My cousin got married.....2hr15min late.

I got a call asking can I pick my cousin, the groom's daughter up from the hotel and bring her to the ceremony. I'm like of course, love her she's sweet and like 9 then. I leave my house an hour before the ceremony is supposed to start to get to the hotel. I get to the hotel 45min until ceremony. Knock on door and someone opens it. I see my little cousin....who is in pajamas. Im freaking out as where is her dress. She's supposed to be a flower girl in her dad's wedding. At this moment the bathroom door swung open. The bride is just getting out of the tub....45min before her wedding 😐 (30min drive to the building btw). She tells me her mom accidentally took the girl dress. Which i dont understand how an adult sized woman confuses a small 9 year old dress for hers but ok. She says her mom has the dress there already, i tell cousin let's go to get you changed. The bride then tells her 10 year old daughter bye. Im like where is she going 👀. She says oh she's going with you. Now I have never met her daughter a day in my life, don't even know her name. She then goes, and please don't get her dress dirty 😑. Whatever let's just go!

We finally get there 15min before the start time.They forgot to cut the air on the night before so it was hot af. Like I could feel sweat dripping down the inside of my thighs. The brides mom is walking around putting out food and clearly not wearing a bra. I asked for the dress and get my cousin changed. I then asked the mom why isn't she dressed. She said oh her dress is still at the hotel....I just left 🤦🏾‍♀️. I ask why didn't her daughter tell me to bring the dress with me? No answer.

For 2 hours people are just walking around. My cousin and the brides mom also get into an argument about a chair for some reason. My aunt, the mother of the groom, bless her, was going through menopause and having hot flashes. She spent the bulk of the time with her head in the freezer in the kitchen. While this is going on, the brides family chooses this time to block off all the seats at the front except one luckily. So my aunt was able to sit there.

The wedding finally starts (mind you we have no idea why its being held up, didn't get that info until later). The first guy walks in to light the candles (idk if thats just a black thing or not), there are 2 stands that both have about 7 candles on each. The guy lights ONE candle on each stand and then walks tf off and leaves. My uncle is the pastor looks at me and my cousin like wtf?!? He then whispers "I know im old and yall are going to have to bring me into the new age, but what was that". Me and my other cousin are both like 🤷🏾‍♀️ cause we are also confused. Moving on. The colors for the wedding were lilac. The flower girls come down in the darkest purple and im just like mmmkay. During this time both my cousins enter from outside. No idea where they had been waiting. My cousin who is the best man goes 🤨🧐 when he sees the flower girls, cause ya know, lilac. Finally the bridal party enters, they dance down the aisle 😐. And it was awful.

Finally they start talking. My uncle is reading whatever it is they read. He gets to the line that asks if anyone objects. (It should be noted that the bride does not like my family. They kinda blocked a lot of the seats, which left my mom and one of my aunts sitting around a corner not being able to see). So my uncles goes does anyone have a reason these 2 should not be wed, if so speak now or forever hold your peace. No one said anything. My uncles who is the pastor goes " really?!? Nobody?!? Sherri?!?! (My mom)". Everyone is like what, omg 😂😂. My uncle continues going "i guess". They make it to the part where they ask her " do you take this man.." she goes "I guess". My uncle stares at her, raises his voice and goes " we are doing this one time and one time only, I said..." continues to repeat himself. My uncles is the nicest person you could ever meet so this was all shocking.

While all this was going on I kept noticing my cousin who was a best man squirming, im like mmmkay thats weird. They finally kiss its over. Well because the bride hates my family, and even though they could've gotten married for free at our church she decided she wanted to be married at a random building. So they march out, and come right tf back with an entrance like we didn't just see them. The bride is crying saying people are doing it wrong, no idea what that is. Also, weirdly at this time my other uncle and other cousin ask the cousin next to me to borrow her car to go get something, no idea what as we were in the middle of no where. He then calls as the bride is boohooing saying they made it .5 miles down the road and her bumper randomly fell of her car. Oh and remember the food the brides mother sat out before hand? Yep still there 3 hrs later, in the heat, with flys. At this point I leave as its hot and im just over everything.

I finally was able to talk to my cousin who was the best man and ask him wtf happened. In addition to finding out my mom didnt hear my uncles remarks or she said she wouldve just drug him out of there and we all couldve left. Well of course the wedding was late because of the bride poor time management. I ask where were they the entire waiting. He said they just sat in my other cousins car the entire time in silence like 😐. He didn't know why they were late and didn't want to chance the groom running off so he just didn't speak. I then ask why was he so squirmy during. Apparently the wife wanted to show off that my cousin purchased an engagement ring, wedding ring, and band. She told the best man to bring all three so she can put them all on at the wedding. He spent the entire time trying to hold them together, cause of course if he dropped them they'd go in 3 different directions. That was the last wedding either of us have been to.

I’m an early 30’s American who moved to London about a year ago for a job. It’s always been a dream to live abroad and as a somewhat recently single guy I jumped at the opportunity when it came up as I had nothing tying me down in the US.

I had always wanted to live abroad after traveling a lot internationally in my 20’s and I jumped right into it. Exploring London and England in depth in my spare time, embracing the culture and traditions, traveling throughout Europe on weekends, making new friends / casually dating.

About 6 months in I met a women in her mid 20’s through some friends of friends. I was instantly drawn to her and lucky for me the feeling was mutual (somewhat mutual 😂). We started dating and both quickly made it clear it something more than casual and we both wanted to really see where this could go.

About 4 months in my parents and sister came across the pond to visit. I was big on her not only meeting them but spending some quality time with him. Family is really important to both of us despite living in different countries. They got a long great and my family loved her (no surprise).

After my family had left she talked how much she loved meeting them and was already texting with my sister. She threw out that she’d love to take me to Sweden sometime to see where she grew up and meet her family. I was totally in and fast forward to last weekend we were headed to Sweden together for a long weekend.

Initial meeting and dinner at her parents house was great. Her parents were there and her 2 younger sisters. She always said I’d get along well with them, especially her dad, and she was right. Here is where the funny part starts. At dinner there was mention of the activities planned for the weekend and where I learned about a trip to the Sauna.

Now I’m familiar with Sauna culture in Scandinavia and have also experienced similar set ups in other parts of Europe and Japan. I know they are generally nude and I’m totally comfortable with that. Later that night when we were alone I mentioned jokingly to her that I guess her dad and I were really going to get to know each other.

She laughed and said you’ll get to know the whole family! I must have looked confused because she then proceeds to tell me it’s mixed gender and we will all be together the whole time. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m very comfortable with nudity and in my own skin. I grew up playing sports with shared showers and have worked hard in the kitchen and gym since I was a teen and know I look good without clothes on. Not to mention blessed below the waist.

But being completely naked with my girlfriends family who I just met had me a little rattled. I was like how did you not mention this to me. She was like honestly it’s so normal for us I didn’t even think of it. She then tells me her mom and sisters have been chatting about how the American will handle it (because of the stereotype of how Americans are weird about nudity, which they are).

I’m usually one of the most calm, cool and collected people but that actually rattled me a little more. Long story short it obviously ended up being totally fine. They and everyone else is so use to it fitting in was easy. Afterwards she was like told you it would be fine. I agreed and said I wasn’t worried, just didn’t expect to see your mom and sisters racks this weekend 😂

Had lunch with Jadyn today. The former stranger. I got there first. Half twelve means half twelve. Found a table near the window and put my waistcoat on the chair opposite. Her spot.

I stood to greet her when she arrived at 12:39.

“Before you ask,” she said, sitting down immediately, “I forgot your plant.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” I said. It wasn’t the start I’d been hoping for.

“You were looking at my hands.”

Fair. She said she’d forgotten to bring it because she’d been away for the weekend and only got back late last night.

“It’s still alive, though,” she assured.

“He’s tougher than he looks.”

“I know. He told me.”

That lightened the mood a little. Wonder where she went. And who with. Could’ve been family. Friends. Somewhere by herself. She seems like someone who’d go away by herself.

“Right, lunch! What are we having?” I asked. She picked the same ham and mature Cheddar sandwich as last time. I asked if she was going to examine all of them again.

“You have to,” she said. “Some of them have too much mayonnaise on one side.”

“The bastards. That’s awful.”

She held up one of the rejects. “Look. Uneven.”

She was right.

I went for the pastrami. I offered to get them both, but Jadyn insisted on paying for her own. I liked that. Grabbed a couple of bags of crisps for us to share instead.

Back at the table, we discussed sandwich construction properly. Jadyn believes cheese should always sit under the wettest ingredient because it protects the bread. Sensible. She likes ham, mustard, mature Cheddar, red onion, and a small amount of rocket.

She doesn’t like pickle, which was disappointing, but nobody’s perfect. I asked the obvious next question.

“What do you put on a fry-up?”

She stopped chewing. “Is this an interview?”

“It’s more of a breakfast compatibility assessment.”

“Are you planning on having breakfast with me? Beans. Lots of beans.”

I put my sandwich down. “On the plate? Loose?”

She laughed. “What do you mean, loose?”

“Not contained.”

“They’re beans, Jolon. Not radioactive waste.”

I explained the benefits of a ramekin. She disagreed with almost everything I said, although she accepted that bean juice touching toast too early could become a problem.

We talked about work after that. She’s helping with a project on the nineteenth floor for a few months, which explains why she keeps appearing in different places like an expensive ghost. She said she likes the actual work but hates all the meetings around it. 

Finally, something we agreed on. 

Jadyn wants to do something more creative eventually. Not sure what yet. Something where she can finish a day and point at an actual thing she made rather than a PowerPoint deck. She told me she once had to redo an entire presentation because somebody senior decided the circles on one slide looked “too aggressive”.

“What colour were they?” I asked.

“Red.”

“I can see that.” I nodded.

She kicked me under the table. I think. Could’ve been the table leg. We somehow got onto school next. She was good at art and terrible at maths. I told her I was good at most things but deliberately underperformed because I didn’t agree with the teaching methods.

“You deliberately flunked it?”

“I rejected the framework.”

“Did you pass anything?”

“I accidentally did alright at Philosophy.”

There was a gentleness to it all. No awkward silences. I’d say something, Jadyn would laugh. Then she’d tell me something, and I’d listen and ask about it. Normal human interaction. We’d been sitting there for almost an hour when she checked the time and swore out loud.

“I’ve got a call.”

“You’ve always got a call!”

“I do my job. I’ve heard about you, Mr Fairweather.”

That took me aback. “All good, I assume?”

That got the biggest laugh of the date. Then she got up to leave. I stood up with her, but she was already off. When she got to the door, she looked back and said, “This was fun, Jolon. We should do it again.”

“I can do Wednesday?”

“Maybe one day next week,” she called over her shoulder.

And just like that, Jadyn was gone. She didn’t touch the crisps I got. Maybe she doesn’t like salt and vinegar. Quite a good day, really. Will try and find us somewhere a bit nicer for next week. 

On a random day, I was walking with three of my friends while one of them was going on and on about locks. Locks? Yes, locks. I was not exactly sure what she was saying about locks - probably something illegal - but we all pretended to care. We crossed a street to walk to the store. Before we went inside, we all took a pause, and I noticed that we were pretty much in the way of people passing by, so I tried to move out of the way. As I made my way to get out of the way, I almost ran into a gentleman who, as soon as he saw me, gave me a big smile. Then he says, "Whoa, you are beautiful..." He then looks me up and down and says, "In pink." I was thinking more like pretty in pink. That I actually said out loud, but he says, "Not pretty, you're beautiful." I was a deer caught staring at headlights. Luckily, my friend stepped in. She says, "She is my b****." Catching both me and the other person off guard. When he turned to look at her, he looked mad, she asked him, "What is your profession?" He went back to smiling when he said, "A locksmith."I cannot make these things up. She was like, "Hold on. Wait. Did you say a locksmith?" He now looked proud and puffed out his chest, "Yeah." He turned to look at me, but my friend put her arm over his shoulders. She said to him, "You're my new best friend." Then she started walking him away. With that, I said bye to my other two friends and made my way to whatever I was going. What are the odds of that happening. My poor friend was going on and on about locks, and I almost ran into one that she could actually get answers from. Coincidence or by design?

Recently I decided to travel the entirety of Mount Tamalpais and Point Reyes on a whim, inspired by my recent trip to China. I gather my cohorts, all fives of them, on a very cramped Mercedes to travel at 4am throughout the entirety of Bolinas region. During my hike to up to Mount Tamalpais, I entered the restroom to prepare for the 13 miles hike ahead. Whilst in the lavatory, minding my own business, I suddenly hear a distant sound of Metallica Enter Sandman slowly approaching my area. Shocked, and perhaps even perturbed, I look over to see my good friend Ryan, whom I had a lot of respect for --not anymore, carrying a Bose speaker attached to his backpack blasting his own theme song in the urinal. Bewildered, I washed my hand only to hear Enter Sandman by Metallica even louder as the speakers now faces outward as it is attached to his backpack. I hurriedly tried to disassociate with my fellows out of shame. My effort was in vain however, as throughout the entire 13 miles hike, I was chased by ever increasing volume of metal and industrial music. God awful, I have chosen poor companies for my nature exploration trip. I also had distinctive memory of some random frat guys with their own speakers meeting our group, and it was like two territorial animals fighting over the serene atmosphere of the glorious mountain with verbose and obnoxious music. It was a halfway decent trip.

After looking in a mirror, this dude decided he needed a haircut.

The dude drove to the nearest barber shop, called The Hungry Barber.

He sat down in a leather seat, and up behind him came a tall, slender man.

“Hello sir.”

No this sucks.

Time to discuss education.

No, I meant Ed Uccasion.

Ed Uccasion brutally ripped a fart in this random house, murdering the whole family.

He was arrested on October 27th. By that I mean today (as I’m writing this. Hi!)

The witness (there’s only one) said this:

“Ruff, bark, boff boff, bark, ruff, whimper.”

Or in french:

Comment voulez-vous que je le sache, je suis un chien!

Or spanish:

¿Cómo esperas que sepa, soy un perro?

Not english because no.

Anyway, they used tis evidence to transport the witness, Fido, to Antartica, where he promptly died.

I was completely focused, entirely cut off from the outside world. Things had finally reached the point I'd been waiting for in the film I'd been watching for a full hour, and I was at the height of my concentration. The detective, who had been tracking down the culprit for the past hour, was now very close to catching and exposing him, and I was incredibly curious. He was about to open the door, walk in, and discover the culprit's identity. I was moments away from finding out whether my suspect was right.

When we look at something, we also see what's to our left and right, albeit vaguely. While watching the television directly in front of us, we can perceive the fan a meter to its right swiveling from side to side. Other objects and movements become blurrier as they move farther away from the center of our field of vision. Everyone knows this and is usually aware of it. Even if your grandfather, sitting to your right at dinner, isn't looking at you, he'll notice if you secretly flip off your brother sitting across from you.

At that moment, the world was nothing more than a rectangle to me. My field of vision had no depth. Ten eagles could have been flying around the room, and I wouldn't have noticed them unless they passed in front of the screen. I had to find out who the culprit was.

Even if you bring your eyes into sharp focus, your ears can't do the same and remain even more open to the outside world than your eyes. When you listen to a song you love, your ears become fully absorbed in it, and your eyes join in, too. You drift away, and your field of vision narrows. But your ears can't join your eyes in doing the same.

“Albert, shut your laptop,” I heard a whisper just as the detective was about to open the door.

At first, I thought it had come from the film. There was no character named Albert in it, and the laptop had very little to do with the plot, but still, I didn't want to take my eyes off the screen before the detective opened that door. However, I'd started thinking by then. A new thought had formed in my mind, and it had weakened my focus. I would enjoy finding out who the culprit was a little less.

I paused the film. I was still looking at the screen, but my field of vision had widened and become rounded again.

I thought I saw a ripple on my right. A moving, blurry image, about a meter in size.

When I turned my head to look, there was nothing there. I looked back at the screen. I thought to myself that being this focused wasn't good either. It bothered me that I was experiencing a mental activity so intensely when the only reason for it was a film. Was finding out who the culprit was really that important? I never focused this intensely when writing my stories, working on a thesis I had to finish, or learning Spanish in the course I'd recently started. That was probably why I'd heard the whisper, too. It was a trick of my mind.

I turned back to the screen. My desire to find out had diminished. Reluctantly, I pressed play.

But then I saw that ripple again. A transparent, shapeless thing, moving randomly. Like a transparent fire, its movements resembled those of a burning flame. I pressed pause.

When I turned my head to the right, it wasn't there again.

A sense of unease had come over me. I stared at the spot where the blur had been. There was no movement at all. All the objects stood still, just as they were.

This time, I saw the same ripple on my left, right in front of the laptop on my lap. I sharply turned my eyes back to the screen. Nothing. The detective walking toward the door, the confident expression on his face. That was all.

I set the laptop aside. I threw off the blanket I'd pulled up to my chest, got out of bed, and sat down at my desk.

I picked up my Spanish dictionary and opened it to a random page to calm myself down a little. I read a few words. The ripple was above me. I looked up at the ceiling, and now it was on the left. I turned to the left, and it moved to the right. Its size changed every time. Sometimes it was a one-meter rectangle, sometimes a scattered circle ten centimeters in diameter, and sometimes a thick line stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

I left the room, and it was on my right, in the shape of a circle. I couldn't get rid of it. My palms were sweating. Now it was on my left. I kept turning my head from side to side, up and down. And I could never bring it into my vertical field of vision; it was always outside it.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my T-shirt. Now it was above me. I tried closing my eyes. But I couldn't. The moment I closed them, a sharp fear would immediately take hold of me, and I'd open them again before even two seconds had passed. My gaze had grown much faster now. Left, right, up, left, down, right, up. I was looking around like crazy. I was like a camera trying to bring an image into focus.

I finally ended up with a stiff neck after one wrong movement.

I could no longer turn my head to the left.

And the ripple was on my left.

I turned to the left with my whole body. It stayed on my left. I turned left once more. It slipped to my left again.

I had turned a full circle. Now it only appeared on my left. It seemed to have found my weak spot. Every time I turned, I instinctively turned my neck a little, too. You know what a stiff neck is like. It's quite painful and sudden. During the day, you forget that your neck is stiff, and if someone calls out to you from your left, you turn to look at them. You feel that sharp little ache.

So I stopped trying to catch it. It stayed on my left, rippling. Sometimes it stretched out, sometimes it shrank, and sometimes it disappeared quickly and reappeared. I moved my pupils as far to the left as I could. Yes, now it had moved to the right, because my field of vision on the left had been reduced to zero.

Now only my pupils were moving. But the image was even closer. And it was getting closer and closer.

Finally, while I was looking straight ahead, I saw it. It hadn't gone away. It's impossible to describe its shape.

“I'm x56 c 66 bmf 8 bmd 8 g 9 kdr 8 889 klkw 999 c 3 d 3 v 3 m 3 g 3 o 3 12345. Thank you for playing with me. By the way, the killer is Michael,” said a voice from very far away, heavily echoing and robotic, sounding a little like a creaking door.

Without knowing why, I tried to catch it with my hand. It was an arm's length away. I'd acted impulsively out of excitement. And it vanished instantly.

The quick, deep breath I drew through my nose passed through my nose hairs and rubbed against my completely dried-out nasopharynx, producing a sound that was a mixture of a faint snore and a low-pitched whistle. I held the breath in my lungs for a while, then slowly exhaled.

I went back into my room, sat down in the armchair, and for some reason, burst into tears. It was like a catharsis. I couldn't remember ever crying this intensely before. Or maybe I was simply crying out of fear, but I wasn't sure that fear could trigger such an intense crying response.

I wiped my eyes, and just as I was about to get up to wash my face, the ripple began speaking from the ceiling, right next to the lamp. It had watched me cry the whole time. Strange.

“If you want to play with me again, all you have to do is look in the mirror and say my name three times, and don't worry, your memory will be erased by tomorrow evening. You'll only remember my name. You'll try to figure out what the hell it was, whether it was your old Wi-Fi password or something. Anyway, Albert, I'm out of here. Take care. It was nice meeting you.”

Last night, I had a call from a private number around 12am. Initially, I rejected it because I was alseep then I realised private call - late at night. You don't know who it could be.

I pick up the phone and am told it is my [Local] Police Station. To preface I am underage. Then they go on about how they've had a mental health concern from a close friend and needed to check in. They double check my name first AND last.

At this point I'm stunned because do I speak alot of shit? Yes. About my parents? Certainly! But it's never been a wellbeing concern so I ask can they disclose who's made the report and they say they can't and are they ok to do a home visit this Tuesday. I let them know my mom is away and it has been processed by HMRC so no one will be home then. They ask are you alone at home and I let them know I'm with my dad but his work hours won't allow that and am thinking what shit has my friend got me and my family into.

At this point, my sister is getting worried and has woken up. They let me know they are able to let me know who filed the report. First and last name again. They give me a number to contact. 10 digits. They ask me do I have any questions. I am just trying to go to bed then I get told it's TalkTalk Radio. The laugh of relied I let out. They go through the procedural question of do you want this to be used on Facebook etc.

At this point they ask, so is this a get back thing or just a silly prank. I tell them 'not that I know of'. Odd question but you never know with these talk shows. The person on the other end let's me know that apparently there's 'beef' and I've been seen with her ex within the past 6 days.

The confusion on my face was evident because I don't fuck with any guy let alone said girls ex. So I relay I'm not seeing anyone. 'Are you sure?' That aggravated me more than anyone will know because I am very vocal about my dislike for him and he is an ex of hers because of my constant input.

'I don't like [ex] and [friend] knows that. I hate his guts and anyone who knows me knows that.' I then hear a prompt 'fuck you' and the line is cut. The whole thing reeked mystery meat and fever dream vibes. Can't believe someone woke me up for that nonsense but he's getting reported to the school for harassment became TalkTalk radio show isn't real as I suspected and that number doesn't look promising. I've yet to figure out how he got ahold of my number either. He has a history of creepy behaviour.

So my brother wanted to hang some of his guitars on his wall about 10 years ago.

So instead of buying mounts for them my Dad decided to take a screw and drilled the back of his guitars into the wall.

So just like that my brother's four guitars got wrecked because my dad didn't know about mounts or anything to keep them up. So two electrics, a base, and an acoustic probably about $800 then and now probably well over $1200 if it happened today, down the drain with four rusty screws.

Previously:

A family reunion brought old wounds to the surface, Michael's jealousy spiralled, and Mitchell took a risky turn.

Episode 16 Preview:

As hope for one family builds, hope spreads thin for another. Elsewhere, as a marriage hangs in the balance, Kylie makes a life changing discovery that leaves her in shock. And, Michael comes to terms with his true feelings.

19/01/1999 | Tuesday

———

03:11AM. The Strip. Shawcross General Shop.

———

Downstairs in the shop, is dark and quiet. Almost pitch black. Except for the orange glow from the streetlights outside slightly peeking its way through the barred windows and caged front door.

And the constant quiet hum of the fridges and freezers in the shop. Doing their job constantly.

Michael sits on the floor, leaning back against the counter, crying. And drinking.

A bottle of Jack Daniels almost empty in his right hand, his other hand wiping tears on his drunk face. He sniffles, crying about himself. About his life. About who he is and what he wants.

Not that he does know what he wants...

———

05:23AM. Flat 34, Marlas Flats, Marlas Estate. Mitchell's Flat

———

Mitchell's fast asleep in his bed, where he and Alex both fell asleep after having extremely intoxicated intercourse. He's snoring away, still in yesterday's clothes. Reeking of booze and heartbreak.

His flat is all in darkness. Quiet too. Except for the usual noise outside in the estate below.

SLAM!

He jolts wide awake and sees that Alex is gone

Mitchell: "Alex...?" He quietly groans

He slowly gets up, body feeling like concrete

He walks out of his room and down the small hallway

Mitchell: "Alex?" He rubs his eyes

And turns into the living room to see it slightly turned over

He's been robbed

His eyes stretch fully awake now

Mitchell: "Alex!?"

Things have been moved and thrown about. It's a mess. Not a devastation like what happened at number 33 though.

He runs deeper into the living room and starts scanning and scrambling through the mess.

Slowly, he notices small things missing. Things aren't where they used to be. Things like loose change, accessories, some shoes, fags, small stuff like that.

He sprints to the front door, yanks it open–

Mitchell: "ALEX!" he shouts down the hall

He takes a few steps down one direction of the hallway

Mitchell: "ALEX!" he shouts again

And somewhere from someone's nearby flat, someone shouts; "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Mitchell rolls his eyes and sighs, disappointed about what's happened. He walks back into his flat and slams the door shut behind him. Echoing fown the hall.

———

11:19AM. Number 27. The Slater Residence. Living Room.

———

On one of the two three seater green sofas, Georgina lies tangled and weaved in and out of the thick duvet, asleep and in last night's clothes too. Hungover from her night out with Kylie.

Her makeup is smudged and clothes reek of booze.

On the other sofa, sits Kelly and Danielle, both quietly chatting and eating cereal.

The noise from the kitchen is loud though. Same as yesterday. Chatter, cooking, music and laughter.

SMASH!

Someone can be heard dropping a mug on the kitchen floor

Georgina sturs awake and her eyes flutter open and she groans like a zombie

She turns around on her side and faces the living room

Danielle: "Fucking Hell" she laughs

Kelly: "Good night last night was it?" She teases

Georgina: "From what I remember" she jokes as she slowly sits up

Kelly and Danielle look at each other

Georgina leans forward and rubs her face with her hands

Georgina: "God it's bright..." she whispers

Then, Julie walks in from the hallway, out from the kitchen

Julie: "Oh! So you are alive?" She teases

Georgina: "Don't start" she mutters under her breath

Julie: "Here, I brought you a cuppa. Presuming you can keep it down. Good for hangovers they are"

Julie places the cup of tea on the coffee table in the middle of the room

Georgina: "Cheers sis" she whispers and winces her eyes

Julie looks her sister up and down

Julie: "I don't know how mam and dad deal with you" She smirks

Georgina: "That's why I got my own flat innit. Get out of their hair"

Kelly: "You always look like a corpse after a night out?"

Georgina: "Hey, that's a sign of a good night out that is. And you think I'm bad? I dread to see what Kylie's like"

Julie: "Oh God. Why? What did you do?"

Georgina: "She only had a few drinks and she came chucking up all over me"

The other's faces wince

Georgina: "Couldn't even keep a kebab down afterwards"

———

11:43AM. Number 41. Maureen's Home.

———

On the sofa in Maureen's living room, Kylie is in the same state as Georgina. If not, worse.

Theres a bucket on the floor by the side of the sofa, with some sick in it.

Maureen stands in the kitchen, drinking tea and having some breakfast.

Kylie slowly sits up and slouches into the kitchen and walks up to the sink

Maureen: "Blimey"

Kylie: "I feel worse than I look" she whispers

Maureen: "Gathered that" she giggles

Kylie washes her face with cold tap water

Maureen: "Want any–"

Kylie: "For the love of God dont say breakfast"

Maureen: "I'll take that as a no" she smiles and sits at the small table

Kylie leans against the kitchen sink

Maureen: "I dread to ask, but what did you two get up to last night?"

Kylie: "Not that much. We just went bar crawling really. I almost pulled too. But then threw up all over Georgina's shoes"

Maureen's face winces

Kylie: "I know. I dont know why, but i can't handle my drink anymore like I used to. Only recently. For the past week or so, i feel sick all the time"

Maureen: "Might need to get you checked out, is it?"

Kylie: "Yeah, maybe"

———

1:19PM. The Strip. Shawcross General Shop.

———

Behind the counter, Yvonne is fiddling with a clipboard and a pen, while Michael restocks a shelf in the far corner of the small shop.

Although his back is to her, he can feel eyes on him. After he finishes stocking up a shelf with cleaning products, he picks an empty box up and turns to face the counter where he and his wife make eye contact for a second.

Yvonne speaks up

Yvonne: "Where'd you get off to last night?"

She asks quietly

Michael ignores her and puts the empty box in the store room, and grabs another full box of produce

He walks back in the shop

Yvonne: "Michael? Michael im talking to—"

Michael: "What do you care?" He asks bluntly, heading to finish stocking up a shelf

Yvonne walks from out behind the counter and walks up to him

Yvonne: "I care because im your wife"

Michael: "And thats how you speak to your husband is it? By laughing in his face and telling him you don't want kids with him" he sarcastically asks

Yvonne: "I...you caught me off guard okay? I just didnt expect it. Its nothing that we really spoke about before. I didn't know what to say" she says

Michael: "So you make me feel like I'd be a terrible father, is that it?"

Yvonne sighs

Yvonne: "Look, im sorry. Okay? I really am. What i said– it was wrong. I was just scared..."

Michael: "Scared?" He turns to her

Yvonne: "W– well yeah..."

Michael: "Why?"

Yvonne: "Kids. Its a big thing. No? And we're not exactly flush with cash. Kids are expensive"

Michael: "Yeah...suppose. Why would you want a kid with me anyway?" He digs at her, before turning back to the shelf

Yvonne goes to speak again but the bell jingles above the door and Yvonne takes that as her queue to walk away

She walks past Sunita who's in the fridge grabbing butter, milk and sausages

Seconds after Yvonne steps behind the counter again, Sunita walks up go the counter, pushing her black glasses further up on her nose

Sunita: "Afternoon Yvonne darling. You okay? I sense a...weird energy"

Yvonne: "Hi Sunita. Yeah. Yeah I'm..."

She sighs

Yvonne: "I'm fine" she starts grabbing Sunita's items and scanning them

Sunita checks behind her and whispers to Yvonne

Sunita: "How's things with..." she nods at her stomach

Yvonne looks at Michael at the back of the shop, who's in a world of his own

Yvonne: "I made an appointment yesterday morning for an abortion" she whispers

Sunita nods

Sunita: "You sure you want to go through with it?" She whispers

Yvonne: "What other choice have I got?" She jokingly whispers

Sunita: "Yvonne, darling. You always have a choice. Always"

Yvonne listens

Sunita: "Just like you have a choice to tell—"

Yvonne: "I'm not telling him Sunita. We're already in a bad place as it is and we dont need anything else driving a wedge between us right now" she cuts her off

Sunita: "A baby will do that? Really? Think about it sweetheart. Maybe a baby is—"

Yvonne: "A baby is not what we need, Sunita. Okay?" She quietly asks

Sunita nods

Sunita: "Okay. Im sorry" she whispers

Yvonne: "Don't be. You're just looking out for me" she quietly smiles at her

Yvonne rings the receipt up.

Yvonne: "That's four seventy five please"

Sunita fishes out the money from her patterned fabric purse and hands it to Yvonne.

Sunita whispers: "When is your appointment?"

Yvonne: "Tomorrow. At four o'clock" she whispers

Sunita gasps quietly

Sunita: "Tomorrow?? Lord that's quick"

Yvonne nods and looks down at the counter

Yvonne: "I know" she whispers

Theres a question that Sunita has trouble asking, but she manages

Sunita: "Would...would you like me to go with you? For support..." she asks quietly

Yvonne: "No. No thank you Nita. Thank you anyway though. It means a lot. Really. I just...i think its something that i have to do alone. You know? But thank you" she smiles quietly

Sunita: "Of course darling. Im here anytime" she places her hand on Yvonne's before leaving the shop

———

2:03PM. Victoria Arms Pub.

———

The pub is quiet, only a few locals seated here and there.

Behind the bar is Eddie and Jenna. Jenna's serving Jim a pint while Eddie is drying glasses with a cloth before putting them on the overhead rack.

Jenna: "Here we are Jim"

Jim: "Cheers" he mutters

Jenna slowly walks up to Eddie and smiles

Jenna: "You okay?"

Eddie: "Yeah. Fine thank you darling" he smiles back at her

A long silence sits there, like there's something they both want to say

Jenna: "You know you can talk to me, yeah?"

Eddie: "I know" he nods and smiles

Eddie: "Thank you lovely. Same goes for you"

Jenna nods and goes to walk away

Jenna: "Oh also–" she turns back to facing him

Jenna: "You used to do food here didn't you?"

Eddie: "Yeah. Donkeys years ago. Why?"

Jenna: "Well i was thinking, my mum's looking for work and she has loads of experience in the kitchen. Even some in this pub's kitchen. She did the buffet for the estate's 30th didnt she. And well...i was thinking, why dont we make a menu or something. Sunday roasts, breakfasts maybe, stuff like that"

Eddie: "Wow look at you going! You've only been working here a few days and already talking about 'we' and what have you!" He giggles

Jenna: "Oh, sorry. I thought– I was just trying– sorry if I overstepped" she awkwardly giggles

Eddie: "No no. You didnt. I actually like it. You're taking initiative. Its impressive. Bold" he smiles

Jenna: "Yeah?" Her face lights up a bit

Eddie: "Yeah"

They smile at each other

Eddie: "Tell you what, the kitchen could do with some staff again. Could do with getting some cobwebs blown off too. So, why dont you, and your mum if she's interested, make a list of menu's or something. Jot some ideas down and run them by me when you're finished, and we can come up with something" he smiles

Jenna: "Aw great! Thanks Eddie!"

Eddie: "Don't mention it!" He giggles softly

———

3:15PM. St Anne's Hospital. Jamie's Room.

———

The afternoon is grey and still. Nicola sits beside Jamie's bed, her coat folded over the back of the chair, her eyes swollen and red. She hasn't bothered fixing her hair. Barry sits beside her, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. Neither has spoken for several minutes. The steady beeping of the monitor fills the silence.

Nicola gently strokes Jamie's hand.

Nicola: "He's so cold."

Barry: "He's alright, love."

Nicola: "He doesn't feel alright."

Barry looks at his son. His mouth opens slightly, but nothing comes out. He reaches for Nicola's shoulder instead, pulling her towards him. She leans into him, her face crumpling against his shirt.

Nicola: "I just want him to wake up."

Barry: "I know. Me too"

Nicola: "I can't keep doing this, Barry."

Barry closes his eyes. He presses his lips to the top of her head, holding her tightly, but his own face is wet.

A quiet knock interrupts them. The doctor steps inside, carrying a clipboard.

Doctor: "Mr and Mrs Jenkins. I wanted to give you a quick update."

Nicola sits upright immediately, wiping her cheeks with the heel of her hand. Barry takes her hand beneath the edge of the bed.

Doctor: "There's been no significant change in Jamie's condition. He's stable at the moment, but he's still critically ill and remains unconscious."

Nicola: "So that's good, isn't it? That he's stable?"

Doctor: "It's better than seeing him deteriorate, certainly. But it doesn't tell us whether he's going to recover. We need to give him more time."

Barry: "How much more?"

Doctor: "I'm afraid I can't answer that. We'll continue monitoring him closely, but for now, we're waiting to see how he responds."

Nicola: "And...if he doesn't respond?"

The doctor pauses. He looks at Jamie, then back at her.

Doctor: "It's too early to draw any conclusions. I know that's not the answer you want, and I'm sorry."

Nicola nods, staring at him as though she's waiting for him to say something else. Something that will make all of this mean something. But he doesn't.

Barry: "Right. Thank you, Doctor."

The doctor leaves quietly.

Nicola looks back at Jamie. Her shoulders begin to shake, but she makes no sound. Barry pulls his chair closer and wraps an arm around her, resting his cheek against her hair.

Nicola: "We're no further forward, are we?"

Barry doesn't answer straight away.

Barry: "Don't think so love."

She takes Jamie's hand again, holding it against her chest.

Barry sits beside her, staring at his son, unable to promise her anything.

The monitor beeps.

Outside, the afternoon carries on. While the Jenkins family are fractured and barely hanging on by a thread.

———

4:17PM. St Anne's Hospital. Katie's Sick Bay.

———

At her bedside, sits Arthur, Gillian and Julie. Chatting away with Katie. A warm familiarity.

They've been here a while.

Katie's just filling them all in on what the doctors have planned for her.

Katie: "So yeah. They said its half an hour every day to start off with, and they said I'll have loads of support like railings and crutches and someone to hold onto and whatever, and then the better I get, the longer the session will take until I can walk properly again"

Arthur: "Ah fair play Katie, love"

Gillian: "Well done sweetheart"

Julie takes her daughter's hand and winks at her

Julie: "You'll be okay" she smiles

Katie: "I know. Just can't wait to get out of here" she smiles with a sigh

———

5:27PM. Number 41. Maureen's Home.

———

In the living room, Kylie sits on the sofa with her feet up, absentmindedly watching EastEnders, while Maureen prepares to pop to the shop.

She's at the door, putting her coat on and getting her trolley ready.

Maureen: "You sure you don't want anything now Kylie love?"

Kylie: "Nah ta. Thanks anyway" she says back

Maureen: "Alright then. I'll be fifteen"

Kylie: "Bye"

The front door closes and Kylie waits a few seconds before getting up, rushing over to the window and watches Maureen head down the street towards the Strip.

And as soon as Maureen's out of sight, Kylie runs upstairs and onto the landing, and then into the bathroom.

She bends down and forward and reaches her hand behind the toilet tank and pulls out a small blue plastic bag.

She then sits down on the toilet and opens the bag, and pulls out a small white rectangular box that says "Clearblue" on it.

Its a pregnancy test.

At the sight of the box, her heart starts pounding and she can feel her chest shake. Her whole body actually.

———

5:36PM. The Strip. Shawcross General Shop.

———

The shop is very quiet. Apart from the humming if the fridges and machinery. Yvonne is sat behind the counter and Michael is more or less walking around, looking for things to do. He's out of his mind. Mind racing about...everything

He's looking for anything to keep him occupied.

Eventually, he walks over to the counter and up to Yvonne.

Yvonne: "You okay?" She asks quietly

Michael: "Yeah" he says quietly

Michael: "You dont mind if I go out to the pub do you?" He asks quietly, in a gloomy tone

Yvonne clearly doesn't want him to but she puts his request first

Yvonne: "Yeah..." she sighs

Yvonne: "yeah go on then"

Michael: "Alright" he mutters, before heading to the door, taking his coat off the rack and right as he's about to open the door, it opens anyway, and Maureen walks in.

Maureen: "Alright Michael?" She asks politely, making small talk

Michael: "Yeah. Great" he mutters in a moody tone as he brushes past her and out the door

The door shuts behind them as Maureen steps into the shop and Michael walks towards the pub

Maureen: "Bloody Hell what's gotten into him?" She asks Yvonne who's sat behind the counter, exhausted

Yvonne: "...Don't know" she mutters. Even though she does know. Well...sort of.

———

5:49:PM. Number 41. Maureen's Home.

———

Upstairs in the bathroom, Kylie is pacing slowly. She then checks the time on her flip phone and sees that its been at least 22 minutes.

She gathers up the courage, inhales, sighs, and then walks up to the toilet tank where she put the pregnancy test face down.

After taking a deep breath, she picks it up, and turns it over.

Positive

She's pregnant.

Fuck...nonononono...what am I going to do???

Downstairs, the door opens and Maureen shouts up;

Maureen: "Kylie! I'm back!"

Kylie's stomach drops and she gets goosebumps. In a flash decision, she drops the pregnancy test in the small bin in the corner of the room, and covers it with some toilet paper and buries it with whatever's already in there.

Kylie: "Coming!"

———

8:47PM. The Victoria Arms Pub.

———

The pub is buzzing with its evening scene.

Loud music, people at the pool table, people at the dartboard, and people jotted around.

At the bar, Michael is already steaming. Barely able to speak a full sentence.

He finishes another drink. His seventh, at least.

He holds the glass up to the air without even looking up

Michael: "Ed! Ed! Edaaaayy!"

Eddie walks over to Michael quickly

Eddie: "Alright alright! Careful mate, keep it down. What is it? Same again?" He asks quietly

Michael: "Yup"

As Eddie starts pouring Michael's drink he notices the state Michael's in

Eddie: "You alright man? What's gotten into you?"

Michael: "Noth— nothing. Im fine. Fine, me. Why d'you ask?"

Eddie: "Have you seen yourself for starters? You barely come in here much and for the past few days, especially yesterday and today, you're knocking them back like there's no tomorrow"

Jenna: "You're giving Jim a run for his money" she jokingly chimes in

But Michael ignores her

Michael: "I...I dont know man. Im all over the place right now" he barely manages to say

Eddie: "Yeah. I can see that" he hands him the pint

Michael starts getting emotional

Michael: "I...I think me and Yvonne might be done" he sniffles

Eddie: "What? Why? What makes you say that?" He asks caringly

Michael: "I- i dont know. I don't...I dont know anything anymore. What makes her happy...what makes me happy...I forgot– we forgot how to be happy. I– I just miss her. I miss the way we used to be before we would fight all the time about God knows what..." he struggles to get his point across

Eddie watches him and listens. And realises that he and Michael aren't in such different boats after all.

Eddie: "Let me ask you something"

Michael looks up from the bar

Eddie: "What makes you happy, Michael? What keeps you...happy? Excited? What helps you from hitting the bottle and drowning your sorrows? Because i can tell you now, that finding your answers at the bottom of a glass won't get you too far"

Michael: "I...that's why im in this mess..."

Eddie: "What you mean?" He asks quietly

Michael: "Because i dont know anything anymore" he whimpers

Eddie: "Shhh sh sh. Come on. You're okay man. Come on. Perk up" he whispers to him.

Eddie: "Look, just try. Okay? That's all you can do, is try"

Michael: "Try what?"

Eddie: "Try whatever it is that makes you happy. And if it doesn't work, find something else. And you keep looking. You keep trying. Something's bound to" he smiles at him

Michael listens and nods

Eddie: "And when you find what makes you happy, help Yvonne find what makes her happy. Be happy, together"

Michael nods

Michael: "You know what...i– I think you're right" he slurs with a drunken smile

Eddie: "Yup. I always am" he sarcastically smiles

Michael gets up off the stool and almost falls but catches himself by holding onto the bar

Michael: "I'm okay. Im fine. Cheers for the drinks Eddie" he says politely before stumbling his way out of the pub

Eddie: "You're welcome. Any time mate! And be careful on your way home yeah!?"

Michael doesn't hear him, he's already out the door.

Jenna turns to him with a small smile

Jenna: "That was very nice of you. Fair play" she says with a soft smile

Eddie: "I kind of get how the bloke feels. I feel for him"

That sounds more sad than intended but he covers it with a sincere smile

Jenna smiles back

———

9:09PM. Number 41. Maureen's Home.

———

In the kitchen, Kylie and Maureen are both sat at the table, having a late dinner. Mash, gravy, peas and carrots.

They're both sat at the kitchen table and Maureen is chatting away about what happened when she went to the shop earlier, yapping about how tense things seemed between Michael and Yvonne and how awkward things seemed.

But Kylie is far, far away in her own world, not listening or taking in a word that Maureen is saying. Everything sounds muffled and she's daydreaming.

She's in a shock–like state. Mind reeling about what happened in the bathroom upstairs, not long ago.

I'm...pregnant

———

9:47PM. Downtown Streets. Near Pandora's Box Gay Bar.

———

The streets are loud and hectic with party-goers and traffic. With music, chatter and laughter spilling in and out from wherever.

Michael stumbles off a bus and onto a busy street where pubs and a few clubs seem to be bustling.

He walks up to a group of young lads outside a chippy

Michael: "Uh– excuse me! Do- d'you know where Pandora's...uh...Pandora's–"

"Pandora's Box?"

One of the young lads asks

Michael: "Yeah! Where is it?"

They all laugh at him

"Its right there mate" one of them says, pointing across the street and to the right a bit

"Dirty fucker" one of them mutters under his breath

Michael: "Th– thank- thank you!" He shouts, running across the road

—

As he crosses the road he almost gets hit by a passing car but doesn't seem to notice. Or care.

He eventually makes his way into the overflowing gay bar. The music is absolutely thumping the walls and in people's chests.

The air is full of smoke, sweat and breath that smells of booze. Purple, red and blue lights beam people in the face and strobe lights dance across the room, along with men and women all dressed in fabulous outfits. This is a world that Michael is not used to. But yet here he is.

He sees some young athletic men dancing on two poles at the far back of the bar.

His heart drops and he starts pushing his way through the crowd, almost crying. Almost in tears.

Michael: "Mitchell!"

He pushes his way through with force

Michael: "Mitchell! Mitch—"

Michael: "Mitchell!" He eventually gets to the poles and he sees a young lad who looks a spit of Mitchell.

He runs up onto the small platform and grabs the dancer by the arm

Michael: "Mitchell–" the dancer stops, turns and looks at Michael.

Its not Mitchell.

"Get the fuck off me!" The dancer pushes Michael back into the crowd so hard that Michael falls flat onto the floor.

A burst of deep laughter erupts from the crowd

Michael gets up slowly, embarrassed but dedicated to find Mitchell

Michael: "S- sorry! Sorry..."

He then pushes his way through the crowd again, to the bar this time, where a young man in his early thirties with short dark brown hair and a small name tag "Reese" on his black shirt, is serving someone a cocktail.

Michael: "Excuse me!"

Reese doesn't notice

Michael: "Hey! Hello!? HEY!!"

Reese turns to him with a smile

Reese walks up to him

Reese: "Hiya mate what can I get ya!?" He shouts to Michael over the music

Michael: "Is there a Mitchell Thomas here!?"

Reese: "Who!?"

Michael: "Where's Mitchell!?"

Reese: "Mitchell Thomas!?"

Michael: "Yeah!"

Reese: "You'll have to wait a few minutes mate, he just went back there with a customer!" He nods to the curtain that hides a deep red lit, narrow hallway.

Michael sees the curtain and the deep saturated red light peeking through into the main bar. And immediately he knows what kind of stuff goes on back there...

Again, he starts pushing his way through the crowd

Reese: "You can't go in there without a dancer!" He shouts after Michael

But Michael doesn't turn back, he keeps going.

He eventually reaches the curtain, quickly pulls it aside and slips in

The red swallows him whole and on either side of the hallway are small dark rooms, that are also curtained over

From most of them, moaning, groaning and all sorts can be heard

He pulls back the first curtain–

Michael: "Mitchell!?"

No Mitchell

A man pulls the curtain back shut

Michael keeps walking

Michael: "Mitchell!? Mitchell!?"

After pulling back two more curtains of random men having sex

He finally reaches a curtain and when he pulls it back, he finds Mitchell. Giving it to some older bloke in his fifties from behind.

The older guy is almost screaming and Mitchell doesn't even see Michael there at first

Michael: "Mitchell...?" He asks quietly in shock

As soon as Mitchell hears and sees Michael, he stops, and pulls out of the older bloke.

Mitchell: "Woah– Michael!"

Michael's stomach drops and starts legging it out of the red hallway, and back into the crowded bar room. Where there's sweaty bodies dancing and bumping around together.

He pushes his way through the crowd, yet again–

Mitchell calls after him but he keeps on rushing his way through

Michael can feel himself retching, and he finally makes it back onto the street where the cold night air hits him in the face

———

9:56PM. Outside Pandora's Box Gay Bar

———

He stumbles out onto the pavement outside the club, runs to a drain against the wall and throws up.

He retches, and throws up again. A few onlookers watch and wince. While others laugh.

Mitchell walks up to him

Mitchell: "You're okay..." he says quietly, trying to comfort him

He goes to rub his back but Michael pushes him off.

After he finishes throwing up and takes a few breaths, he turns around and faces Mitchell

Mitchell: "I'm..." he whispers

Thinking about apologising

But–

BAM

Michael lands a punch straight in his face and sends him spinning

A few people gasp, others laugh and some cheer

Mitchell: "What the fuck was that for!?"

Michael goes to walk away

He takes a few steps down the busy street but Mitchell runs after him

Mitchell stops him and pulls him and turns him around

Mitchell: "Oi! Stop! Michael!"

He turns him around and sees the state he's in

Mitchell: "Jesus..."

Michael: "What? WHAT!? You happy? Ey? You done this! YOU!"

Mitchell: "Why did you come here, looking for me?" He asks quietly, while music thumps from the club behind them

Michael: "I dont– I dont know! I dont- i- i–" he starts hysterically crying

Mitchell is shocked. He'd never seen Michael like this

He pulls him in for a hug and Michael tries to fight him off

Michael: "I– I– I...I.......I......."

Mitchell holds his face with both hands and Michael holds his arms

They look at each other...

Michael: "I...I love you...." he whispers, he says looking directly into Mitchell's eyes. Michael's eyes red raw from crying and tears running down his face

A long intense silence stands between them both, with the sounds of nightlife surrounds them. Cheering, laughter, music, traffic, the usual.

But right here, right now, it just them two. And the truth. No matter how wrong or right it is.

Mitchell: "Finally..." he whispers with a big smile

Mitchell: "I love you too..."

They both stand there, hands holding onto each other, while the world moves around them, they're both still. In each other's eyes.

With a long, long road ahead of them...

———

And thats episode 16! I really hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading this far and as always any and all comments are much appreciated! Episode 17 will be out soon! ☺️

Before I get into this story, there are a few things I want the audience to know.
First, my grammar and English aren’t the best, so bear with me. Second, I won’t be using our real names. For this story, my name is Forrest and hers is Jenny. Third, this is a long story.
Jenny and I met on September 28 2025. A few days earlier, we had matched on Tinder. Around that time, I was seeing three women, including Jenny, and none of them knew about each other. Looking back, I know that was dishonest and selfish.
Jenny and I were together for about a month, and during that time, everything between us was good. We got along well and had a strong connection. She worked the night shift, so I would pick her up around 7:00 a.m. Afterward, we would go back to my apartment and stay there until about 3:00 p.m., when she had to pick up her son. Then I would drop her back off at work.
You can probably guess what happened at my apartment. It was fun, natural, and freeing. I genuinely enjoyed being around her. But the truth is, she was still only one of the three women I was seeing. That’s the part I’m ashamed of now.
Jenny had an autoimmune disease. At the time, I convinced myself that I couldn’t see a future with someone who had a serious medical condition. I imagined constant doctor visits and decided I didn’t want that kind of life.
Instead of being honest with her, I ghosted her. I blocked her on everything—Snapchat, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok—you name it.
About a month passed. I still remember November 30 like it was yesterday. Somehow, Jenny managed to contact me through Cash App. She had sent me $10 once, and she used the app to confront me.
She said, “Hey, asshole. I’m pregnant. If you don’t respond, I’m going to tell your mom.”
Looking back, I find it funny, even though the situation was also complicated and bittersweet.
That night, I reached out to her and unblocked her. We talked on the phone for a couple of hours. She gave me a choice: I could stay, or I could leave, and we would never have to speak again. She promised she wouldn’t contact me anymore.
She had considered not telling me at all, but she was angry that I had ghosted her—and rightfully so. She told me she had acted on emotion.
After thinking about it, I decided to stay.
I was raised in the South, and I had heard the saying, “Any boy can make a child, but it takes a man to raise one,” my entire life. Those words stayed with me. I knew leaving would be easier, but it wouldn’t be right.
I couldn’t live with the knowledge that there was a child in the world who might never know their father. So I made the decision to take responsibility for my actions. I was willing to give up the life I had been living—not because I wanted to, but because I believed it was the right thing to do.
For once, I wanted to stop thinking only about myself. I wanted to accept the consequences of my choices and try to become a better man. I had spent most of my life making selfish decisions, and I knew this was my opportunity to do something different.
On December 1, I told the other two women that I couldn’t continue seeing them. I was honest, even though it was difficult. I knew I was the bad guy in that situation, and I wasn’t proud of how I had treated any of them it was probably at that time the most difficult thing I had to do because I was owning up to something I willingly did to another human. It was painful knowing anyone has the ability to hurt someone like that. That’s what I had done.
But I also knew I had to change, not just for myself, but for the unborn child. I had to kill the ego of the old man that I had been and become a man that was worth having a child and then being able to look up to you. Atleast in my mind that’s what I thought.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to do the right thing.
There’s much more to this story, and honestly, some of it is difficult to talk about. Maybe something good can still come from all of this.
Please hold off on judgment until you hear the rest. But this is America, so you’re welcome to say whatever you want.

Maybe I can make a part 2 today or tomorrow, we’ll see how engaged people are. My hope is that this story was put on the right Reddit thread.

I believe this goes under help category also.

My fiancee received dick picks for 3 months .

So we started drawing hats, sombreros, caps, Stetsons, Christmas hats, you name it and we added to his tiny willy..

This lasted almost 3 months and we send these modified pics back to him and because we were quite certain who this Finn was, and he proud of his circa 8cm ( circa 12 inch 🍆 in full parade stand mind you )

We send him his picks back with hats attached, almost 3 months and we did not just added hats, we place his willy in all over world. Washington., New York, Istanbul, feeding reindeers in finnish Lappland with caption not a carrot although same color..

Australian cost where fishing community asked to replicate his willy for better fish luck ( apparently looked like bass favorite worm bate)

Eventually he blocked us and called us sickos. That was really unrealistic and fucked up thoughts. ( mind you, he was sending dick pics to stranger with no provocation ja one week of askinghim to stop!)

Did we went too far?

So a few weeks ago, I was playing games with my friends when one of them accidentally shared his screen. I noticed a group chat with pretty much everyone in our friend group except me.
I didn’t say anything because I figured maybe it was just for a game or something.
But then I started noticing little things.
I’d ask if anyone wanted to hang out, and everyone would say they were busy. Then I’d go on Snapchat later and see them all hanging out together.
At first, I thought I was overthinking it, so I just stopped asking.
A few days went by, and nobody really texted me first. That honestly hurt more than I expected.
Then one of my friends randomly texted me asking if I was mad at everyone. I told him I wasn’t mad, but I’d noticed they kept hanging out without me.
He said I was getting the wrong idea and told me to talk to another friend in the group.
So I did.
He told me the group chat was originally made to plan a surprise birthday party for me. Apparently, everyone just kept using it afterward to make plans.
The thing is, my birthday had already passed, and now I was wondering why nobody had thought to include me in anything since then.
I don’t know if they’re telling the truth or just trying to make me feel better.
I haven’t confronted the whole group because I don’t want to start drama if there’s actually an explanation.
But at the same time, it’s hard not to feel like I’m the only one who considers these people close friends.
Am I overthinking this, or would you be upset too?

So I was told I’m a good storyteller, I want to read you guys stories on my tik tok🥴 what’s some crazy stories all stories will remain anonymous I’m a very not biased person so I will give my honest opinion. NO JUDGE FREE ZONE HERE 🥴. I’m an introvert and wheeww I have some stories to tell but I want to create a platform where we all can be crazy together🤣🤣🤣 so leave it on the floor what’s some stories yall have we gone do different segment this first segment is “ TAKE IT TO THE GRAVE” something you’ve never told anyone and kind of was embarrassed or felt bad about lol we airing it out today🥴

Their names were Mortimer and Jenkins.

Twin engines pulled out of Volkswagen Rabbits and stuck on the main raft with propellers to give us whatever two rabbits works out to in horsepower. I'd only been on board a day or two when I was recruited to swap out a CV joint on one of them, Jenkins I believe it was. I'm not much of a mechanic but there wasn't too much to it beyond a few bolts and the old righty-tighty lefty-loosie.

Of course it helped immensely that the pair of them were situated al fresco - I don't think I would have fared as well up to my elbows in rusting out auto body.

We were trying to get ship shape for a trip through the last lock and dam into the environs of Saint Louis. There had already been doubts expressed by the Coast Guard, the arbiters of riparian law, as to our ability to safely navigate the river and they'd had us pull off a couple figure eights and similar maneuvers like a field sobriety test on a Brobdingnagian scale.

Not that it meant much, once we cleared that last lock and dam we'd be on the Lower Mississippi, a different beast entirely than the relatively placid upper reaches. If that wasn't bad enough, a seasonal detour around the Chain of Rocks meant that we'd find ourselves downriver from our destination and would somehow have to fight our way upstream. At least we wouldn't have to attempt this feat under our own steam - the Coast Guards had magnaminously offered to help us with a tow.

The rafts were of diverse shapes and sizes like a strange pod of assorted whales and dolphins, but after a prophetic dream was visited upon one of our shipmates we'd been undertaking longer trips in tandem, lashed together in what was dubbed "Voltron Mode". This was all well and good for drifting downstream but it probably wasn't the best way to take a shot at being dragged up it.

C'est la vie. You live and you learn, as they say.

Let's set the scene by briefly going over the nautical terms for the different sides of a boat, for those that might not be familiar. Pretend you're the vessel in question: your nose is the bow, your butt's the stern and your left and right hands are port and starboard respectively. If you've followed this far and can tie a half hitch you're already about as salt of a sailor as I was.

I was on the engine raft, and don't fully recollect the positions of all the auxiliary pieces, but all together it made for something of a swimming city and a fair bit of drag. The Coast Guard had made a noose out of chain and wrapped it around our bow, and from this one point they endeavored to pull the whole assemblage. We fired up our assorted smaller outboards, for what they were worth, and a friendly fisherman had thrown in to help push with his aluminum jon boat on the starboard side.

Things got off to a good start but took a turn when we had to pass under a bridge and the current accelerated between the pylons. For several minutes the various forces amounted to a stalemate, equal and opposing, and we neither gained nor lost ground. When the shit hit the fan it did so both fore and aft.

Mortimer and Jenkins had been sitting silently up to this point, but now we tried to coax them to life in an effort to break the tug of war, well actually just Jenkins as Mortimer was apparently out of commission. Jenkins wasn't faring a whole lot better and me and her chief engineer, one Ellery Neon, were feverishly working the choke valve to get her to turn over.

At this precise moment the chain collar, unable to pull the rafts forward, instead pulled the bow underwater which washed out the contents of several crew member's cubbies. As fate would have it one of these belonged to Ellery Neon and contained a chunky pair of platforms he used in drag performances. A shoe collided with Jenkins' propeller just as it started to turn.

There was a sick sound of rending metal as the shaft bent at an unnatural angle and a black cloud of oil rose to the water's surface.

This all transpired on the starboard side, and a stray piece of line also found its way to the motor on the jon boat, fouling that propeller as well albeit less permanently. Over on the port side Santiago, one of several aspiring photographers, was standing in a small skiff and endeavored to come to our side to render some form of aid. An error was made in untying him and the small boat spun helplessly and sank around his ankles, causing him to desparately clamber on board the larger raft for safety.

Amid these smaller disasters came a larger one, the Coast Guard's tow line snapped and the rafts finally sprung to motion, rushing toward one of the concrete pylons.

While it was the fastest, it was not the first time something like this had happened, and various poles lay about the deck for the purpose of fending, or pushing away, from such obstacles. A call went out for all hands to take up poles and prepare to fend but the Coast Guard had other ideas:

"Bely that order! Grab the most solid thing you can find toward the center of the raft and brace for impact!"

It was probably a safer idea, all things considered, but miraculously the impact never came. They were able to attach a second tow line in a manner of seconds but this time around any attempt at forward progress was abandoned. Instead we were deposited back on the very East Saint Louis beach we'd started from that morning, the first of many groundhog days.

The plan to cross the highway was discarded almost the instant he had formulated it. In truth, he was pretty tired. So, instead of crossing the road and exploring around for a spot, he decided he would stay this side of it and use a spot he had hung out in before though not sleep in. It was a little hollow with a naturally occurring trail leading gently down a slope to a spot between four trees that was perfect for chilling, sleeping and all around vibing. It had its fair share of concealment too. Important consideration if he wished to have a small pit fire. The darkness was starting to settle now. Directly into his pores. The good kind of dark. The kind that signals completion. Time for rest. Time for contemplation. His day had been one for the books. A good day. But one that had a somberness as well that sat just under the surface of his present consciousness. She was always there it seemed. Even when she wasn't. At the moment though, it was time to get down to the hollow, unpack, and get vibing. He was looking forward to it.

He made his arrangements with an eye for both comfort and an eye for quick evacuation if need be. There was an avenue of escape that went further down the slope away from the main trail into deeper and thicker bush. He had actually timed his ability to leave a spot rapidly. WITH, key point here, everything he would need for an indeterminate period of evasiveness and getting away from any human fuckery he may encounter out in the woods. He had it down to 75 seconds. Too long still if surprised by, oh I don't know, meth heads or land owners or general fucktard types. You just never knew what could happen when away from the obvious social and legal dictates of the asphalt and neon hellscape that we all take for granted. AND believe is normal human living conditions. Here to tell you folks. Not normal. LOL. But he did not figure on there being any trouble tonight. And with that in mind, he had decided in a microsecond that yes, indeed yes, he would consume more edible, drink an energy drink and do some serious contemplative type thinking on his whole existence. He would think on spiritual matters. He would think on material matters. He would think on a multitude of matters pertaining to, well, nothing at all that dealt with him on a practical, day to day basis. That was the fun of it. Getting that fucking high and just letting the carnival happen cerebrally speaking was sometimes a riot. Sometimes a net fucking gain serotonin wise.

And so it went for almost an hour. He was relaxed. High as hell. Drinking some primo go juice and staring at the moon through a beautiful wide view of the sky through the canopy above. A three quarter moon tonight. Did not know the difference between waxing or waning. Did not care really. But he did take very serious the presence of the goddesses of old when out in the moonlight. He preferred to live in alignment with their favor rather than against it. The moon was their beacon. Their signal to humankind that they were here among us and have much to say if one has the ear for listening. Hecate. The Morrigan. Lillith. Many many more. He understood what mortal men had done to minimize their influence in earthly matters when the patriarchy was set up long ago. And he wanted no part of it. The goddesses could be vengeful. They do not like being scorned. The moon shone and the goddesses lived. Case fucking closed on that one. He paid his respects. He tipped his energy drink up to the moon and paid tribute to the divine feminine in us all. Whether you were a truck driver. A bouncer. A mailman. Or prided yourself on being the biggest, baddest alpha in a room full of big, bad wannabe alphas, you possessed both divine masculine and divine feminine within you. Whether or not they were balanced? Well we all know how that is going in today's world. He chuckled. This is how it went when he was very very much in his brain on drugs. The stream of consciousness was eclectic and non motherfucking stop baby.

He was reclined on a barely visible but physically perceptible slope. Hands behind his head. Looking up, ever up, to the stars, the moon and the infinite possibilities of the universe. The goddesses had been thought of. Homage had been paid. Now his thoughts turned to... to... her. And her unbelievable beauty inside and out. Her smile. Her laugh. And her sweet....no...no...no, not tonight. "Can't do that man." he thought. He had to drive her from his mind somehow. They were not really in contact. She was beyond his ragged rim of light right now. She was fighting to maintain her own ragged rim of light. And he fought constantly the full blooded desire to run to her side and hold her against his body and tell her everything will be all right. He must not indulge this. So, quickly, he turned to, predictably for anyone that knew him, the global fucking elites? Specifically, how they controlled the narrative and kept the masses from rising the fuck up and slaying those fascist bastards once and for all. That was a natural progression for him. From unconditional love to revolution. Or the want of it from his perspective anyway. He was thinking on some of the early dudes who had espoused the need to subdue the masses and turn their thoughts and desires to what THEY, the deciders, wanted them to want and desire. It had to be against what their natural instincts would decide for them in the absence of a programmed narrative. The deciders must replace what a rational, sensitive, loving human being would desire, if left to their own devices, with something grotesque. Something lecherous. Conniving. Lustful. And not the good type of lust. No this would be the type of lust that leaves bodies in its wake. The type that believes that it is not enough to gain material advantage in this world and be happy. No, this is the type of lust that is only happy if that their material gain is accompanied by someone else's material loss. And the programming was so so effective. Welcome to 21st century capitalism. Welcome to the financialization of souls dear people. It made him sick to his stomach sometimes.

To the rich it was a game. And he, and basically everyone he had ever met, were pawns in their game. And they were, seemingly, forced to play. Not really. But the programing was so strong that it appeared that way. "More than a pity." he thought. "A fucking one way ticket to extinction probably." It was John D. Rockefeller himself who said, "There would be no game of chess if the pawns refused to play. We cannot let that happen." That was the mindset of the entities they were dealing with. "Fuck." he said aloud. He squirmed in his hi-tech, fast dry, cutting edge microfiber outdoor pants that were so so comfortable that it felt as though he could wear them to a black tie event and not be out of place. It was another of one of those crispy dipped, triple fried, reptilian demons, some high level CIA neanderthal, who said, "When a bird is born in a cage, it thinks that any form of flying is an illness. This is how we must keep it if we want to keep control." And the prophecy of Matthew Chapter 24 Verse 12 becomes more true by the hour, led by our so called superiors. That verse says "And because iniquity shall abound the love of many shall wax cold." A truer statement could not be found anywhere for the times he lived in. And that is why he did not find a spot at the inn in this world. He did not survive to consume. To gluttonize and festoon his soul with the trappings of transitory "success". He did not survive for love. To maybe feel love one day. No. He used love TO survive. He was a divine being. Not a vessel for the propagation of iniquity and corruption of his own soul. He was an exile because he was concerned with eternal life. Not eternal growth of a system that was inanimate. That was dead.

He was feeling proud of himself. Smug even. His moral superiority now firmly in place, he turned his attention to the need for sustenance. For this sleek machine he called a body. He rummaged through his food. He found something sort of appealing. And he settled back against the tree with a slight gasp and a twinge in his... fucking ass muscles? Yep. He felt secure in the knowledge now that he had pulled a muscle on his ass. The left cheek to be precise. That would ache in the morning. And he knew how he did it too. It was wasn't the hiking. The climbing. The bending. It was the fucking high leg kick of his pitching style that he had pulled out of his archives that afternoon when dispensing with the Walnut Grove Anklets. He just had to look like Nolan Ryan. Had to. The Nolan Ryan high leg kick was something he had developed early in his career. And now, now he was going to suffer a sore ass with a kind of long way to go to get back to civilization tomorrow because of it. Whatever. Dude is a legend. Emulate the legends. "Suffer the pain of an ass on fire. I like it like that and I know it." He laughed at his off the cuff take on an old REM lyric. He sat down to eat. A cold wrap. Dry pickles. And? Dunkaroos. Cant be taking drugs like this and not have some kind of ridiculous, nutrionally deficient, high fructose corn syrup, bloody monstrosity like Dunkaroos to get those dopamine levels up. Just can't do it.

It was when he was eating he had heard, in the distance, the telltale sounds of a group of coyotes on the move. The yipping. The almost human sounding laughter? The whining of the junior members of the group. They were moving. They were making a lot of noise. But they were well away off in the distance on his backtrail. Nothing to worry about he thought. And continued eating. It was not long though that an internal alert within him went off. And adrenaline came pouring forth from deep inside him. Barely a minute had elapsed from when he had dispensed mentally of the distant coyote train to when he had leapt to his feet, and stared into the blackness towards the direction he had come and the trail up above him on the slope. He was listening intently. And his body was girding for flight. Immediately. For the sounds were much much closer than they had been not one minute prior. And there was no mistaking the blood lust in the sounds these feral fucking dogs were making. But what were they lusting for? Were they already on something's trail? He did not like this situation. But coyotes? Would they really come after a human? "No way" he thought. "No fucking way." But it sounded like there were quite a few of them. And the proverbial tiger's breath landed firmly on his neck. And he was scared in an instant. The tiger's breath could not be mistaken for summer breeze. Up the slope, on the trail, a group of coyotes had stopped moving as one. They were now moving individually. This way and that. And they stopped yipping. He stood in the darkness paralyzed. Staring up the hill. Listening. His mind had emptied of everything but the now primal urge to escape. He wished he could see her one last time. But everything wonderful seemed far far away at that moment.

In the rising sun, two individuals–male and female, man and woman, boy and girl, sit.

My being is new to this urban district. My feet stand here secured.

I came here in search of silent solitary. And I have found it.

These two persons take a seat upon the stairs in front of a small house–one of many in a row. The owner–who, was an older man, came out.

In a heartbeat, he became puzzled. He scratched his young white bread and fixed his cane, then, he prepared his lips. “Can I help you?”

Those two individuals were motionless. The old man tapped them with his cane. Nothing. They remained still–like historical statues, representing or symbolizing people or ideas. However, this owner . . . knew nothing. Not even a clue or a single tiny hint.

Nor did I–or the neighbors . . . perhaps, no one in this black gaseous itchy sandy city did. All day people would walk up and ask, “you good?” or “lost?” but they never reacted.

Nor did they move. At night, when the beach’s aquatic pulse could be heard, when the urban world lit up the sky–indeed at night, when the world slept . . . they remained.

They sat. Did they eat? Did they talk? Did they sleep? I can’t say.

My solitary ends before sunset. But that man and woman sit down. And stayed.

The owner grew loathsome and complained. Then, he dialed that magical three digital number. Later, two tactical black and white cars rolled in. Four law enforcers came out.

Next, they talked to the sitters. My ears didn’t hear a word of what they’ve asked.

I could only guess. Purpose? Perhaps. ID? Likely.

Yet, there’s something that we all saw coming–their removal. It happened.

The owner and his neighbors and I watched the whole thing.

The city’s eyes were on them. In my place of peace, I left–hit and heartstruck.

My mouth mumbled and murmured. Mixed. Mangled. Mashed.

Yes, I felt awful and ached for those people.

They’ve done nothing. Sat still supporting something. They got nothing.

This tall technical towering town . . . felt something. Yet, we jail them.

How unfortunate. I came back the next day. Shocked. Stunned. Stationary.

The sitters . . . were there. Again. And the old man kept calling 9-1-1.

But them policemen kept tellin’ him those same stupid stories.

“Sorry, the prisons are full.” “Sorry, we’re swamped. –underwater really.”

“Sir. Sir! We’re sorry. That’s not our problem. Try city services.”

But even the city services wouldn’t move the sitters.

And so, the owner ignored them. Through the sun's rise . . . and fall. Day after day.

During every thunderstorm, tornado, hurricane, trouble, and threatening time, that aged individual thought those two would perish. For years he was wrong.

Until . . . It was he who fell ill. And perished. I bared witness–as did the city.

That owner had no one. He died with no heirs to his house. Henceforth,

His house went to the town. Still, those citizens sat there. Regardless.

Afterwards, the urban district became like the old man–harsh and short-tempered.

So much so, the city was ready to attack them, with all their authoritative powers.

Silently. Swiftly. Removed. But this . . . did not happen.

Citizens throughout that particular area took a stand. Or rather . . . a seat.

Some folks from afar in other regions joined in too–including myself.

We challenged this big booming beach beast of urbanization.

We cared about the woman and the man.

We craved victory–they did too. The sitters.

And eventually, we won–those of us who sat.

They deserved it. They owned it. Completely.

Now, city-dwellers all over this region–plus, many others, sit.

Just like those first two sitters did. Why? They won’t say. They’re motionless.

One day . . . something will be theirs. Before, they fall.

Everyday, they’ll sit. Until . . . they’re nothing . . . at all.

"I want you to complete it by five today. And please, don't leave without notifying me again, or I will have to do something about it," Nathan said to Rambo

Rambo looked at him without blinking as he cleared his throat. "Ahem"

"OK, sir," he said before turning back to his computer to finish his work

By five, he had completed his work and notified his boss. Rambo picked up his bag to leave; just then, his friend Jacob, who used to sit next to Rambo every day, stopped him

"Yo, Let's get something to eat, man; it's my last day here after all"

"No, I gotta go home. I am getting late, Jacob; we can meet next week if you want," he replied

"If you want? What the f*** are you talking about, man? Let's go"

"No, Jacob, I don't want to," Rambo replied and left the desk in a hurry

Later that same day. Rambo sat at the edge of his bed, staring at his wall, his eyes wide, as he kept staring at the wall without blinking

"Doesn't matter what I think; objective truths are going to be objective truths. Why will someone love me? Why will someone like me? What do I provide to them? nothing. Why was I born in this accursed world? All I can ever do in this world is to get rich and get love"

His phone rang; it was his father. He picked up the phone slowly and brought it to his ear. "Hello?" Rambo said

"H-hey, listen, I know you are-"

"I am what? different? Not worthy of your love?"

"No, that's not… well, you aren't wrong. Meet me in an hour…"

The kids with their mothers played in the park. A man sat in a wheelchair watching the kids play, as Rambo and his Father (Mehra) sat on a bench in a corner.

"What are you grateful for?" Mehra asked Rambo

Rambo turned towards Mehra to face him. "… I know how it goes. Come on…"

Mehra smiled genuinely. "I am diagnosed with cancer," Mehra said, facing Rambo, and saw Rambo's face turn all red

Rambo looked down at the grass before meeting his father's eyes. "Dad…" and hugged him tightly before pulling his face back and looking at his dad crying; he never saw his dad cry like that.

"Life is hard, Rambo,"

His father said before wiping his own tears.

Rambo looked at him before turning his face away, breathing deeply through his chest.

"What did the doctor say?" Rambo asked. "Incurable, very low chances- that's what he said," Mehra replied

"… I am grateful that you and Mom are still alive… I am grateful that I can walk. I can read books; I am grateful. I am grateful that I have eyes-"

Mehra watched Rambo talk and said, "You are interesting to talk to… I missed it; I wasted my whole life; you are a great son. I am deeply, very, very sorry"

Rambo said nothing as his Father continued, "I am grateful we had this conversation"

The next day,

"My life is only this, just because I wasn't born as a son of a CEO of a company"

Rambo, mixed in his thoughts, noticed Jacob pulling the chair. "Hey, man, I am late," he said and waited for Rambo to react. Rambo looked at Jacob. "So, what's the emergency?" he asked Jacob

Jacob laughed loudly. "I just wanted to meet you, man… after all, we worked in the same place for three years. Come on, we are friends," he said

"Jacob, co-workers are never your friend; that's what you told me," Rambo said to Jacob and continued, "… W-what is your biggest regret in life?" Rambo asked

"That I let go of my childhood friend Morgan," Jacob replied almost instantly

Rambo looked at Jacob as Jacob continued, "And I am trying to fix my mistake man…"

 

Rambo sat in his office chair, his eyes wide as he stared at the computer without blinking. He noticed his boss coming his way; he adjusted his chair slightly and looked at Nathan. "Rambo, in my office, now," Nathan said, and hurried his way to his office.

Rambo knocked on the door before entering; he sat in the chair close to Nathan as Nathan stopped typing on his laptop and faced Rambo

"How would you like a promotion, Rambo?" Nathan said, then added, before Rambo could reply, "I am promoting you to a senior position"

"That's awesome," Rambo smiled and said to Nathan

"You will have four people in your department working under you from now on. Start reading books on leadership, Rambo," Nathan said and smiled as Rambo stood up, thanked Nathan, and went outside.

Rambo's phone rang. He took out his phone to see a message from Jacob: "Tonight, BAR B.Q. plan? Some of my friends are coming too; it will be fun"

"Done," Rambo replied to Jacob

"After tonight, I should also hold a dinner for celebration; I'll call Mom and Dad, and… and… Sarah too…"

It is not strange for cats to go missing in our village. With almost no natural predators, everyone's cats are outdoor cats. They sometimes wander off or get run over, but when the fifth cat disappeared, people started asking more questions and keeping their cats inside. Even I started letting my precious orange cat Gingy out less. She didn't mind much; she already spent most of her time purring on my lap inside.

Some suspected wolves when a deep, unnatural animal growl began echoing through the village at night. People stopped letting their cats out at night, and barely let them out during the day.

I stopped letting out Gingy too. She loved running through our yard at night, chasing fireflies and meowing at other cats. I could see her bright green eyes staring at me each time the sun set, but I knew it was for the best. 

After a while, Gingy got used to staying home at night watching TV with me, but when the growls came, her whole behaviour changed. She'd perk up her ears, run to the door, and meow at it. It would always take at least 10 minutes of pets and a treat to calm her down.

Some time later, after the growls appeared, the first death came. Mr. Harlow was an older man who had a few chicken coops and a nice garden. He always waved when you passed and stopped to talk about your day.

One morning, his neighbour came to visit. Mr. Harlow's fence was broken down, the chicken coops were empty, and his body was full of scratches and bite marks. Not even a feather was left behind. 

People stopped going out alone even during the day. More and more cats disappeared. The growls came more frequently. Gingy now meowed at the door all night, and even treats couldn't quiet her.

Around this time, another attack came. While patrolling his yard, Mr. Harlow's neighbour saw a few of the missing cats on the roof, watching him with their glowing eyes. Then the growl came, closer than ever. All the cats stopped and turned their eyes to him. He stood frozen. Something jumped at him and scratched him. He tried to turn, but a few other animals jumped on him. He fired his gun into the ether. The animals were gone before he got off the ground, and the cats disappeared too.

One night Gingy sat on my lap, purring, when the growl came again. Gingy perked up her ears, shot her eyes to the door, and ran to it.

"Gingy, not again."

The meows. She scratched at the door with her paw.

"Gingy, please!"

She let out the most bloodcurdling meow and got up on her hind legs.

"Jesus."

I got up and went to the kitchen for a treat, even though it probably wouldn't work. I opened the package. She went silent. Then, through the silence, a door creaked. I looked back. Gingy hung from the door handle with her front paws as the door slowly opened.

"Gingy!"

She jumped down and slipped into the night. The treat dropped to the floor. I opened the door and rushed out after her. The outside air was cold. The growls were so loud outside. The streets were empty; only the lamps shone down. Gingy ran in the middle of the street toward the forest. 

"Gingy!" 

She got off the road and ran into the tall spruce trees. I took a deep breath and ran after her. The trees swallowed the light. I couldn't see Gingy, but I could still hear the growls nearby, and I was sure she was heading there. 

The deep growl echoed to my left. I crouched down by a tree and slowly looked there. All the village cats sat around a strange creature; its large silhouette towered over them, its huge glowing eyes stared at them, and it let out another deep growl. The cats turned and began walking toward the village in unison. 

My heart beat against my ribs. So many cats, and the thing was so huge, but my Gingy was among them. I swallowed and let out a silent pst pst, the one she'd always listened to. Gingy stopped and looked my way. I gripped the tree bark and pst pst again. She let out a silent meow and walked toward me. I was scared the other cats would turn, but they kept heading toward the village, their leader at the back.

"Gingy, come."

I reached for her soft, ginger fur. Her eyes looked into mine, but no recognition passed through them; they looked empty.

"Gingy?"

She let out a loud hiss and jumped at my hand. Sharp pain shot through it. She scratched and bit it aggressively.

"Gingy, stop!"

But she kept biting. I hated it, but I had to punch her to make her let go. Warm blood trickled down my hand. Gingy ran back to the cats, and they all stopped and looked my way. Panic ran through me, but the large thing let out another growl, and they turned back toward the village. I turned and bolted through the empty forest. The twigs hit my face. My feet slipped in the dewed grass. I kept expecting the big cat to jump on my back at any moment, but before I knew it, I was out in the village next to ours.

They bandaged my hand and called the police. When the policeman arrived, the whole village was quiet. The doors hung open. Everyone from my village lay in their houses in a pool of blood, with scratch and bite marks all over their bodies. The police found nothing but a few whiskers and soft, orange fur on the floor.

They let me go the next afternoon once the houses were clear. I was barely able to function. Out of habit, I reached for Gingy's bowl. Then I saw my bandaged hand.

I took on the local mental health clinic after I caught them committing fraud.

Billing for services not provided, up charging for specialized therapy that never happened (nor was the provider qualified to bill for) and falsified documents.

The sociopathic social worker took advantage of my toddler daughters and I. She was lying to my face about services available, saying we didn’t meet diagnostic criteria while she was billing for the services I was asking for - just no one was providing it.

To conceal her crime, she violated HIPAA and slandered me across town to every other disability service center in the county. People were rude as hell to me for no reason and it took me 18 months to figure out what she was doing.

Beyond words evil. Just fucking kicking me at my lowest and blocking any help from getting to me and my daughters so she could look good to her bosses at my personal expense.

I spent over 100 hours meticulously organizing my findings, over 150+ fraudulent billing instances totaling thousands and thousands of dollars.

Sent it all in to the state and Feds nearly a year ago now.

She was telling people I was lying about my daughter’s autism which is just flat out insane - she just wanted to block me from getting any help to conceal her crimes.

The damage was done though. And since the state told me these investigations can take 2-3 YEARS I feel like my only option is to move out of state but it’s been impossible since I have 2 autistic daughters and zero support I haven’t been able to work and am now stuck homeschooling after the school refused to acknowledge my daughters condition and basically bullied her all last year.

I have an official MD diagnosis but they for some reason think it’s fake????? I hate this entire town for being so fkn dumb.

I thought when I stepped up with piles of evidence and proof that people would realize and instead since the cops didn’t immediately arrest her and bust the clinic no one has yet to acknowledge that I was never the one lying.

I feel like I’m trapped in limbo.

I know I didn’t do anything wrong and was dragged through the mud by a selfish sociopath who abuses children so she could cover her crimes.

I expect a lot of people are going to be very ashamed of themselves when the arrests do come down, but this waiting period I am just languishing.

This isn’t even the first time I’ve been a whistleblower - it’s just the worst of this.

People truly cannot handle finding out someone they perceived as a “nice person” is a cold calculating evil sociopath while the “damaged person” is the one telling the truth.

Truth is the truth no matter how you feel about it.

I hate how long this is taking & I hate that I can’t do anything to make the resolution happen faster.

My kids are suffering because my entire community refuses to accept that people holding credentials aren’t inherently “better” than other people and “more honest” based solely on a job title.

That bitch should have been in federal prision a long time ago and I will not stop until she is, ever.

I think the only silver lining is if since they haven’t filed official charges yet, I re-submitted all my complaints and evidence again this time through the new “whistleblower reward” program the government started the first day it was online.

Honestly, this has robbed so much of my life to try to stand up for myself and my daughters, I really hope i do qualify for the reward money cause that may be the only good thing that it’s dragged out this fkn long.

I can’t make up for the what I’ve lost but it would go a long way to help us build a better future.

So fingers crossed that sometime in the next 2-3 years this wraps up and I can finally be vindicated from this god damn nightmare.

It should not be so hard to do the right thing.

People should not come out the woodwork to slander you for standing up to a sociopathic fraudster who has no issue harming special needs children to get her way. But they do.

I want that clinic shut down for good so no more children and moms are hurt by their evil fucking fraud practices.

That’s all that place does, steal Medicaid numbers, bill for services never provided, and slander their clients to cover it all up.

I dream of giving my victim impact statement at sentencing hearings, it’s something I’m praying I get the chance to do to make sure I get on the record the depth of harm that fucking lying sociopath caused.

For now, I just wait.

Previously:

Family loyalty was put to the test as the Jenkins protected their own, Kylie welcomed a familiar face, and the Slaters received some unexpected visitors.

Episode 15 Preview:

A family reunion brings old wounds to the surface, Michael's jealousy spirals and Mitchell takes a risky turn.

18/01/1999 | Monday

———

08:12AM. Number 27. Slater Residence.

———

Upstairs in her attic bedroom, Danielle is woken from the sounds of a very busy house. The kitchen, specifically.

Chatter, laughing, music, cooking and all sorts can be heard from the kitchen. Its all so loud that even in the attic, Danielle can hear it all in bed. Its warm. Familiar. Nice. Its family.

Danielle’s attic bedroom is long and slightly slightly spacious, with a sloping wooden ceiling, faded wallpaper and a worn, fluffy dark pink-ish red carpet in the middle of the room. The room had clearly been converted on the cheap years ago, but it's cosy enough, with a comfortable double bed pushed to the side of the room in the middle of the wall, a chest of drawers doubling as a dressing table, and a full length mirror propped up in the corner.

Clothes sit draped over the bed and hanging from hooks on the wall, with denim jackets, fitted tops, short skirts and jeans competing for space. Makeup, hairbrushes and cheap jewellery cluttered the dressing table, while fashion magazines, torn out pictures and rough sketches of dresses and outfits were pinned above it.

Her sketchbook lay open beside a scattering of pencils and fabric scraps, filled with designs for the clothing stall she dreamed of running at Marlas Street Market. It was untidy but unmistakably hers: a lived in, slightly chaotic little space belonging to a young woman with a head full of ideas and a wardrobe that was never quite big enough.

Seconds after her eyes drift open, she slowly gets out from under the thick duvet, and steps her bare feet onto the big soft rug underneath her bed.

She sighs, before getting up and walking groggily over to the floor door. She opens it and climbs down the narrow wooden ladder into the upstairs landing where Jenna is just walking out of the house's only bathroom, with a towel tightly wrapped around her wet, dripping body, and another wrapped around her hair.

She's getting ready for work

Jenna: "They wake you up too?" She smirks, referring to the ruckus downstairs

Danielle: "Mm" she mumbles, heading for the stairs

Jenna giggles before heading into her room and closing her door. Loud music starts blaring from behind her door.

Jenna's, Julie's and Katie and Kelly's bedrooms are all on this floor. Katie and Kelly share.

—

Downstairs

—

As Danielle reaches the bottom of the stairs and turns into the living room, there's a double blow up mattress laid on the floor in the middle of the living room, with a few blankets and pillows scattered all over it. A quick makeshift put together bed that actually looks comfy even though it was last minute.

And on one of the three seater green sofas, is a thick duvet and a few pillows. Another makeshift bed. Its a full house. Fuller than its ever been.

Danielle turns into the kitchen where Kelly, Arthur and Julie are sat at the round kitchen table eating breakfast and drinking tea, while Gavin is standing at the kettle on the counter next to the fridge, waiting for the water to boil for his coffee. At the cooker is Gillian, frying some eggs and bacon, and although its mid January, the kitchen door to the back garden is wide open, and we can see Georgina through the kitchen window, having a smoke in the morning air.

Its busy

As Danielle walks into the room, the people at the table immediately notice her

Julie: "Aw morning love!"

Arthur: "There she is, my little Dani. Come sit next to bamps" he smiles at her, chewing some toast and pulling out a chair from under the table for her to sit.

Arthur is a weathered, broad built Welshman with the sturdy frame of a man who had spent much of his life doing hard, physical work underground. Now in his mid sixties, his face is lined, his skin roughened by years of graft, and his thick salt and pepper hair sits comfortably on his head. He has bushy eyebrows, a broad nose and a permanent stubble that made him look a little gruffer than he actually was. With a dark grey moustache.

A former coal miner, Arthur is an old fashioned working class bloke who took pride in providing for his family, a fiercely loyal, protective, very kind and very sweet family man who loves his grandchildren. He enjoys a good laugh and is prone to a few pints of beer in the pub with the blokes in the evening. Nattering about their wives.

Danielle: "Morning all" she mutters, pouring some tea from the teapot on the table and taking a sip

Gillian: "Bacon, Dani love!? Eggs!?" Her nan shouts over from the cooker

Gillian Slater is a pretty, softly built Welshwoman with a friendly face, bright eyes and a head of thick, naturally curly blonde hair. She has a warm smile, fine features and the sort of expressive face that made it impossible for her to hide what she was thinking.

Always neatly dressed, Gillian has an eye for colour, patterns and fabrics, favouring well coordinated blouses, cardigans, skirts and sensible shoes, with the occasional pair of earrings to finish an outfit. Years spent working as a seamstress in a sewing factory had left her with a sharp eye for a badly fitted hem and an instinctive ability to spot quality clothing.

Warm, chatty and naturally funny, Gillian is a caring, comfortable presence who loved a natter over a cup of tea and took genuine pleasure in looking after her family. Polite without being stuffy and affectionate without being overbearing, she has a gentle way of making people feel welcome, although she was perfectly capable of delivering a cutting remark with a sweet smile when the occasion called for it.

Danielle: "No thanks nan. Got work soon, I'll grab something on my way in"

Arthur: "Ah you're a working woman too are ya? I remember when you were just a little one in nappies" he giggles

Arthur: "What is it you do?" He asks before taking a big gulp of tea

Julie: "She wants to be a fashion designer" she smiles

Arthur and Gillian both turn their heads in surprise to Danielle

Danielle: "No- no. She makes it sound like fashion week or something" she giggles

Danielle: "I work at a cheap clothes shop selling clothes but I want to design my own and run my own clothing stall on Marlas Market one day"

Gillian hears this from the cooker

Gillian: "Aw fair play to you love!" She says with a smile

Julie: "Yeah mam, my girls got dreams" she smiles proudly at Danielle

Arthur: "Well good on you, love. And your nan knows quite a bit about clothes, don't you Gill!?"

He shouts over to her with his mouth full of toast

Gillian: "What's that love!?" She shouts back from the cooker

Arthur: "Clothes! You know a lot about–" he starts coughing almost hysterically. But nobody takes notice

Gillian turns from the cooker with a pan full of bacon, and walks to the table

Gillian: "Oh yeah. Course I do. Used to work in a sewing factory back in the day didn't I Jule?"

Julie nods

Danielle: "So...you know alot about clothes then?" She asks her nan

Gillian: "Course I do. Can't design 'em to save my life like you can though. But I'm cracking when it comes to making them and what have you. The girls at the line were all devastated when I retired"

Danielle's face is washed over by a look of thought. She's deep in thought now.

Kelly: "Retired? You're only sixty..."

Gillian: "Sixty three Kelly, love. Year younger than bampy"

She giggles, heading back to the cooker with an empty pan.

Danielle: "Right— I'm gunna get dressed and head off. Haven't got long" she quickly stands up from the chair. A she does, Jenna walks in from the hallway, dressed for work. And takes her seat

Julie: "Have a good day love!" She shouts at Danielle who walks upstairs to get dressed

Julie: "You want to see her drawings, dad. They're amazing. Don't know where she gets it from"

Arthur: "Aw well good for her" he says, chewing toast

Arthur: "What is it you do again Gav?" He says, sipping tea

Everyone looks at him with a teasing smile

Gavin: "Oh I...I...—"

Jenna: "Nothing. He does nothing bamps" she smiles, before pouring hot water into her cup

Gavin: "No! No, i make music. I'm a DJ" He awkwardly smiles

Arthur: "Oh...right..." he nods

Arthur: "I used to be a—"

Julie: "A coal miner. Yeah dad, you told them all already" she giggles

Arthur: "Those mines were no joke, I tell you. Good thing about living in Wales though. Plenty of 'em. Means plenty of work"

Jenna: "Don't do it no more?" She asks, before taking a sip of her tea

Arthur: "No. Not since my heart attack a few years back. What do you do love? Got a proper job? Unlike mister music maker over here?" He giggles at Gavin

Jenna laughs

Jenna: "Yeah. Yeah, Im a bartender. Got the job recently actually"

Gillian: "Ooh bet that's busy work"

Jenna: "Ah its alright. Could be worse"

Arthur: "Bet thats the good thing with living down 'ere though i suppose. London, like. More busier. More things to do. More work"

Gillian: "Still dont know why you moved..." she mutters to Julie

Julie: "You know why we moved away mum. I...had a lot going on"

As she says that, Georgina walks in out from the garden.

Georgina Slater is an unmistakable presence: a big, glamorous, larger than life Welshwoman with a curvaceous figure, a broad smile and an enormous mass of thick, bushy brown curls that framed her face and seemed to have a personality of their own. She wears her makeup heavily and unapologetically, with dark eyeliner, layers of mascara, carefully painted lips and enough blusher to make sure she could be seen from the back of a theatre.

Georgina loves dressing up and has a particular fondness for anything bold, colourful or showy. Even when she's not performing, she looks as though she might be about to take the stage.

She made her living singing, dancing and performing celebrity impersonations, with Shirley Bassey and Tina Turner among her favourite acts. She has the voice, the confidence and the sheer theatrical nerve to throw herself into a performance, and she brought exactly the same energy into ordinary conversation. Loud, hilarious, shamelessly flirtatious and extremely fond of a drink, Georgina can turn a quiet family gathering into a full blown knees up without even trying.

She's a natural at making people laugh, adored being the centre of attention and rarely entered a room without making herself known. Beneath all the glitter, cheek and outrageous humour, is a deeply affectionate woman who loves her family and wears her heart on her sleeve. Georgina Slater is a party animal through and through. Exuberant, unapologetically herself and never one to do anything by halves.

Georgina: "Oh I remember alright. I was left picking up the pieces after—"

Julie: "Gina–" she holds her hand up and stops her

Theres a small silence

Kelly: "Well why did we move down here? Me and Katie were only babies. We dont remember, we grew up here"

An awkward silence sits in the one busy kitchen

Julie: "Just...had a lot going on. That's all. Needed a fresh start. So I moved here, and brought all my kids with me" she smiles

Georgina: "To a dump"

Julie: "Gina! It's not that bad..."

Arthur: "Speaking of Katie, when we gonna go see her? She's mostly the reason we came down 'ere"

Gillian: "Well her and Kelly love. After we got the phone call from Julie about the accident we knew we just had to be here. Even if we are taking up too much room" she chuckles

Julie: "I'm going in to see her today, now. She's being taken out of intensive care today. She'd love to see you all"

Gillian: "Aw good"

As she passes the kitchen doorway and runs down the stairs to head to work, Danielle shouts;

Danielle: "Bye everyone!". The front door slams and the kitchen jumps alive again.

Georgina: "Right, Jenna, show me where you work so I can get a drink in me!" She claps her hands once and rubs them together with a smile

Julie: "Already? Its not even nine"

She says, turning to face her sister

Georgina: "Well you know what they say sis, early bird catches the worm and all that" she smirks

A few giggles escape mouths

Gillian: "You'll never grow up, will you?" She jokingly asks at the kitchen sink

Georgina: "Why would I mam? They say you're as young as you feel dont they!? Now—"

She turns to Jenna

Georgina: "After I put my lippy on, you're taking me to work before we go see Katie at the Hospital. Okay?" She says in an almost excited tone

Jenna: "Yeah, yeah okay!" She laughs and nods her head

Georgina: "Attagirl! WOO!" She bounces into the living room

———

9:16AM. The Strip. Shawcross General Shop.

———

Its a quiet morning so far at the shop, and Yvonne sits behind the counter. Mind racing, scared to make a certain appointment.

She looks down at her Nokia on the counter, thinking.

Should I? Shan't I?

What do I do??

Eventually, she snaps out of it and grabs her phone, and the pamphlet on Abortion.

She turns to the staff only door to see no sign of Michael.

And when its safe. She dials the number for the clinic into her phone.

It rings theee times and then–

Yvonne: "Hi- hello? Hi. Is this Marlas Abortion Clinic? Yeah...hi. I'd– I'd like to make an appointment please" she says quietly like a child in trouble

Yvonne: "Yvonne Shawcross. Yeah. March 19th, nineteen sixty four. Yeah. Um...as soon as, please. Wednesday? Yeah that's...that works. Um yeah. Four o'clock is good. Okay. Thanks. Thank you. Yeah. Bye. Bye- bye"

Just as she puts her phone down onto the counter she exhales and shakes slightly.

The fuck did i just do?

And with that–

DINGALING

The bell above the door jingles and Mitchell comes stumbling in, absolutely wasted. With some lad around his age. Arms over each other shoulders. They sumble over to the alcohol section, laughing. Yvonne just watches. Then–

The staff only door behind the counter opens and Yvonne is startled. She turns around quickly.

Michael: "Woah, only me" he laughs

Michael: "You okay?" He asks quietly

Yvonne: "Yeah. Yeah im fine" she quietly says with an exhale

Michael smiles at her and then hears the ruckus coming from the alcohol section and looks up. He sees Mitchell. With another guy.

Yvonne: "Kids..." she mutters, referring to Mitchell and his friend

Michael: "Yeah. Kids" he fake giggles. Still staring at them.

Yvonne: "Hey, you mind if I go upstairs and have a lie down? Im...exhausted"

Michael: "Yeah. Yeah yeah of course you go on up. I've got the shop" he smiles

Yvonne: "Aw thank you love" she kisses his cheek and he leans in to it

She opens the staff only door and heads upstairs to rest.

Michael sits on the stool behind the counter, still watching. He looks down and sees something unfamiliar poking out of the lower shelf of the counter. He picks it up.

"CONSIDERING ABORTION?" catches his attention immediately. Written across a light purple pamphlet.

He stares at it, frowning in thought

———

9:31AM. The Victoria Arms Pub.

———

The pub has only been open an hour and a half and already its relatively busy.

Behind the bar, Jenna and Eddie both stand. Eddie is still giving Jenna tips.

At the bar, of course, is Jim. And at a table in the middle of the room is Julie and Georgina. Having a small drink each.

Georgina: "So, the crash. How did it happen?"

Julie: "Well, it was the Estate's 30th anniversary of being built. So every 5 years the Estate throws a party. You know what people are like around here or a piss up"

Gina nods

Julie: "Well, this place was packed, right? To the brim. And this new family that moved into number 33 came here too. And Katie and Kelly met one of their boys, Jamie his name is. They all hit it off and I guess he tried to show off, nicked a car and they all went joyriding. It was raining and they had all been drinking so..." she shrugs

Georgina: "Fucking Hell" she sighs

Georgina: "I can't believe you didn't tell us straight away"

Julie: "Hey! I was in shock okay? I could've lost both of my daughters and the last thing I wanted to do was to drag any of you into it. Dad especially. He's not in great health"

Georgina: "I suppose"

Julie: "And anyway, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell any of the kids about why we moved. About...you know"

Georgina: "About Dean?—"

Julie: "Yes. Do you even have to say his name?" She seethes, before taking a sip of her pint

Georgina: "You do know that Gavin, Jenna and probably Danielle all remember him and what happened, right?"

Julie: "Yes. I know that. And thats why I moved. To get away from...all of it. To give the kids a fresh start. To give Katie and Kelly a fighting hope that their dad wouldn't turn out to be like Gav's Jenna's and Danielle's"

Georgina: "What is it with you and men?" She jokingly asks as she takes a sip of her tear Maria

Julie: "Fuck knows" she mutters

Georgina: "Marlon wasn't that bad though..."

Julie: "Wasn't that bad!?" She laughs

Julie: "I went to his work to give him his packed lunch and found a woman almost half my age on her knees in front of him. The fuck you mean 'not that bad'?"

Georgina: "Well he didn't beat you did he? Not like—"

Julie: "Okay– I know what you're going to say and thats enough. Let's stop. I've got enough on my plate without you dragging up the past" she sips her pint

Georgina: "I'm sorry" she quietly says, rubbing her sister's arm

Julie: "It's okay" she smiles

A little silence sits there and Julie changes the subject

Julie: "Mm" she swallows her drink

Julie: "How's work? You met anyone?"

Georgina: "Oh its great. I love it. Love dancing and singing, me. You know that. And if I don't get paid cash I get paid in free drinks so its a win either way" she laughs

Georgina: "Even had a few people hire me to do impersonations for birthdays and wedding anniversaries and stuff like that. Its fucking awesome sis"

Julie: "Aw well good on you Gina. Really"

Georgina: "And as for blokes? I get them all the time but they come and go. Literally" she jokes

Julie: "Aw Gean! Dirty bitch" she laughs

———

11:14AM. Number 41. Maureen's Home.

———

Kylie comes in through the front door after attempting to smoke a fag in the front garden. She failed.

She closes the door and sits on the sofa, joining Maureen in watching TV.

Maureen: "You alright? You feeling any better?"

Kylie: "No. Not really. I couldn't even have a puff without it making me feel sick" she shows Maureen the full and newly stubbed out fag before dropping it into the ashtray on the table

Maureen looks

Kylie: "Don't think I ate anything funny do you?"

Maureen: "Don't know love. You can't have. We eat the same thing at the same time, most times. And I feel fine"

Maureen: "You been sick this morning? Apart from late last night?"

Kylie: "No. Don't know what came over me"

Maureen: "Hm. I dont know either love but if there's anything I can do"

Kylie: "I know. Thanks Maur"

Maureen nods

Maureen: "Oh, how was your meet up with you sister yesterday? How did it go?"

Kylie: "Yeah it went well actually. Shitting myself a bit before I saw her coz I didnt know what to expect, like. But no, it was nice. We had a nice catch up i told her the mess I was in, about Nathan"

Maureen: "Yeah"

Kylie: "And uh, Barry walks past and saw me so of course he came in and started talking to me didnt he?"

Maureen: "What did he want with you?"

Kylie: "I was seeing his son Gaz weren't I? But i left because..."

Maureen: "Yeah?"

Kylie: "I...just didn't feel safe there. Like I do here"

She keeps some of the truth hidden

Maureen smiles

Maureen: "You know you're always safe here, love. Okay?"

Kylie: "I know. Ta Maureen"

———

12:44PM. The Strip. Shawcross General Shop.

———

The bell above the main door jingles as it closes shut after a customer leaves, leaving Michael alone in the shop once more.

He pulls the pamphlet out again, staring at it again. More. Thinking. Wondering.

DINGALING

The door opens again and Mitchell comes in again, still hammered. If not, more than he was earlier. He's alone this time and walks straight to the counter.

Michael slides the pamphlet out of sight

Michael: "Where's your boyfriend?" He teases cruelly

Mitchell: "Well his name is–" he hiccups

Mitchell: "Alex. And we're– he's not my boyfriend. Just a bit of fun. Something you forgot how to have" he slurs, leaning forward against the counter

Mitchell: "And hes outside. Waiting for me. I'll have a large bottle of Smirnoff and a pack of condoms"

He says to Michael, directly looking into his eyes

Michael: "So childish..." he whispers as he turns to get the vodka and condoms

Mitchell: "You say something?"

Michael turns back around and hands him the vodka and condoms

Michael: "No"

Mitchell giggles

Mitchell: "Never did have much of a backbone did you?" He hiccups

Michael: "And you mean what, exactly?"

Mitchell: "You know exactly what i mean Michael. Never being honest. Never putting yourself first" he slurs

Mitchell: "Never admitting what it is you really want" he adds with a glare

Michael: "That's twelve ninety nine" he mumbles

Mitchell hands him a bunch of change. Leaving Michael to have to count out the cost himself

As he does, Mitchell speaks

Mitchell: "I may be childish. But at least im not a lying cheat who lies to himself" he says to Michael quietly

Michael looks up

Michael: "At least I don't drink my feelings away like a schoolkid with a crush that doesn't like him back"

He continues counting the cost

Mitchell: "Now now Michael. We both know that's not the case. Because we both know, deep down, that you like–"

Michael: "Here's your change" he cuts him off, holding spare change over the counter

Mitchell takes the coins and pockets them, along with the condoms

Michael: "And dont show up to work drunk, will you? Don't want to fall over on stage" he makes a snarky sarcastic remark to Mitchell, but it backfires

Mitchell: "Can't really fall off a pole. And anyway, i do private dances more than pole dances" he says back. Before swiping the big glass bottle off the counter and storming out of the shop, to meet his current affair outside.

Michael is left standing there, angry and hurt.

———

2:13PM. St Anne's Hospital. Outside Katie's Room

———

In the hallway outside Jamie's room, Julie is leading Arthur, Gillian, Georgina and Gavin to Katie's sick bay. On their way, they walk past Jamie's. Gavin and Julie instinctively look in without even realising.

Barry and Nicola notice and they all make eye contact.

After they walk past, Barry and Nicola both exit Jamie's room and shout to the Slaters

Nicola: "Seen your Katie being taken out of 'ere this morning'" she snarls

Barry: "Getting better is she?" He asks deadpan

Julie: "Yeah. She is" she replies

Arthur: "Who are they, love?" He quietly asks Julie in her ear

Before Julie can answer, Georgina senses the tension and speaks up

Georgina: "Have you got a problem? Do we know you?" She confronts them

Nicola and Barry walk closer to the family

Nicola: "Who are you? The calvary?" She snaps

Georgina steps out from behind Julie in an almost threatening way

Georgina: "I'm her sister. Gina"

Nicola: "And those two half dead corpses behind you are your folks i take it?" She shoots a remark

Gillian: "Oi you fucking cheeky—" Gillian goes to step forward but Arthur holds her back

Arthur: "Not worth it love" he whispers

Georgina: "Ah. I see. You're the Jenkins aren't you?"

Barry: "I see you've been running your mouths" he smirks to Gavin and Julie

Gavin: "Well we thought we should let them know what tramps we've got round 'ere"

Julie: "And who's responsible for the crash"

Nicola steps closer

Nicola: "You little—"

Georgina steps in front of Julie

Georgina: "Nu-uh. You're gunna have to go through me first, sunshine. And you don't want that"

Nicola: "Aha is that so?" She laughs

Georgina: "Not unless you want to end up in the coma beside your son, no"

A thick and heavy silence sits between the two families for a few seconds. Before a doctor's voice cuts in

Senior Dr: "Ms Slater!" He shouts from down the hall behind the Slaters

Everybody turns to the doctor and looks at him, who's standing there opposingly, trying to calm the tension between the families. He succeeds.

Senior Dr: "Katie's been moved downstairs, if you'd like to follow me?"

Julie: "Yeah. Yeah, of course"

Julie, Arthur, Gillian and Gavin all start heading towards the Senior Dr who's standing by the elevator. Georgina still stares at Nicola directly in her eyes, with a sharp glare. A dagger.

Julie: "Gina!" She shouts back as they walk away

Before Georgina turns away, she quickly glares at Barry too, before joining her family

———

3:49PM. Marlas Estate Park/Playground

———

Its a dull and damp misty afternoon on Marlas Estate. The sky is grey and drizzling.

Somewhere in Marlas Estate, sits a neglected child's playground thats basically a concrete patch on a bare street corner with rusted playground equipment that'll probably give you tetanus.

Its bare, sprawling. And in the park sits a few wooden benches that have seen better days, a picnic bench with initials etched into them, a yellow rusted seesaw, a wooden set of swings, and a light blue plastic and metal climbing frame with a slide and platform with a few ladders and stairs.

And underneath the slide is a little seating section with a blue plastic bench.

There, sits Mitchell and his recent fling, Alex Thorne. Opposite each other. They're both cold but huddled. Looking rather sketchy all things considered.

Alex Thorne, 20, is a skinny, lanky young man with a scruffy, unhealthy appearance that makes him look older than his years. He sofa surfs. His dark brown hair is a mess, while his pale, drawn face, hollow looking eyes and tired expression give him the look of someone who's spent too many nights awake and too many mornings regretting it.

He dresses in dark, cheap clothes that hang loosely off his frame, usually creased and well past their best, with battered trainers and the general appearance of someone who hasn't cared about his appearance in a long time. There's something restless and shifty about him, his eyes constantly darting about

Alex has the desperate, unpredictable air of a young man whose need for his next fix has begun to outweigh almost everything else in his life.

Mitchell takes a big swig from the bottle of Vodka thats almost empty. He winces as passes it to Alex. Who's almost as trashed as Mitchell.

Alex: "You always hang out in parks drinking yourself stupid?" He grins, before finishing the bottle

Mitchell: "Only when I get shat on" he higgups

After Alex finishes the bottle, he drops it onto the floor and it smashes

Alex: "Well–" he hiccups

Alex: "That didn't touch the sides. How about something more...effective?" He smirks at Mitchell

Mitchell: "...like what?" He slurs

Alex reaches into his black jacket pocket and pulls out a small clear plastic baggie. Half filled with a white powdered substance. Cocaine.

He dangles it in front of Mitchell with a big smile

Alex: "Ever tried this?"

Mitchell nods no

Alex: "Beats weed my friend. You got anything to cut it with?"

Mitchell digs in his pockets and pulls out some coins, and shows them to Alex

Alex: "Mm. Anything else?"

He pulls out his keys to his flat

Mitchell: "This any good?"

Alex: "Ah. Perfect!"

He snatches the key from Mitchell's hand, opens up the baggie and pours some of the coke onto the table. Mitchell watches carefully.

Alex carefully splits the substance again and again until there's a two lines.

Alex puts the key down on the table in front of Mitchell, closes one nostril, and snorts one line with the other.

Mitchell watches and Alex wiped his nose and sniffles afterwards

Alex: "Well? It won't hurt you" he giggles

Mitchell knows what cocaine does. He knows about it. And he knows about drugs. And he's seen people do it before too. Right in front of him. But doing it yourself...that's different.

Anything to block the pain I guess. To block Michael...

Mitchell slowly leans forward, and copies what Alex done. Blocks one nostril, and uses the other to snort.

He winces as he leans back up from the table

Alex laughs

Alex: "First time?"

Mitchell nods and laughs

Mitchell: "Yeah"

Alex: "You'll get the hang of it. Don't get addicted though mind you. Shit's expensive"

Mitchell sniffles

Mitchell: "Right. Let's go to the pub"

He says getting up

Alex: "I'm skint mate. Fuck all to my name"

Mitchell: "That's alright, I'll pay for your drinks. Im earning loads of dosh from my new job"

Mitchell hiccups and Alex smiles

They both stumble and make their way over to the Victoria Arms to get even more hammered.

———

4:14PM: St Anne's Hospital. Katie's Sick Bay

———

In a shared triage room where sick bays line each side of the room, Katie lays in her sick bay with the blue curtain pulled open. And her family around her.

She lays sat up in bed

Her grandparents and aunt are catching up with her.

Katie: "Aw you didnt have to"

Gillian: "Don't be silly of course we did! I remember hearing your mum on the other end of the line telling me what happened and when she did i hit the roof didnt I Arth?"

She nudges her husband

Arthur: "I'll say" he jokingly rolls his eyes at Katie

Georgina: "So...any idea when you'll be out? Nice to see that someone in this family grew up to be a party animal. Apart from me that is" she smirks

Katie: "The doctors said a week or two if things go well. But its still early days"

Julie: "And anyway, dont think you're taking her out clubbing after what happened. No fucking way"

Georgina: "I know I know. Wasn't planning on it" she jokingly defends herself and then secretly winks at Katie

Katie smirks

Katie: "So, how long you lot staying down here?"

Gillian: "As long as it takes for you and your sister to get better. Then we'll be out of your hair" she rubs Katie's arm

Julie: "Didn't really expect to have eight people under one roof" she chuckles

Katie: "Fuck! Eight!?"

Julie: "Yup. Its me in my room upstairs, Kelly in yours and her room, Jenna in hers, Gavin in his room in the garage, Dani in her attic room, Gina on the sofa, and Nanny and Bampy on an airbed in the living room"

Katie: "My God..."

———

4:53PM. The Strip. Shawcross General Shop.

———

Behind the counter, Michael's mind is absolutely racing, as well as his heart. Since he found the pamphlet earlier, he hasn't been able to stop looking and thinking about it.

Or about Mitchell...

The shop is quiet, but the peace isn't doing his mind any favours

Suddenly–

The staff only door behind the counter opens and Yvonne slowly walks out, feeling sleepy from her long rest. She yawns as she walks out from behind the counter, past Michael and over to the fridges of cool drinks

Yvonne: "God...don't know if that rest helped, you know. Feel more tired than before" she quietly giggles as she takes a bottle of Lucozade from the fridge and walking over to the counter.

Michael says nothing

Yvonne: "Can't get enough of these recently..." she waves the bottle in his face before opening it and taking a sip

Again, Michael says nothing, just looks down at his hands under the desk

Yvonne: "What's up? You okay?"

Michael looks up at her into her eyes. For while

Yvonne: "What...? What is it?"

Nothing

Yvonne: "Michael what is it? You're scaring me..."

He pulls up the pamphlet from under the counter and Yvonne's stomach plummets

Michael: "Got something you want to tell me?"

Yvonne's heart pounds at her chest and she can feel herself shaking but she battles with her body language and acts cool

Yvonne: "Mmm no...not really..." she acts confused

Michael: "So...this isn't yours?" He asks rhetorically, sharply

Yvonne nods no as she takes another sip of her drink

Yvonne: "No. I was serving a teenager this morning, she dropped that on her way out and by the time I got to it to give it back to her, she'd gone. I weren't chasing after some kid who can't keep her legs closed" she jokes, playing it off. Almost smoothly

Michael looks back at the pamphlet, then at Yvonne, and at the pamphlet again

Michael: "...I dont believe you" he says quietly

Yvonne: "What? Why not?" She laughs

Michael: "Why would I? You haven't been yourself lately and—"

Yvonne: "Oh Michael I'm ill! Okay!? Not pregnant. Im...I'm ill. People get sick and pregnant teenagers read about abortions. Sometimes things aren't what they seem"

Michael: "I...I just..."

Yvonne: "Just what?"

Michael: "I...I dont know. Something's not right..."

Yvonne: "For fuck's sake" she whispers in frustration

Yvonne: "Michael im not pregnant. How many more times have I got to tell you?"

Michael: "But the night of the crash, when I came back here, you—"

Yvonne: "Felt guilty? Because thats all it was! I made an effort for you because I felt bad about how I treated you earlier that night!" She shouts at him

Michael goes to speak but she carries on

Yvonne: "Why the Hell would I want a kid with you!?" She giggles

Michael stutters and chuckles in disbelief

Yvonne: "You know what i mean. I'm sorry...that came out too harsh" she tries to take some of it back

Michael: "No. I dont know what you mean Von"

A heavy silence sits there

Michael: "Fine, you know what? If you're so 'well', than you can manage the shop all on your own for the rest of the day can't you?"

He walks from behind the counter and towards the coat rack by the door

Yvonne: "Where are you going, now!?"

Michael: "To clear my head!" He says, throwing his coat on and storming out the shop

Yvonne sighs and looks at the pamphlet on the counter. She yanks it and rips it up in frustration

———

7:17PM. The Victoria Arms Pub.

———

For a Monday, the pub is relatively full and quite alive. Of course the usual piss heads are here...Jim definitely.

Behind the bar, Eddie and Jenna are serving away, both actually having quite a nice time. Chatting and laughing between serving customers. At the bar, Jim is about 8 pints deep. Maybe more? Who knows

On the opposite bar, in the lounge section of the pub, is Mitchell and Alex, both sitting in a corner booth, laughing and slurring God knows what. Looking rather close.

And on the other end of the same bar as Jim, is Michael, a few pints deep also. He can't help but overhear Mitchell and his 'boyfriend' as Michael called him.

Jim: "You alright there Michael, lad?" He asks from the other end of the bar

Michael can't hear him clearly so he moves closer. Sits on the stool next to Jim

Michael: "You what Jim?"

Jim: "You alright? Looking quite down over there" he hiccups

Michael: "Stressful day thats all!" He smiles and shouts above the noise of the busy pub

Jim: "I hear that" he jokes

Michael smiles and nods, but can't help but look over at Mitchell every few minutes. He knows its wrong. But can't help it...

Over at one of the wooden round tables in the middle of the room, sits Julie, Georgina, Gillian and Arthur, chatting about Katie and Kelly's recoveries, and Jenna working behind the bar

Over at a booth near the window, is Kylie and Maureen. A few drinks in. Kylie is almost ready to go, Maureen? Not so much

Maureen takes a sip of her pint

Maureen: "I'm glad you decided to come out after all. You feeling any better?"

Kylie: "Mm...a bit i guess. Don't really know. I think so. These drinks aren't going down a treat though i got to be honest"

Maureen: "Aw why's that love?"

Kylie: "Don't know. They're just making me feel a bit sicky" she smiles

—

From their table, Julie waves at Maureen and Kylie to come over. Georgina, Gillian and Arthur all smile at them too.

Maureen notices

Maureen: "Oh, look. Julie's calling us over" she goes to get up but Kylie stops her

Kylie: "Woah– im not..."

Maureen senses Kylie's hesitation

Maureen: "Kylie, love. That woman over there" she points at Julie

Maureen: "Is one of the nicest and most honest women you'll ever meet. Okay? You'll be fine. Come on, meet some new faces"

She stands up with her drink, and Kylie does the same, reluctantly. They both walk over

Maureen: "Hiya Jule! Hi all!" She says to the table

Julie: "Maureen! This 'ere are my mam, dad and younger sister Georgina"

Georgina: "It's Gina" she says to Maureen with a big smile, holding out a hand

Maureen takes it

They all get acquainted and Maureen and Kylie both sit at the table with the Slaters

Georgina: "So, you look like my kind of gal. You like to drink?" She asks Kylie

Kylie: "I do yeah. But...been a bit occupied lately"

Georgina: "Too occupied to have fun?"

Kylie nods

Georgina: "Well tonight that's gonna change" she smiles, raising her glass to Kylie's

Kylie smiles and does the same

Maureen notices and a smile crawls on her face

—

Behind the bar, Jenna just finishes serving Jim a pint and turns to Eddie

Jenna: "Where's Paula then? She not about? Could do with an extra set of hands" she asks

A look falls onto Eddie's face and he doesn't know what to say

Jenna notices and goes to say that he doesn't have to tell her anything, but he speaks up anyway

Eddie: "Yeah– um...she's..she's just staying with her sister up north for a bit. She...needed some space" he smiles

Jenna smiles back and briefly places her hand on his forearm and smiles at him, friendly. Before removing it and getting back to work. Eddie watches work away. With a small smile.

—

Back at the busy table, Georgina is trying to get Kylie to go out with her on the town. Tonight. Kylie is clearly reluctant but Julie and Maureen are both telling Georgina no.

Georgina: "Oh come onnn. I can tell you're a right laugh! I can just tell! I've met all kinds of women in clubs and shit and your kind are my kind!" She says to Kylie with a laugh

Julie: "What's that then? Overbearing?"

Gillian and Arthur laugh

Georgina: "Alive baby! Alive and ready to partayyyy!" She laughs

Maureen: "Gina love, I dont think—"

Georgina holds her hand up

Georgina: "Nu-uh. This one needs some proper time out with a real party girl. Instead of being tied to group of old biddies like you lot" she jokes

Kylie laughs

Georgina: "Come on" she says quietly

Kylie: "I have no money" she says quietly

Georgina: "That's okay, I do. I'll pay for you"

Julie: "Gina—"

Georgina holds her hand up in Julie's face

Georgina: "So?" She smiles at Kylie

Kylie looks at Maureen and Maureen looks back with a look that says "Well...its up to you"

Kylie looks back to Georgina

Kylie: "What the heck why not!?" She laughs

Georgina: "Aah!! Attagirl!" She hugs her side

Maureen and Julie look at each other

—

Over at the bar, Michael tries to eavesdrop and looks in on Mitchell and Alex's conversation. They look...comfortable

A few short minutes pass and they both get up laughing, and start making their way out the door

And within a flash, Michael decides to finish the rest of his pint.

But he does. He downs what's left snd follows Mitchell and his scruffy hookup out the door snd into the dark night.

———

7:28PM. Outside The Victoria Arms Pub.

———

As Michael runs out into the damp snd drizzly night, down the street to the right, he sees two silhouettes running and laughing towards a bus stop.

He decides to run after them, not knowing why...except for Mitchell

As Mitchell and Alex reach the bus stop and Michael is a few steps behind, a bus pulls up, illuminating onto the street.

It hisses to a stop and they both run on, quickly pay, and run to the back. Michael stands on the pavement, and watches the bus take off and pass him.

As it does, he sees Mitchell and Alex right at the back, hands all over each other. Consumed in each other's bodies.

He's left standing there in the dark and drizzled night, head and heart both all over the place and torn to bits

———

That's episode 15! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! As always please let me know what you think! Episode 16 will be out soon! ☺️

Boring

I was molested at 6, then again twice when I was 18. At 18, I also got pregnant with my boyfriend and had to go through an abortion. The same relationship lasted two years, during which he cheated on me while I was dealing with health problems. When the truth came out, he made up an entire story and told our university that I was the one who cheated. I almost quit university at 20 because of everything. Eventually, I went to therapy, and life started getting better.

Then I lost my pet. Four months later, I watched my grandmother lie in a hospital for 22 days, unconscious, struggling to breathe, fighting for her life while all I could do was stand there and hope she would somehow make it through. I watched her suffer. I watched the uncertainty, the machines, the endless waiting, and the helplessness of wanting to save someone you love more than anything but not being able to do a damn thing.

And here I am, just 22 years old, carrying all of this.

I’m numb, but I’m okay, I guess. I tend to run away from my feelings by distracting myself, and eventually, I accept things without letting them hurt me as much. I don’t know if that’s healing or just my way of coping.

But sometimes, when I look back at everything I’ve survived, I genuinely think I’m the strongest person I know.

I’m not saying I’m unbreakable. I’m just amazed that after everything life has thrown at me, I’m still here, trying to live.

Maybe I don’t need to be strong all the time. Maybe I deserve some peace, too.

I’m not saying I’m strong because none of this affects me. It does. I’m not saying I’ve healed from everything because I haven’t. There are things I still haven’t completely processed, things that might hurt me years from now, and things I don’t even have the words to explain.

I’m only 22. I should be worrying about my career, making memories, figuring out who I am, and enjoying my twenties. Instead, I’ve already experienced things that have fundamentally changed the way I see people, love, loss, and life itself.