up leaving them all day. Another of her friends criticized her “girls night out “ because Pat had just asked them to be patient and wait until she could pay back some money that she owed them, yet she had money to spend on Friday night outings. I thought those very public comments on private matters were more like a cry of lost patience.
Unpleasant things began to happen. Like the time she volunteered to wrap the Xmas presents for underprivileged kids. We all wanted to create a mix of less costly gifts with really nice ones. Surprisingly, some nice and eye-catching toys and games went missing but turned up under her Christmas Tree (courtesy of her mother in law’s FB posts). No one could prove anything but it was hate-inducing. Or the time my daughter called me in tears to pick her up after she attended Pat’s daughter’s birthday (Casey). My daughter had been ignored all night because she didn’t gift her the expensive gaming stuff Casey practically demanded. My daughter did ask, but I said no. We would buy her a very nice and thoughtful present according to her taste. So when I went to pick her up my daughter was sitting alone in the living room while Casey and her friends stayed outside.
Stories about Pat and her family multiplied. The owners at the farm (community center) decided keep their their gates locked unless they had guests or events because Pat got in the habit of driving in whenever she pleased and it was either her kids screaming and disturbing on-going weddings, throwing rocks at the koi in the lake or harassing the geese in the yard. Or how she stiffed another soccer mom with the lunch bill and then pulled the struggling financially card. Or how other parents hated her because she created unnecessary hostile competition.
When my daughter turned 13, I allowed her to wear my grandma’s ring. It's not an expensive piece of jewelry, but it's vintage and girls nowadays wanna look boho. My Granny gave it to me when I became a teenager so I passed it on to my kid so she could wear it on her birthweek.
It was weird that she became quiet and distracted after that. She also didn’t want to go to school and my husband and I became suspicious. She never opened up, and my other kids had no clue.
We went to her school but her teachers assured us nothing had changed in her environment. My husband and I suspected she was being bullied but our kid gave us no tools to support her. My kid is very sunny, and very compassionate. She has never had any problems with other kids. I called her best friend’s mom. Natalie, my kid’s BFF, told us what was going on. Casey (Pat’s eldest) and my daughter had become “close”. I knew this and wasn’t too thrilled. I found the age (Casey was 17) gap not exactly inappropriate but I’d rather see my daughter spend time with friends in the same age range. Casey is very beautiful and a gifted student. She is also very conceited. To make this story short, she asked my daughter if she could try on the ring and refused to give it back. She later claimed that she lost it but “would look for it” so my daughter was distraught. My daughter kept asking for her ring and as a result, Casey shunned her and spread the word that my kid was trying to steal HER ring. Some kids at school took Casey’s side. So now Casey just wore my kid’s jewelry to school like nothing happened. If that doesn’t qualify as taunting I don't know what does.
My guilt comes from not being able to get my daughter to open up and feel safe telling me the truth. I talked to her and she burst into tears. I was both pained as a mother and furious that some teenage b!tch was doing this under our noses.
I went straight to Pat’s car after school. I asked to talk as Casey was about to go in. So I grabbed Casey’s hand and asked to see her jewelry. Casey froze and she tried to make a fist, so I became relentless. Casey yelled “Mom!” and Pat struggled to get out of the car. I slid the ring off (Casey has tiny hands and wore the ring on her index finger). First Pat yelled at me. After I confronted her with the engraving on the band (my grandma's maiden name), she argued it was loaned to her daughter by my kid. Then she said she bought it. I paid no heed. I did warn them that I knew Casey had become an abusive friend to my daughter.
Pat called me to tell me off. She said she was trying to raise an assertive young woman and I had just messed that up by being “overbearing”. She never apologized for her thief of a child.
Pat's husband ( Hank) is what can be described as a doormat. Pat wore him down to a knob. He had no choice but to “obey” her to keep the peace. She was a bully who actively withdrew affection when he didn’t follow her wishes, even in public. So she got kids #4 and #5 after a relentless campaign that included leaving him for two months. Her pregnancies were a nuisance because she expected to be treated like the only lady who has even been pregnant. She strolled around in a wheelchair almost immediately after getting pregnant and she would “get very sick” on weekends, so her kids were often sent to friends and family so that she could “rest”.
Pat systematically bullied Hank. She would leave town and take the kids with her. Poor Hank would look distraught, drinking on his porch or just looking really lonely. This is how she got off the hook and was able to leave her job. Hank had virtually no voice, so he struggled to keep the marriage together. Everyone liked him, but hated her equally. Hank loved to talk to other people but seemed concerned that Pat would be upset. Over time, according to my husband, Hank began to show signs of depression and mental distress.
Our friend, Lenah, runs the wedding/prom dress initiative. It's not complicated. Dresses are sourced from donations, ebay, trunk shows, etc. Unusually beautiful dresses are retained so that more than one bride gets to wear them. In some cases, a bride will pay 50 bucks, but most of the time, the dresses are donated to the bride.
Pat was involved in this. Lenah kept her in because they never had any issues and her task was limited to just shipping the dresses out.
Pat decided to renew her vows and her bridezilla Karenzilla attitude became the icing on the cake. For starters, she bullied another couple into giving up their wedding date at the farm because she “needed her renewal to match her exact wedding date”. They were not impressed with her harassment, so they booked another venue. As a result, the farm owners were pissed because Pat was already costing them money after she had successfully negotiated a cut in their rate “because she couldn't afford it but will repay by doing maintenance work around the venue” (she never made good on her word).
Pat became attached to a particular dress that was already assigned to another bride. Lenah made it clear that she would need to pay for her own dress. So Pat played it cool and shipped the wrong gown instead. She was adamant that it was the right dress, despite all the notes on Leah’s agenda. The other bride was truly gracious about it. She was obviously disappointed, but never made a scene.
What bothered me most is that I picked that dress and bought it for 40 bucks at a garage sale (not my money, Leah’s money). It was a vintage dress, ankle length, white with lots of lace and a huge bargain. Again, when confronted, Pat “did a Casey” and used the “this is mine” strategy. We felt so bad for the other bride that we did our best to get her something nice to wear. The other bride was a true fighter, she had pulled out of welfare, earned her high school diploma and was working to get on her feet by trying to earn a certificate as an acrylic nail technician. So, her reward was to have some Karen steal her dress? Pat never admitted to messing up, but just by the fact that she claimed it was her dress, we knew.
Lenah never allowed her in her warehouse again. Their last phone fight ended with Pat bringing up the other bride’s past (like it mattered) and “this conversation is over, it's my dress and you are mistaken”. That was weeks before the other bride’s wedding.
Pat went all out on her wedding decor. She spent way too much. She hired a caterer for some food (mainly mimosas and appetizers), but the wedding invitation included a request for specific dishes for her Sunday brunch wedding. Either she ran out of banquet money or was on a complete moocher mode.I picture the penguin walking upon practically asking everyone to supply her wedding reception grub and I cringe.
There is nothing wrong with potluck weddings. In fact, they can be a nice addition to a very cozy and family oriented wedding reception. But, don’t you need to at least be close to your guests in order to ask for such a thing? Even I got an invitation. I told everyone I wasn’t going because I was very uncomfortable being told what to bring and was probably expected to give them a cash gift on top of that. Some of the older ladies in our group agreed. Some said they would not decline in advance because she is a bully and they didn’t want a confrontation.
Lenah called me the night before Pat’s re-wedding. Lenah was there to close the Saturday night bingo and Pat was awfully friendly, but that’s what she does whenever things are going her way. Lenah peeked into the garment bag and saw the exact same dress while Pat was caught up supervising the wedding decoration.
The thing with Karens is that they expect everyone to suck it up, or make their dreams come true, or they simply underestimate everyone and think we are all fools.
Lenah is a very straightforward person with a “so sue me” attitude. She told me she would just ruin the dress. After all, it was hers, so she could do whatever she wanted. If Pat wanted to take legal action, and should things get ugly, she needed to prove ownership. However, the dress was the same, the marks inside the hem and the tags were the same. Even the tag numbers that were punched to identify each dress for logistics purposes matched.
Pat had the dress altered, with some extra beading and dyed to a deep cream color. But it was obviously the same garment. Lenah and I snuck in before the venue was closed for the night. All brides are allowed to stay in a small bedroom for a small charge, so that they don’t need to drive in on their wedding day. Honestly, the makeshift chapel was gorgeous, I don’t know how she paid for it but it was full of flowers and presumptuous details. I naively brought in some ink to spill on the dress, but Lenah said she wanted “something more awful, like a nasty surprise”. Ink would be too obvious and if she saw it ahead, she may be able to snag another gown from somewhere. No, the ideal thing was to have her trust the dress was fine. So Lenah locked herself in a bathroom stall and completely cut out the back panel. She patiently put it back on its hanger and zipped the bag. We left through the emergency door with the back of the dress stuffed inside Lenah's purse. I completely hate people who target and steal from anyone they (Pat and her kid) calculate to be in a weaker position.
The wedding was scheduled at 9 AM. Pat called me at 7 AM, but I ignored her calls. I picked up by 8 AM, both curious and wondering if she suspected anything. Pat was frantic.She was crying that her dress was “missing by half”. I purposely made her explain, being annoyingly dense and continually interrupting like she does, and stalling the conversation. She asked me if I could lend her my wedding dress. I said no, sorry. She then asked me if I would help her get a dress. I was satisfied to remind her that the town's bridal shops were closed on Sunday and the others that would open were almost an hour away. The farm is already almost one hour away from our town.
If Pat could get a shop to rent a dress, she would need to try the dress on, and get it steamed. Even if the dress was ready to wear, it would easily take more than two hours (roundtrip). She tried to ask me to go pick a dress (who would pay for this??). Even if a shop were open and brought her a dress, it would add to the cost. Also, these shops open at 10 or 9:30 at earliest. By time they got to her, it would be time to wrap up the wedding because she needed to clear the venue by 12:00 for the next event.
She broke down and mumbled some stupid stuff I didn't understand. So Pat hung up on me and called Lenah instead.. She asked Lenah to bring her “anything she had available”. Lenah and I ended up delivering the most outdated, moss smelling, oversized dressed. Pat’s disappointment was a mix between angry and emotional. She also tried to wear her knee length silk bridal slip as a wedding dress but it was too obvious and it really looked cheap. She tried to get her daughter to give her her own dress to wear with an open back zipper (due to fitting issues) but Casey refused, asking if she was supposed to attend the wedding naked (she got a point, plus Casey is petite).
The dress needed a petticoat to plump up the skirt, which wasn’t available. So it dragged all over the floor and Pat had to keep pulling it up. Pat walked down the aisle with one hand on her bouquet and another one grabbing her dress. The dress looked limp and weird with the arrangements of pins (they didn’t show) that caused the sleeves and neckline to pucker into messy rims. She spent the ceremony looking uncomfortable and out of place. Very few people attended but that was not part of any revenge, that was just how people reacted to her entitled attitude.
The dress looked awful. The reception portion of the wedding had all this princely decoration, a very nice cake and a bridezilla with a dress from hell. I didn’t stay, but I was told, she was so disappointed she spent her wedding sulking. There was no dance, no actual speech. She had to change into a shirt and leggings because the dress was too uncomfortable. Everyone talked about how Pat put on her flip flops and walked around aimlessly until she ordered the ushers to start folding up the chairs within one hour of the reception. So she practically kicked everyone out and the cake was never cut.
Pat wasn’t the same after this.She was not as loud and avoided everyone. I think she was disappointed that nobody ran to her rescue, not even her family who came from out of town.
Her husband finally cracked under all the pressure and sought some help. He was slaving away and coming home to clean the house while Pat used her kids as an excuse to spend like crazy. Hank also had to do kid homework because Pat never had time or never had patience. She also refused to get a partime job so her kids could attend an afterschool and get help with their school stuff. Therapy seemed to help Hank because the last time Pat left with her kids, he didn't seem distraught. He would be riding his bicycle and could be seen more relaxed while mowing his lawn. Hank told my husband that he had contemplated suicide after their third kid. When Pat returned, he maintained the routine but was interested in going out by himself and doing things for himself. We began to see Pat alone all the time. Hank was seen less and less in the same car and eventually moved in with his parents. He filed for divorce on the grounds of emotional cruelty and I don't think he won. Instead (I’m not sure of this because this is what I was told) there was some sort of a settlement or agreement that she would not get close or interact with him unless it has to do with the kids).
I also don’t know if Pat even actually suspected who/what happened to her dress. She slowly pulled away from the community center and became less active in social gatherings. Pat also removed me from her facebook as well as mostly everyone else from school and the center.
EDIT: TLDR
Bridezilla stole a wedding dress from an underprivileged woman. The actual dress owner destroys her big day.
EDIT: Regarding my kid, there were no prior incidents. Pat, her family and my family were not "friends'. I did see her often. After Casey's birthday incident, there we no additional situations until what happened with the ring. After that, Casey played the "OP treated me badly" card because I physically removed the ring from her hands but I honestly don't feel I need to protect her emotions.
EDIT: THANKS to everyone who took their time to read. Thanks for the nice and kind comments and even the naysayers or aggressive ones. I understand we are all different and some situations can seem enraging or so difficult we instantly want to fix it by reacting or by reproaching. Its human nature to instantly go for "this is what should have happened instead". I appreciate your input. Even the mocking, raging and scrutinizing ones show me indignation and this is good. No one has yet said "I love what Pat did" and that shows we are still striving for a more fair and balanced life. Even the snyde comments show me this has gotten under your skin and I try not to judge. The lovely and supportive Redditors who have shown kindness are also very appreciated.
For the most accurate description, these links can help you get an idea. Not the actual dresses, but extremely close.
What she thought she would wear down the aisle: (shorter sleeve, no train, only ankle-length)
https://www.amyprom.com/products/see-through-scoop-beach-lace-wedding-dresses-long-sleeve-romantic-boho-wedding-dress-bridal-gowns-amy3003
What she got, oversized, outdated. Actually, the dress was even bigger.
https://www.etsy.com/listing/294506251/etsy-wedding-romantic-lace-wedding-dress?utm_source=Pinterest&utm_medium=PageTools&utm_campaign=Share&utm_term=so.lp.d2.v1&share_time=1530444138000
submitted by forestcabin123k to ProRevenge [link] [comments]