I have been thinking a lot about what would happen after they were rescued. I know we have heard bits and pieces and seen one clip of them post rescue. Now here’s a couple things I think happened and some stuff that’s still confusing. 1.we know they all got together at some point post rescue and made a pact of some sorts to stick to the story Shauna which was there plane crashed we scavenged scraped to get bye lost some friends an prayed for months till they were rescued. Also we were backed up several times to this also van said her biggest thing for not sending Lottie back to the nut house was they promised to always be there for each other which they kinda have been in all the adult time line except for van maybe something real bad happened between her and tai I would assume so. Also they kinda let Travis down although it seems he didn’t want to stay in touch with them(he prob still blames them for javis death) so I am also gonna guess at some point they all got back tighter if they split up and Shauna and nat seem to be in good terms through our season 1. I’m sure after they showed her writing in her journal she was up set with nat being picked queen. There pact overall has stayed true 2.now here is a big question I have had I was talking to a friend about this after the wreck and they get rescued wouldn’t they have sued the airline Lottie’s father anyone they can. I thought they would but my friend made a good point if there were lawsuits they would all have to talk under other in depositions. Now they could all stick to the story which they have been pretty good at but with money involved people change. And there are conflicting things that make me think they got something or they didn’t. Nat had a Porsche that was prob a 75k and up car but in the same sense they harp on the point that Shauna is broke. Also van is struggling as well. Tai def has money she paid for nats treatment a couple times but she is a lawyer. Travis is working and living alone Misty seems ok or good finally but she is a single nurse. Opinions on that please. 3.will they ever wind up telling there story. From all evidence that we have the main girls won’t but if there happens to be another survivor who made it out and they don’t know did (Ben?) could he be waiting all this time to take the girls down at the right time maybe?revenge will make u do some crazy things. 4. We know Lottie went to a mental facility and we know the girls got together for Shauna and Jeff wedding also Shauna and Jeff have a meal and get together with Jackie parents on her birthday. That’s all I can think of what we know post rescue before we get the adult time line 25 years later. Did I miss anything and any other theory’s?
My grandmother passed away in January. She was also a hoarder, so my grandfather has been Enthusiastically trying to find people to get rid of all her old stuff. We've all been going through the house and setting aside little piles of things we want to keep for ourselves if we can't take them right now but want them later, to keep them apart from the other things my aunt wants to sell.
I live in a very small apartment, and I also make all of my own clothing. My grandmother had several gorgeous old circular tablecloths that had just been sitting in a drawer somewhere, so I decided I wanted to take them and make circle skirts out of them so they wouldn't just sit in a drawer. As part of a recent social media partnership with another company, I also intended to make a blog post tutorial of my process of turning one of the tablecloths into a skirt. I had my grandfather set them aside for me and told him clearly that I wanted them and was very excited about turning them into skirts that I could wear regularly to work, but I didn't bring them home with me right away because I had a pile of other things I wanted, so I decided I'd make space for those things in my very small apartment before I brought them home with me.
Today, I asked my mother if she could bring those tablecloths down with her next time she came to visit me since I now have space for them in my fabric bin, and she told me that her sister apparently sold them. Her sister apparently doesn't understand why I'm upset and thinks it isn't a big deal. I have been really excited about making those skirts for a while now, and though I can buy another circular tablecloth from a thrift store, it won't be the same ones I specifically set aside and said I wanted. I made a half-joking comment about how my aunt should owe me the money she made from selling my things, she told me that was absurd because she's the one who went through the effort of finding someone to buy the things I had claimed.
This is made worse because my aunt has done something like this before. She sold some of my mothers old things without asking her in the past.
There was other fabric in the pile too that my grandmother had bought and never did anything with, really nice vintage fabric I can't get anymore. My aunt thinks I'm unreasonable for being upset but my grandmother adored that I made all my own clothes and talked about it frequently to other people so I know she would've much rather I made use of her tablecloths and fabric instead of them going to a stranger.
So weird question, my uncle(1) is going to start trying to get custody of my cousin since my other uncle (2) is emotionally abusing them and is neglectful. We all live in Washington state and since uncle 2 lives with my grandmother and grandfather (who primarily care for the child), we were wondering if we put up security cameras inside and outside the house, and let uncle 2 know that the cameras were up, if that would void the 2 party consent laws? Wanna have this go by the book as much as possible. Cps has been called and they have an open case but tbh this whole thing is a lot and while my family has gone through a normal custody battle (ie mom getting full custody of me) things are a lot different than they were 20 years ago. Any advice would be appreciated.
I’m 8 weeks pregnant, we have 4 dogs and three cats and live with my fiancés grandmother due to her losing her husband. 1 dog and 2 cats are from us moving in. fiancés aunt is moving to another country for a year. she decided that having her dog stay with us for that year would be best. But I recently found out she had the option of keeping it at home with her life partner . I was very offended due to me being pregnant and how awful her dog is. (chases our cats and bites people and pisses on the floor) The day she left to go back home my fiancé saw a camera on the router and it was still active. He blocked it from the router due to how rude and insensitive he felt it was. are we the assholes for being upset? his grandma was the one that okayed it and didn’t ask us our feelings, and i understand it’s her house.
Main reason I’m posting this is because I saw my ex with her new guy for the first time. my ex, and I dated for four years. Moved in to my grandmothers house after she passed away. My ex broke up with me almost a year after we moved in together it’s been almost 2 months since the break up. It’s been rough and it’s been surprisingly well at times. But it seems like every time I think I get her off my mind. I get back alone and I cannot stop thinking about the break up. I’ll be honest. I’m in a very dark place right now. I’ve tried to stay busy and I’ve been the busiest I’ve ever been. I am actually doing really good in life right now I’m doing all the right things and making the most progression towards my career that I have made in a while. It seems like I am doing everything right by at the same time, I’m not happy with myself. I’ll say it sometimes I don’t wanna be here anymore. I don’t want to go through this pain which I know I am a coward if I do that but that’s just the truth I have removed her from all aspects of my life, but I see her out in public more than I would like. She still lives in my grandmothers house, which doesn’t really help me out because I have anger towards that. Part of me wants to move out to the beach and keep pursuing my career because there’s opportunity out there, but I don’t wanna make a decision based off one person who is hurting me. I feel stalled out in life right now and I’ve always been a positive person with much motivation. But all the right I’m doing I still feel pain inside me that I don’t know how much more I can take. I know break ups are a normal part of life and I’ve already been through one but I’m just asking for advice. What am I supposed to do?
Yesterday hubby and I (36M, 32F) went to a birthday party for twins girls with our 5 year old son.
Well, mid party....
Their ngrandma walked in, late ofc, with two toy bubble guns.
She walks up to the twins playing with their cousin, who is 6. Hands a bubble gun to twin #1, and the other to their cousin (it's not his birthday!)..
Looks at twin #2 and, I shit you not, she says "I didn't think you would want one. I wasn't sure which one you'd like."
She just stood there as the little 5 year old girl burst into tears.
I was flabbergasted. It was the first time I've been so massively triggered, in real time, by a narc, I sniffed out a mile away.
I had to leave the house and go in the backyard... telling myself "not my child, not my problem"... while employing all of the coping mechanisms I learned in my 18 months (and counting!) of trauma recovery therapy.
The moment the ngrandmother walked in, its like they have this "air" about them...of self importance...maybe. I knew right away to stay away from her.
Good thing their mother noticed and went and purchased another bubble gun, same one. Cuz you know...that's what you do for twins. Jeez who doesn't know that?! Buy two of the same thing or two but slightly different for twin girls!
But the damage was done. The granny already labeled one as the GC and one as the SG. She already, at the age of 5, is pitting them against one another. Already discarded one.
I'll give you my hypothesis as to why she chose one as the GC over the other. I can make a good guess because I am a former scapegoat...my grandmother and mother are covert narcs, but stupid cuz they openly compared me to my sister when I was young.
The GC twin is smaller, more baby like in her mannerism, super happy/active kind of happy go lucky.
The SG child is loud, unapologetic, defiant (as she should be), and just built different from her fraternal sister. She is a bit... broader, you know cuz her father descends from vikings, so.
This is almost exactly what my ngrandmother would say. She'd describe my sister as full of energy, and thin, and just the perfect child.
I was calm but outspoken, a truth teller. I was scapegoated because my sister looked more like my mom's side of the family (???), wasn't thin (I was normal size), am very empathic and see right through people's BS.
It like, unlocked a memory. Anyone else relate?
As I mentioned before, my entire family was very open to the paranormal and have always believed in it. I knew this guy my age for a few years and his mom ended up being my family’s hairdresser to this day. This story is from when I was in 4th grade (now a college jr). My mom was telling her stories about the house when she mentioned that she is a psychic medium and can feel and sometimes hear spirits. We thought this was so interesting so my mom invited her to my grandparents house to see if she would find anything. As soon as she walked through the door she mentioned there were several spirits. A young woman, a young man, an older woman and a young child. Important to note this was the first time she and my grandmother had met. We all sat down at the table in the den and the woman immediately asked if my grandmother was aware that the previous owner had died in the house. She said she was, nobody else was aware of this but the last woman who lived there was an older woman who helped build the house (even had handprints in the cement in the backyard) and she passed away in the living room area. We all walked up to the attic area and the medium told us that the spirits were just walking behind us interested in what we were doing.
My mother is a textbook example of a narcissist, and obviously it had a tremendous impact on me. I am trying my best to heal from it. I moved out of my parents' house when I was 17, I have limited contact with her and established clear boundaries. Even more so, I live in a different country quite far away from home. I am very proud of myself for getting here, as despite my toxic upbringing and complete lack of resources (I am a first-generation college student from a non-English speaking country), I am now getting a PhD and I am quite successful both professionally and academically. I am also in therapy, which has also been very helpful.
I have a younger brother (he is going to turn 14 later this year). As I am 11 years older than him, I have always been a rather parental figure to him, especially since our mother is not great at mothering and our father was an alcoholic (he died a few years ago because of that). I love my brother very much, he is a great kid and I try to stay in touch with him via texts and video calls, even though we live in different countries. As he is growing older, he begins to realize how fucked up our family dynamics are and how poorly our mother is treating him and that that is wrong and he doesn't deserve this. We talk a lot about it and I do my best to support him in this, as everything that he is going through is so painfully familiar to me as well.
However, I find this position to be very heartbreaking. First of all, talking with my brother about his current experiences with my mom feels re-traumatizing to me, as she hasn't really changed her ways and tactics over the years. It also feels like a punch to the gut, knowing that a kid that I love and deeply care for, has to go through all of the neglect and fights at home. Secondly, I feel like my brother's situation is even more dire than mine. My childhood was shitty as well, but at least I had some support system outside of home - my grandmother was a very loving person and I always could turn to her (unfortunately, she passed away). I also had several very supportive teachers at school, who would often let me hang out at their offices while I do my homework after school, so I didn't have to go straight home after classes and they also helped me a lot academically for free, simply 'cause they just were good people. I feel like my brother doesn't really have anyone to turn to in his day-to-day life. And this is breaking my heart. I just understand everything that he is going through and I know that it is unbearable for a kid to handle all of that alone.
I try to motivate him to study, to get into a college, to get away from home. I try to remind him that he only has a few years left, and while it feels like a long time for a 13-year-old, but it really is not and that I am more than sure that he can do it. In the meantime, mom tells him nearly every day that he is a failure compared to me and my achievements (which is just a pile of BS, esp since my mother holds zero credit for my achievements). He struggles to keep his grades up (mostly because mom doesn't give two fucks about what's going on in school), so hearing that daily has a very negative impact to his self-esteem. She also bodyshames him a lot (her classic specialty), so that also doesn't help. He also feels the pressure to be as successful as I am and do everything that I did, and I keep reminding him that he is his own person, and all I want him to be is a happy and healthy individual, whatever that may entail.
So if any of you have been in a similar situation and have any advice on how to help younger siblings deal with narcissistic parents? And how to take care of myself while helping them? Any words of support are very welcome as well.
Lastly, I wanted to say how big of a help this community has been to me over the years. I discovered it when I was a teenager myself, and it validated my thoughts and feelings a lot, just knowing that what I was going through was not okay, and I am not alone in this, and there is a way out. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
All my life I was raised by people who avoid their responsabilities.
Two weeks ago, my beautiful baby dog died abruptly she was only 7. I usually go away one week per month to another city for work (and to maintain mental stability) and leave my dogs with my parents. I know they do not abuse my dogs, I leave them food, they feed them, they sleep inside, enough for one week, I try never to stay away too long. The only reason I am here is because here my dogs have space. In the city I could afford a place for me, but naturally not a house, probably a 1 bedroom and my dogs are not used to that. My dog was sick one week before but by tuesday she seemed to be recovered. Since she was young I thought it was an acute episode and she was recovered, so I went friday evening.
Saturday evening my mother called me saying she had being vomiting. Apparently my mother left after lunch and she was fine but when she came back she saw she was vomiting and called me. From the schedule, I think she first came home, cooked and calmy ate dinner, while my puppy was there suffering, but first things first! The most important is to calmy eat dinner, fuck the dying dog.
Then I asked them to take them to the hospital. I wanted her to stay overnight and would come back next day. My father did not want to because she would leave fur in his car and possibly vomit and also he wanted to rest and maybe he'd have to wait too long in the vet. Eventually they went after being on the phone for 40 minutes teaching them how to put the leash (my father knew he was procrastinating hoping he did not have to go).
During the afternoon, my father and brother were home. They probably saw my dog ill but they didn't bother to call me. If they had called me I would have booked a ticket and come home immediately. They would take her to the vet and when I was home I would be there on time to see her. Even if she died - which maybe she wouldn't because she had gone earlier - I would be there. Instead she agonized an entire afternoon and then died alone in the vet and I did not have the chance to say goodbye.
While crying on the phone with my mother, she said "but you knew she was not well, why did you go?". But then in the same call I asked her "why didn't you call me earlier if you saw she was unwell?" to what she replied yelling "she was well friday evening in satudary in the morning" (she was well but I should know she was unwell? the fuck?). This is because my mother always tries to make me feel guilty for doing anything I like: vacation, going out, she always tries to put me down. Then in another call I was making more questions about that day and crying and she jokingly said "I will make you a drawing when you come back home". And also said "if you're coming here cause problems, you might as well stay there" (I did not come home right after she died I stayed in the city for a while and handled the cremation procedures by phone).
I know it's my fault as well. I will have to live with the fact that I left, that maybe I should have seen the signs, that I was not the best pet owner, I did not have the best housing situation to have pets and I did not deserver her. I know all of that. I never had problems assuming my responsabilities and guilt.
But not my parents, specially my father and brother. They are little saints who are never guilty or responsible of anything. My mother too, but at least she eventually called.
The house where they live was built by my grandparents. They were illiterate and went abroad to a country they hated to get money, stayed there for 20 years, made sacrifices and then came back and built this house. When my father got my mother pregnant of me "by accident" (poor saint is never responsible for anything it's always an accident) they let them live here rent free. They did not pay any bills. They had free childcare (my grandmother took care of me). My grandmother cooked for everyone, my mother could get home and had everything prepared. My grandfather even opened a business so my father would have a job at home!
Then my grandmother died, my grandfather was heatbroken. He still paid everything in the house but my mother wanted to charge him money to cook for him. The business went bankrupt and my father was jobless for like 12 years. He was always bothering my grandfather to give him money. The last time I saw my grandfather in the hospital I went with my father and the last thing he said was "it's ok, the retirement check for this month already came". He was sad when my grandfather died obviously, because now he would not have anyone to care for him.
My grandfather was sick for a while but my mother did not care for him. She instead started caring for one of old neighboors because her daughters were abroad. She did not visit him in the hospital. My grandfather even pressed charges against my mother to a social worker (did not went ahead because then he died).
They never did anything in life, no sacrifices, everything handed to them, and they were never grateful. Then my grandfather died and they inherit this house they never worked for.
They can't even care for the house properly. Parts of the house are degrading because they don't clean it. They don't invest in it. They have a part they're renting to someone for an extremely low rent value because they like the guy. They could charge more and with the money do some work. nop. They put my brother's girlfriend, her mother, her two cats and the dog here, rent free. The cats had to be closed in the room all day because my dogs did not get along, but when I was not here, they made my dog sleep in an outside place we have and let the cats free, the cats ruined some of the couch and wall paper. It's fine I love cats, but it's amazing how for 30 years I lived here, my grandfather for longer (and he owned the place) and that couch was never ruined. These people come and in a matter of months ruin the couch.
Whatever. My father already said the house is going for my brother (he can't do that, by law I am always entitled to some part, but he is too stupid to know that). Once he was sick and my brother was sleeping in the same floor as him, but instead of calling my brother he phoned me. Then I called an ambulance and went to wake up my brother but my father was like "no don't wake him up, he has to wake up early" (I had to work next day but who cares).
My brother has a girlfriend and he already manifested the will of then coming live with her here, potentially eventually have their kids, stay here, rent free. I think when he brought her and her mother here he hoped eventually I would just disappear with my dogs and the mother could stay in my room and he and his girlfriend in the other and everyone would be happy.
Well, too bad. I am planning on laywering up to understand the things I have to do to assure than when they pass away I inherit my part. I do not intend to make it easy for my brother. I always worked hard and I am in a good position now in my life despite all the abuse and despite the fact they never helped me, so fuck him, he can do the same. Every centimer I am entitled to by law, I will fucking get it. And I am also planning to do a will to make sure most my money does not go for any of them if I die before.
My life may not have a lot of meaning now that my baby passed away (still have another dog, so some meaning), but I will fuck these pricks and make them pay, even if that's my only purpose. Every hour of that afternoon they let my dog in agony, they will pay for it 1000x more.
TWBS Previous Next
First -
---Esme’s perspective---
---Saturday, 11th of November, 2682 Terran Calendar---
---Southern England---
Fucking
Sussex!
‘Can you send me to the Forth Valley?’
‘Oh, we can
try… On an unrelated note, how’s your standard English? No problems in communicating?’
I should’ve just said ‘No, I have
great difficulty in communicating in anything but Lallans Scots!’ instead of putting on my poshest English speech register to say ‘Marjorie dearest,
would you be a lamb and pass another buttered scone…
hold the raspberry jam, it’s
far too
spicy for me!’ which she told me she’d take as a ‘Yes.’
“
This is an English language barracks.
If you have been directed here in error,
please make yourself known to barracks staff for reassignment.” plays a loud, prerecorded Welsh language announcement, over speakers.
They’re fucking rubbing it
in!
“
This is an English language barracks.
If you have been directed here in error,
please make yourself known to barracks staff for reassignment.” it repeats in Scots Gaelic.
“
Ceci est une caserne Anglophone.
Si vous avez été assigné ici par erreur,
veuillez vous faire connaître auprès du personnel de la caserne pour une réaffectation.” it says in what I’m 90% sure is a French version of the same announcement (I can’t be
certain, though, as that’s not one of my languages).
Looking at the crowds queuing to get in makes me regret asserting that I didn’t need transport here.
‘You shouldn’t be sending someone to
War that you don’t trust to navigate themself from Galloway to Sussex!’ were my exact words.
I brushed off the recruitment officer saying that I’d be processed faster if I arrived on Military organised transport.
Well, standing
here’s not gonna get me to the front of the queue now, is it!
I walk forward to join the massive throng of people, almost all of which look to be about my age.
It’s
astonishing how
short you feel, being an average height girl in a crowd of people!
178cm really isn’t all that much when you’ve got a not
insignificant number of +2m guys here!
Even guys who are the average 188cm can make a girl feel short when their packed too close…
I see a
few Neanderthal hunks… perhaps conscription won’t be
all bad(!)
When I make it to the front of the line, the guy just stares expectantly at me like I’m supposed to
already know what to do.
“Y’awright?… Err… mah nam’s Esme Reid…?” I say, hesitantly, in
perfectly comprehensible speech.
“I’m sorry, would you repeat that?” he answers, looking at me like I just spoke to him in fucking Chinese!
“
Greetings, gracious sir! You may kindly refer to me by the name ‘
Esme Reid’!” I say, affecting my supercilious Southern English gentlewoman accent.
“Alright, Ms Reid. Please present your draft papers and identification.”
The
balls they have to ask
me to prove who
I am when
they’
re the ones asking
me to go off and fucking
die for them!
I think about quipping that I should ask him to show me some proof that this is a legitimate Military installation sanctioned by the government of Sol… but think
better of it…
Instead, I pull out my draft papers and my holopad, quickly getting up my identification app.
The man scans the code with his own holo and spends a few seconds glancing from his screen to my face and back.
Seeming satisfied that I’m not attempting to enlist under a false identity (for whatever strange reason a person might want to do
that) he glances at my papers, says “Everything seems to be in order.” and waves a hand in front of a machine which whirs for half a second before spitting out a simple chain necklace with two little metal rectangles hanging off of it.
He hands it to me and says “This is your identification tag. Please check that the information on it is correct and, if it is, put it on and never take it off.”
I check the tag.
“You’ve got my name and birthday right…” I say, making a conscious effort to keep my speech register in that that a standard English speaker would consider acceptable “…don’t know about the regiment and serial number.”
“Those will be correct.” he says with a ‘move along’ tone.
I shrug, raise the dogtag over my head and drop it around my neck.
I walk on and he’s serving the girl behind me before I’ve even rounded the counter.
I’m ushered through the barracks, herded by the staff, until I reach a building labelled ‘Billet House 279’.
It doesn’t really look like I expected soldiers’ digs to look.
Definitely
prefabbed but sort of has more the look of a uni hall than anything else… though I think it’s probably a bit
much to expect that I’ll get a room to myself(!)
I follow the throng of draftees through to a wide open room, on the ground floor, that looks like it’s normally a cafeteria.
The camp attendants (who I’m guessing were in the same boat as us, not
too long ago) direct us to stand along the left, right and nearside walls, keeping the back wall and centre of the room clear.
Everyone in place, there follows a few minutes of silence broken only by people whispering to one another.
Then,
she enters the room.
Dark skinned and clad in green camo clothing, her scalp is easily visible between her cornrows with nary a
hair out of place.
Her expression looks absolutely indifferent with just the slightest hint of a curled lip.
From the broadness and flatness of her facial features as well as her single mauve eye, she is clearly half Tshwane… though, you’d
never guess that from her
stature!
Female Tshwane average nearly 2m… the
men are more like 2.2m!
She’
s shorter than
me!
She’s also built like a Sapiens, not the willowy thinness typical of Tshwane
I guess genetics interact in funny ways sometimes…
Based on her age, her Tshwane parent would probably have to have been one of the very
first to be cloned back!
The other eye seems to have been ripped out at some point because in its place is a bionic and there’s a patch of hypopigmented scar tissue, forming a tear shape, at the right corner.
“Recruits… Welcome to the United Terran Coalition Infantry Trainin’ Camp, Graffham… My name is Warrant Officer Simone Sands… and I’ll be your drill instructor…” says the woman, cooly, speaking in a rough sounding, London accent.
The surname ‘Sands’
probably means her dad was the Tshwane (though not
necessarily… she might have been given her mum’s surname… or it
might be a coincidental English surname).
“…You
all know why you’re here… Most of you’ve prob’ly already lost loved ones to this War… You are here to defend our right to
exist… and I can’t think of a more worthy reason to fight than that…”
I’ve decided I like this woman… She
may be English but I’ll try not to hold
that against her(!)
“The first thing I need to tell all of you is that, by the end of your trainin’, you
will NOT like me…” she says, as if reading my mind “…that’s OK. My job ain’t to be liked, my job ain’t to make friends… my job is to make
soldiers!”
She casts her biological and bionic eyes around the room, letting her words hang in the air.
“
Note… that I said ‘
soldiers’… This ain’t Full Metal Jacket. This
ain’
t the 20th Century. There’ll
be no Pvt
Piles here!… I
ain’
t aimin’ to
destroy your minds or your individuality. I
ain’
t goin’ to physic’ly and psychologic’ly abuse you into becomin’ robots
or killers… I am makin’ you into
soldiers… Regardless… this process will
not be easy! In fact, it may
well be the hardest thing you ever
do!… As the face of this process, you
will come to hate and resent me for it!… I
hope for it! The more you hate me the more-
DO YOU HAVE SOMETHIN’
TO SAY,
PRIVATE?!”
Everyone in the room is startled by the authoritative woman breaking herself off to shout angrily at someone on the other side of the room.
“
STEP FORWARD AND SPEAK SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR YOU!”
The boy that steps forward is tall, bulky and muscular with a
handsome, half Neanderthal face…
just my type!
Then he has to go and
ruin it by opening his mouth.
“I was just saying… that I find it somewhat difficult to take you seriously as a commanding officer… You just seem a little bit…
little.” says the boy in the poshest,
smarmiest English drawl I’ve
ever heard!
The woman does not shout, she does not scream, she doesn’t snarl or even purse her lips!
She just nods, as if considering his words, then asks “What’s your
name, Soldier?”
“Rupert Forest.” responds the boy, proudly.
“And, how tall are you, Pvt Forest?” responds the woman, unimpressed
“195cm.” he answers.
“And, what’s your
mass?” she asks.
“110kg.”
“I see, I see… So, by
your logic… you’d make a better drill sergeant than me, would you? You’re 25cm taller and 35kg heavier, afterall!”
He smirks “I wouldn’t presume to say so, Ma’am…” in a way that definitely suggests that he thinks he
would.
She seems to consider that for some moments before answering “Alright then,
fight me for it!”
“I’m sorry…?” responds the poshboy.
“You heard me…
Clearly, you got
no respect for skill and experience but it seems like you must respect
power… so
fight me for it! You win,
you get to train this lot,
I win, you
never question my authority again!”
Is this woman
mad!?
She
may be a soldier but this boy she just challenged is a half Neanderthal
giant!
She’s gonna
lose!
I do
not want to be drilled by some snotty, privileged English
brat who got here at the same time as I did and just couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut!
Then again, I don’t really want to be drilled by a woman so delusional that she felt the best way to squash insubordination was to challenge a man she has no
hope of beating, either!
The guy is clearly
salivating over the power that’s just been slapped on the table in front of him as he answers “I accept your
terms, Ms Sands…” with faux magnanimity.
There’s no way they’d let a Private run drills, is there? When he wins, someone just needs to go and complain and they’ll give us another (less
stupid) drill sergeant…
right?
He strips off his jacket to reveal a pair of thick, muscular arms that (in spite of his repulsive personality) are a
thrilling sight.
He has to go and ruin it by flexing and posing, clearly
revelling in the room’s worth of gasps he got when he revealed his arms… He obviously likes being the centre of attention.
“Done?” asks Sands, drily.
“If you still want to
do this…” he says, smugly “…you
could just concede defeat and I’m
sure no one would hold it against you!”
Her lip curls as she answers “But… if I did that, no one would
learn nothin’, now
would they…”
He shrugs before launching himself at her without waiting for her to give the word to begin.
She whirls out of the way and he snatches at her, unsuccessfully, as his momentum carries him past.
“
Lesson 1:…” she shouts while snapping into the space behind him and kicking out his knee “…
size does not determine victory,
strength does not determine victory…” levelling another powerful kick between his shoulderblades to bring him to the ground.
She backs off, allowing him to scramble to his feet and turn to face her, hunched in readiness and scowling.
“…
Pvt Forest here looked at me with contempt on account of my small size and,
though he didn’
t say so,
I’
d guess that my rough accent,
my lack of a graduate epithet and my lack of a penis also played a roll in his judgin’
me as less than!…
He thought he could beat me,
he probably still DOES,
and, ’
causa that,
he didn’
t respect my ability to lead…!”
Forest makes another lunge for the smaller woman, misses and is punished for it by being knocked back to the floor.
I’m agog as I watch this little woman… there’s no other word but
toy with the
giant man!
“…
but victory does not care how big you are,
how strong you are,
how classy or educated you are or what**’**
s in your pants or panties…!”
She dodges around his arm and pins his chest to the floor with her knee.
“
Discipline and trainin’
determine victory!…
Things that I have and Pvt Forest LACKS!…
Things that ALL of you will acquire,
over the next 8 months!!!” she turns her head down to the mountain of man she’s pinning to the floor “
Concede,
Private!”
The man shakes his head, trying in vain to leverage himself up.
“Alright then…
Lesson 2:
When faced with a resistant individual,
compliance can be effectively enforced by the expedient of lockin’
their joints to induce PAIN!!!”
She grabs his thick arms by the wrists and pulls them backwards in a way they are
not meant to bend!
He
screams in agony!
“
CONCEDE!!!…
Don’
t make me send you to the Medical Officer!
It’
d be inconvenient for BOTH of us if your pride makes you miss your first week of trainin’
while your arms heal!!!”
He holds out for two more seconds before screaming “
I concede!
I CONCEDE!!!”
She releases him and stands back up.
“
On your feet, Soldier…” she growls down at him.
He stands back up, his face
beet red.
“Are you
ever goin’ to question my fitness to instruct again, Private?” she glares up at the humiliated giant.
“No.” he answers, gracelessly.
“
No…?” she says as if waiting for something else.
Forest looks as confused as I am about what she’s expecting.
“No,
Ma’
am!” she snarls.
“No, Ma’am.”
“Good, we’ll
work on your attitude, movin’ forward. Now,
get back in line!”
The humiliated man picks up his civvy jacket and returns to the place he was called out from.
“Now, I don’t think I need to prattle on anymore about how you’re gonna hate me by the end of our time together, do I?… I think Pvt Forest helped me prove that point quite
well, so I’ll move on… You will sleep in
this buildin’, six to a room. Your rooms will be gender segregated. If you wish for a place to be…
intimate with people of the opposite gender, you may request use of one of the conjugal rooms… I
suggest you do the same if you want to be intimate with a
same gender partner but
that’
s between you and your
roommates! You will eat in this room at 0700hrs, 1200hrs and 1800hrs. Diet’ry requirements will be accommodated but, bare in mind, this ain’t your mummies’ and daddies’
kitchen! ‘This food is forbidden by my religion/personal ethics’ is a diet’ry requirement. ‘I am allergic to this food’ is a diet’ry requirement! ‘I don’t
like how
this food tastes’ is
not(!)… In the mornin’s, you will be receivin’ lessons in lecture theatres, workshops and the like…”
“
Oh great…
just what I wanted
after leaving school(!)
More classrooms(!)” I mutter to myself.
Her head instantly wheels to me with unnerving precision.
“
Someone else with somethin’
they’
d like to say!?” she says, locking eyes with me, terrifyingly.
“
No, Ms Sands!” I answer, instantly.
“
Miss?!
I’
m not your bloody schoolteacher girl!!!”
Everyone laughs. Even Pvt Forest, like he wasn’t just humiliated
himself, 2 minutes ago!
“Ma’am… err…
Ma’
am,
no,
Ma’
am!!!” I say, doing my best to emulate the tone I’ve seen soldiers use in films.
She rolls her eye (it’s difficult to tell if the bionic rolls too) and says “
Better… What’s your
name, Private?”
“
Ma’
am,
the Private’
s name is Esme Reid,
Ma’
am!!!”
“Do you remember me tellin’ you this
ain’
t Full Metal Jacket?… You don’t need to
scream when you talk to me, you
don’
t need to refer to yourself in third person and
one ‘Ma’am’, when you’re done speakin’, is
enough, Reid!”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She points to her single, mauve eye, then to me and says “I’ll have my
eye on you, Reid!”
Somehow, her tone sends a chill up my spine but I do my best not to show it.
She turns away and I release a silent sigh of relief.
“As I was sayin’… In your lectures you will learn the ins and outs of military theory; tactics, strategies, logistics etc. You will learn as much as we can tell you about the nature of the species we are fightin’; their capabilities, tendencies, political organisations and known weaknesses…
bear in mind that First Contact weren’t much more than 4 years ago and we’ve been at War for almost all the intervenin’ time, so a lot of what we teach you will be little more than guesswork and hearsay from prisoners we’ve interrogated… The mornin’s’ll also be where you learn the particulars of the equipment you’ll be expected to be proficient with in the field. This includes firearms, plasmaweaponry and durasteel armour, as well as the tech you’ll likely encounter from the opposite side; kinetic pulse weapons, laser weapons, field emitters etc… I
strongly suggest that
no one allows word to get back to me that they’re not takin’ these classes seriously!… A stupid soldier is a
dead soldier!”
She glares around the room, her eyes resting on me four a quarter of a second.
“…In the afternoons and evenin’s, you’ll be doing PT… that’s ‘
Physical Trainin’’… soon to be every
one of your two
least favourite words in the English Language(!) “
I notice a wry smirk twist the mouths of a few of the camp attendants.
“In PT you will be drilled in agility, endurance, close quarters combat and coordinated marching… Five times over the comin’ 8 months, you and your trainin’ partner will be dropped into a remote bit of wilderness, somewhere on Earth, for five day practical survival experience. You will be given a beacon, to summon retrieval, but these are only to be used in cases of actual threat to life or bodily
integrity… not because you’re feelin’
miserable!”
She takes a second to pause for breath.
“You get an allowance of 12 days off, over your time here… that’s
two a month… These are subject to
my approval and I may deny them for
any reason, including
no reason… so
don’
t piss me off!… You may
not take more than 2 consecutive days leave at a time! Certain classes are
mandatory and leave will
not be approved on days they occur. If your allowance is spent, no more leave will be approved, barring a
real emergency!… Now, for today, you are going to line up to have your maps and room keys downloaded onto your holos when your name is called,
then you are going to have your bodies scanned for your armour measurements… at that point everyone with no uterus has the rest of the day free to settle in… If you
have a uterus, you’ll need to report to medical to get your cycle paused! This is, I’m afraid,
nonoptional… You are not prohibited from engaging in relations with your fellow recruits but you
cannot be a soldier while you’re able to get pregnant. Attempts to circumvent this requirement in
any way will land you in the Stockade!… After your cycle pause has been given, you’ll also have the rest of the day to settle in…
Enjoy it! It’ll be the most downtime you get for a
while!… Finally… I believe we have a 17 year old with us here… Pvt Taylor?”
A few people put their hands up, most looking confused.
“Pvt
Oskar Taylor! The
17 year old?” she says, exasperated.
All but one of those with their hands up put them down.
The one remaining Pvt Taylor with his hand in the air has pale skin, black hair, brown eyes and a sharp featured face wearing a dour expression.
He stands even taller than Forest… Nearly 2m tall!
Though he’s not
quite as heavily built, he’s certainly a
good looking piece of boycandy!
“Pvt
Taylor…” says Sands, her mouth breaking into a smile for the first time I’ve seen “…couldn’t
wait to go off to War, could you(?)”
He mutters something but, while I can hear the power and deepness of his voice, I can’t make out a word he says.
“You’ll have to speak
up, Taylor! Nobody’ll be able to hear you if you mumble.” points out Sands.
“I said I had some personal circumstances that made this the most sensible course of action for me, Ma’am.” says the tall, dark haired man, looking over her head rather than down at her and speaking in a grim monotone. He definitely loses boycandy points for the poshness of his accent, unfortunately…
“I see… I won’t pry into
that but… you didn’t think of Officer Training?
That’
s the route that
most people take when volunteering ahead of their conscription.”
He shakes his head “I thought of it and decided against it, Ma’am.”
“Oh? Why’s that, Pvt Taylor?”
“I didn’t believe I would
make a good officer, Ma’am.” he answers simply.
She laughs “I wish every soldier could be as introspective, Taylor! I like
you!… Unfortunately, bein’ a minor does mean that you can’t be put in a room with others…
Sooo, that means you get a room to yourself… for the moment. Might
sound cushy but before anyone else gets
too jealous, bare in mind that privacy is the
only advantage! His room will be a sixth the size of yours so its basic’ly a
broomcupboard… the
disadvantage will be
severely reduced opportunity to socialise!… If that doesn’t sound doable, you can leave and come back when you turn 18, Taylor.”
“It’s acceptable, Ma’am.” he says without hesitating.
Yeah… it’s official… I
don’
t like him…
---later---
I rub the spot on my arm where the serum was thunked into me about 15 minutes ago.
Like with everything
else about conscription, I
get it… I understand the
point…
But seeing the sense doesn’t mean I have to
like it!
It’s not like I
want to get pregnant (getting a nine month reprieve from service would be a
fairly shitty reason for me to bring a
child into the world) but it does feel like one last slap in the face to my personal
autonomy that I’ve just had a cycle pause fucking
mandated upon my body by the government!
As I draw near, door 1512 detects the key downloaded on my holo and unlocks
I open it and am greeted by a blonde girl, smiling broadly and instantly identifiable as
brimming with ADHD energy.
“
Hey there! My name’s Charlotte, it’s
lovely to meet you!” says the girl, wrapping me in a hug without asking if I’m OK with that.
Her accent makes me wonder if
everyone I meet here is going to be a posh
toff!
She makes three of
three of my fellow draftees!
“A pleasure, Charlotte… the name’s Esme…” I say, speaking Scottish accented standard English and gingerly patting her back.
“Oh, you’re
Scottish…?” she says pulling herself off me with an expression that suggests meeting a Scottish person is just the most
wonderful thing she could have
imagined “…My great grandmother was from Edinburgh, where are
you from?”
“Stranraer.” I answer.
She frowns “I don’t know it, I’m
sorry!”
“I won’t hold it against you… Southwestern tip of Scotland? Where it nearly touches Ireland and the Man Peninsula?… ’Bout two and a half million people?”
“Oh,
wooow! I don’t think I’ve ever
met someone from a
village before!” she says, seeming entirely oblivious to how that
might be taken as an insult.
“Yeah… I guess it’s
not that big.”
“Well…” she wraps me back in the hug and continues “…we’re the first ones to the room and that
has to mean we’re going to be
best friends!”
“I’m afraid my best friend’s name is Tamsin… the position is
not open.” I say, firmly setting a boundary.
“I meant best
bootcamp friends, silly!” she says, as if that should have gone without saying.
“Alright… I guess that positions open… but you’ve not got the job
yet(!)” I quip, warming up a little to the ball of posh English energy.
She pulls back and beams at me “Alright then, for my
first act as best bootcamp friend candidate, let me show you the view!…
That should earn me some points!”
She says, leading me into the room that’s so small it makes me doubt that that goody-two-shoes 17 year old can
possibly have one a
sixth this size!
She leads me to the window and spends a few moments making sure I’m positioned just right before she draws back the curtain.
The view
is quite breathtaking… rolling hills of snow blanketed mammoth steppe, lit by evening sun, with barely any of the sprawling military camp visible.
Though, you
can see one of the tallest structures ever built by Humanity… the Sussex Space elevator… several times the Earth’s own diameter, the ‘top’, if you can even
call it that, is a fifth of the way from here to Luna! …And… in 8 months, I’m going to be riding it, all the way up, to get on a troop transport.
“Look! See! There’s a herd of aurochs over on that hill! You know this place used to be a national park, before even Unification or the Reset! It’s called the South Downs! My mum told me we had family from here… obviously I never met any of them because they would have left
hundreds of years ago!…”
The bubbly girl talks and talks and… just
keeps talking… but I don’t particularly mind.
---
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TWBS Previous Next
First Housemates grandmother has died. She was in supported accommodation but owned her house outright. When she went to the accommodation she rented her house out to the neighbours son for £400 a month years ago and has never had a contract. Houses in the area rent for £1500 so obviously the tenant isn’t keen on moving out or back in with his parents next door. The death was complicated and is tied up in autopsy etc but trying to pay for a funeral and sort things out and it’s come up that there is possibly a debt for end of life care to pay. The family are worried the tenant won’t sign a contact, or move out if required. They have thrown around the word ‘squatters rights’ and how the house is legally theirs because of a 10 year rule that they have had post to the address. God knows the state of the property but it’s possible it’s either in mint condition or totally fallen apart on the last decade since anyone from the family has seen the house. Is it likely this tenant can somehow take the house? The youngest memeber of the family would ideally like to move into it
When I was in 11th grade I went to my maternal grandmother's house to visit her. Most of the family members were either not at home or getting ready to go somewhere. And I still remember this when I entered inside the gate. One of my cousins older than me was getting ready to go somewhere. She was almost ready just finding her footwear. Another one of my cousins, younger than me, called the older cousin "Veerana Mahal". I still don't know what was going on there. The younger one asked me, how I was and after talking a little She too went outside. I went in my maternal grandmother's room. She was alone doing Pooja. I waited for her to finish her Pooja. Then I hugged her and talked to her for few minutes. There was some housework left to do in her room. I couldn't help because we had too go home as it was getting dark.
I came back to my home. I went to my paternal aunt's house as she lived next to our house. I went to my paternal aunt's house as she lived next to our house. I went there and I talked about my day but when I was talking about my maternal grandmother. I started crying uncontrollably. I felt very sad for my her as she was old and alone. Then my aunt said she feels same about her father when she looks at him. On Friday my parents and I went out to eat. I love dosa. So, all of us had dosa. After that we went to an ice-cream parlour and we're having ice-cream. So, my mom saw a dog and told me to buy a packet of biscuits for it. As I had also paid for dosa and ice-cream. I said no. Now there was a reason behind it. My brother used to feed a lot of biscuits to a lot street dogs. He thought that by being kind to them will bring good luck to him. He is selfish. He doesn't care about the happiness of his family members i.e. my parents and I. But does care about animals, relatives and outsiders. That's why I didn't want to buy a street dog a packet of biscuits because I didn't want to be like him. Also I have always been very selfless. So, now I am slowly learning to be selfish. I said that, "Being selfish is a virtue" to myself in 2020. I could have just bought a packet of Parle-G or as I like to call it Pagare ji for the dog but I didn't. But I did see the dog when it was lying on the footpath. It kinda looked tired, maybe hungry too. So, when I was napping in the afternoon on Saturday(yesterday).
I had a dream about two puppies. One of them was blind. I gave food to both of them but one of them couldn't find it's food because it was blind. Then I guided the blind puppy with noises to come near me and eat it's food. Then I started crying uncontrollably in my dreams. I had my hand on my mouth and eyes shut. I ugly crying. Then suddenly I woke up.
I am not even a fan of animals. I am not cruel to them. I do feed cows and dogs when they are at the gate of my house.
Last week my father and I went to some place because we had to get some documents made. It was afternoon. So, we stopped for some sugarcane juice. There came a little boy. Maybe 8 years old asked for money my father said no to him. I said why did you say no just give him something. My father said this like business for them. His parents must be sitting somewhere and sent him to beg. When I got my glass of sugarcane juice. I went near him and asked him to take it. At first he was hesitant then he took it. I told my father that he's just a kid it's not his fault that his parents have left him to beg. We can give food if not money.
I just want to know why I feel so guilty about things. Even when it's not my fault.
When I was in 11th grade I went to my maternal grandmother's house to visit her. Most of the family members were either not at home or getting ready to go somewhere. And I still remember this when I entered inside the gate. One of my cousins older than me was getting ready to go somewhere. She was almost ready just finding her footwear. Another one of my cousins, younger than me, called the older cousin "Veerana Mahal". I still don't know what was going on there. The younger one asked me, how I was and after talking a little. She too went outside. I went in my maternal grandmother's room. She was alone doing Pooja. I waited for her to finish her Pooja. Then I hugged her and talked to her for few minutes. There was some housework left to do in her room. I couldn't help because we had too go home as it was getting dark.
I came back to my home. I went to my paternal aunt's house as she lived next to our house. I went there and I talked about my day but when I was talking about my maternal grandmother. I started crying uncontrollably. I felt very sad for my her as she was old and alone. Then my aunt said she feels same about her father when she looks at him.
On Friday my parents and I went out to eat. I love dosa. So, all of us had dosa. After that we went to an ice-cream parlour and we're having ice-cream. So, my mom saw a dog and told me to buy a packet of biscuits for it. As I had also paid for dosa and ice-cream. I said no. Now there was a reason behind it. My brother used to feed a lot of biscuits to a lot street dogs. He thought that by being kind to them will bring good luck to him. He is selfish. He doesn't care about the happiness of his family members i.e. my parents and I. But he does care about animals and relatives, even outsiders.
That's why I didn't want to buy a street dog a packet of biscuits because I didn't want to be like him. Also I have always been very selfless. So, now I am slowly learning to be selfish. I said that, "Being selfish is a virtue" to myself in 2020. I could have just bought a packet of Parle-G or as I like to call it Pagare ji for the dog but I didn't. But I did see the dog when it was lying on the footpath. It kinda looked tired, maybe hungry too.
So, when I was napping in the afternoon on Saturday(yesterday).
I had a dream about two puppies. One of them was blind. I gave food to both of them but one of them couldn't find it's food because it was blind. Then I guided the blind puppy with noises to come near me and eat it's food. Then I started crying uncontrollably in my dreams. I had my hand on my mouth and eyes shut. I ugly crying. Then suddenly I woke up.
I am not even a fan of animals. I am not cruel to them. I do feed cows and dogs when they are at the gate of my house.
Last week my father and I went to some place because we had to get some documents made. It was afternoon. So, we stopped for some sugarcane juice. There came a little boy. Maybe 8 years old asked for money my father said no to him. I said why did you say no just give him something. My father said this like business for them. His parents must be sitting somewhere and sent him to beg. When I got my glass of sugarcane juice. I went near him and asked him to take it. At first he was hesitant then he took it. I told my father that he's just a kid it's not his fault that his parents have left him to beg. We can give food if not money.
I just want to know why I feel so guilty about things. Even when it's not my fault.