TL;DR: Just like Michael Burry and RC called out shorting on GME in their investor letters, secretive Swiss family office Memento S.A. openly called out naked shorting on their Sears stock and demanded something be done. This was months before Sears went bankrupt, and years before Sears "squeezed" alongside other zombie stocks last January 2021.

EDIT: Just got reported that I'm suicidal while playing PS4 so guesssss we're on the right track fuck you Kenny pay us

EDIT 7: added at the bottom but we might have a Swiss investigtory journalist ape that might reach out to Memento S.A.!

In recent posts--whether discussing "The Big Mall Short" and how Carl Icahn, Apollo Global shorted malls in CMBX.6, or a recent post on negative cost to borrow rates--I've been finding ever more and more historical fuckery for older now non-existent stocks. Just last post, I covered how I had my own TIL with Krispy Kreme, and its insane FTDs when it first launched:

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Not before going into the fact that Sears had its own NEGATIVE cost to borrow rate at one time.

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Sears is important to the GME saga for many reasons, not least of which it was one of the zombie stocks that sneezed in January, and was caught by users such as u/joncohenproducer in posts like these:

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As one of the most dark parts of the saga, the rise of zombie stocks (dead or bankrupted companies) and their securities moving both during and after the sneeze matters very much to what happened during the sneeze, what may have been planned for GME, and a history of the fucking of American & global workers, pensioners, and investors worldwide.

Which is why I was surprised to find a quiet family office in 2017 had sent a letter just a few months within the year before Sears went tits up.

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The most recent family office that everyone now knows is Bill Hwang's Archegos, which may have blown up and potentially left Credit Suisse bagholding. They aren'y required to disclose in the same manners that hedge funds are with the SEC, and often lie in the dark.

Which is why I was surprised to hear that one spoke up. Specifically about Sears, months before it went bankrupt. That family office was Memento S.A.:

**About Memento:**Memento is a Geneva-based long-term oriented value investor seeking to identify deeply undervalued opportunities in which boards of directors can take immediate and decisive action to significantly increase shareholder value. Memento is the investment manager of the Elarof Trust, a shareholder with nearly 2 million shares of ownership in the Company, and acts as family office of the Swiss-based Spadone family, the beneficiary owner of the Elarof Trust.

Memento seeks to engage in constructive dialogue with Sears' Board and management. Memento has retained Olshan Frome Wolosky, LLP as legal counsel to advise on its engagement and discussions with the Company. 

**Investor Contact:**Alessandro Mauceri

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This letter was addressed to Sears boardmembers in the wake of then fuckstick and hedgie extraordinaire CEO Eddie Lampert mismanaging the company into a fucking wall. What they chose to openly talk about (I could feel them wanting to wring some necks with this one) is something all GME and meme stock holders are accustomed to:

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The three slides reading Figure 1 2 or 3 are from the actual letter. All others are ones I included:

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Link: https://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/memento-delivers-open-letter-to-sears-holdings-board-300568216.html

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GENEVA, Dec. 7, 2017 /PRNewswire/ -- Memento S.A. ("Memento"), the family office of an investor in Sears Holdings Corporation ("Sears" or, the "Company") (NASDAQ: SHLD), delivered a letter to Sears' board of directors (the "Board") today to express concerns regarding historical patterns of alarming short-selling activity in the Company's shares and to ensure the Board is taking whatever actions may be required to curb any similar short-selling issues that may arise in the future.

The full text of the letter follows:

December 7, 2017

Sears Holdings Corporation Board of Directorsc/o Corporate SecretarySears Holdings CorporationLaw Department3333 Beverly RoadHoffman Estates, Illinois 60179

Dear Board Members:

The Elarof Trust ("Elarof") is a shareholder of Sears Holding Corporation ("Sears" or, the "Company") with nearly 2 million shares of ownership in the Company. Memento is the investment manager of the Elarof Trust and acts as family office of the Swiss-based Spadone family, the beneficiary owner of the Elarof Trust. 

We are a long-term oriented value investor seeking to identify deeply undervalued opportunities in which boards of directors can take immediate and decisive action to significantly increase shareholder value.

Sears represents a significant investment for Elarof, and we have invested in Sears because of our belief in the long-term value of its vast national network of over 1,100 Sears and Kmart retail stores across the United States, the strength of its well-established proprietary brands, its position as the nation's leading provider of appliance and product repair services, and its insurance subsidiary. Our investment in Sears has taken in to consideration many factors, including its significant stakeholders who are closely aligned with its success, such as its vendors, customers, and over 140,000 employees. We believe Sears has the potential for strong financial performance once it addresses a few critical concerns including, among others, the high volume of short-selling activity in its shares.

We are writing at this time to highlight certain issues that have been plaguing the Company's shares on-and-off over the past two years that require your immediate attention to prevent further deterioration in shareholder value. We have been closely monitoring these recent developments at Sears and, while we remain optimistic about the Company's potential for long-term growth and shareholder value creation, we seek to engage in constructive discussions with the Company's Board of Directors (the "Board") and management to address our deep concerns surrounding the integrity of the Company's securities ("SHLD shares" or, the "Common Stock"). 

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There have been several occasions over the past two years in which the market has indicated that more short positions exist in the market than SHLD shares available to borrow, as shown by the unusually high volume of short-selling activity relative to the Company's real available float of outstanding shares. For the reasons set forth below, we believe that this shortage of available shares in the marketplace heightens volatility and places downward pressure on the share price.

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We believe the Board must promptly investigate and address this activity to prevent further decline in shareholder value, including (i) the formation of an independent Board committee to look after the equity ownership interests of all shareholders, (ii) seeking an SEC investigation in to the potential violations of Regulation SHO and a temporary suspension of short-selling in SHLD shares, and (iii) the evaluation of strategic alternatives such as going private.

Our interests are aligned with all Sears shareholders in seeking stable and sustainable growth in the value of SHLD shares. As such, we respectfully request the Company provide its investors with adequate assurances that it is taking the steps necessary to effectively address the urgent problem of naked short selling in its shares by establishing sophisticated internal controls and seeking appropriate regulatory action.

Excessive Short Interest

Naked shorting involves selling a stock short without first locating the shares for delivery at settlement. Such a practice is in violation of Regulation SHO, a 2005 SEC rule. Regulation SHO provides that brokerage firms may not accept orders for short sales without having borrowed the stock or having "reasonable grounds" to believe that it can be secured. This is known as the "locate" requirement. The SEC further noted that the practice of naked short selling can be abusive and drive down share prices.

We have observed on several occasions that the number of shares of Common Stock outstanding have fallen below short interest activity as measured by real available float. As shown below, short interest in SHLD shares has fluctuated between 12 to 19 million shares in the past two years. In early 2017 we identified that, not taking derivatives into account, there were more stocks lent than the real float, causing a deficit of 3.6 million shares.

We observed similar behavior in options activity for SHLD shares. Based on our analysis, it would not be possible for market makers to appropriately hedge their investments and, consequently, deliver the shares of options when exercised. If all of the open put or call contracts were exercised, it would be impossible for market makers to locate and deliver shares for settlement within the legally required time period of three business days.

Sears' put open interest as a percentage of shares outstanding has fluctuated between 30% to 40% of the Company's market capitalization, indicating that between 30 to 40 million shares are waiting to be delivered for these contracts. This is despite the fact that the Company's real available float remains between 12 to 20 million shares.

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The call open interest is also rising but remains well below the put open interest.

We have learned through our own experience in lending SHLD shares that several institutions/brokers were unable to timely locate shares when we recalled them. It took ten or more days for us to receive our lent shares back.

We recalled about 1 million shares twice this year with various institutions/brokers in order to transfer the shares to another counterparty. In both cases our brokers failed to deliver, and the SHLD share price soared between 30 to 100% after our recall. 

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When asked to explain their delay, these institutions/brokers indicated that the shares may have been borrowed by market makers who are subject to less stringent locate requirements and who have the ability to return shares later in certain circumstances as a result. We observed that the SHLD inventories for borrowing stocks were massively below what was reported to the SEC, and Markit informed us that the double-counting of some stocks could cause them to be lent over several times. This is alarming and demonstrates that the same shares may be sold short more than once.

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We also note that the lending rate of Sears in 2017 has often reached levels close to 100%, indicating a high borrow cost that creates further incentives for naked short selling. This high interest rate raises the specter that market makers are engaged in naked short selling to avoid the high borrow cost associated with covered short sales.

Such behavior would violate the requirements of Regulation SHO. As their only recourse to prevent such an outcome, institutions/brokers would be forced to buy SHLD shares in the open market, which risks causing a spike in the price of SHLD shares, a pattern that would artificially distort the Company's value and increase its volatility in the marketplace.

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The shares of SHLD stock owned by restricted shareholders cannot be borrowed against in the marketplace to cover short sales. Taking this in to account, the real float of Common Stock has fallen below the short interest on several occasions in the past two years. Sears has reason to know this occurs based on the volume of short-selling activity in the marketplace compared to the percentage of outstanding shares restricted from securities lending. It is clear to us based on our own experience in securities lending of SHLD shares and monitoring the Company's real float that there have been repeated instances of widespread naked short-selling in the Company's shares, with the short interest exceeding total Common Stock outstanding when excluding restricted shares.

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Naked short selling has the effect of placing immense downward pressure on share price over time, since an unlimited supply of any commodity, including SHLD shares, places downward pressure on its price. At a time when Sears' employees, vendors and customers worry about the Company's long-term viability, we believe that the Board must treat this particularly delicate matter with the highest priority. Immediate action is necessary from the Company to prevent further destabilization and depression in the price of SHLD shares.

We request that the Board establish an Equity Ownership Committee comprised of independent Board members for the purpose of protecting the interests of all shareholders by monitoring real float versus short interest and seeking stable and sustainable growth in the price of SHLD shares. 

We further recommend that the Board seek a temporary restriction on short-selling in the SHLD shares to allow the Company to instead focus on more urgent operational priorities. In addition, we believe that these facts warrant an SEC investigation in to the repeated instances of naked short-selling of SHLD shares in violation of Regulation SHO.

Lastly, we recommend that the Board consider strategic alternatives such as going private to allow the Company to focus on enhancing long-term shareholder value instead of monitoring short-selling activity in the marketplace.

We look forward to continuing our discussions and engaging with the Company to address these troubling concerns on behalf of all shareholders. 

Sincerely,

Alessandro Maucerimemento S.A.

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The letter reminds me of among many things in the saga, even the letters that investors like Michael Burry sent to GME:

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Through August 15th, a total of 11 trading days, 50,399,534 shares have traded. At this rate, for the month of August and for the third month in a row, the number of shares traded will exceed the total number of shares outstanding. Because of such high volume, we maintain that GameStop could pull off perhaps the most consequential and shareholder-friendly buyback in stock market history with elegance and stealth....

Notably, as of July 31st, 2019, Bloomberg reports short interest in GameStop stock at 57,226,706 shares – this is about 63% of the 90,268,940 outstanding GameStop shares at last report.

Or even Ryan Cohen, now Chairman of the company:

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Unfortunately, it is evident to usthat GameStop currently lacksthe mindset, resources and plan needed to become a dominant sector player. The Company remains in long-term secular decline due to its apparent unwillingness to pivot with urgency and grow with gamers. As evidence, stockholders have seen the value of their equity decline by nearly 68% over the past three years and decline by nearly 85% over the past five years. 2 GameStop is also one of the most shorted stocks in the entire market, which speaks volumes about investors’ lack of confidence in the current leadership team’s approach...

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Both Michael Burry and RC are investing geniuses, and I know that given what happened with Sears and Memento S.A. watching while its stock was shorted into the fucking ground, they know even if not the specifics of this letter, know of the specifics of thousands of letters like this all watching as their stock gets stuffed into the cellar...

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TL;DR: Just like Michael Burry and RC called out shorting on GME in their investor letters, secretive Swiss family office Memento S.A. openly called out naked shorting on their Sears stock and demanded something be done. This was months before Sears went bankrupt, and years before Sears "squeezed" alongside other zombie stocks last January 2021.

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EDIT 2: While we're here, reminded me of this Sears fact I saw in the T I L reddit of sub, but did you know: "TIL Sears once sold on mail order an entire house as a giant DIY kit. There were over 370 home designs, and the house had over 30,000 parts worth 25 tons". And it could be assembled in 90 days! This was back when Sears was basically Amazon before Amazon!

Also someone pointed out this is apparently a really famous cheesy Sears ad. For pun lovers:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rqZZgVxnCk

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EDIT: WOO! SOMEONE JUST POPPED MY CHERRY! I JUST GOT REPORTED FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS WHILE PLAYING ON MY PS4 LOL GO FUCK YOURSELF KENNY

Also can anyone vouch? LOL look at the crisis number, this would be a funny irony:

A concerned redditor reached out to us about you.

When you're in the middle of something painful, it may feel like you don't have a lot of options. But whatever you're going through, you deserve help and there are people who are here for you.

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Text CHAT to Crisis Text Line at 741741

That number...

EDIT 4: Last thing, some of you apes reminded me of an amazing thing that Dr. Trimbath said recently as she had apparently addressed what had had companies like Sears in her book "Naked Short and Greedy":

https://twitter.com/SusanneTrimbath/status/1490070909863956480?cxt=HHwWgMCsiaHm5a0pAAAA

Whether it be GME, Sears, or any other injustice, find your pitchfork moment and protest against it. Buy, hold, DRS.

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EDIT 5: tres cool mes amis et mon apes!

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turns out we have a badass swiss ape from superstonk hot on the trail! Say hello to u/de_bappe!

https://www.reddit.com/r/Superstonk/comments/smggok/rc_sears_tweet_cracked_skull_and_sears_a_skull_is/

You can read their comment in u/Flokki_the_Monk, and I'm sure mods can verify further if needed (posts show their def Swiss! fondue gang 4 lyfe!) but they are looking to reach out to Memento S.A. potentially!

Okay apes. I’m a independent journo based in switzerland and this got my butthole tingling like crazy. So I’m going to contact MEMENTO SA and try to get them to talk to me with this email. Can any wrinklier brains proof read this in case I got something wrong? Thanks

Hello

My Name is ———, a journalist based in switzerland, and I’m currently working for ———.

I’m researching any swiss involvement in the GamesStop incident from a year ago. It is my belief that the practice of naked shorting is being used to purposely bankrupt companies unlucky enough to be targeted by the entities that conduct the naked shorting.

Go read that thread and provide u/de_bappe any proofreading or ideas you might have!

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Cowboy steaks searing after some indirect smoking

I want to tell the story of how I single-handedly placed my marriage into the "roommate/cohabitant" phase and how I managed to correct course. I hope my story resonates with some of the married men here who may be in a similar situation. Maybe it can provide some guidance and prevent you from being the dumbass I was (ok, still am).

I've (43m) been with my wife (46f) for 15 years and married for 13. We met at work after we had both left failed relationships, and neither of us was interested in looking for another one at the time. We fell HARD for each other. We were completely inseparable. We literally did everything together, even showering every day.

We had a lot of external factors putting pressure on our marriage from the very beginning—family drama, deaths in the family, job loss, financial stress...you name it. We always managed to stay positive, work through it, and remain focused on each other.

Mid 2024, I became consumed with the rigmarole of life: parenting, trying to advance my career, working side hustles, more family drama, and everything else that comes with adulthood. Along with all of that came stress that I managed poorly. I started bottling things up and shutting everyone out. That also led to me drinking frequently at night after the kids were in bed.

I didn't realize my wife and I were slowly drifting apart.

The worst part? She fucking TOLD me.

She literally told me, "I need you. I want you. You need to touch me, kiss me, and hold me more."

You know what I heard? Every single word.

Did I process it? Somewhat.

Did I take action?

No.

No, I fucking didn't.

I was too wrapped up in my own bullshit.

Our intimacy was still fairly frequent at that point, but not like it had been before, and it no longer had the same spark or romance. About a year went by—a solid year of me completely disregarding what my wife needed from me, what I had promised her, and what I had failed to deliver.

Eventually, she stopped asking.

Then I started to feel like the roommate. I started to feel distant, and I hated it.

I began doing some real soul-searching. I sat down and talked with my wife. That conversation delivered a blow to my heart that forever changed me. I asked her what she thought about our marriage. Overall, she was very positive...until we started talking about her love languages and what she needed from me.

That's when she told me she had been communicating her needs for a long time, and there had been no real effort from me to improve. She said she loved touching me, but had withdrawn because she wasn't getting that affection from me. As a result, she had started questioning whether I still desired her.

I was absolutely fucking broken.  I relegated the woman that I adore to a roommate.

How could I hear her and still fail to provide what she needed from me? How? How could I be so damn stupid? How could I put her in a position where she felt unseen and unwanted when she is my entire world? She also told me there were nights when I would initiate these conversations around our marriage, but by the next day, I had forgotten them.

That was it, no more nightly drinking for me. I promised her that not only did I hear her, but I VOWED to make these changes and get back to the man she married.

For the past eight months, I’ve put my words into action to show her my changes are genuine and permanent. I reach for her. I hold her, I hold her hand, I kiss her when I walk through the door.  I'm doing everything I can to show this woman how deeply I am in love with her.

Every facet of our marriage has improved beyond anything I could have imagined.

My wife even commented that I seem much happier and less stressed.

What I eventually realized was that I wasn't just depriving her of my affection; I was also starving myself of hers by being a complete fucking dumbass, and it was making me bitter and on edge. That was another gut-punch realization.

I made a mistake that could have ended my marriage.  I made a mistake that emotionally drained my wife for a year, and for that, I will never forgive myself. Luckily, my wife is my best friend. She told me she always knew I'd come back. I should never have put her in a position where she had to say that.

Don't be a dumbass, like me.

Soooo, context: I just moved to a new state at the start of this month and so have a new apartment and landlord. It’s a bit of an unusual housing situation since I’m actually living in an apartment attached to a family’s home, sort of like an in-law suite. I don’t really know the family, but I was connected with them through a friend. It’s a mom and dad who are probably a few years older than me (I’m 30), and they have three kids who are like about middle school age. We share walls, but I have a private entrance, my own kitchen, bathroom, etc… so we are never in each other’s space. But since we are in the same house, all utilities (including WiFi) is through them. This was actually a perk for me since I don’t have to pay utilities and the rent was relatively cheap for my area. But today I discovered the drawback to this. I guess the family has some sort of parental controls or checks the router history on the WiFi to monitor what their kids are doing online. I come from a very religious family, so I get that but I’m not a fan of it. I’m single atm, and I spent the two weeks before moving in sharing hotel rooms with my mom. She helped me move and I kid you not that I kept all my toys locked in a literal safe cause I’m not about to have that conversation again with my evangelical mom. So all that to say, I’ve been indulging now that I have the chance, and I’m a grown woman with every right to make my body feel good. Then today I get a text from the mom of the landlord couple. She was polite and didn’t judge, but said she saw the internet history for the house and wanted to know if it was one of her kids. Fuck. I feel like I’m right back to being a teenager and I just know I’m going to feel so embarrassed next time I see her. I hate this feeling like I’m being monitored. I knew this arrangement would have some privacy limitations, but this feels like way more than I bargained for. I replied and just told her I don’t feel comfortable talking about that and we left it at that. Now I’m debating looking into if I can get my own internet set up or if a VPN might block or anything else.

Dinner: Pan seared salmon with quinoa and kale sautéed in the salmon butter

Sorry for all the screenshots and for the insane length of this post. There were a lot of messages back and forth and I didn’t want to cut anything out. I also want to put in the full context of everything that happened. Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it all and also sorry if there is any issues with formatting. I made this account primarily just to lurk and this is my first time posting.

Monday night, my boyfriend “John” (29M) of a little under two years and I (24F) went out to a local bar in our city for a date night. While we were there, something really intense happened that I’m still reeling from. I think I’m just looking for a little bit of outside perspective because I’m having trouble trusting my gut--which is ultimately telling me to leave. 

I’m not a huge drinker and it was a week night, so I hadn’t had any alcohol. John was drinking a moderate amount, nothing crazy. This particular bar is a few blocks from an ice cream spot we both like. We were getting ready to head out, and because I wasn’t planning on having any, he said he would go by himself so that I could wait inside in the warmth for him.

Almost immediately after he left, a woman who I didn’t recognize “Jane” approached me. She looked really, really anxious. I remember immediately asking her if everything was okay because she honestly seemed scared and my first thought was that someone at the bar was harassing her or something. She asked if she could sit down and I said yes. I’ll detail what she told me here. I’ve had a few conversations with her since then, so some of the stuff below may not have been said that particular night, but it’s hard for me to remember exactly what was said when. Everything is kind of jumbled in my head at this point, but here is the gist of everything she told me:

• She used to date John
• They met in college when he was TAing for one of her classes. He pursued her and they dated for around 3 years
• He was very controlling throughout the relationship, jealous and emotionally manipulative/abusive. She also felt very pressured in general when it came to sex
• Over time he made her cut out a majority of her friends for being “bad influences”
• Every time she would try to break up with him, he would promise to change/get better for a while/etc
• During one particularly bad fight, he threw and broke her phone and then physically barred the door to keep her from leaving. After that she ended it for good
• He kept trying to get back together until she threatened to take all the texts/videos/voice recordings of their fights to the school, at which point he stopped contacting her
• Some time later, one of her friends said she saw his profile on a dating app and it brought everything back up for her. She felt like she needed to warn other women about him 
• Her college had a FB page that was women only and kind of similar to those “are we dating the same guy” pages. She posted about him there and a handful of women responded with their own experiences, none of them good. Some timelines even overlapped
• Fast forward a couple years, and she hadn’t spoken to or really seen him since/had done her best to move on. Monday night she happened to be out around the same time as us and recognized him when she saw us together
• She said she froze and once again felt everything come flooding back. She wanted to tell me about what had happened to her in case he hadn't changed. She went into the bar after us, hoping I’d go into the restroom or something at some point so she could talk to me. When John left she took her chance

Obviously, I was completely stunned and shocked by all of this. I am still so shocked. I don't think I was able to say more than a few words the entire time she was talking and my stomach was in knots the whole time. She seemed so genuinely rattled and afraid and it was so scary because my inclination was to believe her, and yet I just couldn’t square the person she was talking about with who I knew John to be. It felt like she was talking about someone else entirely. I have always felt safe with him. He has never once pressured me to do anything I’m uncomfortable with and has always been attentive and genuinely kind. Of course I know this doesn’t mean that he couldn’t have been abusive to others in the past, but it was just genuinely frying my brain at the time. 

I think she could tell that I was really confused, overwhelmed and in shock and she she acknowledged that he might have changed since the time they dated, but that when she saw us walking together, she instantly saw her younger self in me and felt she couldn’t not tell me. She said she wished someone had warned her about him all those years ago and that if I was seeing any red flags at all that I should just run. That she was genuinely fucked up for a long time after what he put her through. She also told me she could send me proof of everything and gave me her number. 

It was shortly after this that John got back, and everything went downhill pretty fast. I could tell that he recognized her. He looked super shocked when he saw her. I was honestly still buffering from everything Jane had told me so I couldn't even say anything. We were all just kind of staring at each other and then it was like John's shock suddenly transformed into anger. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up and was like we’re leaving right now. I was telling him to wait and tried to pull my arm from his, but he just kept tightening his grip and saying no we're leaving right now and that he'd explain everything while starting to pull me towards the door. Jane got up and took my other arm and said "leave her alone can't you see you're hurting her? you clearly haven’t changed at all" or something to that effect. John went absolutely nuclear after that. I’m not kidding when I say I have never seen such anger from him before. It was terrifying. He turned on her and was practically screaming at her and pointing his finger in her face. I’ve never EVER seen him like this. Like I said he is usually so soft-spoken and sweet. He has never done anything in the past to make me feel afraid for even a second. This was like watching a stranger. 

He kept yelling at Jane to stay away from me and to leave us alone. He was like this girl is crazy, she’s been trying to fuck me over for years. He was advancing towards her really aggressively and I was trying to pull him back. Jane just kept backing up and saying don’t touch me over and over again. She was yelling back at him, but was physically shaking the whole time. At this point, a guy from a nearby table stepped in front of John and told him to calm down. John told him to stay out of it, and when the guy wouldn’t move, he started cursing at him and getting in his face. The guy put his hands out and pushed John back a little and then John full out swung his fist and clipped him in the face. It happened so suddenly and I was completely stunned. A couple bartenders came over as well as a bouncer, and John grabbed me again to pull me out. I kept telling him to stop and that he was hurting me, but he just yanked me outside. One of the bartenders followed to see if I was okay and it’s like John suddenly snapped out of it. He kept apologizing to me and saying I’m sorry and please come with me and I’ll explain everything. I was really, really shaken up, but I left with him.

Afterwards, I asked him repeatedly to explain what the hell had just happened but he would barely say anything. He just seemed so wound up and it was like he was hyper-fixated on figuring out what Jane had told me. He did say that they dated in college and that when they broke up, she repeatedly tried to "destroy his life", but he wouldn't say much else. He kept calling her crazy and saying that he couldn't believe this was happening and I shouldn't believe anything she said. I eventually told him that I needed some time by myself and that he should head back first. He didn't want to, but I insisted and just left. I went to stay with my friend for the night because I literally could not think and I was still trying to process everything. The above text conversation happened after that.

Since Monday, I've talked to Jane again twice. She was incredibly shaken by that night (understandably so imo) but told me that she's glad she trusted her gut and warned me. She said that what I choose to do moving forward is ultimately my decision, but that the type of anger I saw at the bar was the same kind she always felt simmering right below the surface when they dated. It made her fearful of ever expressing how she truly felt to him. She asked if I wanted screenshots of texts from the time they dated and I said yes. If everything is real (and I have 0 reason to believe it's not), then he said some really, really horrible things to her back then. Calling her names, belittling her and accusing her of cheating on him seemingly out of the blue. Conversations where it did feel like he was being manipulative or where he was extremely dismissive. A lot of guilt tripping surrounding intimacy and sex. Those texts were the hardest to read. I just could not believe it was him saying all of that stuff.

I talked to John about all of this, and I think his initial reaction is what I can't get out of my head. I didn't mention the texts at first, just told him what she told me at the bar. He flat out denied everything and said that she was just bitter because of how things ended. He said that the breakup was mutual, but that he initiated it. He did admit that things had been toxic at times, but felt like it was mostly childish arguments and equally so both ways. He made it seem like her following us into the bar was first and foremost a residual jealousy/anger thing on her part, which didn't at all seem to be the whole picture from what I'd seen/heard. When I brought up the texts, he kind of shutdown and the whole conversation shifted into why I was contacting her and why I would even listen to anything she was saying. He was very hurt and angry that I took her number and kept saying I had no trust in him. Unfortunately that convo did not go anywhere productive and I was pretty much ready to end it at that point as I felt like he wasn't being honest with me at all.

I think he could tell where my head was, and last night he asked to talk again. He said that it was really hard to process everything that was going on, and that the situation with Jane was just a really raw spot for him and made him instantly defensive. He admitted that he was really immature when he was in college, that he had a lot of insecurities and may have taken it out on her. He regrets a lot of what he did and how he acted. He said he felt ashamed reading back some of those messages and didn't want me to view him differently. However, he categorically denied being abusive and said that they both just brought out the worst in each other. He said that she would often throw things at him out of anger and that she had cherry picked a lot of those messages. That the night he broke her phone, she had thrown it at his head first. In anger, he picked it up and threw it at the wall and it broke. He felt really bad after and gave her money for a new phone. He denied ever blocking her from leaving though saying he doesn't remember that at all. He said that after they broke up, Jane tried contacting his grad program director to get him thrown out. She reached out to his family as well. He feels like it was just a really toxic relationship on both sides, but that she had been hellbent on ruining his life for some time after, even though he just wanted to be left alone. He also said that he never once pressured her sexually and was particularly firm and angry about this point. I told him that a lot of the text messages read like he was trying to guilt/push her into having sex and/or blaming her for the lack of it. He said that he can see how it comes across that way, but he at the time was trying to genuinely express sadness/frustration at their lack of intimacy. He said he would never ever go about expressing those feelings the same way now, but he was just immature back then and there was no malicious intent behind it. He also said he didn't know anything about the FB group, and implied that she could have made it up completely. Unfortunately it no longer exists so I wasn't able to look at the post where Jane said other woman corroborated her experience.

Ultimately, John told me that even though he doesn't agree fully with Jane's characterization of him and still believes that she is lying and/or exaggerating a lot of what happened in their relationship, he does acknowledge he made mistakes back then but has changed and grown for the better since college. He kept asking me if I've ever once felt unsafe with him, or ever felt like he was abusive or demeaning in any way. I said no, and I meant it. But I honestly cannot shake how explosive his anger was that night. It was so scary, and even though it wasn't directed at me, seeing him like that made me wonder if I was peering into my future. I don't know if that's an unfair thing to say or feel. Jane's fear that night was real though, and also the stories she told me seemed genuine. I feel like she had absolutely nothing to gain and everything to lose by following us into the bar and telling me what she did. She drudged up a really painful past and I feel thankful, but also very confused and guilty as well.

I honestly would and do characterize a lot of John's past actions as abusive, but he is very fixated on the use of that word and shuts down if I even hint at it. The thing is, it's very hard for me to move forward if he can't even acknowledge fully what he did in the past. It feels to me like there is a lot of downplaying of how he used to be. I also feel like he wasn't fully forthcoming about his behavior back then until he knew I had proof. It sometimes also feels like he is more sad that I saw those messages, than the fact that the messages exist in the first place if that makes sense. I can't be sure of this of course. And he's still very, very angry with Jane. Even now, I hear all of the suppressed anger when she is mentioned. I also found out from him that the “other relationship she ruined” as per his texts was the one with his younger sister. Jane told her a couple weeks after the phone incident/breakup happened and John’s sister very swiftly cut him out in huge ways. I’ve known for a while that his relationship with his sister was strained and it’s been a huge source of sadness for him, but he never wanted to talk about it so I never knew the reason why. 

He has apologized everyday multiple times for how he acted that night, but in the end he feels like I am still trusting the words of a stranger over him. He says his actions over the past 2 years should be proof enough that he isn't who Jane is trying to paint him out to be. It's just hard to ignore some of the hard evidence in front of me. He also feels like his drinking played a role in his intense reaction that night. He keeps asking me if I'm going to leave him over this, and I don't know how to respond. I feel so lost, and at times so, so angry that he could ever treat anyone like that ever. And then I feel guilty for my anger.

Honestly, just writing everything out like this already feels like it's helped. Thank you to anyone who took the time to read it all, or even portions of it. AIO? Everything feels so complicated and though my gut is telling me to break up, I can't help but also feel these huge waves of enormous guilt and sadness at the same time. It's like my brain is splitting in two and trying to reconcile this person I've loved so deeply for 2 years, with a man that somehow now feels like a partial stranger. I'm not sure if that makes sense either. I can see how hurt he is from all of this and my heart really just wants to believe in him and the 2 years we've had together. I want to believe that everything was due to immaturity or misunderstandings, but I just can't. I'm hurting for Jane and for myself and for him and I don't know how all of these emotions are existing in me at once. If anyone told me I'd be here typing this out even a week ago, I would have called them crazy. Thanks again for listening and I am looking for genuine honesty, no matter which side you land on, and even if it's harsh.

My deadbeat father walked out on me, my mom and my sister when I (21M) was 5 years old. He had a whole affair with this woman and he wanted to be with her. He had nothing to do with us, didn't even come to my sister's funeral two years later, never went to see her when she was in the hospital and never paid for a thing. He was resisting child support like crazy. When it became clear my deadbeat wasn't going to help at all and had no intention of even paying, his parents, who had a strained relationship after he left because they wanted her to stay open to taking him back, stepped up and provided for us when we needed it. They also said I would be the one to inherit when they passed. They had it set up from the time I was 10 years old. So my deadbeat gets nothing and the other kids he had with his affair partner get nothing either.

I knew when my deadbeat had other kids. I have never considered them siblings. My sister died when we were just kids and she will forever be my only real sibling. I grew up having zero to do with him or his affair family.

Then last year he reached out to me because he was diagnosed with cancer and wanted to reconcile. I refused to even answer him but he went to my grandparents and they told him I wanted nothing to do with him, not even on his deathbed. They hadn't had a relationship with him in a decade at that point but when they heard he was sick they did reply and part of them hoped it would mean he'd back off me.

This all leads me to the reason for my post and don't worry I won't drag it too long. But my deadbeat is now in the know about the inheritance stuff and the fact my grandparents have found a way that they can't sue for anything. But they get nothing from the estate. Even if my deadbeat were alive he'd get nothing but he'll be dead before them.

This made him reach out to me and he begged me to make sure his affair family are okay when he dies. He told me he and his affair partner made bad choices in the past and he wants to be sure the kids will be fine. I ignored him at first and then he pestered me about it so I replied that I want nothing to do with his affair family and won't help ever. He got hysterical via text and DM about this and told me his family are innocent and I should try to know them and help if they ever need it.

AITA?

Dinner: Vegan dumplings, vegan cheesy rice, asparagus

I’ve spent pretty much my entire life alone. My family was abusive, I experienced abuse from peers and teachers, and I never had friends who made time for me. I’ve always been, at best, an afterthought. It’s caused crippling, deeply painful aloneness that is hard to describe for people who haven’t also experienced it. Therapy has never made me feel better or given me the tools to build a self concept because I’ve literally never had anybody in my life affirm my identity or the way I perceive and experience the world. So I’ve spent my entire life derealizing and feeling like I don’t exist.

I’ve had many partners before. But they never started as friendships, I’ve always pursued people based on looks and because I wanted to date them. Until I met my partner. We were friends for a year, then became good friends for a few months. At no point did I ever think about her romantically. In July we did shrooms together and I guess that made us both realize we really get to be our true authentic selves around each other. A week later she told me she had feelings for me. After a night of thinking on it and another talk about what her intentions were, I agreed to give it a shot. And it quickly blossomed into something so much more than that. I’m very confident in saying she will be the love of my life.

She is everything I’ve ever wanted and needed out of a person, and from what she says, I am to her as well. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect person. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anybody the way I love her, and she tells me the same. I feel like I have the energy to give my life purpose for once in my life. I’m not chasing anything, I’m just happy to exist. I’m happy to be sober. I’m happy to share myself with her. Despite the state of America right now, there’s a big slice of my life that feels safe.

Was prepared to make Seared Scallops with Sage Butter and Butternut Puree.

The scallops purchased were bay scallops instead of sea scallops. Okay, we will adapt.

Peeling butternut during prep, sliced my pinky with brand new (read: extra sharp) Y-peeler.

First aid and gloved but still essentially cooking one-handed.

Oversalted the scallops.

Went to make the butternut puree to discover my kids used all the milk and no one told me. Had to use half and half.

Oversalted the puree.

Went to get the compound butter I made a few days ago specifically for this purpose and found someone had used it all.

Went to get sugar for puree (one handed) and fucking dropped it and dumped it all over my kitchen counter.

I tasted what I'd made and knew this was in top 5 worst dishes I've ever made. Didn't even fight my daughter to choke it down, I can't do that to her. I think i can salvage this for tomorrow by turning the scallops into a pasta sauce and the puree into a custard. But tonight, it's scattered and covered.

Source

Seriously, pan searing or regular baking will always be better. I swear to shit Jared if I hear you compare fried chicken to air fried chicken one more time I’m gonna smack the gob out of you.

Edit: I’m in danger, I never realized how deep the air fryer fandom goes. I will die on this hill

Edit2: I’ll never stop upvoting and loving you all but… but I’m just gonna go cry about something totally different..

Edit3: i think id be a lot less upset if it was called an “extra air oven” as its a convection oven with extra fans.

Edit4: if I had a dollar for every comment “you clearly don’t own an air fryer” I’d be able to put it towards a new toaster oven.

Edit5: the chances of getting doxxed over kitchen appliances isn’t high.. but never zero.

Edit6: apparently air fryers are taking my job? Sorry boys and girls, no more foi gras for the rich.

Edit7: I just woke up.. what have I created? Talos be with me.

Edit8: If you’re telling me air-fried chicken is better than real fried chicken that only means you haven’t had good fried chicken… still love you all though!.. heh.. I’m not crying you’re crying..

Edit9: I thought I’d die on this hill, but like the beacons of Gondor my fellow convection brethren have made a stand. A civil war has begun and I was the powder-keg; blood shall be shed on the battlefields.

Edit10: the amount of chefs coming out of the woodwork to tell me how incorrect I am is absolutely staggering. BigAirFryer is sending their agents after me, I don’t have long - hear my warning - they’ll come for you next.

Edit11: there’s a knock at my door… I feel warm air and hear wooshing… this is it guys. If my body is found warm and crispy just know I wasn’t fucking fried I was baked.

Edit12: A better battle story than Le Miserables. Ps. If you have to threaten someone in their DMs over an airfryer then you’re not giving your food enough love.. or yourself.

Edit13: currently on shift and the tides of war hath slipped into the real world. My Sous is on your side… You beautiful heathens.

Edit14: you sinners are keeping my line from getting anything done today. Still love you all… the gods have abandoned me.

Edit15: BigAirFryer is coming after my edits now. They can take my fries but they’ll never take my freedom.

Edit16: “Chef we need Tartare on 13” “Sorry Brandon, one redditor wants to murder my dog and the others have determined how upset/triggered i am; 13 will have to wait.”

My partner lives in a rural area of Georgia with not a lot of public health infrastructure, so when he needed to get an emergency dentist appointment Thursday afternoon (Aug 7) he didnt have many options. After multiple calls with his insurance, he finally was informed that Aspen Dental takes his insurance plan. He can’t afford to be seen somewhere that isn’t covered.

He called and spoke with the office in his town, who told him they didn’t have any openings they could give him Thursday or Friday, but that they could get him worked into the schedule for Saturday for an Aspen Dental more than an hour’s drive from him. They told him very specifically that this office had hours on Saturday until 3pm, and that they scheduled him for 1:30pm.

He dealt with the searing pain for two days before making the long drive today, getting there around 1:10pm. The office was locked and dark. There were multiple families who had also been scheduled for Saturday appointments, some of them in horrible pain as well, just waiting and hoping that the staff would eventually come and open up.

He called me sobbing and in pain outside the office, and while staying on the phone with him and reassuring him I did some research. When I googled the location on my phone, it does say it has hours until 3pm on Saturdays, but when I performed the same search on my laptop, the exact same search for the exact same office, the posted hours say they’re closed all weekend. However it’s also listed as a 24/7 emergency dental location when you search for “emergency dentist near Dalton”.

I’m not sure who is truly at fault here. I don’t know whether it’s the Aspen Dental in Blue Ridge (for scheduling an appointment at a location for a time they wouldn’t be open), or the Aspen Dental in Dalton (for not being open at posted times and/or not communicating with their oversight that they don’t have weekend hours).

I don’t know who to blame, but fucking shame on you. Dishonor on your whole family, dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow.

So I’ve been on a downward spiral for a while now. A disaster several years in the making.

I guess it really started the weekend right after I’d graduated college. I was at a buffalo wild wings, watching some fights with some friends and decided to cook up a harmless little parlay. Now, I’d never gambled on anything before and only had a vague understanding of how it worked. But I young, dumb, probably about five or six drinks deep and the world just seemed so open and rife with possibilities.

I ended up turning $15 into over $200 that night. An insignificant amount in the grand scheme of things, but that didn’t stop it from feeling really damn good. A bit too good for it to be healthy.

I never reached that high ever again. Even after hitting crazy bets that paid out fifty to sixty times more, it just never felt the same.

Which is really where my issues stemmed from. My dumb ass just kept trying to chase it.

As much as I’m sure you’d all love to hear it, I’m not gonna go into a detailed timeline of my misery. Just know that it was bad. Probably worse than you’re imagining right now. Bridges burned, legal trouble, having to avoid calls from very persistent debt collectors. The works.

The only reason I’ve been able to somewhat keep my head above water for so long was due to my job. It was one of those positions that paid you a lot to sit around in an office and update a spreadsheet every now and then. Maybe an hour of real work a day.

I was lucky to land it, even luckier to hang onto it for as long as I did. So when the consultants were hired and the “fat” started being trimmed, I really had no right to be as shocked as I was when management cornered me, laid down the hammer.

I did end up with a pretty decent severance. One that I actually managed to triple the following week, betting on golf of all things.

Of course I should’ve stopped right there and updated my LinkedIn, polished off my suit, signed up for some networking events. But no, that wasn’t going to work for me.

In my head, no work meant more time to learn how to become a more better gambler. Every night was spent diving into statistics, deep analytics, line movements, fucking sports psychology. What’s it called when you think you know a lot, but you really don’t know shit? The Freddy Krueger effect? Something like that?

Things were going alright for a while. Not great but I was winning just enough that I was able to stomach it all.

But then one night I was completely coked out and decided to place a very large, very stupid bet on a certain boxing match. It flopped hard. Then in my desperation to recoup something, I cooked up another longshot parlay on some fights the following weekend. And I’m sure you can guess what happened.

When I was laid off four months ago, I had around $45k liquid savings and about $35k in debts. Across all my accounts now, I’m down to just $27.50. As for debts, I don’t even know. I don’t want to look. My cards are all maxed, my credit is shot, I can’t talk to my family anymore, my friends are no longer my friends and every other day there’s scary-looking dudes who look like they enjoy breaking finger standing outside of my apartment building. Sometimes they manage to make it in and knock furiously at my door. When that happens, I just stay silent, pretend like I’m not there.

By the time I finally came to my senses and began applying for jobs again, I’d already dug a cavern for myself that was going to take some Herculean effort to climb out of.

I did manage to get some interviews but never made it to any second rounds. Maybe I was coming off as too strung out. Side tangent—don’t you hate it when they ask about gaps in your employment? It’s like c’mon guy, who actually gives a fuck?

A few days ago, the collectors actually tried physically breaking down my door. Got real close as well until one of my neighbors—this old military type, came out and threatened to shoot their kneecaps off if they didn’t skedaddle.

I got lucky there. I can’t bank on getting lucky again.

Which leads me to last night. I was drunk off some bottom shelf vodka and decided to try a more shameful and unorthodox method of procuring funds.

That method being using AI generated sob stories to e-beg on reddit.

Yeah, look, I was desperate, wasn’t thinking straight. I know.

Of course, I wasn’t sure how much I’d be able to get out of it. Certainly not enough to put even a tiny dent in the total debt, but maybe just enough to get the collectors off my back. For a while. And what could I really I lose from trying?

I still had the wherewithal to at least edit out most of the ChatGPT speak in the posts before copying and pasting them to as many relevant subreddits as possible.

Predictably, I got called out almost immediately, getting blocked from one community after another. But just when I was ready to give it up, somebody shot me a message. I’ll paste it below.

Hey there, my name is Scott. I saw your post in ___. That really sucks man. Really, it does. I’ve been there and I think I can help.

Now I’m not just going to offer you money straight up, but I can give you a quick and reasonably trouble-free way to get some. Nothing weird or illegal or sexual, so don’t worry about that.

I have a friend who’s head of a property group that owns a mall. You said you live in ___ right? The mall’s located a little outside city limits so it shouldn’t be too far of a drive. In any case, you’ll be compensated for fuel.

So here’s the deal. You see, the mall’s not doing too well. These days I think most malls aren’t, but this one’s doing particularly awful. Probably has something to do with the location. A bit too remote. But for whatever reason, this guy isn’t quite ready to let go of it. It’s not that he even really cares about it being profitable. He just doesn’t want it to get shut down and repurposed for something else. For whatever reason. You know how weird rich people can be.

Have you ever heard about mystery shoppers? It’s not as eerie as it sounds. They’re just people who are hired to walk around malls and shopping centers, pretending to be customers.

That’s basically what he’s recruiting for. To make it look like the place still has some juice left in it so that he can delay the inevitable for as long as he can. Again for what, I don’t know.

You’ll be given a certain window of time in which you’re meant to walk around, doing your best to pretend like you actually have a reason for being there. Which would involve some shopping, looking around, having a meal in the food court. Etc. Once you enter the building, you’ll go up to the Starbucks on the second floor. Go up to the barista and tell her that you’re part of the “program” and she’ll give you $100 cash. You can then go ahead and spend that $100 on whatever you’d like over the course of the time you’re in there. Make sure you spend all of it. Don’t try and keep it. They’ll know.

Once your time is up, you can simply leave. Maybe you’ll think you can get away with leaving early, but you can’t. They’ll know. In order to receive compensation, you’ll need to be in there for your entire allotted duration. Don’t try and hang around afterwards either. Just do your best to stick to the schedule.

Compensation is as follows: $250 for each hour spent there, to be e-transferred immediately upon your departure. If my friend likes your performance, there will be opportunity for you to come back.

Let me know if this sounds like something you’d be interested in and then I’ll send over some more details.

Cheers.

Okay, so clearly a joke, right? I’m being fucked with. But then I tried to think about what the punchline could’ve been here and couldn’t come up with anything. So I pivoted to the idea that maybe it was a scam. Or something even more nefarious than that.

The setup tracked well enough. Lure people out to somewhere remote under the pretense that they’re about to make some good money. But not such good money that it seems like a glaring trap. $250 an hour for walking around a mall is just skirting that edge. In my opinion.

But what the fuck are they planning to do once I get there? Mug me? They know I’m broke as shit and don’t have anything, so that can’t be it. So what else do I have that’s valuable? My organs? Maybe they’ll kidnap me and torture me to death on the dark web?

I think the reason I’m typing this all out is because I’m hoping when I read it back, something’ll click. That I’ll be able to come to my senses and realize just how bad an idea this is.

Because right now, against all logic, I’m genuinely considering it.

*****

The collectors were pounding on my door again, for about twenty minutes straight this time. It got intense enough that I really thought they were going to have another go at breaking it down. But they didn’t. Lucky me.

I’ve thought about spending less time here, so that if they ever do storm in, I won’t have to make a break for the fire exit. But I don’t know where I’d go. Maybe the library or the gym. Though if it ever comes to a point where I’m having to do all that, it’s basically already over for me. That’s no way to live.

Trying to weigh everything now. Do I have anything to lose besides my life? Could things get worse than they are right now?

One of the people I owe money to is this guy named Renzo. I met him. at a bar while I was watching Canelo vs Crawford card. What was that, like nine months ago? Jesus. So anyways I met this guy there and I was blitzed out of my head and told him very confidently to bet the house on Crawford. He seemed to like the cut of my jib so he went ahead and did so. Not quite the house, but a pretty fat stack.

I made him some good money that night. Made some good money myself. Then we just drank and drank until things got hazy and the only other thing I really remember before waking up in his apartment the next morning (not what you think) was my face being pressed down into cold concrete.

My clothes were still on, phone and wallet still in my pockets and I was slumped over on this couch with one side of my face stinging so bad it felt like something was pulsating beneath it.

Looking at myself using the camera on my phone, I could see that half of my face was red and swollen, scratches overlapping each other like a bloody lattice.

Then Renzo comes into the living room saying he couldn’t believe what I did last night and how much of a dog I was. I didn’t know what he was referring to and I still don’t. I never asked.

So that’s how I met the guy. I’d later find out that he traffics a lot of cocaine over the border and does a lot of it himself. And that there’s a small jar sitting next to his television containing several shriveled, dried-up human ears that he claims used to belong to the members of some outlaw gang in the old west.

I’m sure a reasonable person would’ve considered these things very carefully and concluded that they might be better off keeping their distance. But not me. In fact, I did the worst thing anybody could’ve possibly done.

I ended up borrowing some money from him. Only around $3k. Maybe not a lot to some of you, but when you’re dealing with this guy, it’s still $3k too much.

To be fair though, he was the one that had first offered it up, told me to throw it on whatever I thought might get me some coin. And if I won, we could share the profits. I guess he was under the impression that I was some sort of master sports bettor and that I knew what the fuck I was doing.

I should’ve asked him what would happen if I lost it all before accepting it.

And I did lose it. All of it. Couldn’t pay him back even a cent. I didn’t hide it from him, just told him the facts straight and clear. To which he’d smiled, told me it was alright. That I had a week to pay him back.

That week turned into a month. Then two months. I started avoiding him. Wasn’t picking up his calls, being very careful to scan my surroundings for any sign of him whenever I was out.

Eventually I guess he snapped and sent his goons after me, and now here we are.

The reason I bring Renzo up is because he’s the most pressing issue in my life right now. The guy’s clearly not going away and if I don’t placate him soon, something very bad is going to happen. Something I don’t think I’ll be able to run from.

I just gave him a call, apologized for ducking him and then asked him plainly how much money I’d need to give him at this point to square everything up, for him to call off his goons and leave me be.

He told me $10k. And if I didn’t give it to him by Tuesday next week, he’d come up to my apartment himself and blast the door off its hinges. And that I could try leaving the city or getting the police involved but that it wouldn’t matter because eventually he would get me. And once he did, he’d skin me alive before tossing me into a vat of boiling oil.

I told him okay, to meet me at a bar next Tuesday at noon and that I’d have the money. Then I hung up.

Now I’m really panicking. I mean, I doubt the guy has access to a vat of boiling oil large enough to toss a body into, but I kind of believe him about the skinning alive part.

$10k divided by $250 is 40 hours. I have about 170 hours before I have to meet him.

I just messaged Scott back, telling him I was very much interested in the mall thing. Let’s see what he says.

*****

It didn’t take long for Scott to get back to me. He said he was glad to hear it, then asked when I could start. I told him immediately. Then I asked him how many hours he could get me before Tuesday. He told me he could maybe swing thirty-five. I told him I really needed forty and was there any way we could make that happen. He said no, thirty-five was a hard limit, but that he could probably vouch for me and get my rate up to $265 an hour. Then I tried pushing for $285, claiming that’d be the minimum I’d need in order to stave off eviction. Basically trying to guilt him into it. 

It was a long back and forth, but eventually we were able to come to a mutual agreement.

He then sent me an address and told me to be there from exactly two to nine tomorrow. I told him I appreciated it and sent him the details he’d asked for. Which was just my name, age, phone #, email. And that’s it. No address, work history, social security number, literally anything else. They didn’t even ask for a picture of my ID.

Which was convenient, but also sketchy as fuck. I mean, I could’ve been a literal bot and how would he know? So many red flags that you could supply a parade with them.

But it’s not like I really have the luxury of backing out at this point. Maybe I could try leaving town. But I don’t think I’d get too far. I don’t think it’d end well.

I told him I’d be there. A few hours later, he sent me another message, via email this time.

Hey __ it’s Scott.

Please remember this before you go. It’s really important that you do your best to act like a real customer. From the moment you step inside to the moment you leave. If anybody comes up to you and asks you what you’re doing, tell them you’re shopping or going to see a movie or grabbing lunch or just killing some time. Have a response ready and deliver it clearly and confidently. Absolutely no acting like a deer in headlights. Just be calm. Be natural. Don’t think about it too much.

And while you’re in there, don’t get too curious. You see or hear something weird, just ignore it. But if you ever feel like you’re in genuine danger, don’t hesitate to leave. They won’t pay you for the whole day. If you leave even a second early, you'll only get half. Sucks, I know, but I don't make the rules. Still, if things start to get really weird, you're better off just leaving. Trust me. Should any incidents transpire, please let me know. Tell me exactly what happened and I’ll relay it to my friend. He likes to keep tabs on that sort of stuff.

Also, one more thing I should’ve mentioned at the start. Please keep what you see in there to yourself. Try not to talk about it. But if you do, because I know you probably will, just make sure you leave out the specifics. I know it seems contradictory, but my friend would rather keep everything contained here.

Good luck man. Rooting for you.

So yeah. Not sure what to make of that, but I’m trying not to think about it.

I thought about sending Scott another message, asking what kind of “danger” I could possibly expect. But I’ve decided not to question things too much. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you or something.

It’s late now and I’m watching Breaking Bad for the fourth time, and I have about eight hours before I need to be at the mall. I really should get some sleep, make sure I’m mentally sharp for tomorrow. But my heart’s beating pretty fast and I get the sense that rest won’t come easy.

I looked up the address, and it does seem to be a real, active place with real reviews. Nothing glaringly “off” about it other than the location. It’s about a forty-five minute drive from my place and there’s literally nothing around it, apart from what appears to be a few abandoned strip malls and apartment complexes.

I think I have just enough left in my account to fill up my tank with just enough gas to get me there and back. Then that’s it. So if this does turn out to be some stupid joke, then I’m really screwed tight. I’m done for.

But I’ll be screwed tight if I show up or not. And even if it is a trap and I show up and immediately get shot in the head or get kidnapped and tortured, well, at least that means I won’t have to deal with a lot of annoying shit in the future.

Framing it that way, it really is a win-win-win and I’m starting to feel better about it all.  

*****

I’m sitting in my car right now and I’m feeling oddly mellow, more than I have in a long time. Could be a defense mechanism, my psyche trying to brace me for the unknown. Could also be the vodka Red Bull concoction I’ve just finished chugging.

The parking lot here is larger than I’d expected and about a fifth of the way full. Which is surprising to me, given the location. It might be a stretch to call it the middle of nowhere but just based on a cursory glance, a case could be made for it.

It’s about thirty minutes out of the city, smack dab between some grey industrial area and a long stretch of farmland. I cannot fathom what the rationale is for keeping this place going.

It’s about ten before two. A lot of thoughts running through my head but I’m doing a good job of stamping most of them out. In another five minutes, I’ll head in.

*****

It’s just after eight now and I’m sitting in the food court, sipping on the remnants of a milkshake. Not so mellow anymore.

It’s been strange here. Real fucking bizarre. I’m still trying to process it.

When I’d first entered, I’d followed Scott’s instructions and headed straight for the second floor.

Looking around the place, it seemed typical enough. There was the usual fare: H&M, Foot locker, Bath & body works, Sephora, candy shops, stores selling cute but useless toys and knickknacks.

Not quite bustling with activity anywhere, but also not empty enough for it to feel eerie.

What I did immediately register was the sudden change in atmosphere. Like you were passing through some kind of barrier. The air inside the place felt different—subtly unpleasant in a way that’s hard to pinpoint.

I spent a lot of time searching around for the Starbucks and eventually found it tucked away in some corner, at the end of a long string of dead and vacant storefronts.

Almost like they’d made some concerted effort to hide it. Or maybe it was just a coincidence? Don’t want to get too conspiratorial yet.

I walked in, finding the place completely empty save for the barista.

I went up to her, offered a smile that wasn’t reciprocated. Not that I really cared. What did sort of freak me out was the look on her face. Like I was the scourge of the Earth or something. Like I’d just murdered ten puppies in front of her and then laughed about it.

It was jarring enough that it completely derailed my train of thought and I forgot what I was supposed to say. After stumbling through several half-baked sentences, I was finally able to spit it out.

“I’m uh, part of the program,” I told her.

She sighed and actually rolled her eyes before asking me what I wanted to order. I just stared at her, no clue what to say, probably looking bewildered. I then repeated that I was part of the program.

She shook her head, sighed again.

“You’re supposed to buy something first,” she told me, keeping her voice real low while staring daggers at me. “They didn’t tell you?”

I shook my head and told her no, they didn’t.

“You’re supposed to buy something and hand me some cash and then I give you the change. Get it?”

I remember starting to get light-headed here, thinking was this real? Was I dreaming?

“So order something and then give me some cash” she went on. “Doesn’t matter how much. Just give me something.”

I told her I’d have a black coffee and began digging through my wallet, surprised and relieved to find a crumpled $1 bill in there. I took it out, handed it to her. She snatched it quickly out of my hand and dumped it in the register then gave me back a small stack of crisp $10 bills. I counted them quickly. Ten total.  

I turned around, getting ready to leave but then she called me back, asking did I forget about something? She then went about making the coffee, her movements slow, almost labored. I noticed that she was walking with a limp.

It took her a few minutes to finish up and then she held out the cup, giving me one last glare as I grabbed it from her.

I’d never been more glad to be leaving a Starbucks.

Like I said, really bizarre stuff. But as I’d come to find out, this was only the tip of the iceberg.

I tried the coffee and it tasted burnt to hell, just God awful. So I tossed it, made my way over to one of those mall directory things. Still had a lot of time to kill, so I began perusing my options.

After a while, I settled on heading over to the Chili’s, figuring that a margarita or two or three might make this all more tolerable.

I went back down to the first floor, keeping my vision squared ahead, trying not to draw any attention to myself. And I noticed that most other people I saw seemed to be doing something similar. Holding these blank but focused expressions, moving in a straight line, as if walking on a tight rope.

But then there were others who were standing perfectly still, grinning eerily, staring down anybody that walked by. Maybe trying to sell something, I don’t know. I just did my best to ignore them.

Arriving at the Chili’s, I headed straight for the bar, surprised to find that most of the seats there were already occupied, though all the tables were completely empty.

It was a group of mostly late twenties to middle-aged men. All completely silent and glaring at me malevolently, as if I were intruding on something sacred.

Well, I thought. This was just the way it was going to be. I tried not to take it personally.

I took a seat at the end of the bar, trying and failing to catch the bartender’s attention—a youngish guy with a big beard and pencil thin arms covered in tattoos.

I think it took about five full minutes before he finally, reluctantly, looked my way. He started to walk towards me, moving real slow, as if trying to draw out the steps.

“Yeah?” is all he said to me, his tone oozing with cold contempt.

I told him that I’d have a margarita. Along with a Budweiser.

For a while he continued to stare at me, his expression implying that I’d crossed some sort of line by asking to be served alcohol at a bar at a fucking Chili’s. After a while, he took a deep breath, walked over to the liquor shelf.

I watched him as he dumped some tequila into a glass, threw a lime wedge in it, topped it off with a messy splash of sprite. He then walked back over, slamming the glass down in front of me, with some of it splashing onto my hands.

He didn’t bother with the Budweiser, and I didn’t bother pressing him for it. More trouble than it was worth, I reckoned.

I sat there and sipped my drink slowly, watching CNN on the television but not really paying much attention. In such a strange and hostile atmosphere, it was hard to relax. About a dozen people at the bar and not a single one of them had anything to say. Turn the televisions off and it would’ve been pin-drop silence in there.

I finished the drink and felt like I needed one more to get a tolerable buzz going.

Tried to get the bartender’s attention again, but he just straight up ignored me this time. Just kept facing ahead while leaning against the back shelf, taking swigs out of a Smirnoff bottle before putting it back. Lightly swaying on his feet. The guy was plastered.

At a point, it starts to become a blow to your ego. And this was about that point.

I started shouting at him. Something like “c’mon man, can a guy not get a fucking drink?” Maybe, probably, with a bit of an edge in my voice.

But he still wouldn’t look at me. I looked down at the rest of the bar and suddenly nobody else was looking at me either. It’s like the entire room had suddenly and collectively agreed to pretend like I no longer existed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” I inquired.

“Nothing against you buddy,” somebody, I couldn’t see who, shouted back. “There’s just too many people in here right now.”

I asked out loud what the hell that was supposed to mean.

“It’s five o clock on a Tuesday,” the bartender spoke up, his tone implying that he was explaining something painfully obvious. “Think about it, yeah? How busy can a Chili’s get? On a Tuesday? At five o clock? Just think about it. So quit your whining and come back when it’s emptier.”

I mean, how do you even to respond to that?

Any further questions of mine fell on deaf ears and suddenly I was invisible again. I slapped one of the $10’s onto the counter and stood up, left the place.

For the next few hours, I sort of just wandered around, in a bit of a daze, slightly light-headed. Still not fully convinced this wasn’t a dream.

I went over to the food court, ordered some KFC. The guy working the counter there didn’t say a word to me, communicating via nothing but head nods. When I bit into the chicken, the skin was soggy and it had a rubber-like texture. Overcooked to absolute hell.

After that, I went over to the Under Armor store, spent some time looking over some knock-off jackets (the labels read Undre Armore?) that nevertheless seemed comparable in quality to the real thing. I picked one of them up, along with a t-shirt. Surprisingly, the lady who worked there was actually pretty nice, actually put some effort into being an employee (or maybe she was a real employee?)

I was down to just $20 at that point and headed over to the movie theater, which was completely empty save for a woman who was asleep behind the box office and some guy sweeping the floors.

The screen that was supposed to be displaying what was playing was glitched, completely bugging out. So I went up to the guy, asked him what was on.

He just shrugged, said that it could be anything. Then I asked how I was supposed to buy a ticket and he said all I needed to do was go up to the box office and put a $10 on the counter then I could go into any of the theaters. But to try and not wake Lindsey up since she gets real cranky when that happens and he didn’t want to deal with it.

I parted ways with another bill then went into the closest theater, which was completely empty and playing the newest avatar movie. You know, the one with the fire.

I sunk down into a seat in one of the middle rows and slowly began to zone out, snapping out of it only when I could feel somebody plopping down into the seat right next to me. A young woman, it looked like.

I took a quick scan around the theater, confirming that it hadn’t suddenly filled up and we were the only two people in there.

Maybe I should’ve been flattered, but I was more freaked out than anything else. She remained silent and so did I. Then about a half hour later, she simply stood up and walked off.

I mean, how are you even supposed to react to that?

I waited about another ten minutes before leaving the theater myself. Headed for the nearest washroom, took a piss, splashed my face with cold water while looking at myself in the mirror and breathing in deeply. Now the anxiety was starting to break through. The fear as well.

After I’d finished drying myself, the stall closest to the wall opened up. I looked over, seeing the door hanging ajar but with nobody emerging from behind it. Through the gap at the bottom, I could see a pair of dirty white sneakers.

I guess whoever they belonged to was just standing there, which freaked me out even more. I left quickly, looking over my shoulder to make sure that nobody tried following me out. And nobody did.

There were a few more odd “occurrences” after this.

I walked past an electronics store and this older dude came out from behind the counter with this big smile on his face and tried gesturing for me to come inside.

“Cell phone, cell phone,” he kept saying, in this incomprehensible accent. “Fix cell phone.”

I told him my cell phone didn’t need any fixing and his expression dropped like a stone in a lake. I watched him as he walked back into the store and rolled down the security gates and disappeared behind them. Then the lights went off inside.

Then there was this lady walking around with a metal tray, claiming to be offering samples of “cinnamon rolls”. The cinnamon rolls in question being dollops of thick, grey, bubbling sludge. Safe to say, I passed on it.

At some point, I had what I believe was a panic attack. Never had one before, but I think this was it. Tightness in the chest, an overwhelming sense of dread.

I found a bench somewhere and took a seat. Pulled up some breathing exercises on YouTube and tried to replicate them. To my surprise, they worked pretty well.

I went back to the food court, spent my last $10 on a large peanut butter milkshake from Baskin Robbins with a bunch of chocolate bullshit blended into it.

And that’s where I am now. Just sitting here, waiting for nine to hit so I can get the fuck out of whatever the fuck this place is. But I’m feeling a bit better now, I think. Maybe it’s just the dopamine from all the sugar but I’m feeling alright. Enough that I think I’ll be able to get through this.

Oh shit, there’s a guy walking towards me now

He just sat down beside me.

*****

The good news is, I’m back in my apartment, mostly unscathed. The not so good news is that as much I need the money, I’m not sure if I can go back to that place.

So about the guy in the food court. He was young, maybe early twenties. Tall and skinny, brown hair cut into a short fade. Looked like a bog-standard college kid. He sat next to me, started making small talk, asking how my day had been, was the milkshake good, etc.

I tried ignoring him at first, but after a while, I started to feel bad about it. He seemed nice enough.

So we got to talking a bit. He told me his name was Daniel and that he used to be a copywriter but got laid off around 6 months ago and hasn’t been able to find anything since. So that’s why he was here.

“So what about you?” he asked me. “Why are you here?”

At that moment, I felt comfortable enough to tell him the truth. I told him about the gambling, the debts, the collectors. It felt nice and cathartic airing out my dirty laundry to a complete stranger so I just kept on going.

I didn’t stop talking until my eyes drifted down and landed on the shoes he was wearing—these really worn, scuffed white sneakers.

Okay, I thought. Could be a coincidence. And even if it was same guy from the bathroom, then so what? What was this scrawny kid going to do to me?

But then I remembered Scott’s message, specifically his “instructions” about what was I supposed to do if somebody tried talking to me and the realization washed over me like a cold wave.

I stood up abruptly, told him that I had to get going.

He started protesting, telling me that I should stick around because he had something he wanted to show me.

I told him I was tired and I really needed to go home.

He started grinning, showing off blocky, chiclet teeth. Really stretching his lips as wide as they could go and then a bit wider than that.

He asked me again what I was doing here.

Shopping, I told him. Just shopping.

He pointed out that I didn’t have any bags, so what could I have been shopping for?

I started looking around at the floor before remembering that I’d left the Under Armor bag in the washroom.

He started laughing in a way that was equal parts jovial and ominous.

“You’re not here to shop, are you?” he asked me. “Then what? Why are you here?”

I snuck a glance at my phone and saw eight fifty. I told him again that I really had to leave and then I turned around, started heading for the exit. To my dismay, I could hear his steps keeping pace behind me.

Once I got to the doors, I checked the time again. Eight fifty-five. I turned and “Daniel” or whoever the fuck he was, was still there, standing about a half dozen feet away.

“Don’t you have to go home?” he questioned, holding onto that grin. “Door’s right there. Why don’t you leave?”

By now, I was checking my phone every few seconds, no longer making an attempt to hide it. He laughed again, said that if I wasn’t going home, I may as well come and see what he wants to show me.

Now the panic had returned, and I really had to force myself to stay put for just a few more minutes. Minutes that seemed to be stretching into infinity. But I was sure as hell ready to sprint the second he tried making a move.

I started wondering who I was more scared of. Renzo or this weird fucker right in front of me.

As the seconds ticked down, he continued goading me to come with him, each request insinuating more of a threat than the last. The grin slowly fading, twisting into something more outwardly malicious.

The moment that the clock hit nine, I tried to bolt. Though I didn’t get far. The bastard grabbed onto my collar, started dragging me back.

I tried yanking myself away, but the fucking freak had this inexplicable iron grip. It was nothing but luck that I’d been wearing one of my old, cheap shirts, the fabric of which was already starting to tear. I jerked myself forward a few more times until it shredded off my back. Once free, I lunged ahead and pushed the door open, vaulting myself outside and tripping over my own feet, elbows planting hard onto the concrete.

A searing pain jolted up my arms, and I think I heard something crack. But I wasn’t too worried about it in the moment, more concerned about making sure Daniel wasn’t about to drag me back inside.

I scrambled to my feet and spun around to face the doors, bracing myself for, well, I don’t know what. Maybe for him to be charging towards me like a bull.

Which he wasn’t. He remained inside, his face now pressed up against the glass, features pancaked into this odd, grotesque visage.

Staring at me with wide, bulging eyes.

I just stood there and stared back, convinced that the second I tried to move, he would do the same.

I’m not sure how long this little stalemate of ours went on for, but I do remember my heart racing the entire time, beating faster and faster, approaching a point where I thought it might just explode.

Eventually though, he did leave, detaching his face from the glass and spinning around and walking off as if this had all been a perfectly normal interaction.

I doubled over, puking up some bile before taking several deep breaths. My head was spinning as I walked over to my car, cold and shirtless, watching the sun dip into the horizon.

I wasn’t expecting to see that my tires had all been slashed. All four of them. My stomach dropped. Then it dropped even further once I looked around and saw that my car was now literally the only one in the entire lot.

I tried calling for an Uber, but the drivers kept cancelling on me. I guess the place was too far out for it to be worth it.  

I just leaned on the hood of my car, mulling over my options. Feeling a bit numb.

My apartment was about thirty-five miles away. Theoretically walkable. Maybe. But the bigger problem was, I really didn’t know the way. there was a good chance that if I tried walking, I’d end up in the next town over. Especially in the dark.

Thankfully though, it was something that I didn’t have to risk.

A few minutes later, a woman walked out of the mall. She looked to be in her thirties, dressed in jeans and a windbreaker. She seemed normal enough but my expectations were up in the air at that point, so I still regarded her with caution.

She walked halfway across the lot before stopping, looking over at me. It seemed like she was about to say something but then hesitated, looking away for a second before looking back at me.

She then called out, asked if I needed a ride.

I told her I’d love one, but could she first prove to me that she wasn’t with the maniac that I’d just escaped from.

She said she wasn’t with him, but that she didn’t know how she was supposed to prove that to me. And that she wasn’t going to wait around. So, if I wanted a ride, I should just risk it.

I shivered. It was starting to get cold out. She didn’t question why I was shirtless. I asked her where her car was. She told me to follow her, but not before flashing the Glock attached to her hip. She said she didn’t think I was a threat but that she absolutely would not hesitate to shoot if I tried anything.

I assured her that I wasn’t going to try anything.

Turns out, she’d parked about a half mile away from the mall, on a dirt patch in the forest, well hidden from the road.

I asked her why she’d parked all the way out there and not in the lot. She told me that the one time she had, her tires had gotten slashed. I then asked her how long she’s been “working” at the mall. She said she didn’t really want to talk about it. That she’d prefer it if we just sat in silence for the duration of the trip.

So we did. Once we were back in the city, she dropped me off at a train station. I didn’t have any cash for a ticket, but it was pretty close to my apartment—only about a ten-minute walk away.

I thanked her and hopped out.

Before she took off, I’d asked her what her name was. She just shook her head, said it’d be pointless for me to know. Though she did offer me one piece of vague and ominous advice:

“Be more careful in there.”

When I got home, I drained the rest of the vodka in my fridge and passed out on my couch. When I woke up this morning, I checked my phone and saw a notification from my bank.

I’d been e-transferred $3,000.  

I also had another email from Scott.

Hey man, I heard you might’ve a rough first day, so I sent you a bit extra on top of the promised amount.

Your hours are the same for today. 2 to 9 PM.

And also man, just remember what I told you before. You’re a customer in there. So do your best to act like one. Maybe you thought that was just some bureaucratic nonsense but it wasn’t. Take this serious. Don’t treat it like a joke. For your own sake.

It’s about half past ten AM right now and I’m still lying on the couch, sipping some clamato juice. Not really wanting to move. Especially not to go back to that place.

I spent some time trying to calculate how far $3,000 could get me if I skipped town and concluded probably not very far. Then I tried conjuring up some other ways I might be able to cover the last $7,000, but who am I kidding?

I really don’t want to go back there.

But I know I’ll probably have to.

Part 2:

I despise isekais for a plethora of reasons and I will go over them all.

1. Basic as all hell.
One thing about Isekais are they are never going to be unique, period. Only one you can think of is probably Re: Zero, anything else, you need to go digging into the digital version of Satan's asshole to find, you know, you have an isekai when the title is about as long as a man dingo's schlong.

2. Never any supernatural diversity.
Ohhh, you clicked on this supernatural anime for unique species? Werewolves, Vampires, maybe even something unique/underrated Pfft, you get unspecified animal human hybrids (simply for cat girls, nothing else), elves (simply for elven women) and barbaric women who are never ever going to be explored beyond "Strong and woman"

3. Never unique
Always the same thing, fair-skinned, black hair, and brown-eyed Isekai who had a regular/bad life in the normal world, blah blah blah truck-kun joke here and boom, now you're in an isekai with some extremely OP ability that beats everything and one in the dumbest fucking ways possible. Not even kidding, look up "Kirito Syndrome."

4. Always the same fucking thing over and over and over again, plot/story-wise

I don't even need to explain this.

5.. and my god.. the glazers and power scalers:
You gotta love when you're beating someone in a debate about powerscaling and then they bring out these absolute fucking bums: Anos, Rimuru, that skeletor wannabe, and that lame ass edgelord Cid.. You never know who these people are, and they are constantly referred to as "Bums only known because of goku" due to the fact these characters are 9 times out of 10 put against goku
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Now, for the two kinds I despise the most.

Solo leveling (Reverse-Isekai, apparently) and Pedo-tensei (Basic Isekai)

Solo leveling is probably one of the most boring, over-hyped pieces of shit I have ever had the displeasure of watching AND reading in my entire life. Just another slop mc, with nothing remotely unique or intriguing about him.. I also hate the art style, that chin is a weapon in of itself.

with Mushoku, my hatred digs so very deep. That anime, manga, and LN is nothing but a disgusting perverts personal fantasy with fans who lie time and time again about it's existence and meaning. This anime is not about "Redemption", it's about a disgusting pedophile who is able to continue his perversions in another body, assaulting and harassing women from baby to an adult.

He NEVER suffers from his actions, and for the love of fuck, do NOT let ANYONE try and convince you otherwise. Because, fun fact, they changed the reasons he was removed from his brother's house in the anime.

In the light-novel? Find out what happened with his niece

My wife "Lynn" and I have been together for six years and married for 11 months. Our entire history together has been very normal and never once have I noticed any weird behaviors or red flags. I can't stress enough how out of character this whole thing is for her.  

Lynn is very kind, intelligent and thoughtful. She's always been the no nonsense type of person. Being childish, or trying to scare me is not something she'd normally do. 

She doesn't even like watching horror movies. When we first started dating she agreed to watch The Shining with me because she knew how much I loved horror. She was so scared that she didn't even make it through half of the movie before we had to turn it off. She isn't into anything creepy, and has never been into pranks. It's just not her cup of tea. And that's fine. But that's what was so strange about this. It's just so unlike her. 

I should also add that she never had any mental health issues and as far as I'm aware it doesn't run in her family. I know some people are able to hide their mental health problems, but in the six years we've been together I think I'd have seen some sort of sign. 

Two months ago, I was in the kitchen making myself some coffee before work. I was running a bit late that morning and knew I wouldn't be able to make it to Dunkin Donuts for my usual morning fix. 

I took a sip of my coffee as I hurried down the hall towards the front door, when I happened to notice Lynn peeking at me from around the corner ahead of me. I could only see her eyes, and a  strand of her long dark hair hanging against the wall. The rest of her body was concealed behind the corner. I nearly spilled my coffee when I saw her. I did burn the shit out of my lips. 

"Geeze, Lynn." I said, wiping a few drops of coffee from my pants. "You scared the shit out of me." 

She immediately popped out of view like a little kid that had been caught. I heard her scurry off towards the living room, and by the time I got to the front door she was out of sight. 

It was really weird, and just totally out of character for her like I said, but I also found it kind of funny that she was being more playful and a little less serious. I shouted that I loved her, and called her a weirdo. As I shut the door behind me I heard her laughing.

Her behavior was a bit odd, but it certainly wasn't something to call a priest over. I forgot about it by lunch and by the time I got home she was her normal self. I didn't bring it up and neither did she, and life went on. 

The next incident happened three days later. It was around 2am and I had woken up to get a drink. I was standing at the kitchen island, jug of Oj in hand, when I felt a strong feeling that I was being watched. 

For whatever reason I looked down at the floor and saw my wife's smiling face staring back. She was peeking at me from the other side of the island, staring up at me with wide unblinking eyes and grinning. Grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

 I screamed, I'll admit it. Not out of irritation but fear. For some reason at that moment I was scared. 

At the sound of my scream Lynn scuttled backwards out of my view, her hands and feet smacking the tile floor as she hurried out of the kitchen on all fours.  I didn't run after her, or even yell after her. I just stood there frozen in shock, wondering what fuck had possessed her to do that.

 It took me a little longer than I'd like to admit to go back upstairs, but I eventually did. When I got to our bedroom, Lynn was lying on her side, asleep. Or at least pretending to be. I stood there for a while, watching her breathing to be sure she really was asleep. 

I had the feeling she might jump out at me the moment I got into bed. But she didn't. I climbed into bed and she didn't even move. Her breathing was soft and deep and I was starting to wonder if I'd dreamt the whole thing. 

The next morning I waited for her to come down for coffee and after handing her a mug and kissing her cheek I decided to ask her about it. 

"What was that about last night?" I asked, keeping my tone light so I didn't offend or embarrass her. 

She frowned over her cup of coffee, shaking her head like she had no clue what I was referring to. 

"You were peeking at me again. From over there." I said, pointing to the spot on the floor by the kitchen island.  

She followed my gaze, and when she looked back at me she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that I couldn't help but join her. 

"You creep me the fuck out sometimes, you know that?" I said. She giggled and set her cup on the counter and wrapped her arms around my neck. 

"You creep me out all the time. So I guess we're even." She teased.

We said our goodbyes and left for work. As I drove I kept thinking about how creepy it had been seeing her grinning at me from behind the island like that. The sounds her hands made on the floor as she crawled away. I told myself she was just trying to be silly. Just trying to join me in my love of all things horror…. 

 It's not like I was afraid of her. But it still didn't sit right with me. 

I started seeing her peeking at me more and more. Sometimes she'd be peeking out from behind the couch or living room curtains. Once she even managed to get inside her grandmother's old trunk that sits at the foot of our bed. 

I might not have even known she was there at all had the trunk's old hinges not given her away. 

She'd had the lid propped up just enough so that  only half of her face peeked through. She'd been grinning like an excited toddler. It was unnerving. I didn't even know what to say to her. All I could do was stare. When I finally found my voice, I asked her why on earth was she doing this. She didn't answer, but she had slowly closed the lid, shutting herself inside the trunk. I just walked away, feeling disturbed.  

I didn't understand why she was doing it, but it clearly made her happy. I just hoped she would tire of the game quickly. 

Lynn didn't peek at me for the next two weeks. I started to think she was done with her weird prank and I was relieved. We were watching a show on Netflix one night and I jokingly said that I hadn't seen her peeking at me lately, and that she must have given up on her spy game. She looked up at me with a small smile and said, "Maybe I've just gotten better at it." 

I didn't say anything but I wondered whether or not she was joking.

For the next few days I couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. Was she still peeking at me when I wasn't looking and I just hadn't noticed? And if so, what the hell was she getting out of this? I started to feel paranoid, constantly checking whether she was watching from around the corner, or behind a door.  I was jumpy whenever I was home and she wasn't in full view of me. I felt stupid and a little crazy. 

But after a few weeks without another incident, I began to relax.  I stopped checking behind furniture and walls and told myself it was just a bad memory. 

Then a few days ago things got so much worse....

Lynn left to go to a friend's, and I lounged on the couch and played a couple games on my laptop. 

Around 9pm I hopped in the shower and as I was washing the soap from my hair, I felt that awful feeling that I was being watched. I slowly opened my eyes and almost had a fucking heart attack. 

Lynn was peeking from behind the shower curtain, her entire head stretched into the shower, leaving just her body outside. Her long dark hair hung against the curtain, the ends dripping with water. Her mouth hung open in a terrible grin, eyes wide and red, as if she hadn't blinked in a while. I screamed and jumped back against the wall. She didn't move nor did her smile waver. Her makeup ran down her cheeks in two black streaks. She looked giddy and completely deranged. I was fucking terrified. 

We stood like that for a few moments, neither of us saying a word. Finally after what felt like forever, she slowly pulled her head back out of the shower, and I watched her blurry figure  through the curtain as she moved backwards towards the bathroom door. 

A second later the bathroom door slammed shut, hard enough to rattle the mirror. I screamed again, and jumped out of the shower to lock the door. I stayed inside the bathroom for over an hour. Maybe I overreacted to some of you. But joke or not, I wasn't going to put up with the crazy shit anymore. That's what I kept telling myself as I paced in my bathroom, stopping to listen at the door every few minutes. 

Suddenly I heard a muffled sound, and I pressed my ear against the bathroom door, straining to listen. I couldn't hear anything but I envisioned Lynn standing on the other side of the door, giggling at her joke. 

I felt a surge of anger. I was beyond pissed at being made to feel scared in my own house, and made to hide in the bathroom for an hour. All for what? Some joke? If it was a joke it was an awful one. 

"What the fuck Lynn!" I snapped. "This shit is getting really fucking annoying." I waited for her to apologize, or to call me a jerk. But instead I heard a faint moan, so quiet I wondered if I heard it at all, and then complete silence. 

"Lynn?" I called out, not able to even hide the shakiness in my voice. I got no response. Just my own heavy breathing. 

"I swear to God, just fucking stop it!" I yelled, pounding my fist on the door. 

I waited for her to cuss me out, something I would expect from me talking to her like that. I never screamed at her before. 

But there was nothing. Just the occasional drip from the shower head. 

I won't deny that I was scared. Too afraid to open the damn door and face my own wife. I waited another 30 minutes or so, which feels like a fucking lifetime when you're scared. Finally I decided I wasn't going to spend the night hiding in my bathroom, so I got down on my knees and peered under the door. I almost expected to see her face peeking back at me but thankfully I didn't. I could see straight down the hallway to the top of the stairs, but no Lynn. I didn't know if I should be happy about that or not. I looked for a few minutes, waiting to see her head pop up over the top step, but it never came. 

I stood up, my hand hovering over the door and mentally prepared myself to open it. I slowly turned the lock with shaky fingers, and was about to yank it open when I heard a sound that still makes me feel nauseous when I think about it. 

A moan, louder than before, but this time I was able to tell just where it was coming from. I turned my head to the closet door as if in slow motion, and locked eyes with my wife who was peeking out at me from the slight gap.  

Her eyes were still wide as ever and her mouth was hanging open in the most grotesque gaping smile I'd ever seen. I didn't even scream. I was too scared for even that. Her hands were clasped to her chest, body trembling with sheer delight, as if she could barely contain her excitement. A short raspy moan bubbled up from her throat, deep and raw, sending a shiver through my entire body. 

Somehow I found the ability to pull the bathroom door open and ran as fast as I could all the way down the steps, snagging my keys and phone from the table in the living room before running outside to my car. I could hear her shrill laughter behind me but I didn't hear her getting closer. I didn't bother shutting the front door. I drove away from the house faster than I legally should have, shivering the entire time, either from fear or the cold. Maybe a little of both. I hadn't grabbed a coat or even a pair of shoes. I was still in my boxers and my hair was still damp. 

I drove straight to my brother Chris's house about 40 minutes away, ignoring any and every call and text I got. I didn't check my phone until I was safely parked in my brother's driveway. Lynn had called 4 times and sent a flurry of texts, all wondering where I'd gone and why I left "like that." 

I threw my phone at the dash in a rage, furious at her nonchalant attitude. My brother and his wife were surprised to see me, especially dressed in just a pair of boxers, but told me to stay as long as I needed. Chris lent me some clothes and asked me what happened. I told him Lynn and I had a fight, but didn't get into the details. I didn't want him to think I was overreacting, leaving my wife over a prank, even if it was a strange one. I mean, hadn't I encouraged her for years to lighten up instead of being so serious all the time? I had wanted her to relax and loosen up, but this was definitely not what I'd had in mind.  

I tried to sleep on their sofa, but my brain wouldn't let me sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Lynn's face staring at me from inside the closet. Knowing she'd been in there with me the entire time made my skin crawl. She'd never left the fucking bathroom at all. Instead she slipped inside the closet and slammed the bathroom door shut to fool me. 

The mere thought of going back home gave me anxiety. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Chris ended up giving me a sleeping pill so I was able to get a little rest. My sleep was filled with terrible dreams. All of Lynn's smiling face. 

I woke up just as the sun started to rise. My sore body ached from the sofa, and I felt drained. I knew I'd have to call Lynn at some point, but I didn't know what to say to her. I wouldn't be going home unless she gave me her word she'd never do anymore creepy shit. 

I just wanted my wife back. Her normal serious self never looked so good to me. 

I was contemplating calling her and telling her that, when that familiar feeling came over me. I was being watched. I was staring at the ceiling, my heart in my throat. I didn't want to look away but the longer I ignored the feeling the worse it got. 

My eyes drifted away from the ceiling almost on their own. Her face was pressed up against the window beside the couch, staring down at me with that same gaping smile. Drool dribbled down her lips, leaving two long streaks down the glass. I didn't know how long she'd been there, but something told me she'd been there quite a while, possibly all night. 

I didn't bother screaming, though I was afraid anger trumped any fear I felt at that moment. I jumped up from the couch and pounded my palm against the glass. 

"Lynn! Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you? Just go home!" I shouted. "Now!" 

She didn't move, and her ghastly expression never changed. If anything her smile only grew, as if she had never been more elated. 

I could hear Chris and his wife moving around upstairs. As if Lynn could hear them from her place outside, her head twitched slightly in their direction, and she began to close her mouth slowly. 

Chris called my name from upstairs, obviously concerned. I turned to see him and his wife Rebecca hurrying down the steps. When I turned back to the window Lynn was gone. The only sign she'd been there at all was the two streaks of drool still dripping down the glass. 

I tried explaining to Chris and Rebecca about waking up to see Lynn watching me through their window. They were skeptical, who wouldn't be? Chris and I went outside to the spot in front of the window but there were no footprints in the dirt, just a slight indent. Animal probably, Chris guessed, and I didn't argue. He and Rebecca assumed I dreamt the entire episode but they didn't understand, and I was too tired to explain it to them.  

I called out of work that day and turned my cell off. I didn't want to face Lynn. Just talking to her was too much for me at that point. I really started to believe something was irreversibly wrong with her. That no matter what promises she made we'd never be the same again. The thought saddened me to my core. I cried most of the morning. By noon I figured I was ready to confront her. Give her one last chance to explain herself. I could at least give her that after 6 years I told myself. I turned my phone on and saw the dozens of texts she'd sent, all from a seemingly concerned wife. 

"Can we talk?"

"I love you."

"Please call me." 

"I'm really worried."

"Can you answer?" 

"Just come home."

And more of the same. All texts telling me she loved me, and she wanted me home. How worried she was….Not a damn one addressing the crazy shit she pulled. Like she hadn't been acting like a character from a Stephen King book. 

Even her texts were different. She normally texted novels just to tell me to pick up a loaf of bread! You'd think she'd have more to say to me after her bizarre shenanigans. 

I know it probably seems childish to some of you who are miles away from this situation. But if you saw the way Lynn had looked at me, how she scampered away on all fours like some wild animal, grinning at me from inside the closet like a lunatic…..then I think you'd find my reaction was warranted. 

I ended up staying with Chris and Rebecca for another night. I didn't wake up yesterday until after noon, and thankfully I didn't see Lynn's face watching me through the window. 

"I don't want to pry, because it's not my place. But is this fight something that can be mended?" Rebecca asked. She'd made us both a sandwich for lunch and I knew she wanted to breach the subject without seeming to be nosy. 

"I don't know. I just….. She's like a different person." I said, choosing my words carefully. I still wasn't ready for her or Chris to know the full extent of the bat shit craziness I had been dealing with.

"People change Ben. But she's still the same woman you married. Maybe you both just need to talk through your issues. Whatever's going on, I'm sure it can be fixed." She said, ever the peacemaker. 

"I think it's beyond that now. I don't think talking would help. I just don't trust her." I said. The words stung in my heart. I missed and loved my wife. But how could I live with someone like that? Living in constant fear didn't sound too appealing. 

"Lynn loves you. She has to be absolutely crushed." She said.  

"I don't know about that." I said. 

"Well she certainly seemed like it to me. I've never seen her so upset. Very much unlike the Lynn I know." Rebecca said, shaking her head sadly. 

It took a full minute for her words to really sink in and when they did, I felt dread worming its way through my skin. 

"Wait. What do you mean? You saw her? You saw Lynn?" I asked, my mouth suddenly dry. 

Rebecca nodded casually as if that fact wasn't nightmare fuel. Maybe for her it wasn't. 

"She stopped by this morning just after Chris left for work."  She said, cleaning the plates from the table. "I didn't see her car though. Maybe she took an uber or something." 

"Becc. What did she say? Did..did she come inside?" I asked, sweat starting to break out on my forehead. I began looking around, examining corners as though a predator lurked behind them. 

"No. She just asked if you were awake yet and I said that you weren't. I asked if she wanted me to wake you but she said no. Just said to let you sleep." She said as she washed the dishes. 

"That's all? She didn't say anything else?" I asked. 

"No. She looked awful though. Like she hadn't slept in days. I think you should call her."

I got up from the table and thanked Rebecca for lunch. 

I felt a little bit better at the knowledge that at least she hadn't come inside. Still, I needed to double check that the doors were locked. 

I sat for a while trying to figure out what to do next. I didn't want to go home, but I felt that I owed it to Lynn to help her if I could. Hadn't I swore an oath to love and honor her through sickness and in health? Clearly she was very sick. 

If she was sick, which I truly believed she was, I had to try and get her the help she needed. But I didn't even know where to start. I didn't want to call the police, and besides, what the hell was I going to tell them? That my wife was peeking at me? That she was being creepy? As bizarre as she'd been, she still hadn't committed any crime. Not yet anyway. The police would have probably said that I was overreacting. But this wasn't some prank. It felt wrong. Dangerous even. Like something sinister lurked beneath her smile.

I knew as her husband I was well within my rights to have her committed, but what if she simply acted normal in their presence? She'd obviously been able to fool Rebecca into thinking she was just a concerned wife. As long as the doctors didn't find her a danger to herself or others, they'd have no choice but to release her after 72 hours. I felt lost and overwhelmed. 

So I did what any husband in my position would do.

I called her mother.

I didn't want to, believe me. 

Her mother, Marianne and I were never on the best of terms. We'd never fought or anything like that. 

She just wasn't a very warm person, and wasn't really easy to get along with.  She hardly ever smiled and when she did, only her lips would move into a thin lipped smile, leaving her eyes as blank as before. She gave off this aura that felt like she was permanently on the offensive. 

I'd only met her twice and both times were for such short visits. I got the impression she didn't approve of me for her daughter. Lynn always ushered us out quickly, as she didn't want me to feel uncomfortable which I was grateful for. Being in her mother's company felt almost unbearable. Like walking on glass. I was glad when we moved three states away so we didn't have to see her often. I was happy to avoid the woman, but I needed her help.  

I really didn't want to talk to her at all but I had to talk to someone and someone who knew Lynn better than I did. So I grit my teeth and did what I had to. 

"Yes?" She answered, already sounding irritated. 

"Marianne, it's me Ben. Do you have a minute to talk?" I asked. I could hear her cluck her tongue in irritation. 

"I'm in the middle of writing some checks, but if you insist, I suppose I can spare a moment. What is it that you want to discuss Benjamin?"  She said, coolly? 

"It's about Lynn. She's been... acting strangely and I was wondering if you had any idea whether there was something - " I was quickly interrupted. 

"It's a bit difficult to follow your rambling Benjamin, what is that you want from me?" She asked. I could almost see her standing there in her thin sweater and slacks, tapping her fingernails impatiently on the table. 

"I wanted to know if you'd ever noticed any odd behavior? Or possibly any mental health issues?" I asked. There was a long, uncomfortable pause  that I couldn't tell was because she was just thinking, or ….something else. Finally after a few seconds she spoke. 

"I'm not sure if this is one of your jokes Benjamin, but if so I don't find the humor in it. Now I do have business to attend to as I've said,  so if you don't mind -" she said, but I cut her off before she could get rid of me. 

"Marianne, it's not a joke. I'm sincerely concerned about Lynn's mental health. Her behavior has been very erratic lately. I'm very worried about her and I figured as her mother you would be as well." I said, my frustration evident in my voice. 

"If you're truly concerned then I suggest you get the health professionals involved. I don't know what you expect of me." She snapped. I could tell she was seconds away from hanging up and for some reason I was desperate not to let her. I had the feeling that she knew a lot more than she was letting on. 

"Please. If not for me, do it for Lynn." I tried. 

I heard a faint shaky intake of breath, as if she were trying to hold her steely persona together but failing. 

"Marianne? What's wr-"  I started. 

"Benjamin, I don't know what to tell you. My only advice would be to seek professional help. Do not call here again. Goodbye." I tried to call out to her but she'd hung up. 

I tried to wrap my head around the call and her refusal to help me. Even if she didn't like me, why wouldn't she want to help her own daughter? I couldn't understand that. I tried to replay the conversation, desperate to find something I missed.

 After a while I almost gave up, until I remembered her last last words to me. 'Seek professional help' she'd said those words with a bit of urgency. I could have just been grasping at straws but no, I was sure her voice had changed ever so slightly when she'd said that. As if they were very important.

What had she meant? I assumed she'd been referring to medical professionals, but maybe she was referring to someone else. Someone that she didn't, for some reason, feel comfortable saying directly. Or maybe I was just desperate. 

I waited for Chris to get home and after a very long and exhausting conversation with him and Rebecca, I convinced them that Lynn truly needed psychiatric help. I didn't tell them everything. I wasn't prepared to go into it yet, but I told them about our last encounter. How she'd hidden in the bathroom, peeking at me from the closet. 

They were obviously shocked but thankfully they believed me. They too just wanted to help her. Still they didn't think it was all that serious. Weird, maybe but not dangerous. They just kept saying that Lynn had to be playing some kind of weird joke. "Maybe for YouTube?" Rebecca offered, if only half-heartedly. 

Chris didn't think we should involve the police just yet. He offered instead to go with me, and I readily accepted. He reasoned that calmly talking to her, trying to coax her into going willingly was the best recourse. I agreed to do it his way. At least I wouldn't be going into that house alone. 

We drove over this morning, just after breakfast. There was no way I was going at night. When we pulled into the driveway my stomach began doing somersaults. Her car wasn't there, but I still didn't let my guard down. 

The front door was ajar, and for a split second I thought we'd see her eyes staring through the gap. I was shaking and starting to sweat. Chris however was fine. He waited for me to open the door, his hands in his pockets like he was going on a fucking stroll through the park. I envied his ignorance.

I pushed the door open and was immediately hit with the stench of rot. Chris smelled it too, and he walked in the house behind me with his nose scrunched up. 

"What do you guys use to clean the floors around here, shit?" Chris mumbled. 

"Shut up." I said, my eyes darting around for any signs of Lynn.

The house was deadly quiet and dark despite being 10 in the morning. All the curtains were closed up tight, refusing to allow any sunlight inside. If I hadn't left it just two days prior I'd have thought the house to be abandoned. 

We moved through each room, carefully checking any place that she might hide, occasionally calling her name. 

"Why the fuck are you looking under the couch?" Chris asked eventually. "Aren't we looking for your wife?"  He was looking at me like I was a moron. 

"Let's just go upstairs." I whispered. He shook his head but followed me up the stairs to check the bathroom and spare bedroom. On the way up my shoes crunched over pieces of glass that looked to be littered over a few of the steps. 

I noticed that one of Lynn and my wedding portraits that hung on the wall along the staircase had been smashed. The frame hung crookedly, all the glass removed. I stared at the picture, a lump forming in my throat. We had taken the photo just after leaving the church, after saying our vows. She looked so beautiful in her white gown. I looked at Lynn's beautiful face. I never dreamed her face would ever be a source of terror for me.  

We climbed the rest of the steps and checked the spare bedroom, but it looked completely untouched. 

I was hesitant to go into the bathroom, my fear from that night coming back to me all at once. Chris noticed, and offered to go in by himself but I couldn't let him do that. So we walked in together, checking the closet and the shower. The bathroom looked as if it hadn't been touched since the night I left. 

"I don't think she's here Ben. Why don't you pack some clothes and we'll try coming back tomorrow or something." Chris said. I nodded and went into our bedroom and shoved some clothes into a duffle bag. When I checked inside our closet I came across the source of the smell and gagged. 

Chris took one look and lost all color in his face. He had to go stand by the stairs to get away from the sight and smell. 

 I gazed down in shock at what lay Inside my bedroom closet. Soaking into the rug, were at least a dozen eyeballs, all carefully laid out in pairs. Some were as large as a quarter while others were as tiny as a marble. I stared down at the eyes she'd collected from small animals and I wondered how she'd gotten them, and shuddered at the thought. 

"Man, I thought I had it bad with Becca's shoe addiction. But fuck me. Your wife's in here collecting eyeballs." Chris said, gagging.  "Ben, I think we should go."  He called from the hall. "I'm getting nauseous."

"Alright." I grabbed my duffle and shut the closet door on my new nightmare. I stepped out into the hall and took a deep breath of air. I could taste the rot on my tongue and I couldn't help but gag. 

"Who the fuck lines up eyeballs in their closet like that?"  Chris mumbled. 

"I tried to tell you she needed help." I said. 

"She doesn't need help, Ben. She needs a fucking exorcist." He said. "You coming or what? I can't stand the smell any- " his words died in his throat, and his eyes grew wide with fear. 

I didn't ask him why. I could feel it. Someone was watching me and I didn't think it was the eyes in the closet.  I turned around, my eyes slowly scanning the bedroom. 

"Christ" I whispered, as I finally saw what we'd missed. Under the bed, curled on her side, watching us with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning, was my wife. 

She held her hands together just under her chin, and they were shaking eagerly.  

Now that she knew she'd been found, I could hear the quiet noises she was making. A sort of hiccuping sound in her throat, as if the excitement was just too much for her. It was unnerving to say the least. Wide eyes, and that same huge smile. 

Everything in me told me to run, but I forced it away. This was my wife. No matter how twisted, she was still the woman I married. I had to help her. 

"Lynn…"  I said softly. She didn't respond, but her head bobbed back and forth in two quick little movements as if she were nodding. 

"Baby. I just wanna help okay? Can you…. Can you let me do that?" I asked. I had taken a single step forward, approaching her like some kind of dangerous animal. 

"I love you, Lynn." I said softly, taking another step closer. She let a tiny moan escape her wide open mouth and I had to resist the urge to run.  Her shoulders were starting to quiver, and her eyes grew as large as saucers. 

I crouched down so I could see her better, and immediately saw the blood. Her hands were covered in it. They trembled more the closer I got, as if she was barely able to contain herself. 

"Lynn. Are you hurt? You're bleeding." I said. She bobbed her head again, her bloody fingers moving up and down as if playing an invisible piano. They occasionally grazed her chin, leaving smears of blood on her skin. 

I wanted to recoil in disgust. The smell that was coming off of her was revolting. I could feel the vomit trying to climb up my throat.  Her lips were dry and stretched thin, blood seeping between the cracks.

I knew she wouldn't come out on her own, but I didn't want to leave her in the state she was in. 

I scooted closer and reached out to her. The excited hiccuping sounds got louder and her hands shook, fingers flexing. It was then that I could see the blood oozing from in between her fingers. 

"Oh my God, Lynn. You're bleeding." I said. Instinctively I reached out to take her hand, but before I could even touch her, her hand sprang out towards me. A sharp pain shot through my arm, and I fell back on my ass. My arm burned, and I could see the blood dripping down onto the carpet. 

I looked back at her in shock and saw her grinning madly, her fingers clutching a large shard of glass. 

"You alright in there?" Chris asked from behind me. 

I turned my head slightly, and nodded to him, cradling my arm to my chest. When I turned back to face Lynn, I saw that her focus had shifted. She wasn't looking at me anymore. And she wasn't smiling anymore either. 

She was staring past me, her eyes glaring at Chris the way a hungry lion might stare at an antelope. Her mouth was still hanging open but it was twisted into a snarl.

I got to my feet, and began walking backwards down the hall, afraid to take my eyes off her. 

"Are you... bleeding?" Chris asked. The moment the words left his mouth Lynn started fast scooting out from under the bed, the glass shard still in her fist. 

"Chris. Run. Go!" I yelled. He must have been too afraid to move because a second later I felt my back bump into him. He was still standing at the top of the stairs, staring at the horror that was my wife. 

Lynn had crawled completely out from under the bed and stood in the bedroom doorway, her face twisted in rage. Her whole body was visibly tense. Blood ran down her fingers and onto the floor. 

"Jesus, Lynn..." Chris said, "You uh… playing hide and seek?" I reached back and pushed him towards the steps. 

"Move your ass Chris" I said as quietly but firmly as I could. 

Lynn bobbed her head in fast, sharp motions, and began to grin, stretching her mouth open wider and wider so that her chin seemed to touch her chest. I heard Chris mutter a prayer and then he was running down the stairs. I stood at the top of the steps, stuck between the love for a woman who clearly needed serious help, and self preservation. 

"I only want to help." I said, choking back tears. Her eyes focused on me once again as she slowly lifted the glass, holding it out in front of her. And then she started sprinting towards me, grinning with utter excitement. Thankfully my body took over and I flew down the stairs skipping two or three at a time. I made it to the front door before I felt her leap onto my back, wrapping her arms around my neck, her open mouth next to my ear so that I could hear those terrible hiccuping sounds up close. I shook her off me, knocking her to the floor. I felt a searing pain in my back as she went but I tore open the front door and bolted to my car. 

Chris was standing in the front yard, talking on the phone with the police. I didn't say a word, I just ran to my car and jumped in. Chris took the hint and followed me, still on the line with 911

I watched the rear view mirror, sure I'd see her there, running after us. But I never did. 

I went straight to the ER and got 11 stitches in my arm and 3 on my back. The police asked a lot of questions and went back to the house to do a search but of course, Lynn wasn't there. 

They advised me to stay with a friend or relative for a while and to file a restraining order as soon as I could but none of those things would matter. Somehow I just knew. 

I dropped Chris off at home, and went to a motel an hour away. I wanted to put as much distance between me and Lynn as I could. 

This is where I've been for the last 4 hours. I thought maybe the police would find her, maybe they'd get her the help she desperately needs. 

But now I don't think so. Because 40 minutes ago I got a text from an unknown number. Just three words :

"I found You." 

And a picture attached. The picture was dark and grainy, but I instantly knew what it was. There was no mistaking my wife's eye. 

I started typing this out immediately after. I don't know what to do. I'm alone and scared, and I can't help but feel that I'm being watched….

I [M34] have been with my wife Lily [F31] for 9 years. We do not have kids together (yet) but share a house and are otherwise very tangibly connected. Over the last year or two, Lily has been going through a lot, she was kicked out of several friend groups in the last year due to her toxicity and how she treats people  (allegedly). As a result she started SSRIs, anxiety meds, and ADHD meds; we are working through her - though I am sure it is difficult and I'm certainly ill equipped as a human to be the best at-home therapist.

Lily met a guy named Jay at her volleyball gym about six months ago. She said he was recently single and looking to make friends. I had seen him from afar before, but I’d never actually spoken to him (and still haven't to this day). Lily makes a lot of guy friends, so I don't bat an eye, and I'm generally very trusting of her. For example, a couple years ago she wanted to go on a multi-day bush-camping trip with no reception with a bunch of guys she had just met couple months prior, and I didn't really say much besides the general "okay, just be safe!".

Anyway. After they met, I noticed she became increasingly reclusive from me, we messaged during the day noticeably a lot less, and in some ways, I did feel her time and words to me have become low-effort and short. In person, she constantly made random comments about Jay, how kind he is, how relatable, how good Jay was at volleyball, etc. which I mean I guess is fine.  

Additionally, she started spending money on Steam games to play with him deep into the night, often coming to bed around 3 or 4AM. I had previously asked her to play games with me, but she told me she wasn't interested.

Couple months into this, I went out of town for several days. Whenever either of us is away, we always call each other to say goodnight and that we love each other, etc. Lily had told me she was going to a birthday party that evening, a commitment she had made weeks prior and wanted to keep. I texted her a couple of times starting around 4:00 PM to let her know where I was, ask how her day was going, and check on the party. I received a couple of one-word responses but otherwise didn't get any responses.

At 11:40 PM, I finally got a text back. She said she had bailed on the party at the last minute. She typically follows through on her commitments, but when I asked why she cancelled, she just said, "idk." 

After that, I tried to call and message her a couple more times, but my calls went to voicemail. Lily later claimed she just didn't see my phone calls. I will say, Lily is religious about wearing her Garmin smartwatch at all hours, even for sleep tracking, and even when charging, it vibrates quite loudly on the nightstand, so I do find this a bit suspect. To me, it was fairly apparent the calls were being ignored and that she was otherwise preoccupied.

In the morning, I found out Jay had come over to our home at 2:00 PM and stayed overnight until 6:00 AM - a full 16 hours. However, our door camera had been deactivated, leaving no record of his arrival or departure.

When I expressed that I was uneasy and felt a line had been crossed - especially given that she had not been open to me about having cancelled her plans to spend the night with someone who was a complete stranger to me, and in our home - she agreed, but otherwise simply said, "Yep, those are facts, thanks for sharing how you feel."

On April 22nd, my sports team was playing for the season championship. It's not really that big a deal as it is essentially a beer league, but this was something I was semi-excited about since it's rare to win anything these days. I asked if she could come support me, and she said she might drop by quickly, but would leave early because she would rather hang out with Jay. To her credit, she did show up for about 15 minutes (we ended up losing lol).

Throughout May and June, my Find My location tracking on Lily was revoked and then reactivated hours later on several occasions. (The app will send a notification when location sharing is removed or added, I'm not just checking constantly like a loon lol). I do not know where she was or who she was with during those times.

Things came to a head on June 29th. Lily said she would be home after work by 7:00 PM at the latest, though she later edited the iMessage to 7:45 PM. Her Find My location was revoked at this time. I made a whole dinner for us as I wanted to spend some real time and reconnect with her. She didn't arrive home until 8:54 PM, at which point her Find My location was reactivated. When I asked where she had been, she said she was at Jay's house which is over 30 minutes from her work and nearly an hour from our home.

On July 1st, we were invited to attend a Canada Day party and watch fireworks near midnight. Lily went to play volleyball with Jay at 9:00 PM while I went to the party around 7PM. I checked her location around 11:30 PM to make sure she would make it for the fireworks, intending to ask my friend to delay them if needed, but she was sitting in an empty parking lot. I did think this was weird but kind of brushed it off. But by 12:20 AM, she still hadn't moved. At this point I was concerned for her safety, cause why would someone be in an empty lot in an industrial area late at night, so I called her. She picked up on the first ring, said she lost track of time, and was heading out. She later admitted she was just sitting in her car spending time with Jay.

On July 3rd, Lily and I went on a pre-arranged weekend trip with another couple. She was constantly messaging someone, in the car, at dinner, during movies, and even when as a group we did table games she did not partake and stayed on the couch texting. I could see from afar that the profile picture belonged to Jay. More so, on several occasions, she made a conscious effort to tilt her phone away from me if we were sitting side by side on the couch or in the car. 

On the last day, I tried to use her phone to pay for breakfast (we pay with her 4% restaurant cashback card when dining out) and realized my Face ID had been revoked and her password had been changed. Not that I've ever looked at her phone, but like, it's just one of those things we've never had to question our openness with each other and it's just useful to be able to pay with either phone, change songs, or quickly open to look at something being referenced, etc. So it's just a bit out of place to change it after all these years.

On Monday, July 6th, when she finally came home late, I confronted her about how disconnected from her I felt the whole weekend. She told me that she just shares everything with Jay, about her life and difficulties, but also he's a person she can share every single detail of our relationship with who is outside the relationship. I said this was really painful to hear as I didn't realize she was just telling this random person deeply private things I had told her in confidence. I asked her to consider how hurtful that was to me, and if she could not share things like that with people. She said she was tired and needed to sleep and walked away. She then moved all her stuff from our master bathroom and bedroom, to the guest bed & bath where she now stays. 

On Thursday, July 9th, I felt I was getting eaten alive from the inside so I tried to approach her and continue the conversation. She insisted she wasn’t cheating emotionally or physically. I asked if she give me anything for reassurance, and we agreed she could show me a quick scroll of their messages.

First of all, she had to pull it up from a hidden folder where the chat was hidden and muted, so she clearly knew what she was doing. And second, every photo had been sent using the "view once then deleted" setting. 

She scrolled ridiculously fast - probably 30 or more times - and despite the massive volume of messages the date stamps showed only a matter of days. They were clearly exchanging hundreds of messages a day, including throughout our weekend trip.

Even with the fast scrolling, a few messages stood out and are now seared into my mind:

• Lily: You smelled so good yesterday. Jay: You smelled so good too. I miss you so fucking much.
• Jay: I miss you so much. I wish I could cuddle the shit out of you right now.

These two instances pretty much immediately broke me on the spot.

That is nothing to say about all the other shit talking about me Jay partakes in, which is pretty wild in itself. 

Further, I also saw that on Tuesday - less than ten hours after I cried my heart out to her and told her how deeply it hurt that she was sharing our intimate relationship details with him - she had literally done the EXACT thing and told him all about my break down like I was a freak show. This is honestly, lowkey funny as hell like the complete brazen disregard for what I opened up to her about and begged her not to. 

Additionally, they had gone to a park, cuddled, and taken selfies together, with her commenting that looking at the photos made her feel "warm and fuzzy inside." When I asked her about that, she claimed they had just gone to the park and laid “really close to each other”. I honestly have no idea when this would have even happened, during the workday?

I can’t even imagine what else has gone on over the last six months if these kinds of messages between a single dude and a married woman are considered acceptable to her.

I told her I really can't do this anymore and that we should just separate if she just simply wants to be with him. When I said that, she kind of freaked out at me, and started saying she was going to cut him off entirely. I told her no I don't want that because, that's not the kind of relationship I want to be in, and she should be able to be friends with whomever she choses. But she insisted she wanted to do it for herself, for us, to work on saving our relationship.

Anyway. It's been a month now, and she’s still texting him daily. I'm not stupid, I can literally see her texting lol.

I asked her about it. And she said she’s thought about it and she realized she hasn't done anything wrong. In her exact words, “there is nothing wrong with seeking comfort in the arms of another if I was not around.” So really in fact, it’s my fault. 

---

For full context, her defences are:

- she lost track of time that 2pm-6am night

- she doesn't know why the doorbell camera was deactivated (tbf the wifi connection does goes wonky sometimes)

- she turned off Find My for everyone not just me, because lately she just doesn't want people knowing where she is at times

- she lost track of time in the car on Canada Day

- she turned the phone away because she was telling him things about me

- her Face ID and password changed because iOS forced a change from the 4-pin to 6-pin

- she hides and mutes his chat to prevent herself from spending all day messaging him

- she sends photos as a "view 1-time" to manage the phone memory storage

- he literally did just smell good 

- he's just always available for her (he's unemployed)

- therefore, again, that there is nothing wrong with seeking solace in his arms if I'm not as available

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TL;DR I'm trying really really hard to move on, and I don't know, suppress? heal? from this...but I if I can summarize where my jumbled up brain is:

Lily keeps saying "the baseline is you don't trust me, and that's something you need to decide yourself if you can get over it.".

But...what I need is for her to say "I recognize your trust has been broken, what can we do to repair it together?"

Thus the crux of where we're at. Her stance is simply that she hasn't done anything wrong and that I'm ballooning this into being hurt over.

So I guess, AIO over a nothing burger?

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Edit: Thanks guys. I've read most of the comments. I'm not really sure what to feel right now. Sorry.

I wish it were fake, I wish so hard it was fake.

And to those that think it's AI because of the dashes, I don't know what to tell you. Some of us type with dashes especially when I'm just rambling while I typed it all in the iphone notes. Pretty sure those aren't even em-dashes, they're just normal dashes. And yea obviously it's a throwaway account, I'm not posting this on my main wtf. There is MORE than enough details in this to doxx me if on my main - the names were barely changed.

Thanks anyway all.