Naked mom

2014.05.22 15:41 dunkelweiss Mom naked

Subreddit for everything related to Blindspot, a television series currently airing on NBC.

2020.10.25 18:53 cleanyourbedroomboy Naked mom

The winds of winter made their way through the ruthless winter land, burying the world in thick cloaks of snow. The white landscape stretched eternally, as did its vast emptiness.
A deep red spot stood out, and as I went further, my presence being marked by the footprints left in the snow, I saw more bits and pieces. Chunks of flesh, and splashes of blood. And before I knew it, I was at the centre of it all.
Ahead on this tale of flesh and blood, my mother stood at a distance. Naked as the day she was born and yet I felt no feelings about that ill sight. I felt nothing at all. Her skin was pruned, and her body seemed slightly bloated. Her hair was damp, clinging to her head and neck. The hissing colds had not moved her.
Unintelligible sounds of a radio, or a television were right behind my ears, and even though I didn’t look for around, I somehow knew that I wouldn’t find anything; it was coming from me, I was the source.
“Y…W….” My mother tried to speak as an endless fall of water gushed through her mouth, making her words sound gargled, and forcing her to keep whatever she was trying to tell me brief. “F…. E…”
My eyes opened to a dark room, lit only by a tint of blue; pulling me back to reality. I reached across my bed to the bedside table for a glass of water.
I was strangely calm. I stopped counting after the seventh time I had this exact same dream. There was no pattern to them, no specific day or occasion I saw it. It was so spontaneous, I had no time to prepare myself for seeing it, and after such a long time I had gotten used to it. Yet, despite the many times I saw this particular dream, I had never been aware of it as a dream in my sleep. It felt real even though I had every little detail memorised.
I tried to write it down to try and look for any special meaning behind it, yet, I was only left with a page describing my inability to move on from the death of my mother eleven years ago.
I checked my phone for the time.
4:00 A.M.
Still a long way before my day starts.
I stared at the ceiling; a million shadows born from the blue lamp looked back down at me. Strangely, they never looked as sinister anymore as they did all those years ago. If anything, their distance from me must be because they had feared me too.
I had a couple hours to kill before I get out of bed, and tonight, since the dream had decided to wake me up early, while it was still dark outside, I had nothing to do but think such thoughts that would usually dictate my mood for the day.
I wondered if there was an afterlife, and if there was one, I was pretty sure my mother would’ve been in the good place. Well, unless it was a suicide as it was suggested for a while. And if so, was this kind and sweet woman burning in the basements for one final slip? And if so, do I have to be sinful to get to see her again?
They say that when a person is depressed, they perceive time to go slower, and even though I cannot say I was depressed, I certainly wasn’t happy. But time went faster for me. I felt like I was back in bed, the instant I stepped out of it.
I dreaded coming back home, and especially to bed, even though this was not the same house it all happened in. My father had us all move out of the house, after a failed lawsuit against the funeral home for the cruel prank. However, there was no proof found that the body was toyed with before the mortician had done his work. And when eyebrows began to be raised at my own family, dad decided to let go.
I checked the clock again, and it was almost time for work. Like I said, time went by fairly quickly.
I turned the lamp off, pressing my thumb on the light switch and then, as was a daily ritual now, I thought to myself, “let there be light!” And there was light.
The sunlight couldn’t make it into the room since I had taped the windows in my room shut. Even the idea of accidentally looking into one of them still made me anxious.
I didn’t buy the local newspaper anymore. This wasn’t an interesting town, with interesting things happening. This place didn’t even have an interesting history for fuck’s sake. The local news was my only source of information.
“…And her parents now stand in front of the local police station with signboards as you can see, demanding a more serious investigation.”
On my way to school, I drove by another wave of “MISSING PERSON” Posters put up by desperate relatives.
Elizabeth Grimes, 14. The second person to go missing in the last three months. She attended the school I worked at, and yet, I somehow never knew her until she had a picture of her stapled to every wall, pole, tree and even the news wouldn’t talk about anything else. She was the only thing everyone seemed interested in talking about, and yet, the town still didn’t manage to come up with a single fucking clue about whatever happened to her. One day she was there, the next day it was as if she had never existed.
Marcus Piper, 19. No one really cared about his disappearance much, until his successor, Elizabeth made news. This one, I knew very well. Piper was trouble, and I had even heard that he was involved in some sketchy stuff. He didn’t attend school anymore, opting to drop out and somehow manage with whatever he was involved in. But that was until he disappeared. No compassionate words were said about him. There was talk of him being involved with the wrong people, but died out pretty quickly.
But the thing about these two was, even though there was no reason to believe that their disappearances were related, no one had a fucking clue about what happened. Like I said about Elizabeth, he was there until he wasn’t. As if he never existed. And now, there seems to be nothing in existence, nothing to suggest where they are if they are alive, and what happened to them. And that led me to wonder what my disappearance would change. Dangerous ideas. Best not to dwell on things like this.
“Morning Mr. Vale!” Mathis said. The bus driver always had the gentlest and kindest of smiles; something that I secretly looked forward to seeing everyday.
“Mr. Ray.” I replied. I noticed his black, somewhat warm jacket, “Winter is on its way, I see that you’re ready for that already.”
The older man laughed, “You’re very observant, that’s why they made you a teacher!”
I smiled back, nodding, going into the school building to start my day.
The class was so unenthusiastic and distracted the entire time I scribbled numbers and explained operations to them, I felt like I might as well be teaching a graveyard. Yet, I knew yelling at them or even calling one of them out to give them that jolt they needed would only make them resent coming to my class. Though I haven’t been in prison, I’m pretty sure word gets around in schools much faster, and eventually, they’d hate the subject as much as me.
And eventually, I had enough of the grave, tired looks on everyone’s faces, and I went to my desk, and slanted back to face the class.
“Alright well…I think that’s plenty for today. I can’t carry on with you guys looking like statues.”
I hadn’t been with this batch for long, and I’m pretty sure most of them heard mixed things about me.
“If anyone has any questions, feel free to come up, and if you don’t, just…don’t make a lot of noise.”
My time as a teacher had made me more observant when it came to people. The kids usually divided themselves into groups, and you could usually tell who belong to which group based on where they sat.
In the evening, instead of going home, I decided to spend the last day before the weekend elsewhere.
My sister answered the door. Boy, she’s almost as tall as me now, I thought. Her new dog, a rather large German Shepherd was by her side, wagging its tail and jumping at the smell of fresh food.
Relieving me of the two large pizzas I carried, she led the way in, her dog following closely. I still hadn’t gotten used to this place. The air of familiarity a home brings, this place certainly lacked. But then again maybe it was so because I wasn’t living here with them. Yet, seeing my family here made me feel otherwise.
I ruffled her hair while she sat on the couch in front of a movie, a large slice in her hand, she slapped it away, said a few words with her mouth full, and I picked a box and went past her to the dining room.
Dad sat at the head of the table; his eyes were focused through his glasses on a book placed on the table. We all found different ways to fill the emptiness after mom passed. For my sister it was her obsession with movies, and for dad it was his books. As for me, well, the dreams I had certainly filled that void.
“The author certainly has no clue how to write a good villain.” My father said.
Placing the box next to him, I took a seat. “Hello dad.”
“Well he certainly had lived a comfortable life, the author. A person must really feel pain if he wants to write someone menacing.”
He finally looked up to me, pushing his glasses away, “Dan! How’s the school?”
“It’s all messy, you know, since the girl went missing.”
He nodded, still scanning me with his eyes. He did that often when he wanted to know more,
“Well…everyone has been so grim, and… everything is so, so gloomy. It’s not really somewhere I could teach I think.”
“So, you’re gonna quit? Hm?”
“I’m not going to quit; you didn’t let me finish.”
“Let me tell you something son. Do you still board up your windows?”
“Don’t lie to me boy, I’ll know, trust me.”
I didn’t have to tell him anything. He sighed, shaking his head.
“We have all been through a hard time. I know that. I was in a dark place for a long time after…after that happened… but it cannot stay like this forever. Are you still afraid of bloody cats Dan?
“Well dad, it’s Friday, why don’t-“
My dad looked at me with those cold eyes of his, I felt a chill build up inside me. He opened his mouth to say something, and then he thought over it before he changed his mind.
“I don’t even know why I bothered to come.” I said, shifting my chair, ready to leave. “It’s a wonder Ellen managed with you so long.”
I clenched my fists, I felt bolder with everything I said. “Ever since mom died, you have made damn sure that I am reminded of her absence in this house, because you’re so cold and bloody distant all the time!”
I finished, my anger cooling down and my senses coming back. My father never said a word. Instead, he stared at me from the top of his glasses. I dreaded this. His silence was far more threatening than his anger ever had been. His face remained stoic, and stern as if he was carved right out of stone.
“Your mother,” He said, “Never should have died.”
I breathed out, feeling a sudden heaviness in my chest, knowing exactly what he was talking about.
I heard the splashing of water all over again, and all of a sudden, I was the same 18-year-old kid standing in an empty dark hallway, armed with only a night, and faced by a demon in the form of a naked old woman.
“I…” My dad said, his eyes now down, sinking low under a weight of either guilt or regret. “I’m sorry Dan… I know you must have been-”
But the damage had been done, I stormed out of the room, passing along my sister who rubbed her fingers with tissues, her head following my path.
I sat in my car, leaning forward and gripping the wheel. My teeth gritted against itself, and I felt the urge to scream rising up my throat. A deep inhale later, I managed to bury it.
No tears came, I had shed enough for that night, and probably for years to come as well. I was just, angry, but I can’t really tell at whom. My dad? Myself? It wasn’t my dad who killed her, and it certainly wasn’t me. But there was someone else who did it.
But there was someone. Someone I saw do it. Something that wasn’t bound by the laws of this world. Something my dad and sister never know killed my mother. And if I was angry at her, what could I even do about it?
I looked straight ahead. Shadows and shapes danced in the moonlight. Perhaps there was a cat there somewhere, or worse. But everywhere I looked, I saw the old lady’s shape, hiding just in the right spot so as to torment my sanity.
“Fuck…you.” I muttered, trying to muster up courage. I felt tense, almost as if I was awaiting an answer. I wouldn’t turn on the lights. My hand anxiously tapped on the dashboard, awaiting to put the shadows in the car away, and yet I waited. If I don’t turn these lights on now, I win. I thought to myself. But win what? My mother back?
The passenger side door opened suddenly and I jumped, feeling spikes of ice reach up and pierce through my chest.
“Relax… it’s just me Braveheart.” Ellen said.
“I thought you could use some company.” She said, “And there’s some pizza left.” She said, opening the box to me, which I turned away.
“Dan…” She placed a hand on my shoulder, “Look, you have to talk about it.”
A brief image of the night flashed in my mind once again.
“Please…just let it go. I can talk about it with you. It helps, trust me Dan please!” She said softly, trying to get me to open up.
I sighed. Preparing myself mentally to release a ghost I had locked in a silver box for years. “Was there ever anything strange about the house?” I asked her.
“Well… strange how?”
“Like um…haunted.”
“Haunted?” She asked, trying to act sympathetic, but I could sense the hint of unease in her voice.
“Never mind.”
“No please, whatever it is, just tell me. I won’t… I won’t tell anyone.”
“The night mom was killed- “
“Died you mean.”
“No, killed. I mean killed. I watched it happen.” I said, now feeling lumps forming in my stomach. I felt like the more I would talk about it, the more I shrunk. “I don’t know what to say…”
“Well if you just-“
“Stop… I cant-“
“No well just say-“
“I will understand I prom-“
“I SAW A FUCKING GHOST!” I yelled, frightening my little sister, who crawled back into the seat, as if curling up into a tiny bundle.
“I…” I said, more softly, “I saw a ghost Ellen. I saw it with my own eyes. It went right through the bathroom door.” It was getting harder to speak. My throat was constructing on itself, “Mom was in there…I think she was…”
The haunting tune of the song my mother hummed that night came into my mind, and for a moment I was sure I could actually hear it whispered right into my ear.
I looked back slowly, so as to not startle my sister. The poor girl was probably scared enough as it is.
“Mom was humming this…some old song or something.” I said, now looking right ahead. Her gaze felt a lot harder to face right now. I felt like her eyes were the light of judgement, and I, a horrible sinner had run out of lies.
“I saw this thing. I had seen it before too once… but that night, it looked at me.” I was debating whether to describe it to her or to keep it vague, “It looked like an old woman. It went into the bathroom, and immediately I heard mom struggling. I…” I felt warmth run down my cheek as a tear began to make its way. “I couldn’t stop it…I couldn’t even fucking move.”
We sat in silence for a while.
“Mom knows I could’ve saved her… I think she does. I see her in my dreams sometimes…” I turned to face her; her eyebrows sunk low as if I had been telling her that dad had passed as well. Not that it would’ve been so bad anyway. “Fuck.” I immediately cursed myself for that thought. “Well… you remember that story she told us…that story about the skeletons and…”
“In my dreams, she is in that place…or at least what I imagined it to be like. She haunts me in my dreams Ellen. She tells me things, choking with water…the exact same sounds I heard when she died.”
Ellen didn’t say a word. She looked down, breathing deeply as if trying to fully comprehend the nightmare I had unloaded.
“Well…could it have been your imagination?”
“No. I’m sure of that.” That was the first time I had admitted it.
“Sometimes at night…when she visits me in my dreams…I don’t know what she’s trying to tell me. I don’t know what could be worse…. her blaming me for letting her die like a fucking coward or the fact that no matter what I do, I cant give her justice. How do you kill something that is already dead?” I said in a low voice, almost a whisper.
She stared ahead, frowning. I couldn’t tell if she was holding back tears, and if she was, she was doing a pretty good job of it.
Without a word, she let herself out, and softly shut the door, walking round the front of my car and then to my side, tapping softly on the window.
I lowered it, and she leaned in, using both her hands to hold my head while she planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Goodnight.” She said, walking through the dark, and reaching the well light of my dad’s house. She turned to look at me one last time, but I had already started on my way.
The thoughts of the night haunted me the entire way home. Like a swarm of lost wraiths, they swam around me; testing my will and toying with my sanity. The old woman’s hideous face came back to me as well. I tried to blink away the thoughts, and yet, they didn’t go away. They were persistent.
My car came to a stop at the light. Straight, was the way back home. And in the stillness of the night, and the lonliness of the road, my personal ghosts clasped their hands together, and danced in a circle around me. Every hair on my body stood up and a shiver ran down my spine.
I thought at a point I heard the whisper of my mother’s voice. I turned to the back seat, expecting nothing, and finding nothing. Yet, I felt something. As if I wasn’t alone anymore. Well, apart from the swarm of wraiths of my own making, there was a presence far more…powerful.
And there was some presence on the backseat, something that had been there when I wasn’t looking. Just as my sister’s presence slowly faded from the passenger seat, I felt another, fresher something lurking in the back.
I abruptly turned my car left on the fortunately idle road, and road left. There was no way in hell these things were going home with me.
I knew that the left turn wasn’t an accident. The spirits hurried behind me, following my path, unaware of the place I was taking them. Or maybe they were aware, and that’s what had got them so excited. I felt more shivers run down my back. I breathed out a tiny mist, the car got colder as I got close.
No one would be here at this hour. Perfect. Yet, it also was probably the most horrifying thing I had decided to do.
The house wasn’t sold. No one brought it after the news of my mother’s death spread, and especially after the horror at the funeral.
“Come on…let’s take you back home.”
I stepped through the door, which barely posed any resistance anymore, and into the darkness of my own place of torment, ready to face my own personal hell, and the demon that lived in it.
The flashlight of my phone was my guide through the darkness. Now that I was in here, I felt a complete and absolute silence, and loneliness. I told myself that I was the house itself; I was everything in the house, from attic to basement. I was devoid of any residents, save for rats, bugs and terrible graffiti on the wall, poorly drawn swastikas and the number 666 making more appearances than any other. How original.
The stairs creaked as I went up, and then, before I could take the final step, I paused.
That corner.
Now, the thousand arms of fear held me in an ugly embrace. The feelings I had brought to dump here were all frightened by whatever awaited me in that damn corner. Something awful was there. And right ahead of it, was the bathroom.
The darkness was alive in there; I could smell how awful it was. Crawling and feasting on the remains of the light, and whatever poor critter and been unfortunate enough to take refuge in there.
It was strange…I almost felt like I could hear a thousand legs on something in there, and the buzz it made as it feasted.
I backed away slowly, almost loosing my footing on the stairs and falling off.
Fuck this…fuck all this.
I bolted down the stairs. I felt an enormous pair of jaws open behind me, hissing as the dark tried to claim me as well, but I stumbled out of the house in time, spotting my car right ahead of me.
My heart was beating faster than ever, my chest could only take so much before it broke through. It hammered and banged, and I felt the pain of true fear, a pain I hadn’t experienced in a while as I made my way to my car, crashing into someone and almost falling face first onto the ground.
The woman fell, and I, in a panic, halted for a moment, as my mind tried to make sense of this chaos. I went on my way, turning back one last time to make the woman to be Mrs. Samson, a woman who had been our neighbour all those years back, as well as a PTA member at school.
She got a good look at my face too, but as I tried to say something, I felt lie my lips were stitched together, unable to part for a single word.
I tried to start the car, yet, it wouldn’t work. I tried again and again, but it wouldn’t budge.
I ran away, probably confusing Mrs. Samson dearly, and yet, even though I felt her piercing gaze on me, I ran. And I ran. And I ran.
I knew a place in this neighbourhood. Somewhere I could feel safe for a while. Somewhere I wouldn’t be alone.
I ponded like crazy on the door of the house in the far corner of the streets, where a recluse lived. Panting like a dog, and sweat staining my entire shirt, I probably wasn’t the best sight at this hour.
“Have you been running from the police?” Aunt Greta asked.
I walked in, and tossed my shoes aside, making my place on the couch, ensuring to face away from that treacherous window that started all this.
“How’s your dad? And your sister? God…you look…terrified. You had another one of those…uh…episodes again?”
“Water…” I managed between heavy breaths.
And suddenly, I didn’t feel her existence in the room with me anymore either. My legs and knees couldn’t take all that running, and now they were making it known by throbbing wildly.
Aunt Greta handed me a cold glass of water. Moisture spread like moss around the glass and as I drank, I thought I’d pass out from holding breath so long.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“I’m tired.”
“Well…you can stay the night, but I have work early.”
I nodded in understanding, though I doubted if she worked out of the house at all.
I assured her that the couch will do well, and with that, she left me to my peace, going indoors into her room to be alone again.
I was alone, with the lights on, and I knew that sleep wouldn’t come to me easy that night. I shook my body a bit, feeling uneasy at the thought of crawling legs. I unwillingly imagined all those tingling feet on me, slowly devouring me up too.
I dimmed the lights and turned the television on in her living room, placed the same way it had ever been. She wasn’t one for renovation. In fact, I really don’t know what she did with most of her time. At mom’s funeral she had come up at the very end along when the horrifying discovery had already been made. She didn’t seem one for comforting, but she sat with my sister’s head in her arms as she cried, while her brother, my dad, had an outburst.
Most late-night television was boring as hell, so I sat there aimlessly changing the channels, with the volume low to the point of unintelligibility, so as to not disturb my aunt.
I curled up on the couch, hoping that sleep would take me unaware, and I would wake to light, and a day less gloomy.
And then, when the television failed to grab my attention. A thought came to my mind. This is the place where two of my greatest fear had been conceived. I could still do what I had intended to do when I drove to the house. And here, I was in a safe place. I wasn’t in complete darkness, and so, I truly had nothing much to fear, do I? Just a look. A look and I can pat myself on the back.
With trembling hands, and eyes shut tight I raised myself in the direction of it. The sounds of television were still in my ears, almost like words of encouragement.
I took one step to it. And then another. I knew that this was to end one of two ways; I back away like a coward once again, or, I come back, stronger. Either way, I was here, in this house with my Aunt Greta, and I was safe.
I felt around for the wall, and then the blinds, and eventually I pushed through to touch the glass, which rattled at my touch, and continued to do so while my hand trembled.
I opened my eyes to face it, and whatever was behind it.
Heavy winds blew out there. Heavy winds, in a land with daylight. That was odd.
Snow covered the ground, and my curiosity took control, making me pull the window up. It truly was out there. A place of ice and heavy winds.
I reached a hand through it, feeling around for anything, only to feel by blood run cold, bitten by the harsh cold winds.
I tried to see if I could fit through, and that I did. This was no illusion….this was really happening.
I stepped onto the snow. Mountains everywhere in the distance, and perhaps I was on top of one myself.
I turned around to ensure that the house was still where it was, and sure enough, the entire house was right there, with snow moving excitedly to conceal it within itself.
I walked a bit.
Was this a dream? Was I finally aware of this being a dream?
I kept moving, the trail of footprints I left behind assured me of my way back, and I moved, with only slight hesitation in my hand. This was a land beyond my worst fear, a snowy land. A winter kingdom.
The further I stepped, the more snow I unearthed, I realised that there was a red blood underneath the clean snow. The further I went, the more blood came into appearance; blood that even the fresh snow failed to cover. I was in my dream, yet, somehow, I was awake.
The sounds of the television never grew faint, they stayed with me all the while, unintelligible, but ever present.
And in the far end of the snow, in a puddle of red blood, something floated.
I lifted the white key. It had a warmth to it, even in this landscape. Was I meant to take it? A unique carving presented itself on it, something that looked ancient and also delicate on the brittle substance. I rubbed my fingers amongst themselves, exploring the dampness of warm blood the key had sat in.
This was fresh.
Blood dripped from my hands, and a realisation came to me. This was carved from bone. And not only that, there was blood dripping right down it, along my arms. It produced its own stream of fresh blood.
I cupped my hands around it. Warm blood slowly filled my palms and it dripped down them.
The television sounds were in my ear again. There was a song playing in the background, some kind of jazz I assume, yet it was faint. What the fuck is happening.
I suddenly felt a pull and I was back on the couch again. It was still dark outside.
Someone knocked on the door. Who was here at this damn hour?
I stood up, yawning, and walked up to the door. Images from my dream still in my mind. That was…surreal.
I opened the door to see two men in uniforms.
“Daniel Vale?” He asked, stopping himself abruptly, and then his eyes went wide.
His partner withdrew his gun, aiming right at me, and he followed suit.
“Get on the ground!” He yelled, “Get on the fucking ground asshole!”
I complied, falling down on the ground, and gritting my teeth in confusion. One of them made their way behind me, securing me with a pair of handcuffs, while the other went into the house, gun pointed up.
He paced up and down the house.
The other officer, roughly pulled me up to my feet, and shoved me out the house, and into the back of the car.
I looked around, and finally down at myself. My clothes were stained with ridiculous amounts of blood.
The other officer eventually stepped out of the house, giving his partner a nervous shake of the head.
“Where’s the woman who lives here?” One of them asked, peering their head through the window, yet, I only heard an echo. I was beginning to fade again. This time, I felt like my sanity was slipping away too. I saw the face of my Aunt Greta flash before my eyes.
“Hey!” The officer asked again.
Mrs. Samson’s face was next, and then my sister…my father, and my mother. So, this was the last face I’d see before giving my sanity up? Fair enough. And then…to my utter horror, the face of the old woman came up, this time locked in a sinister toothless grin. Her ugly almost blading head, and her crooked nose, and awful skin, all of them presented themselves in vivid detail, before I lost my mind. And yet, this time the world didn’t go dark, and instead, I was forced to realise that I was in a living, waking, nightmare.
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2020.10.25 17:30 creature_fear12 Naked mom

Back again with over 150 new titles added since last week's sale
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. Also more than happy to work out a deal if you would like more than 5 titles!
All items grade at VG/VG or better unless otherwise noted
Here's the list!
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
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
Blood, Sweat & Tears - 3
Bloomfield/KoopeStills - Super Session
Tommy Bolin - Teaser
Jackson Browne - For Everyman
Roy Buchanan - You're Not Alone
Jimmy Buffett - Volcano
The Jon Butcher Axis - Along The Axis
The Call - Reconciled
The Call ‎– Into The Woods
Cher - S/T 2LP
Cher - Stars
Chicago - VI
Chicago ‎– Chicago At Carnegie Hall (Volumes I, II, III And IV) -- Counts as 2 LPs
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
Marshall Crenshaw - S/T
David Crosby/Graham Nash - Wind On The Water (Seams unglued)
David Crosby/Graham Nash - S/T
Rick Derringer - Live
Jackie DeShannon ‎– Laurel Canyon
Neil Diamond - Touching You Touching Me
The Doobie Brothers - Stampede
Ian Dury & The Blockheads - Laughter
The Electric Flag - A Long Time Comin'
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
Greta Garbo - Garbo
Art Garfunkel - Watermark
Art Garfunkel - Angel Clare
Geils - Monkey Island
Go West ‎– Go West
Godley & Creme - The Histroy Mix Volume 1
The Barry Goldberg Reunion - S/T
Lesley Gore - Girl Talk
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'
Frank Ifield - Portrait In Song
The Indigo Girls - Strange Fire
It's A Beautiful Day ‎– Choice Quality Stuff / Anytime
Jan & Dean - Golden Hits
Jefferson Airplane - Volunteers
Jefferson Airplane - Crown Of Creation
Jefferson Airplane - Bless Its Pointed Little Head
Jefferson Airplane - After Bathing At Baxter's
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
Jethro Tull - War
Joan Jett & The Blackhearts - Fake Friends 12"
Jo Jo Gunne - S/T
Jo Jo Gunne - Jumpin' The Gunne
Jo Jo Gunne - Bite Down Hard
Elton John - Jump Up!
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
Tom Jones - Live In Las Vegas
Jorma Kaukonen & Vital Parts - Barbeque King
B.B. King - Love Me Tender
Carole King - Welcome Home
Carole King - One To One
The Kinks - State Of Confusion
Mark Lindsay - Arizona
Kenny Loggins - Celebrate Me Home
Loggins & Messina - Full Sail
Loggins & Messina - On Stage
Jackie Lomax ‎– Livin' For Lovin'
Jackie Lomax ‎– Three
Jackie Lomax ‎– Home Is In My Head
Jackie Lomax ‎– Is This What You Want?
Lone Justice - Lone Justice
Lone Justice - Shelter
The Lovin' Spoonful - Hums Of The Lovin' Spoonful
The Mama's And The Papa's - 16 Greatest Hits
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
Don McClean - Homeless Brother
Brownie McGhee & Sonny Terry - A Long Way From Home
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
Molly Hatchet - Flirtin' With Disaster
Montrose - Warner Bros Presents
Gary Moore - Corridors Of Power
Mott The Hoople - Mott
Elliot Murphy - Aquashow
Graham Nash - Wild Tales
Stevie Nicks - Bella Donna
The Nylons - Seamless
Laura Nyro ‎– Nested
Laura Nyro - The First Songs
Ted Nugent - Weekend Warriors
Ric Ocasek - Beatitude
Roy Orbison - More Greatest Hits
Peter And Gordon - The Best Of
Grace Pool - S/T
Elvis Presley - His Songs Of Inspiration
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
The Rolling Stones - Love You Live
The Rolling Stones - Let It Bleed (Cover ONLY)
Romeo Void ‎– Benefactor
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
Savoy Brown - A Step Further
Boz Scaggs - Down Two Then Left
Seatrain - S/T
Carly Simon - S/T
Carly Simon - Another Passenger
Paul Simon - Hearts And Bones
Paul Simon - Still Crazy After All These Years
Simon & Garfunkel - Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme
Simply Red - Picture Book
Siren ‎– All Is Forgiven
Grace Slick And Paul Kantner - Sunfighter
Chris Spedding ‎– The Only Lick I Know
Chris Spedding ‎– Hurt
Chris Spedding ‎– Enemy Within
Chris Spedding ‎– S/T
Chris Spedding - Ready Spedding Go
Spirit - Clear
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
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
Sting ‎– The Dream Of The Blue Turtles
Stoneground - Stoneground
James Taylor - JT
James Taylor - Mud Slide Slim
James Taylor - Never Die Young
James Taylor - Dad Loves His Work
Mick Taylor - S/T
10cc - 100cc
Ten Years After ‎– Watt
George Thorogood And The Destroyers - Maverick
Three Dog Night - Naturally
Pete Townshend - Who Came First
Pete Townshend-Ronnie Lane - Rough Mix
Traffic - Welcome To The Canteen
Traffic - Last Exit
Robin Trower - Bridge Of Sighs
Robin Trower - For Earth Below
The Tubes - What Do You Want From Live
The Tubes - Outside Inside
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
Suzanne Vega - S/T
The Ventures ‎– Knock Me Out!
The Ventures ‎– The Ventures
The Ventures ‎– A Go-Go
Joe Walsh - You Bought It You Name It
Edgar Winter's White Trash - Roadwork
Steve Winwood - S/T
Yankees ‎– High 'N' Inside (Great Private press Power Pop LP)
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
Steve Hackett ‎– Please Don't Touch!
Kansas - Masque
Kansas - Vinyl Confessions
Kansas - Kansas
Kayak - Royal Red Bouncer
Marillion - Brief Encounter
The Moody Blues - This Is The Moody Blues 2LP
The Moody Blues - Seventh Sojourn
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
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
Mose Allison - Wild Man On The Loose
Nestor Amaral And His Continentals - Brazil
Brian Auger's Oblivion Express ‎– Happiness Heartaches
Warren Barker And Frank Comstock ‎– TV Guide Top Television Themes
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
June Christy - This Is June Christy!
Michael Colina - Shadow Of Urbano
Jackie Coon - Jazzin' Around
Sammy Davis Jr - California Suite
Martin Denny ‎– Exotic Night
Paul Desmond With The Modern Jazz Quartet ‎– The Only Recorded Performance Of Paul Desmond With The Modern Jazz Quartet
Ella Fitzgerald - Montreux 1975
Ella Fitzgerald ‎– Ella A Nice
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
Herbie Hancock - Crossings (Cover F)
Wayne Henderson - Big Daddy's Place
Jon Hendricks & Company ‎– Love
Billie Holiday - Volume II
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
Antonio Carlos Jobim - Love, Strings and Jobim
The Jonah Jones Quartet - A Touch Of Blue
The Jonah Jones Quartet - On The Sunny Side Of The Street
Tom Justice - Justice Makes Love
The Roger Kellaway Cello Quartet - Come To The Meadow
Yank Lawson And Bob Haggart - The World's Greatest Jazz Band
Meade Lux Lewis - Barrel House Piano
Ramsey Lewis - Live At The Savoy
Chuck Mangione - Love Notes
The Manhattan Transfer - Best Of
Herbie Mann - New Mann At Newport
Herbie Mann ‎– Windows Opened
Ann-Margret - Kitty Kallen - Della Reese ‎– 3 Great Girls
Mark-Almond - S/T
Mark-Almond - II
Mark-Almond - Rising
Les McCann ‎– River High, River Low
Carmen McRae - The Greatest Of 2LP
Jay McShann - The Man From Muskogee
Jay McShann ‎– A Tribute To Fats Waller
Glenn Miller - On The Air Vol 1
Glenn Miller - On The Air Vol 2
Red Mitchell - Red Mitchell (VG-)
Wes Montgomery - California Dreaming
Wes Montgomery - The Best Of Vol 2
Turk Murphy's Jazz Band - San Francisco Jazz
Turk Murphy's Jazz Band - San Francisco Memories
Oliver Nelson ‎– Black Brown And Beautiful
Jimmy Noon & Earl Hines - At The Apex Club
Red Norvo, Teddy Wilson, Gene Krupa.. - Jazz Concert
Claus Ogerman/Michael Brecker - Cityscape
Billy Oskay And Michael O Domhnail - Nightnoise
Oscar Peterson And Joe Pass ‎– Porgy & Bess
Oscar Peterson And The Trumpet Kings ‎– Jousts
André Previn, Gerry Mulligan, Carmen McRae ‎– Performing Music From The Subterraneans - Original Sound Track Album (Cover VG-)
Spike Robinson ‎– The Gershwin Collection
Linda Ronstadt & The Nelson Riddle Orchestra ‎– What's New
George Russell & The Living Time Orchestra - The African Game
Pee Wee Russell - S/T
David Sanborn - As We Speak
Diane Schuur - Schuur Thing
Diane Schuur - Timeless
Bud Shank ‎– Heritage
Bud Shank/Shorty Rogers - California Concert
George Shearing / Jim Hall ‎– First Edition
The George Shearing Quintet With Dakota Staton - In The Night
Bobby Short ‎– Bobby Short Is K-Ra-Zy For Gershwin
Bobby Short ‎– Celebrates Rodgers & Hart
Bessie Smith - The Bessie Smith Story Vol III w/ Joe Smith & Fletcher Henderson's Hot Six
Lonnie Liston Smith - Love Is The Answer (Cover G)
Dakota Staton ‎– The Late, Late Show
Art Tatum / James P. Johnson ‎– Art Tatum Masterpieces Volume II And James P. Johnson Plays Fats Waller
Clark Terry ‎– Ain't Misbehavin'
Clark Terry And Zoot Sims ‎– Mother------! Mother -----------!! A Jazz Symphony
The Clark Terry Five ‎– Memories Of Duke
Cal Tjader - The Shining Sea
Joe Turner - Effervescent
Various - Round Midnight OST
Sarah Vaughan ‎– Duke Ellington Song Book One
Sarah Vaughan ‎– I Love Brazil!
Grover Washington Jr - Live At The Bijou
Lou Watters' Yerba Buena Jazz Band - S/T
Zaccarias And His Orchestra - Dance The Bossa Nova
Marian Anderson With Franz Rupp ‎– Spirituals
Marian Anderson - The Lady From Philadelphia
Automatic Man - S/T
Blue Magic - Thirteen Blue Magic Lane
Tyrone Brunson - Fresh
Bus Boys - Minimum Wage Rock & Roll
The Chambers Brothers - The Time Has Come
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
The Crusaders - At Their Best
Godfrey Daniel ‎– Take A Sad Song...
Tyrone Davis - Turning Point!
Earth Wind & Fire - Electric Universe
Fats Domino ‎– Sings Million Record Hits
Fats Domino - Twistin' The Stomp (Cover VG-)
Dobie Gray - Drift Away
Al Green - I'll Rise Again
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
J.O.B. Orquestra ‎– Open The Doors To Your Heart
Quincy Jones ‎– The Dude
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 - Baby It's Me
Diana Ross & Lionel Richie - Endless Love
Diana Ross & The Supremes - Anthology 3LP
Silver Convention - S/T
Dakota Staton ‎– Ms. Soul
Dakota Staton - Confession'
Dakota Staton - Madame Foo-Foo
Dakota Staton - I Want A Country Man
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
Marlo Thomas And Friends - Free To Be... You And Me
War - Deliver The Word
Dionne Warwick - Friends
Nancy Wilson ‎– This Mother's Daughter
Nancy Wilson - From Broadway With Love
Nancy Wilson - Who Can I Turn To
Nancy Wilson - For Once In My Life
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
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
Kevin Coyne ‎– Marjory Razor Blade
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
Dueling Banjos - Deliverance
Nelson Eddy - Stour-Hearted Men
Joe Ely - Musta Notta Gotta Lotta
Norman Greenbaum - Petaluma
Nanci Griffith - Storms
Nanci Griffith - Little Love Affairs
Nanci Griffith - One Fair Summer Evening
Nanci Griffith - Once In A Very Blue Moon
Nanci Griffith - Poet In My Window
Nanci Griffith - There's A Light Beyond These Woods
Nanci Griffith - Lone Star State Of Mind
Nanci Griffith - The Last Of The True Believers
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-)
The Kingston Trio - The Last Month Of The Year
The Kingston Trio - Hungry i
The Kingston Trio - Somethin' Else
The Kingston Trio - String Along With
The Kingston Trio - At Large
Leo Kottke - Leo Kottke
Leo Kottke - 1971-1976
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
Reba McEntire - Greatest Hits
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
Peter Paul And Mary - S/T
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)
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
Billy Oskay And Mīcheāl Ō Domhnaill ‎– Nightnoise
Shadowfax ‎– The Dreams Of Children
Synergy ‎– Audion
Vangelis - Opera Sauvage
Vangelis - Albedo 0.39
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
Alfred Apaka - Aloha Apaka
The Hilo Hawaiians ‎– Honeymoon In Hawaii
Bill Kaiwa - Paniolo Country Western
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
The Color Purple
Dirty Dancing In Concert
Electra Glide In Blue
Jesus Christ Superstar
Light Of Day
The Man From Snowy River
The Music Of Cosmos
The Natural (Randy Newman)
The Razor’s Edge
The Rocky Horror Show: Original Australian Cast Album
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
Urban Cowboy
Various ‎– Fonzie Favorites
Comedy/Spoken Word
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
Monty Python - Live At City Center
National Lampoon - White Album
Orson Welles - The Begatting Of The President
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)
Boniface Bonnie ‎– Night & Daylight Yeibichei (Native American)
Bonzo Dog Band ‎– Beast Of The Bonzos
Los Indios Tabajaras - Maria Elena
Vasant Rai - Spring Flowers
submitted by creature_fear12 to VinylCollectors [link] [comments]

2020.10.25 15:39 cleanyourbedroomboy Naked mom

“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.
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.
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 Odd_directions [link] [comments]

2020.10.25 15:18 cancerous_throwaway9 Naked mom

I don't really know where to even start with this so please forgive me if this doesn't make any sense, I'm just in a very negative headspace right now. I feel like a lot of my problems in life are interlocked with each other and it's hard to talk about one without mentioning the others. I've never told anyone this stuff before and I need to vent and ask for advice. This post will make me sound like an absolute dumb ass so please don't be mean.
I guess I should start off by saying that I've been depressed for a really long time. I've never been to a doctor for it, and while I'm not normally one for self diagnosis, I just know I have it. I have a lot of the telltale symptoms. Doing anything is just so fucking exhausting, I feel like I'm trapped in my bedroom most of the time. I've been fantasizing and thinking about killing myself for years now, and while there were times where I really wanted to do it, I've always been too scared to. I just turned 20 a couple weeks ago, and when I reflect over the past several years, I'm pretty sure I was severely depressed in highschool and middle school, I just didn't realize it. The last couple years of highschool were the worst though, I could barely get any assignments done, and I missed so much school. The fact that I even graduated is a miracle. I applied to a bunch of colleges, and almost went to an art school, but the thought of doing that sounded miserable to me. I know there'd be know way I could keep up with assignments and I don't even enjoy making art anymore like I used to. I have no talent or prospects in my life. I quit my job when covid started and have been an unemployed sack of shit since. This past January I asked my mom for help, and we were gonna go to the doctor for my depression, but I never got around to it. Then covid hit and I no longer felt comfortable going to the doctor.
So, about the cancer. I remember it was sometime right before or after I had started my freshman year of high school. I was doing a self check and felt a smallish bump on my right testicle. Now, over that summer I had already been to the hospital for testicle pain. They told me it was because my sperm tubes (idk the correct name) were clogged with sperm so I was given medication for it and it went away. So when I found this bump I figured, there's no WAY it could be cancer, I was just at the doctor, they would have found it. So I ignored it. And I've basically just continued to ignore it until now. And that was about 5 years ago I think? And I'm pretty sure it's spread. The lump on my testicle is still there and occasionally I will get aching pains on my right nut. I also get similar feeling pain in the pubis region above my testicle, and in my lower right abdomen. I've been in such a deep state of denial and fear that I just ignored it until now. I think it's spread to where I have a brain tumor now. I have an occasional ache/pressure/throb that I get behind my eyes, specifically my right one. When I tried to exercise the past few months, I would get an explosive aching pain in the right side of my head. Most recently, I've been getting full body numbness/tingles, that are especially strong from the waist down. It's very uncomfortable and hard to ignore and basically what prompted me to post this.
I've always been extremely self conscious about my body, basically since middle school. I used to get made fun of for being chubby, and all through out school I'd wear thick, baggy sweatshirts to hide myself. I've gone through periods of starving/cutting myself because of the self hatred. I hate being in public, I always feel so stupid. The thought of having to be in the hospital, where a bunch of strangers get to see me naked sounds like an actual nightmare. There's just so much shame and humiliation that kept me from getting help. I also never went to the doctor because I guess I was just too suicidal to care. It's like when you want to die, but don't want to kill yourself. Sometimes I feel happy that I have cancer. I hope someday it'll just make me drop dead out of the blue. Then I'll be dead without people knowing I was suicidal. Other times I feel incredibly guilty and stressed out about it. Sometimes I think about what I'm missing out on and I do want to get my life together, and pull myself out of my depression pit. I want to travel, go to parties and concerts, do something with my life, fall in love. but then I think, What's the point? I'm just gonna die in a couple years from cancer anyways, might as well not waste the energy. When I'm with loved ones/ friends, even if I'm happy in that moment, I feel very guilty that I could be gone soon and they'll be devastated.
Thinking about cancer treatment stuff like radiation, surgery, chemo, etc. makes me want to puke. It sounds like such a miserable experience. The thought of having to get a testicle removed makes me want to cry. Even if I did try to get help for it, there's no way I could afford cancer treatment. I don't have health insurace and it's probably to a point now where it would be so much work to treat it that it would cost an exuberant price. It would just make me feel incredibly guilty about being a burden on my mom, who would probably have to help me with a lot of it, when she's already stressed as is. Plus, how would I explain how bad my cancer is to my doctor? I'd want to be honest for the best possible treatment, but there's no way I'd want them or anyone in my life to know that I've been ignoring my symptoms. I just feel so trapped in my situation in life. I really just wish that I could drop dead or that I could wake up as someone else.
tl;dr I'm pretty sure I have cancer but I've been ignoring my symptoms for years because I don't care if I die. Sometimes I want to improve my life and get help but then I just think "What's the point? I'll probably be dead in the next couple years anyway so don't bother"
submitted by cancerous_throwaway9 to offmychest [link] [comments]

2020.10.25 15:13 michaelsoftysquare Entitled mother slams door in my face and calls me a pervert

This isn't a bad as the other stories I have seen but I thought I should post it. Em=entitled mom
So this started a few years back when I had recently moved houses.Since the house had a field outside and many other kids played there I started playing with a kid (let's call him bob). One day after I asked him to come play, bob seemed really odd and always seemed like he wanted a fight . Not long after this he bare-knuckle punched me in the jaw .I ran to his house,which was just on the neighboring Street and knocked on the door and his mom answered. She had the full Karen look and when I said "excuse me ,your son has hit me," she immediately shouted "WHAT SO YOU HIT HIM Back!" and slammed the door in my 9 year old face. I went back home in tears and told my mum what happened , she talked to his mom who started shouting "well your son is a pervert and I should keep my little angel" safe and closed the door.during the argument her other child who was no older than three was running around butt-naked and EM did nothing about it.we never spoke to the kid or his mom again.
submitted by michaelsoftysquare to entitledparents [link] [comments]

2020.10.25 08:58 bodg123 Naked mom

Since the thriller bark arc zoro has been connected to ryuuma, wano, and dragons. And before that his village connected him to wano. The sword a samurai from wano used to slay a dragon and become a legend was given to zoro because he was deemed worthy. He later beheads the mechanical dragon in Punk hazard.
Monet is the first character post time skip to notice how easily he could have defeated her if he used Haki. I think this along with sbs info about his natural affinity would lead the reader to believe he has a good grasp of ryuo(advanced armanent haki). He most likely was thought this from mihawk. His fight with pika showed his armanent was advanced enough a basically one shot a powerful enemy but his observation Haki wasn't a second instinct.
Kaido has been going on and on about oden and we've had a few panels focusing on his scar. Luffys attacks are all blunt force. Now I could see the argument that with ryou he could hurt the scar from the inside. But with zoro having odens sword I think it's much more likely he will end up reopening that wound. I don't really know how ryou Haki as a defense(by luffy) would hold up against kaidos fire attacks, someone zoro can easily fend against. Why you may ask? I'm pretty sure kinemon taught him his technique in the background. I'm not sure if that would also work against the lightning blast but that is where luffy has advantage as he could just tank that. Now the wind scythes would be the biggest danger to luffy while that's someone we know zoro could easily counter.
Many times luffy has said he will take on kaido but I truly think of there's two yonkou in front of him he would entrust one to zoro.
Big mom has come to wano for one reason, luffys head. He has been pissing her off since before kaido was a plan. He challenged her for her territory than challenged her again on her territory. Jinbei deflecting her was just a stall. She will be back madder than before. By the time luffy makes it up to kaido, BM will surely be on his tail.
The WCI arc established just how durable big mom is. A rocket to the face didn't phase her. Luffys new Haki can now penetrate as well as defend her blows.
Right now there are two very important countries on the line. They are also key to what's going on in the outside world. The reverie just happened. At this one they were supposed to discuss the fishmen migrating to the surface or improving inter species relations. I can't remember the specifics, but it had something to do with the celestial dragon queen otohime saved and the petition.
Luffy claimed Fishman island/the ryugu kingdom as his territory. Jinbei is no longer there to act as protection under the BM umbrella.
The other country important in the reverie is wano. It's opening will clearly have a big impact on the world of OP. The marines are already there in secret(sword) presumably trying to sneak their dirty claws into it like alabasta or dressrosa. FI Island is important because of its position in the new world and the ancient power connected to it. Wano is important because of the secrets and history it holds. Both have importance to the world government but they are both going to be SH territory.
One country is going to have the world opened to it and the other is going to be opened to the world.
They are both going to be defeated this arc. I think one will die. I get most people want to apply the Shonen logic(big baddie is reserved for main protagonist). And yes luffy has said big mom will be after kaido but that was before she followed his ass there. He has went leaps and bounds since WCI but he's still not at the level of taking on two yonkou.
One similarity I noticed between oden and zoro is their trust in a deal. They both expected honor. In zoros case he tied himself to a stake and starved for xx days believing it was a honorable deal. Oden did the same with orochi and dancing naked. Other than raw strength I don't see any other similarities.
If zoro takes down kaido, to the people of wano, it will be seen as a ronin opening the country which is far more symbolic than a pirate opening thier borders.
I'm thinking it's gonna be a good ol 2v2. None of that zoro just gets the final blow nonsense.(then why go through the trouble of giving him odens sword at all? If that were the case.)
submitted by bodg123 to OnePiece [link] [comments]

2020.10.25 08:16 InfinitySky1999 Naked mom

I did a lot of thinking on this. First, this started when I was a small kid around age 4 seeing a naked woman by accident. I then questioned, when will I lose my genitals?
It was never answered except by time unfortunately. Next, I told my mother at age 6 that I wanted to give birth after I saw my best friend’s mother give birth. I was told I can never give birth. For a while afterwards, I was quite comfortable with being myself other than the genitals I had which I secretly hoped would fall off and give me only a cavity between my legs. I had accepted being a boy. The only incident after that was two years afterwards when I wanted to wear a female costume for halloween which I was told no and the other girl outfits as well( Did not bother me much as there were others I was happy with)I was also forced to cut my hair as well at age 5 with me screaming in a chair and I was told to not act like a girl, though I did not even think of the things I was doing as girly. The strange thing about all these things here is that I wad not even trying to act as the girls. I was simply acting how I wanted and felt.
At age 12 was when I started noticing something about myself and about the girls around me. I noticed they had these bulges in their chest for some reason and when guys thought I was checking the girls out, I was not internally slobbering over their chests, I was burning with a huge amount of rage internally as I secretly wanted breasts. It make me so angry I looked up how to grow boobs for boys and when I found out soy milk was effective, I started drinking soy milk every day I went out to eat school lunch. I actually got really lucky and got gynecomastia before the incident thanks to my friend for noticing my nipples and did not even realize I was already growing breasts of my own and that was what she was telling me. There was no luck with the soy milk unfortunately though I at least got my nipples a little bigger afterwards with a pellet under them. At this time, there was also this super creepy girl who would grab my crouch and it would internally enrage me.
I for no reason and no exposure developed the urge to get a bigger butt and to widen my hips. Not even furious jealousy like the breasts, just a body shape I strongly desired and with the little power I had at age 13, I found out you can widen hips and get your butt bigger with exercises. Afterwards, I literally became one of the fastest sprinters in my entire high school and one in the whole district as I did countless butt exercises and hip workouts to get the results. Results were somewhat satisfactory with the butt which I was happy with, but found incomplete. Though, it caused my butt to get so much attention even guys complemented it and I did not look anything like a woman. After all of this and undesired results, I realized that the most common things I want are what the girls and women around me had which were breasts, hips, curvy butt, thicker thighs, hairless legs( I also started shaving my legs about a years ago with this), long hair, fatty soft skin, a private area with no testicles(penis does not bother me for some reason. Just wish I could fit it into panties and even regular pants), and the ability to give birth( This probably as I feel I have motherly feelings rather than fatherly feelings. I cannot stand the idea that the only way I can have kids is by someone else producing them for me).
Now then, at the age I was at, I had moderate acne which bother me ver little as I kind of though they were cool and I was right as I learned to make cool patterns with them in high school and community college later on. But, what bothered me was not only learning that my genitals will never come off, but that they are what is required for me to have genetic children and that they will actually get BIGGER which they did by a lot. I also ended with a masculine hairline, narrower hips despite the workouts, and loads and loads of hair. So much hair I cannot even emphasized. The only places I have not grown hair at is on my eyelids, my ears, my neck, and the palms and soles of my hands and feet respectively. I looked like a man by age 16, though I was not tall and I currently stand at average male height. By the end of high school seeing all the girls with their dresses and the girls hitting on me, I was angry internally at my circumstances and burned with jealousy. People asking me if I want to see a girl nude while in my head, I am screaming no, I want to be that nude girl and want guys chasing me, not straight girls.
At age 18, I started to subside my feelings by taking advantage of the characteristics of what I like about being a guy like the broader shoulders and the hair on the chest(The only two things I like about being male). Over time though, it just would not be enough to fill my internal hole. So, I started buying bras and bought a blue dress. The bras made me feel much better as it not only gave me clothing I prefer, if also made me feel like I had breast there. I now regularly wear a push up bra everywhere I go after that and to this day. The blue dress, I only wear in my private space as people around me are not very accepting of stepping out of gender norms. The dress I like so much better than all of my male cloths. As for panties, I like them so much despite none fitting my penis that my mom caught panties in my laundry and took them out. Luckily, I came up with a reasonable lie and talk about how her shirt was also in my closet, so likely a mix ip and she never suspected anything after that.
So now, I have just turned 21 about a month ago and I have extreme anger when I do not wear my push up bra and always wear the blue dress every time I am in my room. I see my sister now growing breasts very fast and get jealous. Looking at all of these characteristics, I now realize I am not simply a transvestite, but actually a mtf and by mental and societal definitions, I am actually female(sex wise still male un fortunately due to my parts)I look at hrt and all the consequences and find none of them bother me other than the sperm which you can just compensate by sperm banking. In fact negatives like penis shrinking is positive to me. I have a 8 inch penis that should actually belong to an ftm(I really wish I could swap with you guys) and it not working is positive to me. I also prefer playing the female end when I think about sex. I am attracted to women body wise, but I would prefer to have sex with a penis at the same time. All the effects of increasing breast size, skin softening, reduced muscles, less hair growth, fat redistribution to butt, hips and thighs, and losing male part function is literally everything I want with the only thing missing is the ability to give birth(Which is partially made up for with sperm banking as I do not have to have sex with a woman with penetration from me)So, I confirm myself on my set of definitions and partially biologically as female as of now.
Also, I will do hrt regardless of thoughts on here, but do you think I count as mtf or female?
submitted by InfinitySky1999 to MtF [link] [comments]

2020.10.25 06:38 8rachnidsGrip Naked mom

BTW, this happened a few months ago, but I constantly think about it and I need to get it off my chest.
My (14F) bathing suit top is hard to get on because the straps in the back are complicated and have a kinda woven design and it usually takes me about like 5-10 minutes to get on with the help of my sister (12F)
Because it is hard to get on (also it is a little tight now) my Mom (mid 30s) offered to get me a new one, so I went online to find a top. I found one, sent my mom the link, and she bought it for me. When it came in the mail, I felt really cute and confident in it (which doesn't happen often, I usually feel gross in clothes) , and put it away for when I would swim.
Fast forward a few days, my little brother (3M) wanted me to play with him while he was bathing, I didn't want to be naked in there so I put my new bikini top on along with my bikini bottoms. I wrapped myself in a towel and went into my Mom's Room where the bath is, I walked past her and she asked if I were wearing the new bikini top, I said yes, and she wanted to see so I took the towel off. She immediately made a face and started talking about how I am a slut, skank, etc. for picking that top out. She then forbade me for wearing that outside of our house (we have a pool),and I could not wear it in public.
I feel like she is unreasonable for saying that because the website had a picture of a girl wearing it, so she knew what to expect, and she saw what it looked like in the picture. I was silently crying in the bath because I felt really gross and insecure now because of that.
Recently, some family came over and were going to swim in my pool, my mom asked me if I wanted to swim with them, but I said no. I didn't tell her this, but the reason why I didn't want to swim was because I didn't want them to think I was a slut or think lowly of me in general because of it.
Here is a link to the bikini top
Am I overreacting? AITA?
submitted by 8rachnidsGrip to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]

2020.10.25 06:21 adroitely Naked mom

When I was younger, I spent most of my time playing in the woods.
I grew up in a small, rural town in the late 80s and early 90s. I wasn’t a very popular kid, and I hung around with a few other misfits who lived nearby. We would gather in someone’s backyard—in the empty, ramshackle barn behind Benjamin’s house, or between the stacks of firewood outside Miriam’s place. We would decide what adventure we were going to have that day, and we would have it—no parents, no curfews, no worries. One of our last adventures was in the summer of ‘95. We were already getting a little old to still be spending so much time together—Adrian was hoping to join the JV football team soon and leave us behind for good, and Iris was bullied so much at school it was almost a liability to hang out with her.
It was summer, though, and we all still lived a stone’s throw away from one another and a short walk to the woods that loomed behind our parents’ properties. The woods were familiar and safe to us, the home of our childhood adventures and makeshift clubhouses. It was mid-June, I think—it gets harder to remember every year—the last time we all hung out together, all five of us. Benjamin was dead set on making a treehouse. We all knew it would never come to fruition, but we still spent the day climbing various trees to try and find the perfect spot. It was late afternoon when Miriam called from high up in a broad oak, “I think I found it, guys!”
We all climbed up the tree to inspect the location. All of us were able to make our way onto the thick, sturdy branch Miriam was standing on, which was a good sign. “This is perfect for a treehouse,” Benjamin said triumphantly. “It can already fit all five of us—” He leaned forward, counting heads again, and we all realized at the same time that there were only four of us standing on the branch.
We glanced down and saw Iris sitting a few branches below, looking up at us timidly. She had mousy brown hair that just reached her shoulders, and she gazed up at us with wide dark eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was scared or sad.
“Come on, Iris,” called Adrian. “We need to make sure we all fit.”
She shook her head and responded quietly, “I don’t think we will. It doesn’t look like there’s room for me.”
“You’re just scared,” Benjamin snickered, shifting slightly as he laughed and causing the branch to shake. I quickly grabbed onto the branch above us, a wave of fear washing through me, though I didn’t dare to show it.
“No,” Iris protested. “I just—”
“If you’re not scared then prove it.” I was shocked to hear Miriam’s voice. I glanced over at her, and she seemed unsure of herself until Benjamin’s sadistic grin widened, and her smile began to mirror his. I was ready to start climbing down when Benjamin continued.
“Yeah, prove it. Come up here with us. Diana will get down so there’s room for you.” He looked at me, his blue eyes shining with a level of malice I didn’t know eleven-year-olds were capable of. I buckled under the pressure, nodding quietly and climbing down to where Iris stood.
Iris and I had always been a little closer than the others. We’d grown a bit distant over the summer, but I still cared about her. “Don’t let them get to you,” I whispered as I sat down next to her. “We can climb down together if you want.”
She smiled tentatively at me. “Thanks, Diana. I might as well try, though.”
As soon as Iris began climbing the tree, Benjamin started talking again, harassing her the entire way up. He called her weak, scared, even ugly, which didn’t seem relevant. She was just about to grab the branch they were standing on, but I could tell she was faltering. “Come on, Iris,” Benjamin said. “Prove you’re not a coward.”
She reached up and gripped tightly onto the thick branch, her hand clinging to the spot right next to Miriam’s foot. I couldn’t see her face, but I felt her happiness and pride from where I was sitting and watching. I grinned, ready to cheer her on, as she let go of the tree trunk and reached out to grab the branch with her other hand. As she transferred her grip, Miriam’s foot lifted, and she brought it down hard on Iris’s hand. I didn’t even realize what had happened until Iris screamed in pain.
“Miriam, stop!” Adrian shouted. He tried to pull Miriam away, to give Iris some relief from the pain, but it only caused them both to wobble precariously and for Iris to lose her grip on the tree altogether.
The four of us watched in shocked silence as Iris fell through the branches below. She screamed the whole way down, hitting branches as she fell. I hoped they would slow her fall and she wouldn’t be too hurt when she hit the ground, maybe just have the wind knocked out of her—
A sickening crunch rang out through the forest and Iris fell silent. We couldn’t see the ground through all the leaves and branches below us, but we looked at one another, quiet and pale-faced. Of course, Benjamin was the first to break the silence.
“Come on, Iris,” he called out. “Stop messing with us. Come back up.”
No response.
“I’m going to check on her,” Adrian said. His eyes were brimming with tears, and as soon as he began climbing down, I followed his lead. The other two began their descent soon after, and we all hit the ground and saw her at about the same time.
Adrian began sobbing, and Miriam ran off to throw up. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from where her head had split right where it had hit the rock. Benjamin was glaring at her, his face hard and quiet, that malice still lingering in his gaze.
I don’t know how long we all stood there, the sun beating down and the coppery smell of Iris’s blood mingling with the sticky summer air. All I know was that Benjamin took the lead once again. He forced everyone to calm down, to get it together. He made us swear an oath of secrecy. This was our next adventure—walking home and pretending none of this had ever happened. They would find Iris eventually and assume she’d been playing alone and simply fallen out of the tree herself.
For the last time, we did what he told us to do. We walked home separately, one at a time. I was the last to leave. Benjamin told me to go before sunset, but I had to get all my tears out before I went home, so I didn’t walk away from Iris’s body until there was a sky full of stars above us. When I finally left, I gave her a kiss on the cheek before I headed back home.
It was a few days until she was reported missing and the investigation began. I stayed inside, tried to avoid my parents, holing myself up in my room and waiting anxiously for the police to knock on our door and call me in for questioning. It never happened—Iris’s body was never found.
My last full conversation with Benjamin happened a week after Iris died. I confronted him in his backyard, and we moved to the old barn to talk.
“What did you do with her body?” I said, trying to ignore the lump in my throat.
“Nothing,” he said angrily. “You really think I’m that dumb? An animal probably ate it or something.”
Somehow, life went on. It wasn’t a happy adolescence. Kids started to go missing a little more frequently—one almost every two years. Some adults disappeared too. I knew there was no way it was connected to Iris, but I developed bad anxiety regardless. The remaining four of us stopped talking. I had no friends at school and mostly kept to myself in the library. Adrian joined the football team and avoided eye contact whenever he saw me. Miriam developed an alcohol problem in high school, and Benjamin was arrested and tried for arson a month before graduation. None of us made it out whole, but at least I made it out.
I haven’t been back to my hometown in over a decade. I have my own kid now, but my parents died before he was born, so I’ve never had a reason to visit since I had him, until now. He was so excited to see where I used to play and go to school—he’s nine, and I swear he hadn’t been this interested in me in years. I wasn’t expecting the visit to be fun—my kindergarten teacher had died, and I was attending her funeral. At least I'd get some quality time with Jonas, I thought. You’d think I’d get plenty of that, being a single mom, but it’s hard between school and work and homework and bedtimes. We both needed a break.
It was gray and drizzly when we arrived a few days ago. On our way through the town, we passed the assisted living facility that my parents had stayed in before they died. I vaguely remembered that Iris’s mother was living there, too. She’d been pretty frail ever since Iris went missing. She swore to the police that Iris tried to come home that night, and they followed that lead for a while, but I knew deep down that it was futile. I wished I could have told them.
I shook off those thoughts as we drove further into town, pointing out my old high school and the library I used to spend so much time at. Jonas practically had his face pressed against the window the entire time, and it made me smile. Finally, we arrived at my childhood home, where we would be staying for the next few days. My anxiety swelled as soon as I saw the line of trees just a few yards away from the back door. I ushered Jonas inside the cavernous house. It still had that same old smell. My aunt was supposed to be fixing the place up, but I could tell no one had been here in ages. Still, Jonas was thrilled to see my old bedroom and the kitchen where I used to cook dinner with my mom.
I didn’t cook that night—we ordered pizza and sat in the dim living room watching TV together. I felt almost at peace until Jonas said, “Mommy, can I play outside? I wanna go explore the woods!”
My blood ran cold, but I tried not to let me fear show. “Not tonight, sweetie,” I said. “Maybe we can go out together tomorrow.” I had no intent of keeping that promise, but I hoped he would forget by the time I dropped him off with my aunt tomorrow.
Clearly, I had underestimated my nine-year-old son’s tenacity. He woke me up around eight in the morning, knowing we had to leave by the afternoon, begging me to come out to the woods with him. I managed to stall for a while, but eventually I had to get up and pull on my coat and boots. I tried to corral him in the backyard, but he inevitably drifted towards the forest, and all I could do was grip his small hand and keep my eye on him the entire time he wandered through the trees looking for frogs and cool bugs.
“It’s getting colder, Jonas,” I reminded him. “There’s not gonna be as many bugs as usual!”
“There’s different bugs in the winter, Mommy,” he reminded me, speaking in such a ‘duh’ tone of voice that it almost made me feel stupid. Eventually, my anxieties slipped away as I let him teach me about the different kind of insects we stumbled across, even the ones that I already knew about. The woods weren’t alive, and they couldn’t hurt us. I was older now. I was safe. I eventually let go of his hand and let him look for more bugs and wildflowers as I took a break on the log, warning him not to climb any trees and not to wander so far that I couldn’t see him. He came back to me every so often with centipedes on leaves and tiny clusters of purple flowers he’d uprooted.
He’d wandered off again when I heard leaves rustling to my left, and my anxiety immediately spiked again. I glanced over, trying not to move too much, wondering if I should call out to Jonas or if that would only put him in more danger. A few long seconds passed before a small fox emerged from behind a bush near me, and I sighed with relief. I sat silently and waited for it to pass, and then I called out for my son.
No response.
I looked back to where he’d been standing before, and he was gone. I stood up and looked around frantically. “Jonas?” I called. “Jonas!” I ran in the direction I thought I’d seen him go, trying to force away the tears that began to burn at the back of my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t have taken him out here. “Jonas!”
My heart rate sped up as I heard a small voice call back, “Mommy!”
I whirled around and took off in the direction of the voice. Tears began streaming down my face as I heard the sound again, closer now. The woods around me seemed to be growing louder, birds chirping incessantly and bugs humming loudly. After what seemed like hours of running, my lungs burning, I broke through into a clearing where Jonas stood in the middle, reaching his hand out to something my brain refused to register.
It became clear that it was a person, but they didn’t look human in the slightest. They were naked, caked with dirt and mud, and they had tangled brown hair that reached past their lower back, knotted with sticks and leaves. They crouched on all fours across from Jonas, but as I entered the clearing, they turned and looked at me with wide dark eyes.
“Jonas, come here,” I said immediately.
“But Mommy, I found a friend.”
“Jonas!” He shuddered and began walking towards me, but the person started to straighten up, and I saw how tall and skinny they were. As soon as Jonas reached me, I picked him up—it was a struggle, but I didn’t feel safe with him walking on the ground. I began to back out of the clearing, but the person reached out a thin, claw-like hand, as if saying, stop.
They opened their mouth and said in a small, raspy voice, “Diana?” I began shaking, and Jonas could feel my fear. He gripped my coat and buried his face in my shoulder. “Diana? Diana Wynn? Is that you?” The person took a step closer, and I couldn’t move. Their face twisted into what was surely meant to be a smile, and their dark eyes began to brim with tears that left streaks across their dirt-covered cheeks.
“Who are you?” I said shakily.
“I’m…” They trailed off, averting their eyes hesitantly. Suddenly, the resemblance hit me.
There was no way. Iris was dead—I had seen her head split open, blood and brains spilling out across the forest floor. Even if I believed in ghosts, wouldn’t her spirit have still been a child? This must have been some mentally unsound person living in the woods who just happened to resemble her. I scrambled for my phone. This person needed help.
“That’s right, Diana,” she said, her voice thick with tears, and the sound of it took me back. I hadn’t heard that voice in years. Decades. “Is that your son? He looks just like you. Hazel eyes—”
“Stop, Iris,” I said. “If you—if you really are her.”
“I am,” she said, grinning. Her teeth were almost black, caked with mud. “I can prove it.” She turned her head and pulled apart her thin brown hair, revealing a thick white scar down the length of her scalp, right where she had smashed her head on the rock all those years ago. I hugged Jonas tighter, my eyes widening in shock.
“It is you.”
I wasn’t thinking when I asked her to come home with us—what would you do if you found your supposed-dead childhood best friend dirty and alone in the woods? I carried Jonas the whole way home and Iris trailed behind us. We were almost to the house when the two of them began talking, and Jonas’s grip on my shirt relaxed as Iris asked him about how school was, where we lived now, and what his house was like back in the city. He was in the middle of a tangent about his pet spider when we reached the back door and I set him down, unlocking it and letting us all inside.
For a moment, I stared at Iris, naked, dirty, and hunched over on the doorstep. “Maybe you should come take a bath,” I said hesitantly. “Jonas, you can go put on TV.” He pumped his fist victoriously as he ran to the living room and turned on cartoons. Meanwhile, I led Iris to the bathroom and began running a hot bath. As the tub filled, I begged her to explain what I had missed in the past twenty-five years.
“Well, I died,” she started, laughing creakily. I furrowed my brows but kept listening silently, thinking she was probably just using dark humor to cope with what was surely a traumatic situation. “And then the deer people brought me back.”
“What?” I said. Again, probably just a fantasy to cope, but I was curious. I thought that maybe after this bath, I could bring Jonas to his aunt’s and then drive Iris to the hospital, where she could get the help she needed, physically and emotionally.
“The deer people,” she said again, so matter of fact. “They found me in the forest that night and brought me back to life. They sewed my head back together and breathed life into me.”
“What?” I was becoming a broken record, but her story kept getting more outlandish.
“The deer people,” she repeated, laughing this time. The bath was full, and thankfully she was paying attention, because I was so dumb-founded I forgot to stop it. She reached forward and turned the faucet off, lowering herself carefully in the water. Immediately, layers of dirt and mud began to shed from her body, but it was caked so deep I knew she would need to scrub for maybe an hour to get it all off. I just handed her a rag so that she could clean herself as she continued talking. “I didn’t know about them until I died, but apparently they maintain the balance of life in the forest. Restoring life when something dies too early, or… taking it if it stays past its welcome.” She scrubbed at her arms, smiling softly. “They said it wasn’t my time to go, so they brought me back to life.”
“Why didn’t you go back home?” I said. I still didn’t buy the story about being brought back to life, but my question stood nonetheless.
“I tried,” she said, her smile faltering. “But the death was still fresh. I must have looked awful. My mom was terrified, and her screaming scared me. I ran off and didn’t come back. The deer people had warned me. They had told me I wouldn’t be able to live among humans anymore, that they would raise me from then on. And they did.” Her smile returned. As she scrubbed at her shoulders and chest, I noticed flakes of skin peeling off and falling into the water.
“Is your skin okay?” I was sure she had all sorts of problems from having lived in the woods for the past two and a half decades, but the amount of skin she was losing was concerning.
She shrugged. “This happens every time it gets close to the sacrifice.”
My stomach turned as I watched more grayish layers of skin slough off and land on the water’s surface. “The sacrifice?”
“Yeah. Every few years, I need to help the deer people maintain the balance.”
“What… what do you do?”
“Well… I don’t have the same power to restore life like the deer people do. So, I usually have to take it.” She fell silent, scrubbing and scrubbing, layers of skin peeling away.
“You kill people?” I said softly. The rest could be brushed off as delusions, but if Iris truly believed that this was real, could she have actually been killing people all these years?
She nodded solemnly.
My mind flicked to all the disappearances since Iris had died, but I felt woozy at the thought that it all might be connected, lightheaded at the idea that I’d brought her into this house with my son. “The sacrifice,” I said, my mouth dry. “It’s time for you to make another sacrifice? Who—who are you planning on killing?”
She looked at me with those wide brown eyes, and I knew I didn’t want to hear the answer. Shaking, I stood up and backed out of the bathroom, making excuses, saying I would be back soon. As soon as I shut the door behind myself, I hurried to the living room, where Jonas sat watching TV. He turned to say something, but I shushed him.
“Jonas, go back to my room, okay?”
“I need… my blue sweatshirt. Can you go get it for me? Just go find it in my suitcase, then sit in there and wait for me. I’ll come get it when I’m ready. Okay?”
He nodded, though he was looking at me like I’d grown a second head. I didn’t care if he thought I was weird, I just needed him to be somewhere safer. Not so out in the open. Just as he was getting up to head back to the bedroom, the bathroom door burst open. Iris came out, still half-caked in dirt and dripping wet. Her eyes were wide and wild. Strips of her peeling skin hung from her shoulders and chest, and Jonas looked at her in terror.
“Jonas, go!” I shouted. He began to run back to the bedroom, but she blocked his path, crouching down to his level and resting her hand on his shoulder gently.
“Where are you headed, Jonas?” she said, her voice soft and playful. She almost sounded like the eleven-year-old she was when I’d last seen her. “Can I come along?”
“Stay away from him,” I said, backing slowly towards the kitchen. I reached behind myself, feeling blindly around the counters as I kept my eyes glued on Iris and Jonas. He was shaking, trying to think of something to say. “Jonas, come here.” He turned to look at me, but Iris reached up and turned his head so that he was looking at her again, her long, dirt-caked nails scraping his cheek.
“What’s wrong, Jonas?” she cooed. I kept feeling around on the counters until my hand made contact with a block of wood—the knife block. I reached for the biggest handle I could feel and pulled it out, my heart pounding as I held the knife behind my back and began walking towards Jonas and Iris again.
“Come here, baby,” I said. They both looked at me.
“You can’t save him, Diana,” Iris said to me, her voice suddenly low and menacing. “I must complete the sacrifice.”
“I’ll do it,” I said, my eyes brimming with tears. “I want to help maintain the balance, but let me do it. He’s my son, after all. I can do it.” My voice and hands were both shaking as I revealed the knife, and Jonas began crying. My heart shattered.
“Okay,” Iris said, smiling slightly. She used her hands to steer Jonas around so that he was fully facing me. “Right here.” She pointed to a spot on the back of his skull. “You have to do it in the same place where I was killed. That’s the only way to maintain the balance.” I nodded, heart pounding as a took a few steps closer. I raised the knife, poising it above Jonas’s head. Iris stood right behind him, watching fervently.
“Mommy, no!” he screamed, his face red and streaked with tears. Tears began to flow down my face as well, but I tried to ignore his cries as I brought down the knife. Before I reached his head though, I turned my hand and plunged the knife into Iris’s bare, peeling chest.
They both looked at me in shock. Iris stumbled back a few steps before falling over, her hands clawing at the air around the knife in a feeble attempt to remove it. I immediately dropped to my knees and wrapped Jonah in a tight hug, both of us sobbing as he clutched onto my shirt for dear life. I looked over his shoulder at Iris. She was wheezing for breath as blood flowed from the wound in her chest over her body and onto the floor. It soaked into the carpet, staining it a dark red.
I wasn’t sure what to do with the body, so right now Iris is in the shed out back. I made Jonas his favorite lunch and put on some of the movies he likes to try and offset the shock and trauma, but I’m definitely going to try to get him into therapy when we go home. Until then, though, I’m not quite sure what to do. I have a body in my back shed, and I have no clue what to do with it. Do I turn myself in? Is it even illegal, killing someone who already died once? Technically, of course, Iris was never declared dead, so I know going to the police probably isn’t an option.
If the stress of trying to figure out what to do with my childhood best friend’s dead body wasn’t enough, I also feel unsafe in the house now. I might just be in shock from everything that’s happened today, but I swear someone’s walking around outside the house, looking in windows and trying to spy on us or stalk us. I can’t imagine who it might be, but it’s always a dark, shadowy figure with eyes that glow like a deer’s in headlights.
Occasionally, I even see the outline of an antler.
submitted by adroitely to nosleep [link] [comments]