When we were kids, my little brother died on Halloween. He's come back to visit me every year since his death.
Jimmy returned for the first time exactly one year after the accident. I was home alone. Dad was at the bar and Mom was dead. We’d crammed her into a pine box and shipped her off to the incinerator months ago. I’d been sitting on the couch watching a plump cockroach scuttle across the coffee table, sipping whiskey that I’d liberated the previous night after Dad passed out. I wasn’t quite drunk yet. At eleven years old, my tolerance to alcohol was comparable to most local stumblebum drunks. A knock came to the door, the gentle tap of brittle knuckles upon rotted wood. I paused with the rim of the bottle resting against my lips. Even the cockroach cocked its long antennae curiously toward the door. The local trick-or-treaters knew better than to come here seeking candy. Our ramshackle abode was always one DHS visit away from being condemned, and the cobwebs and sundry creepy-crawlies in our front windows certainly weren’t decorative. I reflexively choked out a sob when I opened the door and saw his ghostly form. The sheet draped over him was stained brown and soaked with stinking river water. “Jimmy?” I asked, my voice croaking in disbelief. As if to answer me, his jaw fell slack and I heard the tiniest groan emerge from under that sheet, like a whining door hinge in a quiet house. He raised his hand to me and I shrank back in fear, expecting him to thrust an accusatory finger and damn me as a liar and murderer. Instead, I realized that he was holding his hand open, expecting something. A dry, throaty sound whistled up from his slackened jaw and I suddenly understood what he wanted. My little brother had come back for his favorite holiday. I rushed up to my bedroom, reached under my bed, and grabbed Jimmy’s pumpkin-shaped Halloween bucket. I flicked off the roaches and shook out mouse shit then ran back to the front steps, where my little brother was waiting. As Jimmy snatched his candy bucket from me, I saw them, watching us from the corner. It was the same group of older bullies that harassed us last year, on the night of the accident. Last time, they’d been wearing clown masks. They chose the Power Rangers this year. Despite their masks, I could tell that those bullies didn’t quite believe what they were seeing. Jimmy had been presumed dead for a year, yet here he was, wearing the very same costume they’d seen him wearing on the night he went missing. I’d had a growth spurt since that night. Rage and self-hatred did wonders for a growing boy’s physique. Fueled by whiskey and a desperate urge to blame anyone other than myself for Jimmy’s death, I charged them. Outnumbered four-to-one, I took some shots, no doubt, but I routed them regardless, and I left one of them bleeding on the sidewalk, beaten nearly half-to-death. Then I returned to Jimmy, smiling, and hooked my pinky around his before we set off to celebrate Halloween. # I sat on my couch, eyes trained on the flickering candle on my coffee table. The power had been out for a month and I hadn’t seen any good reason to turn it back on; I’d only be cutting into my meager booze budget and, besides, the city was kicking me out in a few days. The house had been bought and paid for by some long-dead relative then passed down to my parents as an act of pity. When Dad finally kicked the bucket, he left the house to me, but I was never quite able to stay ahead of the property taxes. I wasn’t going to miss the place. It wasn’t exactly full of fond memories. At this time of night, I’d normally be blackout drunk, but tonight was Halloween and I didn’t want to miss Jimmy. My entire life might have amounted to a hill of shit, but I’ve promised to never let my little brother down again. I checked the time. Eight o’clock on the dot. I grabbed Jimmy’s Halloween bucket and headed out front. Jimmy never did tell me why Halloween was his favorite holiday. He’d been a gentle kid, small for his age, fair-skinned and wispy. You wouldn’t have known it to look at him, but he preferred the schlock and gore of October grindhouse horror movie marathons to kiddie fare more appropriate to his age. He never flinched at the scary parts, when the reanimated undead wreaked havoc or dream demons emerged to slash open teenage throats. I’d never attributed his love of Halloween to something so cliché as donning a mask to pretend to be someone else, though I wouldn’t have blamed him. No, I’d always suspected that Jimmy loved this time of year specifically because it was when the world went dim and happily embraced the horrific. Vampires and possessed dolls and werewolves made more sense than the more abstract horrors we faced at home. Or, shit, maybe the kid just really liked candy. I stepped outside and the riverwards were alive with grinning jack-o-lanterns, windows glowing orange and framed with fake spider webs, and scores of yuppie parents leading their kids door-to-door. I spotted him walking slowly toward the house. I swore, he got smaller every year. I waved to him. He didn’t wave back, but he did cock his head slightly, as if he was struggling to remember who I was. As always, he was wearing the filthy sheet, soaked in river water. I felt a passing wave of revulsion and guilt when I glimpsed the faded bloodstains where the fabric hugged Jimmy’s misshapen occipital. I smiled and offered him the bucket. Jimmy snatched it from my hand. Though there was only darkness within those crooked eye holes I’d cut into the sheet twenty-five years ago, somehow I knew that if he still had eyes, they’d have been gleaming. I reached down to his hand, hooked my pinky around his, and I took my little brother trick-or-treating, like I’d done every year since he first returned. This wasn’t our neighborhood anymore. Sure, the names of the streets were the same, but that was about it. The yuppie influx, with the ensuing rent increases and property tax hikes, had squashed out most of the old guard. The newbies didn’t care for the sturdy, century-old houses forged with brick and mortar. One by one, those stout homes were being flattened to make way for flimsier, but more stylish facades. Soon, our childhood home was going to suffer the same fate. Jimmy must have sensed that something was amiss because he tightened his pinky around mine. Though I haven’t heard his voice since that night by the river, his pinky squeeze said enough. It said, I’ve got you. That was our private show of reassurance that helped sustain us through our childhood. When Mom wept at the dinner table as we split a dried hunk of welfare cheese for dinner, I’d give Jimmy a squeeze. When Dad staggered home drunk and started laying into Mom, I’d join Jimmy on his small twin mattress. We’d squeeze pinkies, eyes shut tight, with pillows over our ears so we wouldn’t have to hear Dad’s fist knocking against Mom’s head. I’ve got you. Tonight, we stopped at every house that still had its lights on. Our new neighbors smiled awkwardly, genuinely troubled by the sight of the neighborhood drunk escorting a child in a raggedy ghost costume. I didn’t give a shit what they thought as long as they tossed a few bite-sized Snickers bars into Jimmy’s bucket. Soon, the streets began to empty and the trick-or-treaters went home. One by one, those grinning jack-o-lanterns went dark, those orange window lights dimmed, and it was just Jimmy and I wandering the lonely streets. We headed back toward the house. This was where we would normally part ways, with Jimmy heading back on his own. Tonight, though, I remained at his side. He cocked his head again, curious. I squeezed his pinky. # Though I loved Jimmy, he was still my little brother and, often, I treated him as such. Just because I hated the neighborhood bullies didn’t mean I didn’t glean some pointers from their abuse. Sometimes, I’d slap Jimmy around or steal his toys because he’d annoyed me somehow. Other times, I just wanted to feel stronger than someone else. The day of his death, Jimmy had put me in a particularly foul mood. Using the five-fingered discount, I’d gotten comic books from the drug store on York Street and I was looking forward to thumbing through them. Jimmy came rushing into our bedroom, crying because the rats had gotten to his hand-me-down Jason Voorhees costume. The critters had gnawed through the plastic hockey mask and left the (fake) blood-splattered overalls stinking like rat turds. I told him to take it up with Mom and Dad, but he said Mom was passed out and Dad was at the bar, as usual. My mood instantly turned black, not necessarily because of Jimmy, but because, once again, I’d have to pick up the slack for our parents. I cooked most of Jimmy’s meals. I scrubbed the stink off his clothes and got him ready for school every morning while Mom and Dad were off, drunk and doped. All I’d wanted was a night to myself, curled up in bed with some stolen comic books, but they couldn’t stay sober long enough to even give me that much. Somehow, I kept my temper in check. I got him to stop sobbing by yanking the sheet off his bed, cutting out those mismatched eye holes, and draping it over him. “There,” I said. “You’re a ghost now.” His green eyes were visible through the holes in the sheet. His cheeks perked up under the sheet and I could tell he was smiling. “Can you take me trick-or-treating?” he asked. No, I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want him crying again and Mom would have beaten the shit out of me if I let Jimmy wander the neighborhood alone. So we set out into the streets, amongst a legion of Ninja Turtles and Ghostbusters and Barbie dolls brought to life. Though it was simple, he enjoyed his makeshift costume. I was just hoping to get through the night without bumping into our enemies. That was certainly naïve of me. It didn’t take long for them to zero in on us. There were four of them, all older boys. Even the smallest one towered over me. They were wearing clown masks, thin plastic smiling red-nosed clowns that filled my stomach with dread. None of the parents milling about with their kids noticed the brewing confrontation, not with the dozens of trick-or-treaters clogging the sidewalk. Jimmy clutched his candy bucket to his chest. One of the bullies reached for it, and that was when I snapped. I couldn’t help it. I might have been pissed off at him for dragging me out here, but this was Jimmy’s favorite night of the year. I couldn’t watch some assholes ruin it for him. I swung, hard. My fist connected with the bully’s face and I heard a loud crunch right before blood trickled down from behind the clown’s visage. I grabbed Jimmy by the wrist and we took off into the throngs of costumed kids. We rounded the next corner and disappeared into an alley. We hid there, holding our breath as the bullies sped past. There was no way they were going to let this go. Two of them would likely roam the neighborhood looking for us, while the other two would lay in wait near our house. “What are we going to do?” Jimmy asked, voice quivering in fear. Every night, right before I blackout, I think about how I should have just squeezed his pinky. But I didn’t. Instead, I blamed him. We wouldn’t have been in this trouble if he hadn’t been such a crybaby back home. That was why, of the dozens of places we could have gone to hide, I chose the river, because I knew he was terrified of the river. # Today, the Delaware riverfront was as gentrified as the rest of the neighborhood. A casino and towering condominiums loomed large and quaint pedestrian walkways were infested with pop-up beer gardens. In our youth, the riverfront had been an industrial graveyard, dominated by long-shuttered factories with stretches of wilderness between them. Stinking sumac trees swayed overhead and plump river rats darted through the bushes. This wasn’t the first time we had to hide back here. Jimmy always hated it. Although the neighborhood lay only a quarter-mile to the west, Jimmy thought the riverfront was too isolated. He feared that if our bullies ever caught us here, they could kill us and no one would ever know. My mood hadn’t improved when we finally reached one of the piers, big gray concrete blocks jutting out fifty feet into the sloshing water, supported by a number of wood pilings underneath. Jimmy remained a few feet behind me, still in his costume, nervously gripping his Halloween bucket. The tide was coming in and he jumped every time he felt a wave hit the pilings beneath us, as if the pier might collapse. But what scared Jimmy the most was the possibility of falling into the water, that those rough green-brown waves might trap him under the pier, where he’d come up for air and smash his face against unyielding concrete instead. “Can we just please try to go home?” he whined. “No,” I snapped back. “Not unless you want those assholes to knock your teeth out.” He lowered his head. “But I don’t like it back here.” Looking at my whimpering little brother, I lost all sense of empathy. After running scared from our bullies, I was eager to assert myself as an alpha. I yanked him toward the edge of the pier. “I’m so tired of you acting like a wimp,” I snarled. I shoved him closer to the edge, where the water sloshed violently ten feet below us. “There’s nothing to be afraid of back here.” “I just want to go home,” he cried, the eye holes in the sheet now rimmed with tears. “Stop being such a pussy!” I shouted then instinctively gave him a stiff right hook to the shoulder. What happened next occurred within seconds, yet in my memory, it seems to play out for an eternity. I’d hit him harder than I meant to. Jimmy dropped his candy bucket then staggered as his shoes got caught in the pool of fabric underfoot. I watched in muted disbelief as he flopped over the pier, arms waving, right before the back of his head cracked against the concrete edge. There was a splash ten feet beneath me and my brother was gone, leaving behind nothing more than a red patch on the concrete and white bubbles breaking the water’s surface. # Pinkies locked, we maneuvered through condominium parking lots and empty beer garden stalls until we reached that old pier. For a moment, my memories blended with the present and I saw myself, cold and shivering and soaked with river water, trudging back toward the neighborhood alone, clutching Jimmy’s candy bucket. I remembered how cold and dark the river was when I dove in, fighting the waves, trying in vain to find my brother before finally giving up. I never told anyone what happened. That night, when I got home, Mom was still passed out and Dad hadn’t come back from the bar yet. I hid my wet clothes then, later, told them that Jimmy had simply run away from me. I was terrified of what would happen if they knew the truth. There was a police search that amounted to nothing. Dad didn’t seem to care very much. Months later, Mom swallowed forty sleeping pills and never woke up. I took to stealing swigs of Dad’s half-empty liquor bottles to soothe my guilt, a habit that had served me ever since. But even that relief has proved fleeting. As Jimmy and I walked along the pier, I tightened my pinky around his, content to die sober. We stood at the edge of the pier. Though I couldn’t see his face, I could tell that he was no less afraid of the river now than he had been twenty-five years ago. Jimmy stepped off the pier and disappeared into the water below. I wondered, once this pier was inevitably torn asunder to make way for a condo or another casino, would Jimmy still resurface on Halloween? If he did, and he ventured into the neighborhood, would he even recognize that the shiny new studio apartments were standing on the grave of our old house? Either way, I was going to make sure that he didn’t go through it alone. I stepped off the pier, just like Jimmy had that night. I cracked the base of my skull against that concrete lip. A lightning flash of pain shot across the world and I crashed hard into the water, pushed at once by the tide under the pier. A wave slammed me against one of the pilings and I felt something snap in my back and, when I tried to scream, filthy river water filled my mouth. Yet, as I was thrashed about under the dock, my consciousness slowly fading, I felt Jimmy’s tiny pinky finger squeezing around my own. I’ve got you. # That happened almost one year ago, last Halloween. Though I wanted nothing more than to slip into a watery slumber with my little brother, he must have felt otherwise. I woke up, weeks later, in a hospital. They removed patches of my skull to relieve the pressure from the brain bleed, courtesy of cracking my head on that concrete lip. My ribs had been shattered to splinters from the paramedics’ vigorous chest compressions. They found me on the road, which meant Jimmy dragged me from the water, across the industrial wilderness, then out to the waiting blacktop. I asked the medics if there’d been a boy in a ratty ghost costume with me when they arrived. They said they hadn’t seen one. Anyway, I’m writing this on the computer at the public library right off Girard Avenue, but I better finish up. The librarian is a real asshole. Doesn’t like it when street bums like me stink up the joint. It’s almost Halloween once again. Jimmy might not want me down in the water with him, but I’m going back to join him, regardless. I’ve got his candy bucket, so we can hit the neighborhood one last time. I’ve also got a box cutter with the sharpest goddamn razors I could find. Once Jimmy slips back into the water, I’m going to open myself up – both wrists, then my carotid artery – and I’m jumping into that green-blue Delaware shitwater right along with him, because I’m Jimmy’s big brother, god damn it. I won’t let him swim alone.
48 points: jesseaknight's comment in In the show St. Elsewhere, a character in the finale is shown to have thought of the whole series, which means he also made up all the shows that had crossovers with St. Elsewhere. This expands into the shows that were mentioned in the shows. There is at this point 419 shows in this universe
44 points: Derosa6037's comment in the longest single set at the laugh factory lasted 7h and 34m (by Dane Cook in 2008).
43 points: astronoob's comment in Margaret Hamilton, NASA's lead software engineer for the Apollo Program, stands next to the code she wrote by hand that took Humanity to the moon in 1969.
42 points: rus_reddit's comment in Rand Paul was the national debt for halloween in 2015. He said it was a very scary costume.
40 points: thejesiah's comment in Close Encounters of the Third Kind Geocache in Northern Italy
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49 points: jesseaknight's comment in In the show St. Elsewhere, a character in the finale is shown to have thought of the whole series, which means he also made up all the shows that had crossovers with St. Elsewhere. This expands into the shows that were mentioned in the shows. There is at this point 419 shows in this universe
45 points: Derosa6037's comment in the longest single set at the laugh factory lasted 7h and 34m (by Dane Cook in 2008).
42 points: astronoob's comment in Margaret Hamilton, NASA's lead software engineer for the Apollo Program, stands next to the code she wrote by hand that took Humanity to the moon in 1969.
42 points: thejesiah's comment in Close Encounters of the Third Kind Geocache in Northern Italy
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The other night I dreamt that I was a in a combination of the last 4 houses I've lived in. In this dream I was waiting for my mother to finish up in the bathroom, I think it was Halloween and we were about to go do something. When all of a sudden I'm outside the house on the street. I saw a bunch of people wearing animal costumes, kind of like fursuits. I then somehow end up back inside but this time I'm naked and the bathroom is empty. A bunch of girls barge into my house wearing fursuits, at that point I remember feeling terrified because I'm naked so I run down the hallway being chased by one of them. The dream cuts to me with the girl that chased me trying to get my mother's attention. My mother is in what I assume is her bedroom but there are two locked doors with windows blocking the way. The girl and I leave the house to catch up with the rest of the girls in animal costumes and then the dream cuts to us outside of what looks like a dilapidated parking garage stairway with no building surrounding it. We go down the stairs which lead to some sort of weird sewer looking room. I fall off of the broken catwalk down into the water where everyone else is. There is a scissor lift next to where I fell which I for some reason decided to use. The scissor lift would go up slowly about 20 feet and then suddenly drop at a terrifying speed. On the wall is what looks like prerequisites for some sort of survival game. I cant remember them all but one of them was lasting for 30 days, there were no rewards for winning. The dream cuts to me looking for the group I was with and I remember feeling extreme dread. I see a glimpse of one of them on a ledge so I pull myself up on it enough to see on top. I see the group up there leaving the sewer room, for some reason I felt like they didn't want anything to do with me so I go the other way, climb up the catwalk and leave the sewer room. I take one last look at the stairway considering going back down and catching up with them but I started to feel an intense fear looking at the stairs so I turn to leave when I noticed everything is covered in a dense black fog, I can't see more than maybe 6'0" in front of me. I then black out and wake up with a box of beer right outside of a prison on top of a huge cliff. The environment around the prison looks like the bike trail in my town merged with the highway that goes toward the casino in Lewiston, Idaho. I see an enormous theme park with a Faris wheel and a lot of lights on the other side of the highway. I painstakingly push the box of beer through the unfenced prison yard when I hear a female voice say over an intercom that I'm on private property and need to leave. The dream ends as soon as I get passed the prison yard. Sorry about the formatting.
Hello Mr Reddit and the REEEEEE army. I originally posted my story in EntitledPeople but I would love to share my story of 4 years of absolute hell (yes, this is permission to make a video of my story), and if anyone wants to read it there also, go ahead. I can guarantee there are a few details there that I forgot to include here, and vice versa. This is the story of a manipulative gaslighting ass (EX, currently 27 M) who saw a girl (me, currently 26) with stars in her eyes and saw an opportunity to crush them one by one. Maybe it can give someone else hope of escaping a bad situation. My story will be split into each year (each year starting with June 13 as that was our dating anniversary), and what happened when. I might not remember exact dates, as my divorce was finalized in 2017, but I will try my hardest to remember. Cast: Me, a hopeless romantic that has grown enough to recognize and not put up with BS...... and EX, the entitled ass whom this entire story is about (things I now recognize as RED FLAGS will be labeled), and others will be introduced when they come up.... TLDR: Gaslighting, narcissistic, manipulative EX preys on my naivete, and makes 4 years become 1950s subservient housewife slavery, forcing me into bedroom activities, and getting angry when I don't cater to every little thing that pops into his ego-inflated head Backstory: I have always lived with my parents. I have also always had a great relationship with them, and we were always close-knit. My siblings (21M, and 19F) never really had as close a relationship with our parents as I did. They always preferred to hang out with their friends rather than their family. I was always the "weirdo" in school and didn't really have friends because middle schoolers can be bitches. My parents had a one-in-a-million relationship, until my dad died this past April. It was pretty much a match made in heaven. They met in 1992 and just KNEW they would be married, and together forever. A week later they started dating. I came along in 1994, but due to some government mumbo-jumbo they couldn't get married or else they would lose their food stamps (they find a loophole a year later, and I pick their wedding date with chocolate pudding covered fingers). They had been married until my dad's death 25 years, and didn't argue EVER (amazing I know, I can hardly believe they were so lucky). I always hoped I would find a love like that. BEFORE DATING: We first met when I was a freshman (15) and he was a sophomore (16). We had gym class together, and would usually talk before the end-of-class bell with a mutual friend R who went to church with me (I no longer go to that church). He was gone a lot, but I didn't really know him back then, so I really didn't care whatsoever. YEAR 1: One day, about a month or so after I turned 19 (either late March or early April 2013), I was at Wal-Mart with my mom, my sister, and a female cousin (who was living with us at the time). We were looking at makeup, nail polish, hair products etc. At this Wal-Mart, the Beauty section was right next to the Pet section. I walked down to the pet section to look at the fish with my little sister, and a mutual friend J1 snuck up behind me and gave me a hug. I noticed EX was with him, along with J1's mom (who is literally batshit crazy), and someone else who I also went to school with, J2. We talked for a good half an hour before I had to find my mom, and they (J1, J2, EX) had to go. I thought nothing else of it. Another month or so later, I got a message on Facebook from EX's brother. He said that EX sent him a letter, and he wanted his brother to send it to me on Facebook. It was sweet, and he said he wanted us to start dating, and he would even ask my parents if he could. He did. In June, he showed up on my front porch (I would later learn that he had come to my house straight from jail, which sweet, simple, hopeless romantic me had no clue was a RED FLAG), I invited him in, and he asked my parents if he could have the honor of dating me. They said yes, and we were exclusive. He was very sweet at the beginning. Always buying me pop (soda, for all you non-Michiganders) and my favorite candy bars. Our first Halloween as a couple was spent with me sick on the couch, and him being allowed to spend the night to take care of me. Our first Christmas as a couple was spent with him in jail for unpaid fines (RED FLAG), and after he got out, we spent the entire next week together from the time I woke up, until I reluctantly crawled into bed. He would come over before I awoke, and he wouldn't leave until I was wrapped in my blanket and I could hear him telling my parents good-night. It was great. In May 2014. he had some problems with his grandma (she wasn't really his grandma. He was living at her house with his cousins (C, the "main" cousin, we add to the cast), and she was THEIR grandma, so EX just called her grandma), so my parents, EX and I had a discussion and my parents said he could move in. So, we move a spare bed into the basement (at this time the cousin we had living with us had moved out, and there were only 3 other people living with us), sharing with another couple (also cousins) living with us. So, after he moved in and being young and in love, we started THAT (this will come into play later). I soon found out that he had a "job" of sorts, helping his cousin's dad (CD) cutting down trees and splitting them for firewood (reliable side income for many in Michigan). Over the next 4 months, he would go to help them with firewood. Sometimes I went with him, just to get out of the house. YEAR 2 (starting 3 weeks or so after EX moved in): Within those 4 months mentioned in the previous "year", any time I went with him, CD would take his wife, C, and EX to "reward EX and C at the casino for hard work"....... And CD and wife would have me babysit their 4 brats while they were gone (putting it nicely, they were the definition of crotch goblins). So I didn't go much. One day in September we YEAH, and I went home the day after. He came home the day after I did. (NOTE: THIS IS WHERE THAT COMES INTO PLAY) About 3 weeks later, we went to his cousin's mom's (CM) place, because EX had agreed to help his cousin (C2, C's younger brother) clean his room. I was kind of chatting, small talk with CM. I had mentioned to her that we YEAH a few weeks ago. She asked me if I wanted to take a pregnancy test. I said "Sure, why not. Can't hurt. The worst is it could be negative" (ever since I was a little girl, I had always wanted to be a wife and mother). So I peed on it, and BIG REVEAL, IT'S POSITIVE! Very faint, but enough to tell it was there. I told EX because he was done helping C2, and he was just as happy as I was. But at the same time, he kept saying "Your dad's gonna kill me, isn't he?" So we went home. I pulled my parents out on the porch, and EX and I break the news "You're gonna be grandparents!" They were a little disappointed that we didn't wait until we were married (but they didn't either, so......). The next day I made an appointment to see my family doctor to confirm. He confirmed I was about 4 weeks along. He also said that since most of the OBs and midwives around that took medicaid did an ultrasound on the first visit, they would schedule my first visit about 7 or 8 weeks. I finally made an appointment for a midwife visit and starting WIC. I passed the next 3 weeks telling my friends and family. Everyone screamed with excitement, and offered congratulations. Finally my midwife appointment came! I excitedly relayed all the needed information, took in all the information she gave me, and then we headed down the hall to the ultrasound room. Imagine my surprise when I see on the screen TWINS!!!! EX was in the room with me first, and then I asked him to get my mom, but tell her it's a surprise. My mom came in the room and she was also very excited. But it was not all happy. Only one twin was alive. The other measured as though it had died within the previous few days. But still, I had a child inside me. I was growing a life. And I felt great. I had a relatively easy pregnancy. No morning sickness, no back pain, not really anything uncomfortable. But it was after my 2nd or 3rd midwife appointment that EX decided to go to CD's place more often (RED FLAG). His excuse was always "I don't want to stress you out" or "They need my help with XYZ". At the time I thought, ok, whatever. I guess he thinks it helps me. But no, I found out that every single time he went over there, they went to the casino, and he spent every last penny that he was "paid" for "helping" (RED FLAG). We finally ended up getting married a couple weeks after my 21st birthday (side note: I kept telling everybody "I can't drink, you do it for me!"). After we got married, I had a few labor scares. At the end of April, I had another labor scare (I was only at 34 weeks). Mom and EX took me to the hospital, and I was then sent to another hospital that had a NICU just in case my baby came early. EX got mad at ME for constantly having to drop everything and "take my ass to the hospital", and then said "I'm going to CD's house, I'm not talking to you, and when I get back this shit better be under control" (RED FLAG). Like, dude, I CANNOT CONTROL THIS!!!! Everything settled down, and at my next midwife appointment, they told me that I had mono, and that is what caused my labor scare. Little did I know that shortly after that I really would go into labor.... May: Labor started around 2AM. I woke EX, and he kept saying "Go back to bed". Uh, no, this is the real thing, no mistake this time. I wouldn't let it go, so we both got up. I was excited to finally meet my baby! We woke up his mom (EXM) (who had come for my baby shower 2 days prior, and we were letting her stay for 2 weeks). My dad was already awake, as he always had intuition about stuff like that. I remember when we walked out of our bedroom, my dad immediately said "You're in labor aren't you?" So I gave him a wide smile and a thumbs up. I called Maternity, to the midwife on call and explained what was going on. She said to come in, and that it sounded like it was go time. I told her that I would let my mom finish her shift at work, and we would be in shortly after. She said to call her before we leave, and she would let staff on the floor know that she would have a patient here in about 2 hours. After my mom pulled in the driveway, EX and I met her outside and I said "Don't bother turning the van off. It's time". From 2AM, 19 1/2 hours later my beautiful baby girl was born. My mom was the hero of the day, not EX. He went down to the main road every hour or so to smoke a cigarette. He slept through my worst pain because "he was tired" (no shit, you think I'm not????) (RED FLAG both). My mom was by my side the whole time. She held my hand through everything. Asshole EX couldn't be bothered with caring for his laboring wife..... Hell, my mom even cut my daughter's cord because "Damn that's gross!!!".... Through our next 48 hours (hospital policy), he was at the main road to smoke, or walking to Taco Bell more than he was in my room. It was like he didn't even care. When my mom came to pick all 3 of us up, she brought with her my grandma (my maternal grandmother), and EXM. Funny side note: while waiting for my release paperwork to be brought around, EXM told EX "I didn't know you could make something that cute" (XD). After I was released, EXM paid for all of us to get McDonalds. We got home and everyone was waiting to see my little princess (EX and I ACTUALLY AGREED that no one could post pictures, and that we wouldn't post pictures either, until after we returned home). My other grandma (paternal grandmother) and my aunt were helping my cousin (aunt's daughter, not the same cousin from the beginning of my story) (I also have stories about them, but they will be told some other time) at our house. My aunt and my cousin went to Wal-Mart the previous day to buy a bed (play yard/playpen with bassinet insert) for my baby, as my parents weren't able to buy it yet, so aunt and cousin basically saved them some money by buying my daughter's bed. Everyone oohed and aahed. We were happy. But after the excitement wore off a few days later and everyone went home, EX..... Well..... He was complaining about my siblings spending too much time on games, and tried using force to get them off the games (RED FLAG). A huge fight ensued after my sister basically called him a hypocrite (because in all honesty, he was being one. He was on his own games just as much, if not MORE than my siblings). Things got heated, he went to CD's house, and I went with him (though I now know I should have stayed home because the whole time we were at CD's house, he complained about the fight and tried to defend himself for being in the right.... No, no you were not EX) (RED FLAG). We stayed at CD's house and went back home the next day. Things were kind of tense at home. EX was gone a lot more than usual. After we took his mom back home, everything in our relationship took a turn for the worse. RED FLAGS everywhere. He would be gone all day with his friends, smoking weed and playing Magic the Gathering (a card game my family and I had long given up), or with C and CD. When he was with his friends, he would come home just shortly before or after sunrise. If I was awake he would badger me for YEAH. If I didn't relent, he would huff down to the basement to "relieve himself". That would also happen if I was asleep, or pretended to be. Many times he would fall asleep downstairs and I would have to wake him up to fix himself, to make sure my kid sister (or anyone else for that matter) didn't see him indecently. YEAR 3 (starts when my daughter is about 6 weeks old): RED FLAGS continuing from previous year: Whenever he was gone during the day, or staying with C and CD, he would demand I clean everything on an unwritten list, but who gives a damn if I have to take care of a newborn? I needed to clean first! Let her cry!!! I didn't clean what was on his damn list. I was taking care of my baby, doing my best to give her the best start in life. Oh, no, he didn't care. To him I was nothing more than a slave, put on this earth to cater to his every whim and satisfy his every need. "Take care of the baby on your own time! Worship the ground I walk on!"....... If I didn't have done what HE wanted done, he would yell, punch walls, pretty much everything short of shooting a gun (that if he did, he would be in violation of probation). He would always say "I'm going to CD's house. I don't know how long I'm staying there, but I'm turning my phone off. I'm not messaging you, I'm not calling you. I think I might have them take me to the courthouse so I can file for divorce!" See, every time His Majesty didn't get what he wanted, his number 1 tactic to "get me to change" was threaten divorce (this will be important later). This went on for quite a while. I was starting to realize I was happier when he was gone, but I thought it was because I didn't love him enough..... In mid to late December (maybe around the 20th?) we went to pick up EXM, so she wouldn't have to be alone for Christmas, and she would stay with us until after New Years. On the 23rd, EX got into a verbal fight with pretty much my entire family. With my parents over his constant use of the basement (which EX constantly called "his man cave"). With my uncle, B, over his poor treatment of me, EXM, and my daughter and how he's never home like a man should be. With my siblings, over what I can't remember now, but EVERYONE was pissed off at EX. So he did what he ALWAYS did, he called CD and begged to be picked up. EXM followed us into our bedroom so she could talk with EX. He turned to me (a few times while waiting for CD to get him) and said "Are you gonna be a good wife, and show them that you're on my side, and come with me?"...... No. No, I absolutely will not. We had plans for Christmas Eve, to visit family that we rarely got to see, and DAMMIT I AM NOT SHRUGGING OFF A VISIT WITH MY FAMILY SO YOU CAN THROW A PITY PARTY!!!!! So he left. We took EXM with us to visit my extended family, and everyone enjoyed themselves (I had a nice healthy cry of bottled up emotions over EX's outburst the previous day and him not being there with me). But I felt better afterward and joined my family once again. We all left in high spirits. EX came back early Christmas morning, and acted like everything was fine. It was not. He refused to apologize for anything. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The tension was there to stay. In a couple of months, for our anniversary, he went to CD's house again. This time it was only for a few hours. He came back with pop (soda), my favorite candy bar, and a small bouquet of flowers, trying to erase all his wrongdoings. It didn't work. Those "thoughtful" things were only a bandaid solution to the real problem... Things would only get worse. For the rest of this "year" he was gone more than he was home, "because he couldn't stand being married to a lazy useless wife who doesn't do her job right, or any job at all", but he asked for YEAH less, and for that I was happy. YEAR 4 (starts when my daughter is just over a year old) (Here comes the roller coaster, so buckle up for a long bumpy ride): He was gone 90% of the time. When he was home, he was starting fights with my family over stupid shit. He never apologized for anything. Hell, he STILL never apologizes for anything. But to be fair, I have him blocked on Facebook because of non-stop harassment..... Anyway, it was at this point I became almost apathetic in my marriage and relationship with him. I clung to my family and my daughter. They (and my dogs) were the only things that brought me joy. The final straw was Halloween (which we don't celebrate anymore, because reasons). Now, where I live, getting ready to trick or treat on Halloween is pretty much an all day thing. So I was getting my daughter and myself ready. EX headed toward the door and said "I want X Y and Z taken care of before I get back, or you can just take those damn costumes off right now." I didn't care, so I continued getting my daughter and I ready. He came back and said in a sickeningly sweet voice "You didn't get (tasks) done, but, because I love you sooooooooo much, you can still go. I'm probably gonna be at CD's before you get back, and I'll probably be gone for a couple days, because they need my help." So we went trick or treating. Then when we got back, I went to my bedroom to get my phone, as I had left it home to charge because I didn't have a vehicle charger. I went in my bedroom, and there, sitting on my charging phone, was his wedding ring. I was confused. I was hurt. I called EX, because I thought surely there must be some explanation. "Oh, yeah. It slipped off as I was putting on my jacket"..... Yeah, I called BULLSHIT!!!! That ring was so tight on his finger that it took some serious muscle to pull off. It COULD NOT just slip off. It was put there on purpose. I was stunned, and I ran to my parents for comfort. They dried my tears, and gave me courage. (Here is where the divorce threatening comes into play) They said "Well, if EX wants a divorce, give it to him. You know we're behind you and support you 100%." So I messaged him "I am done. I am leaving your things on the porch. You can get them and then leave." Within 20 minutes, he was in the driveway, trying to sweet talk his way back into my heart. My dad and uncle B were backing me up. I pushed EX away while handing him his things. EX got irate and started yelling, threatening to kick my dad's bad leg, accusing my parents of brainwashing me. No, EX. I haven't seen or thought more clearly in a long time. YOU have been brainwashing me..... The next weekday (I can't remember if it was Nov 1, or what date), I filed for divorce. Due to BS "squatter's rights" (because he lived at our house more than 6 months) my parents had to formally evict him. He had to be out within 30 days. Over the course of November, I spent most of the month at my paternal grandmother's, just down the road, because when I would stay at home, EX would wait until my dad and uncle were asleep, sneak into my bedroom, and sweet talk his way into YEAH. After he finished, he would go to his friend's house, and when my dad and uncle woke up again, they asked me what happened. We all agreed that shouldn't happen anymore. My dad told me that when EX was at home, milking that eviction notice for all it was worth, he would constantly play games on his phone. If he noticed anyone watching him, he would cry and mourn our marriage. Whenever EX left, my dad would call grandma's house and tell me it was safe to come back home. I would hand my daughter over to my mom, and get on the computer to check Facebook messages and whatnot. As soon as EX saw that I was available and online, he would rush back, and I would rush back to my grandma's. When there was about a week left before his final date, he walked down to my grandma's house. I answered the door, and EX was all smiles for my daughter. He was talking to her, but it was loud and directed at me "Daddy's got a lawyer, I'm getting a job soon, and my own apartment. Daddy's doing a good job to get you back!" I took my daughter back from him, and my grandma took her from me (note: fiery redhead with a temper to match) while she said to him "THE HELL YOU ARE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE ON MY DAMN PORCH?!?!".... and a loud argument ensued. My cousin (aunt's daughter) and her kids were also staying for a little while (her husband has a job that he's only home on the weekends). I brought all 3 kids inside, mine and her two, while grandma, cousin, and aunt were giving EX the ass-chewing of a lifetime. As he walked away down the road, grandma yelled after him "YOU STEP FOOT ON THIS PROPERTY AGAIN, I'M CALLING THE COPS ON YOUR SORRY ASS!". A few days later, he came back. This time it was night. Cousin's two kids were sleeping, my daughter was sleeping on my shoulder. I took my daughter inside when I saw him because I knew there would be yelling. There was. A lot. The cops were called, and they agreed to take him back to my parent's house because "with each party of a domestic dispute at different addresses, there's nothing we can do, except to return the wrong party to the rightful location" (fucking cops in my area, dumb as a box of rocks.....) So, EX finished out his notice, and had a memo notarized saying he would give up all rights to the house and property at (our address). For many nights in a row, I sat awake in terror, because I could smell weed outside my window. One night, he knocked on the window at 3AM begging me to let him in. It was because of that night, that my daughter (only about 19 months old at this point) began to suffer from night terrors. Sometimes, she still does to this day.... I woke my dad, the cops were called, and EX was caught a few houses down the street from matching boot prints. Every time I smelled weed outside my window, I woke my dad, and we called the cops. It took 3 times doing that before he went to jail. When he got out again, he didn't sneak around outside my window anymore. He just rode his bike by my house all the time, camped in our bushes out in the backyard (but we never actually caught him doing that, as he wasn't there at daybreak). When it was close to my birthday, EX decided that he was going to start his visitation AN OVERNIGHT THE DAY BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY......... I was devastated. It shattered my heart. I knew he only wanted to do that BECAUSE it was going to be my birthday... I cried, but I got my daughter ready that morning. She screamed bloody murder when he took her out the door with a smug look on his damn face. Throughout the day, he called the house to brag. Every one of my family members were in tears. Then, gloriously, EX called and asked if someone could pick them up. My heart was mended and a million times lighter! My mom, dad, uncle B, grandma, and me piled into the vehicle because I'M BRINGING MY BABY HOME DAMMIT!!!!!! We get to where he stayed that night, and my daughter was overjoyed to see me. He tried to be sneaky and kiss me, but I nipped that in the bud. On the way back home, he said "When we get back, she's sleeping in the living room with me. It's still my visit." When we got home he changed his tune "Ok, she can sleep in the bedroom"... I slept very well that night. Throughout the next 2 months, he would take his visits, but call me shortly after his time started or before his time ended giving me some excuse why he couldn't finish. One overnight visit, I seriously wish he would have called me, because he messed up her mental health.... The day after that overnight visit when he brought her home, he bragged that he got her to eat hamburger..... by shoving it down her throat (which she now has PTSD from, and is afraid to try new foods). And he bragged he got her to sleep by herself...... by shutting her in a dark, strange bedroom where she screamed from 8PM-2AM until she exhausted herself (which is why she now will not sleep without her TV, and is currently terrified of her bedroom at night because the cord to the VCR broke). The next day visit after that, he decided he would take at our house. Everything was going as well as could be expected. I left my phone on the table as I took my daughter to the bedroom to change her diaper. When I had finished, EX glared at me from across the room........ Then I noticed my phone in his hand. "Who the hell gave you the right to look through my damn phone?!?!?!" At this, he started screaming like a banshee "Our divorce is not fucking final. You are still my wife. I have every right to look through your phone, and you are talking to another guy?!?!?! WE'RE STILL MARRIED! THIS MEANS YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME!!!" At this, my dad woke up and bellowed in his deepest voice "YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT MY DAUGHTER OR MY GRANDDAUGHTER IN MY HOUSE! YOU DO NOT LIVE HERE ANYMORE! YOU CAN GET YOUR SHIT AND LEAVE THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!" I comforted my daughter because obviously a booming voice terrifies a child. He missed his next two visits. His visit after that, he asked me if I would stay with him and my daughter at his friend's house. I agree, if only to protect my daughter. That was a BAD mistake. We went over there, and EX sat my daughter in front of his friend's daughter's toys, and led me to the couch. He tried to cuddle with me, my resolve melted, and I let it happen, which I didn't want. When I finally left, he asked me if I could come for the next visit too. I did, to protect my daughter. One day in April, he sweet talked me into reconciliation. I really wish I hadn't, but I digress. It was a month and a half of staying overnight at EX's friend's house at least twice a week. I hated it. The only part I liked was when EX's friend put him in his place...... The very last time I visited with him, was May 27, 2017. My brother graduated high school. So did EX's friend's sister (S). EX showed up at the school gym. I thought he was being thoughtful when he held my daughter through the ceremony. But it was not thoughtful at all. Afterward, when everyone was trying to leave, he said to my daughter "Tell mommy bye and you'll see her in a few days!" OH HELL NO! I tried grabbing her out of his arms but he tightened his grip. "Uh, uh, uh, you can get her if you come to my friend's house for the night"..... So I did. S was sitting at his table drinking a beer in celebration. As I picked up my daughter I thought to myself "Young lady, you are not old enough to drink. I should call the cops right now. I mean they're just across the street". Things were going fine. I tried keeping to myself. After everyone that needed to left, and everyone else settled down to sleep, I laid quietly for a few hours. At around 6:30 or so in the morning, I got outerwear and shoes on myself and my daughter, and we snuck home. Thank God my dad was awake and unlocked the door for me. The two of us took a long nap, and I awoke to a message from EX "Hey, you need to apologize to S." "Why? What did I do?" "She and a couple other people heard you saying that she's way too young to be drinking" "But I didn't say it. I may have thought it, but I didn't SAY it." (Were they all mind-readers?!?!) "I don't care if you said it or not. Get your ass over here and apologize" (Why? You never apologized to my family for shit we all heard you say) "Fine, I'll be over in a bit" I left my daughter with my mom at home so that there wouldn't be any incentive for EX to entice me to stay. So I went back there, and apologize "Hey S, I'm sorry. I don't believe I said that, but you heard me, so I offer my apologies." And then I left to walk back home again. Through the next month, I pretty much gave myself house arrest. I didn't step foot outside my house, unless it was going to Wal-Mart. FINAL YEAR PORTION (June - October): When I finally decided to venture out into town, my mom, daughter, and I were going to meet up with her best friend, my auntie (Sh) her husband (T) and her 4 kids at a local park. Everything's going well, until speak of the devil, EX shows up. I handed my daughter over to my mom. EX tried to kiss me (in hindsight, I should have slapped him, and I would have had witnesses it was self defense), and he had a fit because "I didn't trust him with his own daughter" (damn right I don't!). He didn't leave, despite multiple warnings T would call the cops. EX didn't leave, so T made good on his threat and called the cops. Cop arrived, we all explained we were enjoying a cookout until EX started harassing us. Then EX stated outright "If I get my hands on (daughter), I'm gonna kidnap her". Cop told him to go to the court if he wanted his daughter so bad. He also told us that since we didn't rent the pavilion, EX had every right to be there, same as we did. So EX sat down with a smug look on his face, mentally gloating "I won, you can never get rid of me." I finally had enough, so I went to my mom's van under the guise of changing my daughter's diaper and her clothes, but really, to hide and hope EX would go away. T asked my mom to borrow her keys, went to the van, and said "Let's go for a ride". So we did. When we returned to the park, my dad and uncle B were there with mom and Sh. Dad asked about what happened, and when I got to the part about EX trying to kiss me, he said "Report his ass for sexual harassment". Dad helped me call the non emergency line of the sheriff's department. They sent out a police officer to mom, me, Sh, and T to give us statements to fill out, and told us to take them to the sheriff's department when we were done. On July 7, a police officer stopped by to let us know that because our 4 statements lined up with each other, that EX was arrested that morning. It was then that we all banded together, without threat of EX, to protect my daughter and I. Sh took us to the courthouse the next day, and I stopped the reconciliation. A few days later, my dad took me to the courthouse and I got a PPO (personal protection order) and he was not allowed within 100 feet of me or my daughter. He was arrested a few times for PPO violation. He sent me message after message on Facebook, and that was also PPO violation. When he was arrested for that, we had a hearing at the courthouse (for what exactly I can't remember), but as he was hauled up the stairs, he yelled to me "HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY BITCH" (yes, yes I am). The friend of the court (bitch on a power trip who thinks all moms are petty bitches) yelled at me about "the stunt I just pulled, having EX arrested while he was waiting for the hearing as I should have been"..... To be completely honest, in my mind I was throwing rose petals and making petal angels. It was sweet revenge after years of mental torture. We all celebrated that one. It was the last time I saw him (the last time my daughter saw him was the day at the park). After that, and serving his sentence, from what I heard, one of my relatives (don't know exactly which one as I have dozens in that area alone) scared the daylights out of EX by telling him "You leave OP and that baby alone, because you don't want to know what will happen". So EX has not tried to contact me whatsover, in any capacity, in over 3 years. No fake Facebook accounts, no asking friends to message me, nothing. I am happy to say that I am currently in a long distance relationship with a man who is the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of EX. Thanks for reading my story. I know it was long, but I feel better getting it off my chest to complete strangers on the internet :)
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