My Father taught me how to look at the night sky. He didn’t tell me it was looking back. (Part 4) “Fathers, you are your daughter’s hero. My father was my hero. I used to wait on the steps of our home for him to arrive each night. He would pick me up and twirl me around and let me put my feet on top of his big shoes, and then he would dance me into the house. I loved the challenge of trying to follow his every footstep. Thank you to everyone who has read the series “My Father taught me how to look at the night sky. He didn’t tell me it was looking back.” Tim, Will, and Cara are in a bit of a predicament at the moment, but they’ll be back soon. I’m going to be providing an update very soon, and I’ll be sure to let you know when to look for it. “My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it” ― Clarence B. Kelland tags: do, father, him, it, live, watch. Read more quotes from Clarence Budington Kelland. Share this quote: Like Quote. Recommend to friends. Friends Who Liked This Quote. To ... My Father taught me how to look at the night sky. He didn’t tell me it was looking back. (Part 2) Series. Close. 19. Posted by 3 days ago. My Father taught me how to look at the night sky. He didn’t tell me it was looking back. (Part 2) Series. Part 1. None of us said a word. We could hear the awful sound of Cara’s remains being taken ... On my way back to my dorm, I ran into two friends, who didn’t notice my wet eyes and troubled gaze. They’re both from Boston and speak incredibly fast. As they dove into a story about their night out the previous night, my defenses went into overdrive, trying to track their rapid-fire sentences as they both spoke over each other.
2020.08.13 20:36 NateLundberg Son spying on his mom
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
I shouldn’t have been surprised at where the convoy was heading. Every turn took us closer to Trinidad.
KC alternated talking on the radio to the rest of the convoy and sitting in silence. He only spoke to us again when we were nearing our destination.
“They’re going to expect two people up front and three in the body bags in back.”
“Aren’t they going to know I’m not your partner?”
“Come on, Tim, you have to admit you look exactly like Sir B. Oh, that reminds me. I’m going to need you to open his body bag, remove his clothes, and put on his uniform.”
I looked back at him, horrified. KC stared at me for a few seconds, deadly serious, and then broke into a smile.
“I’m just messing with you, Tim! Come on, I don’t have much time left. Laugh with me!”
We all chuckled nervously. KC continued.
“We have specific procedures we have to follow when we’ve been exposed to the Watchers. We’ll stop 100 yards short of the gate and pull the shielding panels up. The gate guards will start DECON procedures automatically.
“Once we’re ready, we’ll just roll through. The guards will be behind lead doors.”
Will looked behind him at the body bags. “Are there supposed to be three of us back there?”
“In theory, I suppose. But there’s no need to try to hide or disguise yourselves. With the shielding panels up, nothing can see in here.”
“But you said...”
“Forget it. It was a poor attempt at humor. I’m going out on a bad joke, and that’s the final chapter.”
KC followed the other vehicles as they turned off the road and passed under a heavy black gate that closed automatically behind us. We went up and over a small ridge into a valley that I had never seen before. Odd, considering it was only 20 miles or so from Trinidad.
“This is it. See those red handles? Those are the shielding panels. Just pull up on them when I stop.”
Even with KC’s reassurances, I felt ill, like someone was dragging me into something that I knew was terribly wrong and I had no way out.
Despite my feelings, our approach to the gate went smoothly. We stopped, pulled up the panels, and KC guided us through using the displays to navigate.
I caught the name of the base briefly on the display. Apparently we were at Echo Voltaria Headquarters. I remembered the name because of how different it sounded.
“See? Nothing to worry about.”
Besides the extra security, you wouldn’t be able to tell we were on a military base. It looked like a mining operation, and there were plenty of indications that it was one.
We drove around for a short while until we reached a building that was further away than the others. KC came to a stop.
“Ok, this is it. My truck is the red one over in that parking lot.” He handed me the keys. “I guess this is the last time I’ll say anything to anyone. I’d have you contact my family for me if you weren’t exposed, but here we are.”
“Thanks, KC.” It was all I could think to say.
Kristen inquired, “When should we expect to start feeling the effects?”
“Maybe tomorrow, maybe a few days from now. Either way, it’s a long, slow decline. Speaking of...”
Sir B’s gun ended up in my hand.
“You’ll know when it’s right for you. Before it gets to be unbearable, take this notebook and run the decryption codes. I think you may already have everything you need, Tim.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your dad told me he was gifting you a radio telescope. Did you set it up according to his instructions?”
“You still have the raw data?”
“All the way back to the first day I set it up.”
“Then you’re going to want to look at the first couple of pages on that notebook to help you locate the data on your server. We have a unique message format, but I’ve always thought it was a bad idea. It makes things stand out. Maybe whoever set it up was like me. Maybe they wanted others to know.”
Will asked, “What’s so bad about the Watchers?”
“In all honesty, we don’t know. That’s why we need more eyes on them. They keep adapting. They’re after something here. In secrecy, even if we do find out, it may be too late to do anything about it.”
None of us wanted to move.
“This is the part where you leave.”
KC motioned for us to open the doors.
“It’s safe. Nobody’s watching. Go. Drive immediately off base. Oh and here, take my wallet. That way you’ll have some cash, and you can prove you met me.”
All of us said thanks as we got out.
“Don’t go near anyone you care about for the next 48 hours. And as soon as you can, ditch the truck. It’s been a pleasure. Godspeed.”
With that, KC drove off. Knowing that he was going to end his life should have affected us more at this point, but we were growing numb. Too many bad things happened recently. Cara was gone. Our own lives were forfeit. The Watchers remained.
Only a small doubt lived in my mind as we got in the truck, three abreast in the only row. I was deliberate in my actions, which may or may not have helped. KC didn’t lie, though. We made it off base with no problems, and the heavy black gate opened automatically to let us back onto the highway.
Most of the conversation for the rest of the day focused on where we should stop for the night. We danced around the more serious issues. I don’t think any of us were quite ready to confront everything head on. We settled for Taos, which was about a three hour drive away.
That night Will and I attempted to sleep in the bed of the truck under the stars. It was cold. By the time morning rolled around, we were all in our original positions in the cab, with Kristen in the middle leaning against me and Will leaning against the passenger door.
A knock on the window startled us awake as the sun was starting to rise. A local man in flannel pants and a jean jacket had found us.
“Private road! Let’s go.”
I waved at him as Will and Kristen sat upright and attempted to shrug off the hold that the night still held on us. Would that local man die too? Less than 48 hours had passed since our exposure and he was right next to us. I didn’t want to know.
We spent the day at a string of drive-thru coffee shops and restaurants, winding through residential streets in Albuquerque, and at night we finally headed back towards Socorro. There was a consensus among our group. We would try to look at the logs first before going our separate ways.
When we got back to Socorro we decided to spend one more night in the truck and head over to my house in the morning. That night, even with Kristen leaning against me, all I could think about was my mother. She had lost her husband, her parents, and she was going to lose her son. Maybe it would have been merciful to expose her.
The next morning, we went to my house. My mom greeted us at the door.
“Tim! You’re home early. And Will and Kristen are here too! Oh, you all need showers. How was the camping trip? Where’s Cara?”
“That’s why we’re back. Something happened to her.”
It took hours to explain to my mom what happened. This was also the first chance that any of us had to use a phone after ours had been destroyed, so we called Cara’s family as well. We didn’t tell anyone about the Watchers.
As afternoon settled in and we had all taken turns in the bathroom getting cleaned up, we found ourselves in my room. Will, the computer science major, was selected to make an attempt at decrypting the logs.
“So your dad just set you up with this, knowing that you’d be collecting spy satellite data?”
“Well, the way it was explained to me, my radio telescope was set up to look for distant pulsars and quasars, but it’s still just a hobbyist setup. Most of what I pick up is electromagnetic interference, which could just be data from whatever is floating around out there, but there is one exception. Basically, anything in geosynchronous orbit that transmits in the Ka-band gets logged.”
Will and Kristen both sat wide-eyed, not saying anything.
“Yeah, apparently my dad set this up to collect spy satellite data.”
Will responded. “Ok. Now we’re getting somewhere. Let me see the notebook.”
After a minute of looking at its contents, it was Will’s turn to confuse all of us.
“Ok, I’m just going to run a script to parse each message header. Just give me a minute to look up the conversion type for each byte.”
Kristen and I just let Will do his thing for a minute. I was somewhat familiar with the command line, but Will was an expert. After about an hour of furious typing, the script was running.
“That’s all we can do for now.”
“Nice work, Will! How long is it going to take?”
“Are you aware of how much data you have?”
“Yeah, like 150 terabytes or something.”
“Do you know what kind of data that is?”
“Exactly. So it has to be converted, parsed, and then matched to known good values that I got from the notebook. If it’s a match, it will decrypt the message. Right now I only have a key that’s good for a year. That’s still about 15 terabytes worth of data that it has to go through. 15 terabytes of binary text. That’s a lot of text.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“Let’s go ditch the truck. Maybe by the time we get back, we’ll have one message ready to read. I’ve set the script up to forward to all our e-mails whenever it finds something.”
Kristen jumped in. “Yeah, but it’s not like we have our phones.”
I replied, “Looks like we know what we’re doing on the way back.”
My mom let us borrow her car. We didn’t tell her what we planned on doing. I think it was for the best that we didn’t have our phones with us at the time. After a quick stop at the gas station, we took an hour’s drive to an undisclosed location off Highway 380. That became the truck’s final resting place as we set it on fire.
We all felt a weird kind of freedom. Knowing that you don’t have much time left to live, we didn’t care about much of anything anymore.
All that changed pretty quickly. As soon as I had my new phone set up, which wasn’t too much longer after committing arson, I saw the first decrypted message in my e-mail. This is what it said:
Commander Ben Simon: “I’ve queued the message for transmission. All we can do now is wait and hold on as long as we can.”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “We’ve waited too long already.”
Commander Ben Simon: “Can we not have this argument again? We didn’t understand how angry it was.”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “That’s conjecture, pure and simple. No one has been outside the craft to check on it. And honestly, it’s embarrassing that you would assign emotion to it when we don’t even fully understand it.”
Commander Ben Simon: “First of all, if you really listened to your heart, you would be able to feel it too. And secondly, no one else is permitted for EVA by ORDER OF THE COMMANDER. We can’t lose anyone to that thing.”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “That thing is the only reason our mission exists in the first place, and there’s one way to ensure success, but you’re too afraid to take action.”
Commander Ben Simon: “I have a responsibility, not just to the people onboard this craft, but to everyone back on Earth.”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “Your responsibility starts first and foremost with the inhabitants of this craft, who are the only ones with the power to do anything!”
Commander Ben Simon: “You’re not looking at the bigger picture. Until we know that the children are safe, until we know that they won’t die out here as floating skeletons, we can’t do anything without clearance!”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “You know that’s not all we can do. We can wake them up. We can start the incubation instead of wasting away to nothing while our children die!”
Commander Ben Simon: “You know how the experiments back on Earth went! We can’t risk it, not without more information!”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “It’s too late. I’ve already started the process.”
Commander Ben Simon: “You what?!?”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “I knew you would be opposed to it, but we have no other options. We haven’t even heard from Echo Voltaria in 8 months! We had to try something, and your inaction will kill us all.”
Commander Ben Simon: “You disobeyed a direct order. I ought to push you out the airlock.”
First Officer Lisa Simon: “In three months you won’t have to.”
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2020.08.12 07:09 obamanewguinea Son spying on his mom
I ain’t trying to sound like a bigot, Like, SERIOUSLY?!?! I was interested in the umbrella academy. If you don’t know it’s a series on Netflix based off of Gerard way’s comic book. I’d say the 1st season was amazing! A wonderful introduction before Season 2. Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of things I loved about season 2. The plot line of Vanya left a bitter taste in my mouth. SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU DONT WANT TO HEAR IT STOP READING. Basically Vanya comes out of the portal and almost gets ran over. Causing her to lose her memory. She lives with a family in Dallas. A wife named sissy, a dad named Carl or Karl idk and a son named Harlan who is Autistic. What pisses me off is the fact that in movies and Tv Autism is treated one of two ways. ONE. It’s treated like a fucking super power, a good example would be in the most recent predator movie. A boy has autism and is able to decrypt a piece of alien technology alerting the other predators. Or where it is the most extreme of cases where they are 7-10 years old. Completely non-verbal and are physical, Harlan bit his mom when she was trying to calm him down. It pisses me off so fucking much, they act like they’re so understanding but they play it off like idiots. The father, Carl because of the separate storyline between Sissy and Vanya where they become lesbian and make love. So Carl becomes upset because it was his wife. And says Harlan needs a father. They almost leave with Harlan and gets arrested for taking the kid and leaving just like that. So Vanya gets taken to the fbi because they think she’s a spy. Eventually Vanya almost goes Nuclear and because she saved Harlan’s life earlier is connected to him. Vanya’s eyes start glowing and so do Harlan’s, Carl having no idea what is happening to his son and takes him to his car to take him to a help center. Sissy then says that “you can’t have my son!” Carl says he’s worked, been faithful and a good husband. Which he has. So then Harlan steps out of the car. And Carl tries to disarm Sissy since she’s flaying a loaded carbine around. And she accidentally fires straight at Harlan’s chest. Which deflects and kills Carl. He did nothing but be a good supportive character and they just kill him? They make him seem like a villain, I have autism and my dad walked out. A child with Autism I think needs a regular day to day life. That’s what I do. I have a wonderful father figure now. Carl was always saying how he was proud of his boy, and he might buy him a daisy rifle. He never blamed her for his Autism, which was a regular thing. Calling people retarded was still allowed. I think he was a good father. The forced integration is just ruining my mood lately. Sorry for such a long rant but it’s been on my chest
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2020.08.09 11:41 UnLuckyPotatoe Spying on mom son his
One of my family members recently told me that my dads brother got a huge sum of back payment from the VA and that with it he has began purchasing lots of guns and ammo. Infact he bought my dads sister and her two son's guns as well. I'm not anti-gun but this could end badly for my uncle as well as others maybe. I haven't seen his gun hoard personally, but from what relatives told me it is multiple semiautomatic weapons and thousands of rounds of ammo. And somehow they think its all good.
I think this is an incredibly dangerous situation and don't understand how my uncle was even allowed to purchase a fire arm because he just received VA assistance for the first times and they diagnosed him with paranoid delusions prior to the huge sum of money they gave him. My uncle has never held a job or lived alone untill my grandmother recently died. His room is covered in tin foil and antena parts. He constantly talks about aliens and government conspiracies. He believes he has been abducted. He makes up weird bible verses about aliens. He offered to put the family dog down once by saying he could just take the dog out back and choke it to death. My dad kicked him off of our property because he won't knock on a door he just peers in all of our windows until someone spots him and my mom got pissed. He's entirely unstable and yet has somehow slipped through the cracks of whatever safety precautions the guns store in my area have.
I don't know what to do because to me my uncle having weapons and being a paranoid schizophrenic seems extremely dangerous because he could have a weird day and decide to kill the mailman or something. But on the other hand contacting any kind of police to check on him could easily send him into Waco mode and trigger him to be violent to "protect his second amendment" or defend himself the government spies who are after him or whatever.
I don't know what to do.
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2020.08.01 12:47 FilmBuffBrony Son spying on his mom
I never saw my Grandma a lot when I was younger. There was bad blood between her and her son (my Dad). She was one of those old people with certain ahem racial views. And she had never approved of my Dad marrying a woman of color.
She’s in her late 80s and as tough as ever. My Dad’s migraines tend to get bad whenever she’s even mentioned. I’ve tried to get him and Mom to talk about her more, but it seems to be dead end.
It was on the eve of my 18th birthday that I decided I wanted things to change. So, I drove over to her house to invite her over to celebrate tomorrow. She lived in an old Victorian-era house on the East side of town. As I understood it, most of her neighbors were similar ages to her. They’d all grown old together in their neighborhood.
I looked at the houses on Cherry Street, spying many of the neighbors through the windows. Most of them seemed to be watching TV. As informed, they were all elderly. I found it surprising that none had passed or moved to a retirement home. I could imagine how badly young couples would want to move in here and gentrify the neighborhood.
I reached Grandma’s house and parked in the driveway. As I got out of the car, I felt the first drops of rain beginning to fall. I looked up, taking in the gathering storm clouds. It was going to be a wet one for sure.
My gaze returned to my grandmother’s house and I gave an audible gasp.
Grandma was standing in the front window, staring at me.
She wasn’t smiling. She didn’t really have any sort of emotion at all. I slowly raised my hand and waved to her. As if that were the magic signal, Grandma moved away from the window. She must be heading for the front door.
I hopped up the steps to the door and checked the knob. Locked. I wrapped my knuckles against the wood twice.
“Grandma? It’s me, Lucas. I thought we could visit for a bit.”
I stood on the porch in silence, getting wetter by the second as the rain became steady. I could hear shuffling from inside the house. She must be moving a lot slower these days. I hope I wasn’t making her strain-
I leapt back from the door as something slammed against the door. Oh no!
“Grandma?! Are you okay?”
The knob was jiggling as if Grandma couldn’t quite grasp it. As I reached forward to grab the knob, the door flew open. Grandma stood there with faint smile on her face.
“So good to see you, dear. Won’t you come in?”
I looked her over, not seeing any sign of injury. I was about to ask about the noise but thought better of it. I didn’t want to upset or embarrass her. So, I simply nodded and stepped into the house.
“Sorry it’s been so long since we last saw you. Mom and Dad have a lot going on I guess.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble. I’m sure they have better things to do than to visit little ol’ me.”
She led the way into the parlor. I noticed right off that the window Grandma had been standing in was here. I sat down on the sofa in front of the window and watched Grandam shuffle slowly over to the sofa against the opposite wall. As she moved towards her seat, a flash of lightning illuminated the room. At that moment, I noticed something strange on the wall.
Grandma’s shadow seemed to have extra parts. They were connected to her arms, legs, and head. They looked like…puppet strings. Another flash of lightning confirmed this.
I shook my head and focused on Grandma again. My eyes looked to the top of her head. Nothing. I checked her arms and legs next. Still nothing.
Perhaps I was seeing things…
“How have you been, dear?”
I blinked a few times before answering. “Oh…just fine. I turn 18 tomorrow.”
Grandma smiled, “Oh isn’t that lovely. You’re all grown up.”
My eyes found the wall again and became fixated on Grandma’s shadow. With the storm growing darker outside, the lights in the parlor began to shed more detail on the shadow. The “strings” were moving. And their movements seemed to correlate with Grandma’s. She had begun to talk about being my age. And as her mouth moved, so did the string on her head. She made a small motion with her hand and the corresponding string moved as well. It was like watching a puppet show on the wall.
My eyes went back and forth between Grandma and her shadow. There weren’t any visible strings to see. So why did the shadow have them?
“Is something the matter, dear?”
My eyes locked on Grandma as I tried to form an answer.
“Oh…no! Nothing at all! Are you…feeling okay?”
“Never better! Ever since that nice salesman came by, I’ve felt like a weight has been lifted off me!”
“Oh yes. He says he comes to all us old folks. And the next morning you feel light as a feather! Almost as if you don’t have to support yourself anymore!”
I felt my spine beginning to tingle as Grandma continued.
“Mr. Black, that was his name, promised that if we signed the contract and drank the elixir he gave us, we’d all feel free of any burdens!”
I sat forward.
“What do you mean ‘we’ Grandma?”
“All of us on Cherry Street of course!”
I turned around and looked out the window. The neighbor directly across the street was watching TV. I squinted, trying to make out any other details.
Another flash of lightning lit up the street. And it lit up the neighbor’s front room, casting his shadow against a wall. It wasn’t crystal clear, but there was definitely something extending up from his shadow.
I turned back to Grandma and took a deep breath.
“What was in this…elixir?”
“To be honest, it tasted like water. But it couldn’t have just been that because I’ve noticed the side effect Mr. Black warned us about.”
My eyes found the shadow again.
“Yes. Every so often, my head feels warm. Only for a moment, and then it’s gone. Perfectly harmless. Mr. Black said not to worry or look up and we’d be just fine.”
I froze, slowly looking back at Grandma.
Grandma’s smile faded.
“Well of course. Why would you look up when there’s nothing there?”
I felt the sudden urge to look up above Grandma, but I fought it. She continued.
“Even if there was something there, I doubt you’d want to know.”
“Why…why would you say that?”
“Because there are some things that can’t be unseen, Lucas.”
She began to nod in a very exaggerated way. I looked back at her shadow and saw her head string moving vigorously. And for the briefest moment…
I saw the shadow of a crooked hand at the other end of the string.
I instantly looked down at the floor, not wanting to know what was making my Grandma their personal puppet. I closed my eyes, hoping this was all a dream.
Grandma didn’t say anything. I didn’t hear her moving. But-
Or more accurately….above.
And then my head felt warm. Just for a moment. Just like Grandma described. I felt my entire body tremble as I began to cry.
Something had just blown its breath on my head.
I felt it a second time and dove to the ground, crawling as fast as I could to the door. I never looked up as I ran out into the thunderstorm.
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2020.07.31 20:32 SaltWaterInMyBlood Saltwater [Part 5]
Previous section here
It wasn't much help that, the few times I turned back to look at him, he'd been doing much the same thing. I hated this feeling. I've always loved being outside, in the wilderness or just amongst the trees, with nothing but the sounds of nature and the stars above my head. It's always been a balm to me, to be away from everything - it brings me back to when my world was a lot smaller, and everything was simple. But now, all I wanted was to be back in the car, back in the grip of civilization, and I hated that I had been robbed of it.
The feeling would pass, I was sure, but that was little comfort at the time. Mulcahy was quiet til we reached the car - whether he had his own thoughts to preoccupy him or just sensed I wasn't in the mood for conversation, I don't know. After we'd loaded our stuff into the trunk, I beckoned him for the keys.
"I'll fill 'er up." Standard trade-off - he drove; I navigated, chose the music, and paid for the gas. He tossed them over to me and suggested a coffee for the road.
"Yeah, but not in here. It sucks here. There's a better looking mom-and-pop place just up a bit."
He struck out for caffeine while I pulled up to a pump and did the needful. The sky had clouded over some - the air felt muggy, foul almost, and I thought we might have rain before we got back, if we were lucky. Bellpocket was a bit livelier on a Saturday afternoon than it had been on a weekday morning - not much going on up where I was, but there were a few people milling around towards the harbor end of the high street.
As I watched, I saw Mulcahy come out of the coffee shop, double-barrelled cup holder in hand, and look up the same direction. After a moment, he started walking that way. I swiped my card, got back in his car, and drove down. I pulled into one of the free spaces in front of Seaview House - it's not like anyone else was using them - and the second I cracked the door, the smell hit me like a breaking wave.
Fetid, with a cloying tint, even with my arm crossed over my mouth and nose it was overwhelming. My first thought was a spoiled catch, but it didn't smell like any rotten fish I'd ever scraped out of a tupperware hiding at the back of my fridge. It burned like ammonia.
Mulcahy had approached a uniform that was standing around trying to look authoritative. I didn't see him flash his ID, but he must have used the verbal secret handshake all cops have, since they began speaking. I left him to it, and instead walked over to the sea wall, alongside a few townspeople shielding their faces in various ways like I had. The tide was out and a stony shingle beach had been revealed.
On it lay a tiny, temporarily beached fishing boat; and five dolphins. Clearly, the stench was coming from them, because clearly, they were dead, and then some. I asked the teary-eyed woman next to me what had happened.
"They just appeared out of nowhere. Why isn't anyone doing anything?"
The animals were well beyond help - the bloated carcasses were already in a pretty advanced state of decay, if I was any judge - but I didn't point that out to her. She seemed upset enough as it was. She was right about them not having been here before, though - doing the math in my head, the tide would have been at a similar ebb when we'd driven past this morning, and the air certainly hadn't been this toxic then.
"Who even handles this kind of-"
There was a collective gasp, and several people moved back. One of the dolphins had flexed and raised its head off the shingles, and let out a creaking, guttural noise. Now it lay back down, and seemed to deflate slightly, its jaw slack. A fly landed on its open eye. The woman next to me began to weep, softly and angrily.
Me, I'd seen enough. I made to return to the car, Mulcahy spotting me, and after giving a nod to the uniform, he met me there. We traded off hot beverages and keys, and started back.
I asked him if he'd got the full story from his compadre. "Officially, just a run-of-the-mill beaching - it happens sometimes, their sonar gets confused by the heavy freight traffic out in the inlet and they make a wrong turn."
"Seems like they'd have to make more than one wrong turn to reach that harbor. Unofficially?"
He shifted in his seat. "She thinks there might have been a spill of something, fuel, or maybe chemicals. It didn't look like any beaching she'd seen before, like they'd been affected by something more than just underwater noise. And she has a contact on the other side of the inlet - apparently they pulled a guy out of the water just this week. He'd gone missing training for a triathlon, and they found him less than a day later, but he was already in pretty bad condition. Like, 'most of his skin missing', bad."
Mulcahy looked a little green around the gills saying this. Between it and the stench in the harbor, I didn't blame him. "There's probably stuff like that happening all the time, that happens and just gets swept under the rug."
"I dunno, she seemed to think it was unprecedented. She's going to drop a word to the relevant authorities, for all the good it'll do."
There was a few minutes' silence before he spoke up again. "Still - kind of spooky, though, don't you think?"
"I mean, us coming down from up there, where five people died, and there being five fresh deaths to meet us." This really wasn't the topic of conversation I needed right now.
"Right, right. It makes sense - Euler must have been a dolphin-whisperer."
"C'mon. No." He sounded annoyed, but I couldn't help myself.
"Ah, no - you think the dolphins killed them all those years ago, and they've succumbed to their guilt now we're closing in on them. It's like they say - no one ever suspects the dolphin."
"Gimme a break." He was properly pissed now. "I just think it's weird."
"Like, a sign or portent or something? You believe in that kind of stuff?"
His face had a defensive cast to it. "I think there's a lot we don't know about how things work. You never think that?"
I looked out the windshield. "I think that for centuries no one knew what lightning was, but that didn't mean the people who believed it was Thor or Zeus were right."
He shrugged diffidently. "I just think that there's more to the world than we currently know."
Well well. How 'bout that. Maybe he really had been worried about Bigfoot. It hadn't been my intention - no judgement, it's good to be open-minded and Lord knows people believe stranger stuff - but I think I'd embarrassed him with the way I'd responded. I tried to think of a way to make up for it, but he changed the subject.
"Where did you say you were from again, originally?"
I hadn't. "Montana. Near the border with Wyoming. You wouldn't have heard of the name."
"Oh." He caught my wry smile. "Heard that question before, huh?"
I grinned. "Sure have. It was really isolated, tiny, just my extended family really, and they were all first, second generation immigrants. I stopped saying 'aluminium' and spelling color with a 'u' the moment I left, but some subtler stuff still slips through."
"Right, right, cos it's not your accent, it's more like-"
"Your idiom. Man, you really have heard that question before." There had been a time when it was the first thing anyone ever asked me.
"So, you're a reformed prepper? All water stockpiles and silos full of ammo?"
I laughed. "Nah, it wasn't a Waco type thing. Amish would be a closer bet. Think electricity, but no TV. My father was a pastor, of sorts, they all adhered to some kind of homebrew Christianity. Sermons and the occasional festivity."
He was silent while we pulled out of an intersection. "That sounds kind of, y'know, like-"
"A cult? It wasn't. It was harmless. They barely even took it seriously, they just liked the quiet rural life." It was true - it'd seemed harmless as I was growing up, and by the time I'd left, for different reasons, things had gotten even more relaxed. I remembered, as a kid, some fairly formal rituals spaced around the year, speeches and songs and plates of food passed around bonfires, but later on they'd mostly just been BBQs and potlucks and outdoor gatherings.
It had been dull, if anything. When I was younger, I don't think I ever made it through a full night of it without dozing off.
That wasn't to say it hadn't been a part of my life, though - one of my earliest memories was the thrill I'd felt one warm summer evening, when I'd finally been allowed to stay up to take part, and how special I felt to have my own cup to drink the amber cider my aunt always made for the occasions.
And my disappointment at just how terrible it had tasted, and the gentle laughter around the circle at the face I'd made after my first bitter sip. How worried I'd been that I'd hurt her feelings.
The past is another country. Mine felt like it was on another planet.
"You get to visit with them much?"
"No." I'd probably said enough. Mulcahy seemed to feel he'd heard enough, and didn't ask any follow-ups.
"Whu- sorry, say again?"
"Salvini. It was his case that put me onto this in the first place. I hadn't pulled the report when you put in the request, but I was going to anyway."
Uh-oh. "Really? Why?"
"Well, he made some deliveries of his own while he did the official stuff. You know what bike couriers are like, if they can't hook you up, they can put you in contact with someone who can." True. I didn't partake of the devil's lettuce, let alone anything stronger, but if I had, I probably would have known Salvini a lot better than I had. I blinked. Maybe as well as Joan had. Man. She had always seemed so strait-laced. Go Joan.
"I talked to his girlfriend about it. I think - in fact, I'm certain - that at some point during his last week, he made a delivery - and it was one that Euler hired him for." He paused, and when this proved not to be the bombshell he'd thought it was going to be, looked at me a little suspiciously.
If I was going to come clean, now was the time. But why should I? He'd sat on this for just as long, and I didn't owe him anything. It wasn't like I'd asked him to give up his free time and come up here with me to tramp around the- damnit that was exactly what I'd done, wasn't it? Shit. Time to face the music.
"You haven't managed to find out who that delivery was to, though, have you?"
"...No." There was a warning note in his voice. I winced.
"Okay. See, about that..."
In his defence, he took it quite well. No more than a third of his reaction was profanity, and his voice was back down to a normal volume in less than a minute. Model of restraint, all told.
"Why the HELL didn't you tell me?!"
"I didn't think it was relevant! I had no idea you'd been looking into Euler and Bellpocket before I asked you about it." Sort of. I hadn't known, but for sure I'd had an idea.
He slammed his hand into the steering wheel. "You didn't know that it wasn't relevant!"
"You'll set the airbag off doing that."
"Airbags don't work that way! And don't change the subject!"
I sighed. "Okay. Okay, sorry. I should have brought this up before now. But do you want to know the details or not?"
The more I told him about the package and its contents, the more ridiculous I felt, but it did have the side benefit that once I'd finished, Mulcahy had pretty much forgotten to be angry. "You're not making this up?"
"I wish. I can show you the letter and the bone though if you want." He wanted.
"I think that cements the connection between Euler and the deaths." Neither of us had actually acknowledged it out loud, but we had both stopped calling them suicides. "That bone thing certainly sounds like it belongs in some godforsaken pagan ritual."
This was a bit rich coming from a guy who'd spent every Sunday of his childhood praying in front of an effigy of someone nailed to a cross, but there might be something in it nevertheless. I had investigated the thing as an artwork, or a gimmicky goth trinket, but not as a religious artifact. It seemed now to be a bit of an oversight on my part.
"Spent the cash yet?" I squirmed at this. Honestly, I'd been wondering how nice a gravestone $10k would buy. Genteel and refined as Euler might have been, I'd been well off the mark when I'd judged her to be rich. Her business hadn't exactly been flourishing, and after paying Salvini, what she'd sent me must have been almost every last cent she'd had.
Mulcahy continued to think out loud. "That makes her death all the more suspicious. Not only did she plan to hire Salvini well in advance, she was blowing everything she had to her name. I think she knew she wouldn't be around to spend it. It's circumstantial, but it sure as hell smells like she saw it coming, self-inflicted or otherwise."
"You think the two deaths are connected?"
"Enough that I'd like to show the driver's face to some people who knew her. See if it sparks any recognition. I'll talk to my boss about it Monday." He huffed in an affronted manner. "I could have done it today, if I'd known about this before. We really need to start sharing everything we've got on this. We're supposed to be working together, not against each other. Is there anything else you haven't told me yet?"
I keep seeing sea-monsters everywhere. "No. Nothing."
We were both lost in thought, until, I heard, in a calmer, quiet tone: "I'm sorry about your father. You never mentioned."
I brushed this off. "It's fine. We weren't close."
"She died when I was just a little kid."
"No one else from your family got in contact afterwards, about the funeral, or even just to let you know?"
"No. They wouldn't have. I'm not sure they'd know how."
"You don't-?" "I don't" Leave it. He did.
"Everything. You must have a hypothesis. You've been on this a lot longer than I have. String it together for me."
I glumly watched the rain sluice off the road ahead. "You want the Occam's Razor version, or the tinfoil hat version?"
He made a show of pondering this. "Occam's Razor. To start with."
"Right. Once upon a time, a few lonely unstable people did something foolish to themselves and got dead as a result. The small-town cops who had to deal with it were in way over their heads, as was the ME, who was probably just a local family doctor. They cleaned things up, put a lid on it, and tried to pretend it never happened. It would be of no help to the poor souls already departed, and the town would only suffer more if things got out.
"The sole connection to those people was an odd ball woman who was already on the edge of the community, and while people didn't break out the torches and pitchforks, they didn't exactly embrace her as one of their own, either. Nearly three decades of that would loosen anyone's grasp on normal behavior. People not talking to you, but talking about you, behind your back - it'd inject constant paranoia into your life.
"She knew my father - not well, but enough that she was aware when he died, and that his son was a PI. She's probably even forgotten exactly why her neighbors are like this towards her after so long, and between their treatment, and, let's be fair, he advancing years, she's a bit out of touch with reality and fears someone's out to get her. She wants to hire me to find out who. But she's well gone by this point, full 'reds under the bed' mode, and she employs this cloak and dagger routine to go about it, not even telling me exactly what she wants me to help out with.
"Not long after, the stress gets to her, and she kicks the bucket. And as it happens, in a totally unrelated incident, the guy she used to get in contact with me loses a fight with the back of a truck. The end."
"That's a pretty dull razor. I mean, you even missed a few spots."
"Your skill with metaphor amazes."
"Thanks. Now, with your tinfoil hat on?"
I grimaced like I was chewing it instead of wearing it. "1989. Satanic panic. The more rural it is, the more terrified 'ordinary decent folk' are of the other, the outsider, and the more they feel the need to do something about it themselves. These five strangers, maybe harmless, maybe not, chose the wrong place to practice some sort of occult religious ceremony. Euler was probably involved too, if not to the same extent.
"The community-minded townspeople - maybe just a few, but definitely more than one - decide this cannot be tolerated, so they interrupt the proceedings, and things get out of hand. Well out of hand. The cops start a proper investigation, but when they realize what happened, they close ranks, and bury it. But Euler knows. Not the details, but she knows that her neighbors have blood on their hands, her friends' blood.
"She's frightened, and helpless. Anyone she passes on the street might be a murderer, and it's not like she can go to the police for help. She lives with this shadow over her for nearly 30 years, until age creeps up on her and she finds out she's not long for this world. This emboldens her, she's not got much to lose now, so she looks up an out of town PI. After finding me, and probably looking into me a bit, she finds out my father died recently, so waits a little before getting in contact. Hell, maybe she feels that it'll incentivize me to figure out what happened to her loved ones." Swing and a miss, Laurie. Although, that said, here I was.
"But someone who was originally involved in the massacre gets wind of her efforts, and decides to mete out the punishment they feel she ought to have received alongside her unclean friends back then. They drag her up to that cliff, they might have even reconstructed that hut to get her to face her sins, and it proves too much for her. She has a cardiac episode, and her attacker, not wanting her to have a natural death, but rather a righteous judgement, shoves her off the edge.
"The message goes out anyway, though, and this person, desperate to halt the chain of dominoes falling, crudely bumps off Salvini, hoping he hasn't passed it along yet, though in fact he has. You know the rest."
Mulcahy said nothing, and after thinking about it for many long seconds, replied. "That does cover more facts than the first theory. Neither fits perfectly, but that one is a lot closer."
"It's crazy. It's 'I Know What You Did 29 Summers Ago'."
But he shook his head. "You'd be surprised at what people are capable of. How long they'll hold grudges, how far they'd be willing to go to keep their dirty laundry hidden. And for a lot less than mass murder."
"It's got holes in it a mile wide. One, if Euler wasn't batty, why the spy-vs-spy game of hiring me? Why not just pick up the phone, or drive down to meet me? And the tone of the letter is 'you are cordially invited', not 'help me Obi-wan Moriarty, you're my only hope'."
He was grinning but his answer was serious. "Maybe she thought she was being watched. And maybe she was. The theory relies on the communication being found out, after all."
"Two, I can buy that small-minded people might whip thems- wind themselves up enough to lynch a few defenceless pagans, but in that way? The way they died was more brutal than a few good ol' boys letting loose with a baseball bat or their fists."
"Neither version explains that, and it's less plausible that people would do that to themselves, than to another."
"And three, if someone was willing to finish off Euler, fine. She was in the same deserving 'sinful' category as the original victims. But if they were willing to kill someone outside that category, just to protect their secret - someone who wasn't even aware of what had happened - why kill Salvini? He wasn't going to do anything to unearth the truth, he was just a link in the chain. Why not just kill me? Or for that matter, since they did kill Salvini, why stop with me?"
It had left my mouth even as I had thought it, and it shocked me into silence. It wasn't like the idea hadn't occurred to me before now, but hearing it out loud solidified the concept. It was a disturbingly good point. I couldn't un-say it, but I tried to reel it back anyway, and let out a forced chuckle. "Of course, who's to say they have stopped."
"Not funny. That's not funny." Mulcahy said quietly.
"C'mon. You think someone might be out to kill me?"
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "I'll tell you what I think. I think you were crazy to ever consider coming up here on your own."
I'll admit he had me there.
"Listen - we have to consider the benefits of pursuing this further. You could be making yourself a target."
I nodded. "On top of that, if this really is a cover-up by the force in Edelburg, you could be doing so too. You could be risking your career."
He snorted. "Fat chance. Not much to risk. I'm not worried about that, I'm just concerned about what it might mean for you."
It was the sensible thing to do - disengage, go back to how it was before. Leave well enough alone. In the back of my mind, it just didn't feel like it was an option open to me. "I could back off, sure. But - you know, when you're halfway through a terrible movie, and it seems like you're wasting your time sitting through to the end of it? But if you do, you can say that, once, you saw a terrible movie. If you get up and walk out-"
"For the rest of your life, you're halfway through a terrible movie. So. You're gonna keep on this?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."
He looked down for a moment, then tapped his fingers on the car roof, and looked back up. "Okay then. Me too. Let's catch up later in the week."
I bade him safe journey and walked up to my front door. Behind me the car door opened, but didn't close when it should have. "Hey."
I turned, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking into the trees that lined the driveway. "Hey - you therHEY! POLICE, IDENTIFY YOURSELF!" He sprinted off while I scrambled back to the car to see what the hell he was chasing. I could see him crashing through the undergrowth, ducking under branches and looking back and forth. After a minute, he stopped, and started making his way out.
I gave him a 'wtf' face, as he brushed leaves and twigs off his clothes. "You feeling all right there, buddy?"
He looked a little shame-faced. "Thought I saw someone out there. Probably a little on edge. It was nothing though."
I was leaning against the side of the car. It wasn't holding me up, exactly, but I didn't feel quite confident enough to step away from it. "What did you see?"
He looked thoughtful and turned back to the trees for a moment. "Nothing clearly. Just a guy, standing maybe 30, 40 ft off."
"What did he look like."
"Couldn't make out much. There was nothing, though, he couldn't have gotten anywhere without me seeing. Besides it's a bit early for Halloween. Looked like a soaking wet gilly suit with most of the strips pulled off. Probably just a trick of the - what? Conor? What is it?"
submitted by SaltWaterInMyBlood to nosleep [link] [comments]
2020.07.28 16:30 jbor2000 Son spying on his mom
So, the premise of this is LOK has 26-episode seasons like lots of other modern cartoons, and the benefit of hindsight to weave its seasons together.
Book 1's biggest problems were:
2020.07.28 14:31 Heretic_Noir Son spying on his mom
This is a bit convoluted, but I'm going to try to keep it as concise as possible.
The backstory: When I was a teen (sophomore - senior in high school), basically my boyfriend's mom had me stalked/stalked me. She was completely psycho. She went as far as hiring a PI to investigate me. I became aware of this because she ended up with photos of me around school and my neighborhood (before camera phones so someone lit had a camera to tail me). She also knew about a trip I took driving 4 hours from my home to visit friends who lived in a very rural area. She knew minutia details of my trip that I know my boyfriend didn't tell her (such as where I got gas on the way). She worked as a pharmacist and used her access through that to pull my prescription history. It ended because she basically grabbed my arm, in front of a cop, in front of a police station, which is technically assault. She knew I had years to file charges, with a cop as a witness, and if she got caught doing anything more I would. I didn't really think of myself as having had something traumatic happen at the time. I grew up in a rougher neighborhood, so I just sort of filed it away as "just more crazy ass shit that goes on."
Later when her son and I separated, he stalked me (I guess no surprise considering his mother). I wasn't ever afraid of him really hurting me, but he did invade my privacy. I would get calls where someone made sounds like they were masturbating into the phone (before cell phones had caller ID so I couldn't prove who). My apartment faced a major roadway, and he could sit in the restaurant across the street and see into my apartment through my vertical blinds and would call and let me know he could see me. Finally, he showed up a few places I was at, and was pretty open it was because he'd followed me. Again, I didn't really think of it as something traumatic at the time.
Current events: I've been married now for 14 years (together 16). My spouse has had a progressively paranoid personality. Within the past 6 months, it's crossed a boundary from "trust issues" to unacceptable behavior. First, I found out people he knows around where we live (not a small town, but small enough you regularly run into people you know) were calling him giving him tabs on me. For example, once I was eating lunch with my mom on my break, he texted me wanting to know who I was eating lunch with because my car was in the restaurant parking lot. Another time a few weeks later I rode with my co-workers to a Starbucks down the street to get a coffee to go on my 15. All of my co-workers are male, and I when I got home he asked me who were "all the dudes" I was getting coffee with. Literally, rode with 2 other male co-workers to Starbucks, grabbed coffee to go, and rode back to work. We had a huge fight, and he kept claiming he wasn't "telling anyone to watch me" but that "people just called him who knew him," but my point-of-view was that he obviously wasn't telling them not to, so he was giving a tacit approval of it.
Recently, I found out he and his mother did something that allowed them to access all of my private messages on at least Facebook and Instagram, including deleted ones, not sure about the other platforms. I know because he had very specific knowledge of things I'd said, inc things I know I'd deleted, like messages from friends sent in confidence. FWIW, a torrid affair or whatever they were looking for wasn't happening. I had completely platonic and fairly superficial messages from people of both genders/unknown genders, a few conversations with friends venting when he'd pissed me off, etc. He was mad that I was "talking to guys" and "said things not nice about him" but I told him I'm not going to feel bad about having platonic conversations about things like archery or a fandom, and I'm sure he wouldn't want me to see a transcript of everything he's said to his buddies about me when we're fighting nor do I care since I know people do have to vent. After that we had another huge fight, and I actually was packing up my shit to leave, but he agreed to get some help and I (to a degree against my better judgement) decided to give it a chance. A few days later, I basically had a nervous breakdown over it. I can't fully explain why. I mean, yeah, it's obviously a pretty horrific invasion of my privacy, but it's definitely a lot deeper than that. Like even now just talking about it makes me feel queasy. Part of this most recent thing feels more insidious because unlike a person watching you (which you may see) or phone calls, I can't control this. I work in IT and even reached out to some friends who have more ISS experience than myself and a lawyer friend about potential tools used to spy on people's phones. The general consensus we've ruled out a spy app on my phone, and with them having deleted messages, it's likely she used her connections to past working in the legal field to have someone request my information directly from Facebook, due to having messages that were deleted months ago. Facebook basically is non-responsive to requests for verification, so there's nothing I can really do about it. Since I can't 100% figure what's been done to get the info, I'm not using my phone for most communication, which is very isolating. I'm doing this on my work PC, which is still secure. Right now no matter how nice or whatever he is, I just can't shake this feeling about what they did.
Two days ago, he showed me a device he'd purchased from his boss' son that basically does a man-in-the-middle attack on cell phones, allowing you to pull the data off of them. He claimed it got it just because everyone at work was getting them, and he had no intention of using it, and he was telling me so I would know he had it and wasn't going to use it, but I believe that 0 percent. I feel knowing how what he and his mom did impacted me, and in that we talked about my history with my privacy being invaded, etc - you don't bring shit like that home. It seems like a way to subtly remind me I still have no privacy. I didn't really let myself react to it, because it leads me to wanting to leave, and I don't want to create any hints that I may.
There's been other changes. In however many years Facebook and Twitter have been out, he's always been like, "I've got no interest in that. I think it's silly," to the point he told me he didn't want to be mentioned on my own social media because he wanted to be a more private person, which I respected. All of a sudden now he wants my profile picture to be us and wants me to post a bunch of stuff about us, even wanted me to change the page to both our names. It feels petty in a way to be bothered about this, but in light of all the other stuff, it feels like just more ways to isolate me and erase me as a separate person with things like any privacy. I know it's not because all a sudden he's legitimately decided he wants to be on any of those platforms.
To be honest, I'm not even 100% sure where I'm going with all of this. I feel like maybe I have more unaddressed trauma from what happened when I was a teen than I realized. My reaction to them going through my messages feels disproportionate to it, even as bad as it was. I do already see a therapist due to bipolar II, anxiety, and OCPD - but I've never really gone into this part of my past. Like I said, when I found out what they did, I had a complete nervous breakdown, anxiety, and if it weren't for his intervention would have already had my shit packed and be gone. I can't shake not being able to know if they're still spying on me or not. I can't feel I can trust him not to do more, seeing as how he already bought that device. I was going to look at it more today when he went to work, but it's not where he left it, which leads me to believe either 1) he's hidden it around the house to record whatever from me or 2) he took it with him to work so I couldn't get a hold of it. I guess part of this is to talk to some people who make have understanding of what this all feels like.
Right now I have the urge to just grab everything I own and run, though I guess I couldn't communicate to anyone with my phone since they could possibly be getting my messages and I worry about if they're able to geolocate it. I don't know if that's overreacting. Maybe I'm so worried about overreacting that I'm forcing myself to do the opposite. I'm incredibly sensitive to feeling like my privacy was violated, even smaller things like going through my texts or whatever without my consent, even though there's nothing there to hide. Maybe I'm too sensitive. IDK, all of this is just making me have to really think about things I've never taken the time to think about, and I'm not even sure what to think at all.
EDIT: So after looking around the house I found the box to the device. It wasn't a phone interceptor, but it was an audio bug. I found the invoice with it. It had been ordered at the same time as the other stuff and he'd had it month. The invoice showed his mom had also ordered this. My mom came and got me, and I left. I went directly to my MIL's house to tell her in person I wanted my chats. She denied having them, and I wasn't going to start too much in her home, so I pretended to not know for sure it was her; however, I did record the entire conversation (I live in a single party consent state so that's legal). I didn't tell her I found the invoice for the bug and knew 100% she was involved. My mom now has the bug, its box, and the invoice. The bug doesn't look like it was actually used (it seems like it was never charged).
The day I left I scheduled an appt with a lawyer and got a PO Box. There's a housing shortage here, so I was kinda screwed as far as what to do from there. He contacted me after he got home an utter wreck because he realized he'd ruined pretty much everything. The lawyer suggested I give myself 30 days to really decide what I'm going to do. He scheduled an appointment with a therapist yesterday, which I guess could mean he's going to try to work through his utter fuckery, which apparently he got from his mom's side. So I'm revisiting a final decision in 30 days. On the other hand, the lawyer told me not to worry about retaining one if we were to divorce. We don't have any joint assets or finances or kids. I haven't done anything wrong. There's nothing he can do to me in the event of a divorce that a lawyer would protect me from. He said a lawyer would be a waste of money, and if that's so, let him do all the wasting.
submitted by Heretic_Noir to Stalking [link] [comments]
2020.07.28 03:19 WaddlesJP13 Son spying on his mom
I'm sick of holding this in. Dave, you're the definition of douchebag. Your wife is the definition of bitch. Your kids are all spoiled brats. When you moved here from Dallas, Texas a year and a half ago, we tried to be nice to you and had a whole conversation with you, we even let your kids play with my pet alligator and sit in my fun car collection. On Christmas Eve, we went over to your house and gave you a Christmas gift basket with cookies, candy canes, hot chocolate mixes, pretzels, and we even bought you some champagne. On you oldest son Justin's birthday, you invited us and asked if we could get him this $120 drone, which we did get for him, but apparently he didn't want it anymore because we saw it for sale when we went to your yard sale 5 weeks after we got him the drone. But guess what? We didn't care. We still went to Ava's birthday and got her an Elsa doll and Jaxxon's birthday and got him some Hot Wheels tracks.
But, then comes my birthday, I invite you and your family. You don't come. I go to your house and ask why you didn't come and your response is that you were having a lazy day, even after I told you March 10th was my birthday.
We were so nice to you. We wanted you and your family to be friends with us. We spent hundreds of dollars on you and you have done nothing to us at all. You haven't even ever gone over to our house and say thank you for everything we have done for you. Like, you wouldn't even come over went I asked you if you wanted to watch a baseball game on TV or something. I had to go to you and do what you wanted for your spoiled family. So guess what Dave? Fuck you.
Fuck your bigass silver Toyota Tundra with its shiny grille. Remember when I repaired it for you? You broke down on Interstate 50 and were an hour away from the city. You called me and I drove all the way over there to help you.
Fuck your pitbull you store in your backyard to let it bark all night and scare Al. Yes, your dog is so fucking terrifying that my pet alligator, which is normally at the top of the food chain, comes into my room doing some weird shriek noise, which is him screaming and crying.
Fuck your fireworks. Just fuck them. All you do with them is launch them for the entirety of the 4th of July weekend until it's midnight. You even launch them in from of my house so that you don't ruin your precious Tundra.
Fuck your wife, Jennifer, and her big black Chevrolet Suburban and her annoying voice. All she did was brag about her life and that she's a soccer mom every time I passed by and said "hello" to her while she stands there letting Ava play in the street.
Fuck your 11 year old son Justin for selling the expensive drone I bought him for his birthday. And you know what? Fuck the little league team YOU COACH and he plays on. It's unfair that you kick players out for "tripping" him, then when he slams someone to the ground on purpose you let it go.
Fuck your 6 year old son Jaxxon for being annoying and having the dumbest ass-sucking name ever. Like first of all, it's spelt JACKSON, and second of all, Jackson isn't even a first name. Jackson means "son of Jack", and he's not a "son of Jack", he's a son of a bitch!!! Fuck his soccer team, too.
Fuck your 4 year old daughter Ava and her little pink princess dress she wears around while picking grass from my nice yard to feed to her pink plush cow. And that reminds me, PAY MORE ATTENTION TO HER!!! She's probably been as far as Canada because you don't pay attention to her!
Fuck your older brother Eric for flirting with my wife Michelle and catcalling her over your fence every time she bends over and her asscrack or underwear is showing. Fuck off, Eric. She's 24, you're 40, pervert. And I'd like for him to stop denying that we're married just because we're young. We married a year ago, at a wedding WE INVITED YOU TO BUT YOU DIDN'T ATTEND!!!!!
Fuck your mom Susan for spying on us every time she stays at your house. I also hate the fact that she calls my wife's clothes "slutty" and "trashy" meanwhile she's sunbathing HALF NAKED IN HER SON'S FRONT YARD. Fucking disgusting.
Honestly, I wish that when Al hijacked my passenger jet, he busted through your yard, not my actual good neighbors'. I wish that I was allowed to use my glue tank and cover your house in glue. I wish you respected me, but you make more money than me so apparently I'm a peasant and you're a king.
Dave, I'm going to say this one last time, loud and clear for those in the back:
FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! submitted by WaddlesJP13 to HaveWeMet [link] [comments]
2020.07.25 16:38 heply2425JJul Mi-lf Ba-be Solo Po-rn
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2020.07.25 16:15 bigdaddyduergar Son spying on his mom
Father of 2 children, 13 and 11. Both boys. This is a long post, so there will be a TL;DR; at the bottom.
7/25/20 @ 7:01 P.M. EST Update 1 at bottom.
Arrangement between their mother and I through the courts is she is primary residential with a shared parenting plan. I only see the children 5 days a month. We live 90 minutes apart. Normally she's ok with extra time, but now that I'm filing for custody after many years of building a case, she is now refusing, which is helping to make this situation worse.
There is an active court case to change the custody arrangement as well as an emergency custody order filed with the courts because of the below situation.
Yes I have a attorneys. Yes she has a pro-bono attorney.
Both children are now safe with me. My children's sister is not and there's nothing I can legally do.
Yes, I have proof of all of this in police reports, videos, and chat logs. My attorneys have it all.
Yes they have a counselor, however, we'll get into why this doesn't work for the kids below.
The Story so far...
I promise all of this leads up to the question, there's a lot of back story that's needed here because this is a 3-4 year long set of issues.
In the past 28 hours I've had to call the police on my ex-wife and she has called the police on my 13 year old son, as well as filing a police report indicating child abuse, assault, and domestic violence from my ex-wife towards my 13 year old son.
It all started, from what both of my kids are telling me, with their mom taking a belt to their 7 year old sister (not my child, another father who killed himself, that's a whole other story) for standing in the doorway of her room and not cleaning. The little girl has a lot of issues, and rarely is disciplined. My 13 year old told his mom to fuck off and stop, so she chased him into his room, pushed him on his bed, climbed on top of him, and slapped him according to both of my kids "more times than I could count. I tried counting, and couldn't keep up".
My oldest calls me freaking out having a panic attack because he was trying to defend his sister and his mom raged out on him again. I call the police, request a welfare check, and the police come back and say they don't see a problem.
That was 10:30-11pm on 7/23
Scoot forward 11 hours. I'm trying to call and talk to my kids at 10:30 am 7/24 to make sure everything is ok. I call my 11 year old's cell phone. My 13 year old answers. His mom is trying to grab the phone from him and all I hear is "It's my dad, I Just want to talk to my dad, why won't you let me talk to my dad?" and then the phone goes silent. 13 year old cellphone goes straight to voicemail, 11 year old cell phone rings normally and goes to voice mail, and she's ignoring my call. 2 rings, then voice mail. I call the police. They won't do a welfare check because they just did one and don't think there's anything going on.
What happened I found out: my 13 year old was grounded because of the previous night. He was trying to call and talk to me because I've been the only one who listens to him and gives him advice about what's going on and how to handle these situations. She went to take the phone from him when I called. Apparently, as part of his grounding, he isn't allowed to talk to me. Huge red flag there. He walks away from her slapping at him trying to take the phone and sits on the couch. She pulls him off the couch, and throws him on the ground, putting him in a choke hold, and he elbows her and pinches her to get off of him because he can't breathe. So she called the cops and tried filing assault charges on him and sending him off to the detention home.
Why is all of this happening, and how does the question fit with my 13 year old?
First off, we tried to settle the custody outside of the courts. She said my 13 year old can come live with me but not my 11 year old. She later that week told my 13 year old to make sure he sits in the back seat when she's driving because she likes my 11 year old better.
Almost a year ago, she destroyed two laptops I bought for my kids to use for school and be able to call me on zoom and chat with me on discord. She thought I had them set up to spy on her, and she didn't like the kids having open communications with me. At the same time, she was renting a violin for my 13 year old to use. I have connections with a very big music store, and I got a 1200 dollar violin at cost, with a bunch of free stuff to maintain it. That violin was to save her money. She doesn't work and lives off my child support and the social security she gets from her daughter where her dad killed himself.
After the destruction of the laptops, as well as her selling new school clothes I'd buy the kids, telling my 13 year old he looked like "trailer trash" because of the clothes he picked out he likes to wear, her forcing him to destroy his MP3 player his grandma (my wife's mom) bought him for Christmas, all in the span of a month, I told them I'm no sending the violin over to her house because I can't trust it will not be destroyed. 13 year old is pissed, rightfully so, and I explain the situation to him. I can't do it. I won't get another deal like this on a high quality violin, and I'm not going to pay for repairs if she breaks it.
13 year old is mad at me, his mom convinces him I'm a narcissist without knowing the definition, and one day on the phone he's cussing me out reaming me up one wall and down the other. I told him I'm his father, and he needs to be respectful. He's allowed to be pissed and angry, but he needs to be respectful when expressing that. I asked his mom if she was going to let him treat me like that, since he was at her house, and she said "Yes, you deserve it."
Now the above scenario is a culmination of 2-3 years of me telling his mom that if she doesn't sit down and start putting some rules in place and working with him, because they're both stubborn as hell, and come to some sort of an agreement on the expectations, that this was going to happen. She now calls me to handle him when he's giving her the attitude that leads to the fighting outlined above. This is an ongoing issue.
So now I have a 13 year old who thinks his mom hates him, it's ok to completely disrespect someone who makes him mad and he doesn't agree with, and can just throw his weight around whenever he wants to get his way, because she's allowed him to do that with me for so long. Now that it's turned around on her, it's a problem that leads to violence.
How does this question fit my 11 year old?
My 11 year old is ADHD. Talking to this kid is like a motormouth on crack some days. He has a seriously hard time focusing when he's off his meds and that leads to some self-control issues (poking his brother, making annoying noises, general tomfoolery that he has little control over) and she yells at him for it and punishes him.
She has told him he needs to take his medicine so that he behaves. So now when he's at my house and I'm trying to have him take his meds for things like, we're going out and I need him to focus and not be a maniac running in circles at his grandma's house, he thinks it's because he's being punished. Because of this, he's learned ways to hid his medication and not take it, so we have to watch him put it in his mouth, take a drink, and then check his mouth to make sure he's not cheeking it or anything else so he won't be able to take it, and then we keep him out with us for a half hour so if he did cheek it, it will dissolve and he'll still get the benefits from it.
His mom and one of her boyfriends have made fun of him so much at points in time he's been in tears calling me asking why his mom hates him, and now he's starting to do the same thing. I nip it every time I see it, but I'm not around him all the time I get stories about how rude and mean he's being. He doesn't think he's being mean, because his mom did it to him so it must be ok.
So what am I trying to get them to unlearn?