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Should I get on with life and hope therapy will help me on the way? (newly diagnosed)
Hey everyone.
Im new here and ive made a few posts but I wanted to get an outside view of where I am at the moment, maybe some tips too.
I took 2 years off college and decided to drop out and start a new degree next year, where ill be 23. My family is opposed to this obviously, a cause of a lot of anxiety for me. College itself was really difficult for me, partly due to my social anxiety anxiety towards exams and not enjoyig my degree. I think if i do go ahead with what i want (degree subject) I will enjoy it but will still struggle with the other aspects of college.
The last year i spent in limbo, trying to force myself to go back to college, after i started therapy though i realised theres no way in hell im going back, thankfully.
Ive started with a new therapist, but im wondering should I wait till i start healing and at a solid place before i go back out. it feels like life might pass me by.
I have no idea how ive survived all these years on my own to be honest.
Part of me thinks i should wait because learning about cptsd etc has made me more sensitive.
I also wana just go ahead with it, im not sure.
Ive kinda put everything on hold in my life, like social, romantic and work and pretty isolated atm, i guess i grew tired and exhaused from being anxious 24/7 365 for a decade or more.
Its so hard forcing myself to go through my anxiety...i dont know. should i push myself? which sounds like my inner critic or should I wait until im comfortable with my new therapist to work on this dilemma
I realise I had a similar conversation with my first therapist and this whole post just summarizes 12 weeks worth of therapy haha
funny how i felt so confident after 12 weeks and now im in a fucked up place mentally.
i guess breaks from therapy really do suck
Conclusion: Im just in a shitty place, im overthinking shit and i know ill be able to face the world im just relapsing atm.
submitted by /u/Teetheman to r/CPTSD[link] [comments]
Low fps with i7-8700
I´m getting low fps or severe fps drops in games that by all rights should not be dropping below 100 fps with my rig. Battlefield 4 dips to below 60, Rise of the Tomb Raider, Far Cry 4 and Monster Hunter World also go below 60. My current setup is :
Intel i7-8700
Nvidia GTX 980
Ripjaws V 16Gb DDR4-3000Mhz
Asus Prime B360-Plus Mobo
Windows 10
I read somewhere that the Nvidia HD Audio drivers cause this problem but I think that my cpu is being bottelnecked by the gpu. Any ideas on waht´s causing this issue?
Also, my mouse is dying (Razer Deathadder chroma) and i´ll have to buy a new one. Anyone got some recommendations on good gaming mice up to 70-80€?
submitted by /u/Stradivorius to r/pcmasterrace[link] [comments]
How do I [26F] deal with a BFF [27F] who is frequently flaky and hurtful?
Hey, all. I'm a 26 year old female, and I have been BFF's for over 9 years with this other girl (I'll call her BFF from here on out). We went to college together, were sorority sisters and roommates, and generally I consider her to be my family. My whole family does, actually; she's like another real sister to me. Most of the time, she's a wonderful friend - loving, thoughtful, supportive. I try to be the best friend I can be to her, too. We've gone through a lot together and always been united. But BFF has this problem where she'll just suddenly and inexplicably go "dark" - no texts, no calls, nothing. We've talked about it before, and she's always apologized and said she gets overwhelmed sometimes and just needs to disconnect. I totally respect that.
However, I'm in a rough spot in my life right now, one where I really need my BFF. I've told her this openly, said how grateful I was to have her support. She's asked how can she help me - do I need her to come over and stay with me awhile? (we live states apart). Do I want her to mail me a care package? Do I want her to take over handling some of the stressful stuff in my life for awhile? I told her I just needed a listening ear sometimes, but that I had everything under control and that I wanted to plan a visit to see her soon and de-stress. We planned a skype "date" to hang out, drink mimosas and watch our favorite TV shows. However...she never showed. She didn't answer my texts or calls. I wasn't mad at the time - just texted her jokingly under the assumption that she'd overslept and we'd reschedule. I never heard back from her.
That was two weeks ago. I haven't heard ANYTHING from her. At first I was genuinely worried, so I called her roommate - she's alive, she's fine. She's just not answering me. She's updating social media with pics of some new boy of hers that she's obsessed with, but not opening my snaps and leaving my texts on "read". I'm just so hurt because I don't know what I did wrong to cause this, or in what world it's normal to just totally ghost people. And it's not just me - our mutual friend (pretty much our "third BFF" in our friendship, she was also a college/sorority friend of ours) has been iced out too.
If this were a one-time thing, I'd chalk it up to her being a little bit of a bad communicator. But she did this about three years ago out of the blue and didn't "snap out of it" for FOUR MONTHS until I literally showed up on her doorstep demanding to know what was wrong with her. She does this to her friends a LOT - without any clear reason. She's lost countless friends over it in the time I've known her.
I really, really don't know how to handle it. My boyfriend says to just let her be, and she'll come around when she comes around. He says bombarding her with texts/calls/snaps is creepy and not okay. But I miss my friend. I'm worried about her. I don't understand why she thinks it's okay to abandon her friendships, *especially* when I just told her for the first time in years that I really needed her and was grateful for her friendship. This time, for some reason, I am *MAD* about it. I sent her what I felt was a really understanding text last week: "Hey, BFF. What's up...are you alright? I know this happens sometimes but I just wanted to tell you that it's really hurtful to me when you disappear from my life for extended periods of time with no warning. It really makes me feel pretty crappy. I miss talking to you every day, and I don't understand why this happens. Can you please just talk to me about it? Or, if you want, we don't have to address it at all - but this radio silence is so weird. Please?"
Nothing.
Reddit...what would you do?
TL;DR: BFF (more of a sister) randomly and routinely just disappears from my life for extended periods of time, makes me feel lonely and hurt. How do I handle it?
submitted by /u/missoms92 to r/relationships[link] [comments]
Data show home ownership in Victoria remains elusive
Victoria remains a city of renters, and No. 2 on the list of Canadian cities with the fewest homeowners, according to numbers from Statistics Canada.
Compiled by online real estate blog Point2Homes, the numbers show Victoria hasn’t changed much over the past 16 years, with homeowners making up 39 per cent of the population in 2016. It was 38 per cent in 2001.
Only Montreal had fewer homeowners, at 37 per cent, while Vancouver had a homeownership rate of 47 per cent in 2016 and was ranked third.
It’s down to the geographic reality of the city, said Victoria Real Estate Board president Kyle Kerr. “The city of Victoria is a small, dense area,” he said. “The design of the city and downtown offers more apartments and condos, more densified properties which work for university students and service industry workers. The makeup of the city of Victoria is geared to rentable situations.”
Kerr said when you look around the region, the numbers change significantly in places such as Langford, which has close to 80 per cent homeowners, and Saanich, at more than 70 per cent.
Kerr said that is because there is more land which makes the cost of home ownership more affordable “And it allows [the municipalities] to offer more diverse options of housing,” Kerr said. “If we want to encourage more home ownership we need to work down that path to densify.”
And right now, Kerr said, the region is missing a level of housing — townhomes, duplexes and triplexes — seen in other centres. “That middle segment of property that would allow more people to get into home ownership and out of rentals,” he said.
Kerr said the measures designed to cool down hot real estate markets and moderate prices — new mortgage rules, taxes and restrictions — can often work against home ownership.
“The people that affects the most are entry-level people who want to be homeowners,” he said.
According to Point2Homes, nationwide home ownership rates dropped in 88 of the country’s largest 100 centres, the first time in more than 45 years.
In B.C., the rate, according to Statistics Canada’s 2016 numbers, was 68 per cent, a slight increase from 66.3 per cent in 2001, though down from the 70 per cent recorded in 2011.
Nanaimo saw one of the biggest drops between 2011 and 2016, as its home ownership rate dropped 5.9 percentage points to 68 per cent, placing it behind only Waterloo, Ont., for the largest decline since 2011. Waterloo dropped 7.2 points to 69 per cent.
According to Point2Homes, the change is reflective of the economy as a whole.
The blog suggested the slowdown in China’s economy, felt around the world, the collapse of oil prices and the reduced demand for Canada’s natural resources played a role.
It said Canada’s slowdown in turn had an effect on wages and reduced the consumer’s purchasing power, while in some centres home prices continued to rise leading to the decline in homeownership rates.
submitted by /u/beanloaf21 to r/VictoriaBC[link] [comments]
Hooker
This wasn't Lover's Lane. Honestly, it never was. The Reynolds family's old driveway was a long stretch of dirt that led up to a dilapidated two-story country home. A home surrounded by a huge forest. This was the boondocks. Far from any major highway. Far from civilization. All but ignored save for the intermittent infiltration of drunk juvenile delinquents or other unsavory visitors.
This late at night, the scene was quiet and absent of life. You couldn't even hear noises from the nocturnal wildlife. The forest seemed about as abandoned as the dismal yard.
On the dirt road running past the property, stray lights appeared out of the darkness like an apparition. Headlights that got closer and closer at a slow and steady pace. Finally, the clunker Toyota creeped its way up on to the driveway.
Shitty rock music thumped from inside. On an otherwise hideous car, the speakers were quite impressive. Probably worth more than the car itself.
*
Inside the Toyota, Matt Brown switched off the ignition. His crew cut and countless tattoos highlighted his tough guy persona. Or wannabe-tough guy persona, that is. A dirty wife-beater showed off his muscular physique. Long days at the fitness center and long nights at the bar were evident. Matt was a bad motherfucker. Or at least that was his front. And most everyone in Stanwyck, Georgia believed it.
With a cigarette dangling from his lip, Matt killed the headlights. He left the radio on, letting his shitty early-2000s rock music air out through the night. Nickelback, Creed, Lifehouse. Seemingly a collection lifted from Now That's What I Call Music Volume Ten. Matt's "glory days."
In the passenger seat sat Julie, an awkward and pretty twenty-something. She kept her arms folded. Her clothes didn't fit well, but even they couldn't hide the large breasts that had made Matt hit the brakes faster than the glow of a deer's eyes.
And Julie knew why. New pussy on Prinze Road was hard to come by. Especially young pussy. A fine young black girl amongst a sea of drug addicts and desperate single moms was gonna stand out. Even past midnight.
But Julie wasn't sure she made the right decision. Her uneasy eyes scanned the inside of Matt's Toyota. The car was so ugly. Empty beer bottles and protein bar wrappers were everywhere. The door handles and seats stickier than a movie theater's floor. What a fucking mess, she thought.
The constant shouting vocals and shrieking guitars from the radio weren't helping her nerves any either. The speakers were bombastic and unrelenting.
Relaxed in his domain, Matt took another drag as he rolled down the windows.
Julie looked out the windshield. Even in the darkness, the Reynolds house could be seen like a foreboding castle off in the distance. Two stories of Southern Gothic nightmare.
The windows were down, but it was still hot in the car. The summer air provided no relief from Matt's secondhand smoke either.
Disgusted, Julie coughed. The car was flooding up like a chimney. The heat, the smoke, and the awful rock music was overwhelming her. The Toyota had turned into a claustrophobic haze.
Julie glared at Matt. "Do you mind?"
Matt chuckled. "What?" He took another sly drag. "You can't handle it?"
Annoyed, Julie looked back at the house.
"Look, babe, just chill," Matt added.
"Fuck this..."
"It must cost extra for the smokers, huh," Matt quipped.
"It should cost extra just to be with you," Julie replied in an angry tone.
Glad to be getting under her skin, Matt chuckled like a schoolyard bully. "Whoa, there, Cinderella, let's not get carried away."
He leaned in closer toward Julie. Close enough for her to smell the cigarettes and cheap alcohol radiating from his disgusting breath. "Just remember who's the bitch and whose got the money," Matt stated. "Okay."
Julie didn't even look at him. She didn't want to. It's not like he was gonna get more attractive. Or any less gross.
Taking another drag, Matt leaned back in his seat. He glanced at the radio and smiled.
Julie kept her eyes on the house. Somehow the eerie home was a more attractive sight than the man paying her to fuck him.
"Let's get this party started, shall we," Matt stated. He turned up the radio, blasting that terrible rock music for all the rural area to hear. "Yeah!" He rocked his head to the beat like he was back with the rest of the class of 2003.
This is it! Julie thought. She could handle the cigarette smoke and even the crass comments. But not Lifehouse on full blast.
With rebellious fury, Julie reached over and turned the volume down.
"Whoa, what the fuck!" Matt yelled. He tossed his cig out the window.
Killed the volume and made him toss the cig, Julie realized. Two birds with one stone.
"Why'd you turn it down!" Matt hurled at her.
"Look, I don't like it!" Julie shouted. She traded glares with Matt as she folded her arms once more. At this volume, at least the music was at least tolerable. "You got me out here in the middle of bumfuck Georgia and you keep smoking and playing this shittyass music."
With defiant glee, Matt turned the radio back up.
Julie shook her head in dismay.
"I'm just setting the mood, baby," Matt said to her, believing the statement would comfort her. Grinning, he leaned back in his seat.
Disgusted, Julie just glared at him.
Matt cackled at her glower. "Hey, fifty bucks is fifty bucks." Airing out his trashiness, he grabbed his crotch. "Sooner or later, you're gonna have to earn that money."
The sight was so pitiful even Julie had to smirk.
Matt gave her a defensive glare. "What the fuck's so funny?"
"You," Julie replied. She reached over and hit the radio button. Her only chance at escaping Matt's post-grunge CD purgatory.
"What the fuck!" Matt yelled as he leaned forward.
Demi Lovato's pop music pleased Julie with the gratification of water to a desert straggler. She flashed a smile at Matt. "Much better."
Matt reached toward the radio. "Fuck this gayass shit-"
Battling for control, Julie swatted his hand away with a loud thump of a hit. As if Julie had used a club.
Yelling in pain, Matt drew his hand back. "Ow, what the Hell was that for!"
"Sorry," Julie muttered.
Cackling, Matt looked at her with hungry eyes. "Geez, you tough for a little girl." He rubbed his hand like a child trying to ease the sting of a leather belt. "Pretty damn strong."
"Thanks." Nonchalant, Julie turned Demi up just a little more.
Matt cringed at the hook-fueled chorus.
Julie noticed. "Just setting the mood," she quipped.
"Well, if it does that," Matt began. He turned the pop song up more. "Then I can handle it."
"Hmm, can you?" Julie asked, her voice hitting a sultrier tone.
Even if she was obviously forcing it, Matt rejoiced at the flirtation. "I think so." Slinking toward Julie like a stealthy predator on prey, Matt leaned in closer. "I'm just wondering if you can handle me."
Julie smirked. What a loser. "I think I'll be just fine." She looked away from Matt, leaving him hanging as if he were a desperate geek on prom night.
Trying to play everything off, Matt forced a laugh. "Alright, I see what you're doing."
As Demi Lovato's vocals faded away into the night, Julie looked toward the radio. What's next on 98.9... she wondered.
Matt placed a rough hand on Julie's shoulder.
Startled, she looked right at his greasy face.
"But you ain't fooling me, sexy," Matt said. He gave Julie's shoulder a tight squeeze.
Julie shook him off like he was an unwanted bug. A hypnotic song by The Weeknd began to play. But Matt's creepy persistence had distracted Julie away from her pop station.
"Hey, come on," Matt pleaded.
"You're going too fast, man!" Julie protested. "Just fucking chill."
Angry, Matt put a finger to her face. "No, you fucking chill! I ain't paying you to pussyfoot around all night!"
"Fuck you, man!"
Before Matt could give her another insult, irritating beeps erupted from the radio. EEERRR! EEERRR! Then a dial tone-like static engulfed the car for a few moments.
"Ugh!" Julie yelled in dismay as she covered her ears.
Grumbling, Matt looked toward the radio. "Great fucking timing." He reached toward the volume knob.
Julie swatted his hand away with another hard hit. Return of the club.
"Ow!" Matt exclaimed.
"Don't change it."
The static ended with a reporter's deliberate monotone of a voice. As if a robot had overtaken the airwaves. "We interrupt this program for an important announcement," the reporter stated.
Julie listened to every word. Her focus reminiscent of a kid from the 1930s listening to their favorite serial.
"Man, change this shit!" Matt grumbled.
"Shut up!" Julie commanded him.
Julie's strong tone managed to quash Matt's temper for now.
"We have breaking news out of Stanwyck, Georgia," the reporter went on. "Local authorities have confirmed that a patient has escaped from the Chattahoochee Mental Hospital. The patient is a convicted murderer and killed a guard before escaping the hospital. They're believed to be suffering from a severe case of schizophrenia."
Horror hit Julie's face. Gone was the street-wise toughness. Enter uneasy fear.
"The patient is believed to have escaped around nine o' clock tonight and is considered very dangerous," the reporter continued.
Captivated yet terrified, Julie leaned in closer toward the radio. Just in case she missed anything.
"Repeat, a dangerous patient has just escaped from the Chattahoochee Mental Hospital," said the reporter.
Matt glowered at Julie. With each word from the radio, his inner fury only intensified. Like he was jealous of the public service announcement.
Even the radio newsman's voice started to crackle with a sense of panic. "Police say the suspect has a hook for a right hand and was last seen heading downtown-"
A swift turn of the knob killed the PSA for good.
"Hey!" Julie yelled. She glared at Matt as he leaned back in his seat. "I was listening to that!"
"Yeah, yeah," Matt said with a smirk. "But I didn't pay you money to just listen to the Goddamn radio, baby."
Behind nervous eyes, Julie looked out at the abandoned Reynolds house. Darkness was everywhere. They were so isolated.
Matt cackled at Julie's lingering unease. "What? You scared?" he teased.
Julie glared at him.
"Aw, don't be," Matt retorted. With the bravura of a trashy Don Juan, he leaned in toward her once more. "We're just getting started, hon."
The comment chilled Julie almost as much as the breaking news. Turning her attention away from Matt, she looked back at the old house. A momentary distraction from intimacy with this fucking creep.
Matt put an arm around her. "Hey, I'll protect you from the big bad psycho."
His touch was rough and the opposite of soothing. Like Julie had stumbled into a cobweb. Disgusted, Julie pulled herself away from Matt. "Ugh, get off me!"
Matt threw up his hands. "What the fuck, bitch!"
"I told you, you're creeping me out!"
"What the fuck, really?"
"I'm fucking scared, man!" She looked out the windshield. The eerie setting wasn't making her feel any more comfortable. "I don't like it here. I've got a bad feeling about it."
"Oh yeah, like what?" Matt challenged. His patience was wearing thin. Much like his hormones.
Julie's eyes scanned the abandoned property looming before them. In the darkness, who the fuck knows what's out there, she thought. There could be anyone or anything lurking in the shadows. And they can see us. "It feels like somebody's watching us."
"Sounds hot."
A subtle panic running through her, Julie glared at him. "I'm serious!"
"Yeah, well, I'm still waiting." Matt reached out and caressed Julie's face.
She cringed at the harsh touch. All his rugged fingers felt like sandpaper against her soft flesh.
"I didn't come all the way out here just to get scared now, did I?" Matt said in his softest tone yet. A softness that felt dishonest and dangerous. Like the voice a cold-blooded kidnapper makes to sound more sympathetic.
Breaking away from Matt's rugged touch, Julie looked back toward the overgrown yard. "Do you think the police already looked out here?" she asked, worried.
Groaning, Matt leaned back in his seat. "Come on, really..."
Julie faced him. "Do you?"
Matt cracked a smile. "I don't know, probably." Giving it another go, he sat up, getting face-to-face with his target. "Either way, you're safe with me, alright. You know I'll protect you."
Her face blank, Julie didn't say anything.
"Say, why don't you-" Matt began.
Horror conquering her, Julie pointed down the dirt road. "Oh my God, what the Hell's that!"
"What?" Confused, Matt turned.
Both of them saw a moving faint light off in the distance. A dim light that was far enough away to not worry anyone except Julie.
"It's over there!" Julie said. "What the Hell is it!"
Matt grinned at her. "It's just a car, babe."
"No, it isn't!"
"Yes, the fuck it is!" He waved toward the road. "It's out on the damn highway!"
Her vision staying glued to the light, Julie started to see the light going further and further away. It was heading down south. Likely well over sixty-five miles per hour. The idiot's right, she realized.
Matt chuckled. "Maybe it's the hook killer's car."
Julie glared at him. "That's not funny."
"Okay, my bad," Matt replied. He placed a hand on her smooth knee.
Suspicious, Julie eyed Matt's hand. She could make out long scars on it. The mere touch of it felt about as comforting as a cactus.
"Just don't worry about it," said Matt.
"I don't know," Julie commented. She glanced down at her lap. She couldn't even look at the haunting abandoned house at this point. "The radio's got me scared."
"Well, fuck the radio." Matt leaned in closer toward Julie's neck.
Julie looked up at him as he stopped inches away from her neck.
"And fuck the hook man," Matt added.
Right there in the messy car, Julie just stared at Matt. At least he was a distraction from the radio and house, she thought. Hell, he's even kinda cute. For a fucking weirdo.
"Besides," Matt teased. He flashed her a toothy grin. "You should be more worried about me."
The comment elicited even more disgust from Julie.
Matt laughed. "Hell, I might keep you here all night."
Eager to avoid eye contact, Julie gazed off toward the backseat.
Matt leaned in and kissed her neck.
Even his lips felt like needles...
"Just me and you, baby," Matt went on. His voice now exhibited a seductive tone that was more Ed Gein than Cary Grant.
A light reflected upon Julie. Fear hit her eyes.
"We got all night," the oblivious Matt went on.
Moonlight shined off a large blade lying in the backseat. A long hunting knife barely obscured by the abundance of Matt's trash and porno mags.
Nervous, Julie stared at the knife as if she could see her demise in its reflection. The weapon accelerated all the fearful adrenaline she'd had building up inside her since hearing the public service announcement.
Matt kissed Julie's neck, startling her. "I got some handcuffs we could try."
Julie pushed him back. "Stop saying shit like that!"
Matt fell back against the driver's side window. He didn't say anything, too taken aback by Julie's surprising strength.
"You're freaking me out!" Julie told him.
"What, really?" Matt mustered out.
"I told you I'm not in the mood!"
"What the fuck now!" Matt yelled. Angry, he leaned forward in his seat. "First, the radio then the light. Where the fuck I parked. What the Hell's your problem!"
Conflicted emotions ravaged Julie's face. She looked to be either on the verge of tears or a mental breakdown.
"I paid you money, alright!" Matt continued. He waved a finger at Julie. "So you better do what the fuck I tell you, you little bitch!"
Julie looked toward the floorboard, unable to talk through the discomfort.
"Look at me, Goddammit!" Matt demanded. He snatched Julie's arm.
Julie confronted the monster. "Just take me home!" she shouted. In one quick motion, she pulled away from him.
Her strength continued to surprise Matt.
"Drive me back to town!" Julie went on. "I'm ready to go home!"
"No. You fucking owe me."
"I don't owe you shit, creep! You can have your fucking money!"
A harsh glare overtook Matt's face. Gone was the smug smile.
"You Goddamn pig!" Julie went on. "I shouldn't have gotten in here with your creepyass to begin with! You're fucking disgusting!"
Snapping in a frenzied fury, Matt lurched toward Julie.
"No!" Julie yelled.
In an instant, she was overpowered by Matt's rough paws. They ran all over her luscious body, groping her with a compulsive velocity.
Matt's inner animal had been unleashed.
"Get off me!" Julie protested.
Matt grabbed her in a chokehold. "You bitch! I done paid you!"
The struggle ensued for over a minute. The claustrophobic car the setting for this catastrophic conflict. Julie fought tooth and nail.
"You fucking bitch!" Matt hurled at Julie. He held her back against the window, ready to make his repugnant move. He sweated like a pig and breathed heavy, his intense eyes focused on Julie.
Nervous, Julie saw the bulge growing in his pants.
Matt reached toward his belt. "I'll show you who's fucking boss, you little whore!"
The glowering eyes, the tight chokehold, the nasty tone. All of it disgusted Julie. Horrified, she kept struggling to break free from this most repulsive individual.
"I'm gonna fuck you real good tonight!" Matt yelled. Eager, he unbuckled his pants with gusto.
Matt's ignorant tirade disgusted Julie. She wasn't so much scared as angered. Particularly as she knew Matt wasn't the strongest guy in the world. She knew she could fight back better than this. She just knew it.
"I'll fucking show you!" Matt continued.
With unbridled ferocity, Julie pushed Matt back.
At the last second, Matt snagged Julie's right hand. A loud pop erupted through the room like an exploding New Year's cork.
Matt looked down at his discovery, stunned. A plastic hand was in his grip. A hand stolen off a mannequin. Life-life but fake.
Matt looked off at the inevitable: Julie with a hook for a hand. The blade shined back at Matt like the unforgiving glare of an executioner's eyes.
Crying out, Julie raised the gleaming weapon and lunged toward Matt.
He didn't stand a chance.
The hacks were quick and fierce. Julie's propulsive hook sliced Matt's penis into smithereens. A crude castration.
Grinning, Julie drew her "hand" back. Blood dripped off the sharp blade in vivid drops. She looked on at Matt, admiring her work. She couldn't help but admire her precision.
Blood seeped through Matt's pants. Horrified, he grabbed at the pieces of his dick as if they were remnants from a fallen sand castle. "You fucking bitch!" he yelled, his voice altered to high pitches from the wounds. "You crazy bitch!" The soggy flesh slipped through his fingers. His eyes stared at the injury with simultaneous heartbreak and disgust. Tears welled up in his eyes. "You fucking bitch..."
Matt looked up at Julie. Right before he could unleash another obscenity, the hook plunged deep into his stomach. A final flourish to the massacre.
Without hesitation or remorse, Julie yanked her hook back out.
Blood and bits of organs leaked out the kill shot. Grasping his punctured stomach, Matt collapsed against the window. The plastic hand slipped from his grasp and fell to the floorboard. More blood oozed all around his hand like an overflowing fountain. The floorboards soaked up the crimson like a dishcloth.
Matt was helpless and weak. All he could do was look on at Julie with his cold stare.
Julie gave him a defiant smile. A victorious smile.
"Fucking bitch..." Matt muttered.
With the red-stained hook, Julie turned up the volume. She made it look easy. Julie was used to maneuvering with that right hook.
"You fucking bitch!" Matt yelled with whatever strength he had left.
"Shut the fuck up!" Julie retaliated, her words punctuated by a fiery tone.
Crippled by immense pain, Matt cringed.
The reporter's steady tone erupted off the speakers. Julie had made it loud, blasting the public service announcement as if it was one of Matt's Creed albums. The voice reverberated all around Matt. His ears tortured by the report.
"Repeat, the patient is Julie Marlowe," the reporter went on. "She's in her late-twenties and is armed with a hook on her right hand. She suffers from schizophrenia and is considered very armed and dangerous."
Woozy, Matt leaned back against the window. His dick in splattered remnants. His stomach punctured. His blood flowing through his fingers. He blinked a few times, losing consciousness. The reporter's worried voice and Julie's confident stare the last few fleeting glimpses of life this old Earth had to offer him.
"Please lock your doors and stay inside tonight!" the reporter pleaded. Not even he could hide his panic. His voice reached the deafening hysteria of a newsman from the 50s. "Don't answer the door for any strangers fitting this description!"
Julie reached down and scooped up the plastic hand. The fresh blood stains made it nearly slip out of her grasp, but she held on to it tight.
Like vivid streams, blood seeped out the sides of Matt's mouth. He coughed out more crimson gallons for good measure. All the while, he kept his weak eyes on Julie and her look of satisfaction.
"Repeat," the reporter stated in a commanding tone. "Julie Marlowe may very well be walking the streets this very minute."
Grinning, Julie jammed the rubber hand over the hook. One twist stuck it on there for good. Her disguise was complete.
submitted by /u/rhonnie14 to r/libraryofshadows[link] [comments]
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British police to investigate if new Salisbury incident a hoax, reports say
- British police to investigate if new Salisbury incident a hoax, reports say Fox News
- Russian model's poisoning scare claim in UK may have been hoax: Reports The Tribune
- Couple at centre of Novichok scare are suspected drug dealer and £4000-a-night high-class escort Irish Mirror
- Couple who fell ill in Salisbury Prezzo discharged from hospital as police probe mystery circumstances The Independent Full coverage
Ugandan pop-star lawmaker who alleges torture returns home to throngs of supporters and police
- Ugandan pop-star lawmaker who alleges torture returns home to throngs of supporters and police Washington Post
- Pop-Star Politician's Return to Uganda Prompts Police Protection Bloomberg
- An pop-star MP's return triggers police crackdown in Uganda The Globe and Mail
- We have taken Bobi Wine to his home - Police NTV Uganda
- Ugandan pop star MP Bobi Wine arrested on arrival Aljazeera.com Full coverage
French court orders Marine Le Pen to submit to psychiatric evaluation
- French court orders Marine Le Pen to submit to psychiatric evaluation The Hill
- Marine Le Pen ordered to undergo psychiatric testing BBC News
- Marine Le Pen Must See Psychiatrist to Check If She Is 'Capable of Understanding Remarks': Judge Newsweek
- French far-right leader Marine Le Pen ordered to undergo psychiatric evaluation CBC.ca Full coverage