Christopher and banks classic fit jeans
Male Fashion: we're all dressed by the internet
2011.04.02 03:42 RaiseYourGlass Male Fashion: we're all dressed by the internet
A place for designer, avant garde, queer, and other experimental fashion.
2023.03.27 02:35 Piratedad83 [USA-CO] [H] Nintendo Games and Consoles: NES, SNES, N64, Gamecube, Wii, Wii U, Switch, Gameboy, Gameboy Color, Gameboy Advance, DS, 3DS [W] Paypal
Hey all! Paring down some parts of my collection. Happy to post pics of anything that you might be interested in. Shipping is $5 for the first game or 2, and then goes up from there as needed. Shipping for consoles will be around $15, depending on where you live.
Check out my Playstation games post here:
https://www.reddit.com/GameSale/comments/11twspi/usaco_h_playstation_games_ps1_ps2_ps3_ps4_psp_w/
Check out my Sega and Xbox games here:
https://www.reddit.com/GameSale/comments/11ntjx3/usaco_h_sega_and_xbox_games_genesis_dreamcast_og/
NES (Cartridge Only)
NES console, power cable, AV cable, controller $80
Adventures of Dino-Riki $8
Baseball Stars $12
Batman $15
California Games $10
Championship Bowling $5
Double Dragon $15
Excitebike $10
Lee Trevino's Fighting Golf $5
Mike Tyson's Punchout $35
M.U.S.C.L.E $15
NES Play Action Football $3
Orb 3D $8
Pro Wrestling $7
The Punisher $25
Racket Attack $5
Rad Racer $5
RBI Baseball (Gray cartridge) $10
Ring King $10
Rygar $15
Silent Service $5
Skate or Die $5
Spy Hunter $8
Super Mario Bros. / Duck Hunt / World Class Track Meet $8
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles $5
Tiger-Heli $6
SNES (Cartridge Only)
SNES Console, power cable, AV cable, controller $100
Acme Animation Factory $15
Claymates $15
King of the Monsters $15
Monopoly $5
Pinball Dreams $10
Populous $5
Super Game Boy $30
Super Mario World $20
Roger Clemens MVP Baseballe $5
Top Gear $10
WWF Super Wrestlemania $10
Nintendo 64 (Cartridge Only)
Nintendo 64 console, power cable, AV cable, controller $100
Cruis'n USA $15
Doom 64 $35
NFL Quarterback Club 98 $3
NFL Quarterback Club 99 $3
NHL '99 $5
Perfect Dark $20
Rampage: World Tour $25
Star Fox 64 $25
Star Wars: Episode 1 Racer $10
Star Wars: Rogue Squadron $15
Star Wars: Shadow of the Empire $15
Super Mario 64 $45
Superman 64 $15
Wrestlemania 2000 $10
WWF Warzone $5
Gamecube (CIB unless noted)
Lego: Star Wars: The Video Game (Case and Disc) $10
Monster House (Case and Disc) $10
Nickelodeon: Party Blast (Case and Disc) $8
Power Rangers: Dino Thunder $8
Resident Evil 3: Nemesis $100
Sonic Mega Collection $15
Spider-Man (Case and Disc) $10
Spider-Man 2 (Disc only) $5
Super Monkey Ball (Case and Disc) $20
Wii (CIB unless noted)
Ben 10: Galactic Racing $5
Ben 10: Protector of Earth $5
Build 'n Race $5
Call of Duty: Black Ops $5
Carnival Games $5
Disney Sing It: Family Hits (No manual) $10
EA Active: Personal Trainer $5
Family Fest presents Movie Games $3
Guinness World Records: The Videogame $3
Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock $20
Guitar Hero: World Tour $15
Just Dance 2 $5
Just Dance 3 $5
Just Dance Kids (Disc only) $3
The Last Airbender $10
Link's Crossbow Training (Disc only) $4
Looney Tunes: Acme Arsenal (No manual) $5
Mario Kart Wii $35
Mario Party 8 $30
Mario Strikers Charged $15
Minute to Win (New/Sealed) $5
Monkey Mischief! (Disc only) $3
My Sims: Agents (Disc only) $3
My Sims: Kingdom $5
My Word Coach $5
Neo Pets: Puzzle Adventure (Disc only) $3
Nerf: N-Strike $5
New Super Mario Bros. Wii - $25
Ni Hao Kai-lan: Super Game Day (Disc only) $3
Petz: Crazy Monkey (No manual) $5
Puzzle Kingdoms $5
Rapala: We Fish $5
Rayman: Raving Rabbids $5
Rayman: Raving Rabbids 2 (No manual) $5
Resident Evil 4: Wii Edition $15
Rockband $20
Sim Animals: Africa $5
Skate It $5
Skylanders Giants (Disc only) $3
Skylanders: Giants $5
Skylanders: Spyro's Adventure (No manual) $5
Skylanders: Spyro's Adventure $5
Smarty Pants (No manual) $3
Speed Racer: The Video Game $5
Squeeballs Party $5
Star Wars: Clone Wars - Lightsaber Duels (Disc only) $3
Super Paper Mario (No manual) $15
The Price is Right: Decades (No manual) $5
The Sky Crawlers: Innocent Aces (No manual) $5
Thrillville: Off the Rails (No manual) $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 07 (No manual) $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 08 $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 09: All play $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 10 (No manual) $5
Ultimate Band $5
Wacky Races: Crash & Dash $15
Wario Ware: Smooth Moves (Disc only) $10
Wii Fit $5
Wii Music $3
Wii Sports (Disc only) $20
Wonder World: Amusement Park $5
Zoo Hospital (No manual) $5
Zumba Fitness 2 $3
Wii U (CIB unless noted)
Disney Infinity (No manual) $5
Disney Infinity 2.0 $5
Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze (No manual) $10
Epic Mickey 2: The Power of Two (No manual) $5
Family Party 30 Great Games: Obstacle Course (No manual) $5
Just Dance 2015 $5
Just Dance 2015 (Disc only) $3
Just Dance 2016 $5
Just Dance 2016 (No manual) $5
Just Dance 2017 (No manual) $5
Madden 13 $10
Mario Kart 8 (Disc only) $10
Minecraft: Wii U Edition $15
Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventure (Disc and manual) $10
Skylanders: Super Chargers (No manual) $5
Skylanders: Swap Force (No manual) $5
Skylanders: Trap Team (No manual) $5
Smurfs 2 $20
Splatoon $15
Super Mario 3D World (No manual) $15
Super Mario Maker (No manual) $5
Nintendo Switch (CIB unless noted)
Gundam G: Generations Crossrays (JPN) (Cartridge only) $40
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild $45
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Cartridge only) $35
Minecraft Dungeons: Hero Edition (JPN) (Cartridge only) $20
Pokemon: Brilliant Diamond (JPN) (Cartridge only) $25
Pokemon: Shining Pearl (JPN) (Cartridge only) $25
Pokemon Legends: Arceus (JPN) (Cartridge only) $30
Super Mario 3D All-Stars (JPN) (Cartridge only) $40
Super Mario Odyssey $45
Super Mario Odyssey (Cartridge only) $35
Super Mario Party (JPN) (Cartridge only) $20
Gameboy (Cartridge only)
Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle $5
Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle 2 $5
Donkey Kong (1994) $20
Game & Watch Gallery $10
In Your Face $5
Monopoly $5
Xenon 2 $30
Gameboy Color (Cartridge only)
A Bug's Life $5
Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle 4 $20
The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening DX $45
Mario Tennis $15
Rampage: World Tour $5
Gameboy Advance (Cartridge only unless noted)
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory $5
Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe $4
Disney Princess $5
Finding Nemo: The Continuing Adventures $5
Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events $5
Mega Man Zero 2 $35
Midnight Club Street Racing $5
Monster Jam: Maximum Destruction (Box and manual, no game) $10
Nicktoons Unite (Box and manual, no game) $7
Pac-Man Collection $5
Spider-Man (Box and manual, no game) $15
Spyro: Season of Ice $7
Star Wars: The New Droid Army $5
Street Fighter Alpha 3 $45
The Sims: Bustin' Out $15
Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2 $10
Nintendo DS (Cartridge only unless noted)
50 Classic Games (CIB) $5
Avatar: The Last Airbender $15
Backyard Sports: Rookie Rush $3
Barbie Horse Adventures: Riding Camp $5
Brain Age $3
Cars: MaterNational Championships $5
Deer Drive $5
Diner Dash: Flo on the Go (CIB) $15
Final Fantasy III (CIB) $25
Finding Nemo: Escape to the Big Blue $5
Insecticide $5
Madden 08 $5
Madden 09 $10
Major League Baseball 2K11 $5
Mario Party DS $10
My French Coach (CIB) $5
Nintendogs: Dachshund & Friends $5
Nintendogs (PAL) $5
Phineas and Ferb: Across the 2nd Dimension (CIB) $5
Puss in Boots (CIB) $5
Quest Trio (CIB) $5
Sonic & Sega All-Stars Racing $8
Spore: Creatures (CIB) $10
Zubo $5
Nintendo 3DS (Cartridge only unless noted)
Code Name: STEAM $5
Miitopia $20
The Legend of Korra: A New Era Begins $5
Tomodachi Life (Case and Disc) $40
Wario Ware Gold $35
Wipeout 2 (CIB) $5
Young Justice: Legacy $5
submitted by Piratedad83 to GameSale [link] [comments]
Check out my Playstation games post here:
https://www.reddit.com/GameSale/comments/11twspi/usaco_h_playstation_games_ps1_ps2_ps3_ps4_psp_w/
Check out my Sega and Xbox games here:
https://www.reddit.com/GameSale/comments/11ntjx3/usaco_h_sega_and_xbox_games_genesis_dreamcast_og/
NES (Cartridge Only)
NES console, power cable, AV cable, controller $80
Adventures of Dino-Riki $8
Baseball Stars $12
Batman $15
California Games $10
Championship Bowling $5
Double Dragon $15
Excitebike $10
Lee Trevino's Fighting Golf $5
Mike Tyson's Punchout $35
M.U.S.C.L.E $15
NES Play Action Football $3
Orb 3D $8
Pro Wrestling $7
The Punisher $25
Racket Attack $5
Rad Racer $5
RBI Baseball (Gray cartridge) $10
Ring King $10
Rygar $15
Silent Service $5
Skate or Die $5
Spy Hunter $8
Super Mario Bros. / Duck Hunt / World Class Track Meet $8
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles $5
Tiger-Heli $6
SNES (Cartridge Only)
SNES Console, power cable, AV cable, controller $100
Acme Animation Factory $15
Claymates $15
King of the Monsters $15
Monopoly $5
Pinball Dreams $10
Populous $5
Super Game Boy $30
Super Mario World $20
Roger Clemens MVP Baseballe $5
Top Gear $10
WWF Super Wrestlemania $10
Nintendo 64 (Cartridge Only)
Nintendo 64 console, power cable, AV cable, controller $100
Cruis'n USA $15
Doom 64 $35
NFL Quarterback Club 98 $3
NFL Quarterback Club 99 $3
NHL '99 $5
Perfect Dark $20
Rampage: World Tour $25
Star Fox 64 $25
Star Wars: Episode 1 Racer $10
Star Wars: Rogue Squadron $15
Star Wars: Shadow of the Empire $15
Super Mario 64 $45
Superman 64 $15
Wrestlemania 2000 $10
WWF Warzone $5
Gamecube (CIB unless noted)
Lego: Star Wars: The Video Game (Case and Disc) $10
Monster House (Case and Disc) $10
Nickelodeon: Party Blast (Case and Disc) $8
Power Rangers: Dino Thunder $8
Resident Evil 3: Nemesis $100
Sonic Mega Collection $15
Spider-Man (Case and Disc) $10
Spider-Man 2 (Disc only) $5
Super Monkey Ball (Case and Disc) $20
Wii (CIB unless noted)
Ben 10: Galactic Racing $5
Ben 10: Protector of Earth $5
Build 'n Race $5
Call of Duty: Black Ops $5
Carnival Games $5
Disney Sing It: Family Hits (No manual) $10
EA Active: Personal Trainer $5
Family Fest presents Movie Games $3
Guinness World Records: The Videogame $3
Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock $20
Guitar Hero: World Tour $15
Just Dance 2 $5
Just Dance 3 $5
Just Dance Kids (Disc only) $3
The Last Airbender $10
Link's Crossbow Training (Disc only) $4
Looney Tunes: Acme Arsenal (No manual) $5
Mario Kart Wii $35
Mario Party 8 $30
Mario Strikers Charged $15
Minute to Win (New/Sealed) $5
Monkey Mischief! (Disc only) $3
My Sims: Agents (Disc only) $3
My Sims: Kingdom $5
My Word Coach $5
Neo Pets: Puzzle Adventure (Disc only) $3
Nerf: N-Strike $5
New Super Mario Bros. Wii - $25
Ni Hao Kai-lan: Super Game Day (Disc only) $3
Petz: Crazy Monkey (No manual) $5
Puzzle Kingdoms $5
Rapala: We Fish $5
Rayman: Raving Rabbids $5
Rayman: Raving Rabbids 2 (No manual) $5
Resident Evil 4: Wii Edition $15
Rockband $20
Sim Animals: Africa $5
Skate It $5
Skylanders Giants (Disc only) $3
Skylanders: Giants $5
Skylanders: Spyro's Adventure (No manual) $5
Skylanders: Spyro's Adventure $5
Smarty Pants (No manual) $3
Speed Racer: The Video Game $5
Squeeballs Party $5
Star Wars: Clone Wars - Lightsaber Duels (Disc only) $3
Super Paper Mario (No manual) $15
The Price is Right: Decades (No manual) $5
The Sky Crawlers: Innocent Aces (No manual) $5
Thrillville: Off the Rails (No manual) $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 07 (No manual) $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 08 $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 09: All play $5
Tiger Woods PGA Tour 10 (No manual) $5
Ultimate Band $5
Wacky Races: Crash & Dash $15
Wario Ware: Smooth Moves (Disc only) $10
Wii Fit $5
Wii Music $3
Wii Sports (Disc only) $20
Wonder World: Amusement Park $5
Zoo Hospital (No manual) $5
Zumba Fitness 2 $3
Wii U (CIB unless noted)
Disney Infinity (No manual) $5
Disney Infinity 2.0 $5
Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze (No manual) $10
Epic Mickey 2: The Power of Two (No manual) $5
Family Party 30 Great Games: Obstacle Course (No manual) $5
Just Dance 2015 $5
Just Dance 2015 (Disc only) $3
Just Dance 2016 $5
Just Dance 2016 (No manual) $5
Just Dance 2017 (No manual) $5
Madden 13 $10
Mario Kart 8 (Disc only) $10
Minecraft: Wii U Edition $15
Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventure (Disc and manual) $10
Skylanders: Super Chargers (No manual) $5
Skylanders: Swap Force (No manual) $5
Skylanders: Trap Team (No manual) $5
Smurfs 2 $20
Splatoon $15
Super Mario 3D World (No manual) $15
Super Mario Maker (No manual) $5
Nintendo Switch (CIB unless noted)
Gundam G: Generations Crossrays (JPN) (Cartridge only) $40
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild $45
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Cartridge only) $35
Minecraft Dungeons: Hero Edition (JPN) (Cartridge only) $20
Pokemon: Brilliant Diamond (JPN) (Cartridge only) $25
Pokemon: Shining Pearl (JPN) (Cartridge only) $25
Pokemon Legends: Arceus (JPN) (Cartridge only) $30
Super Mario 3D All-Stars (JPN) (Cartridge only) $40
Super Mario Odyssey $45
Super Mario Odyssey (Cartridge only) $35
Super Mario Party (JPN) (Cartridge only) $20
Gameboy (Cartridge only)
Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle $5
Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle 2 $5
Donkey Kong (1994) $20
Game & Watch Gallery $10
In Your Face $5
Monopoly $5
Xenon 2 $30
Gameboy Color (Cartridge only)
A Bug's Life $5
Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle 4 $20
The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening DX $45
Mario Tennis $15
Rampage: World Tour $5
Gameboy Advance (Cartridge only unless noted)
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory $5
Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe $4
Disney Princess $5
Finding Nemo: The Continuing Adventures $5
Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events $5
Mega Man Zero 2 $35
Midnight Club Street Racing $5
Monster Jam: Maximum Destruction (Box and manual, no game) $10
Nicktoons Unite (Box and manual, no game) $7
Pac-Man Collection $5
Spider-Man (Box and manual, no game) $15
Spyro: Season of Ice $7
Star Wars: The New Droid Army $5
Street Fighter Alpha 3 $45
The Sims: Bustin' Out $15
Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2 $10
Nintendo DS (Cartridge only unless noted)
50 Classic Games (CIB) $5
Avatar: The Last Airbender $15
Backyard Sports: Rookie Rush $3
Barbie Horse Adventures: Riding Camp $5
Brain Age $3
Cars: MaterNational Championships $5
Deer Drive $5
Diner Dash: Flo on the Go (CIB) $15
Final Fantasy III (CIB) $25
Finding Nemo: Escape to the Big Blue $5
Insecticide $5
Madden 08 $5
Madden 09 $10
Major League Baseball 2K11 $5
Mario Party DS $10
My French Coach (CIB) $5
Nintendogs: Dachshund & Friends $5
Nintendogs (PAL) $5
Phineas and Ferb: Across the 2nd Dimension (CIB) $5
Puss in Boots (CIB) $5
Quest Trio (CIB) $5
Sonic & Sega All-Stars Racing $8
Spore: Creatures (CIB) $10
Zubo $5
Nintendo 3DS (Cartridge only unless noted)
Code Name: STEAM $5
Miitopia $20
The Legend of Korra: A New Era Begins $5
Tomodachi Life (Case and Disc) $40
Wario Ware Gold $35
Wipeout 2 (CIB) $5
Young Justice: Legacy $5
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Okita Anuskha Sen Apples Ellie April Olsen Arabteen Bella Jameel Aria Taylor Ariella Ferrera Arizona Sky Arpa Roy Ash Kaash Ashley Tervort AshprincessMidna AspenRae Astrid Wett Audrey Shanice Aussie Ass Autumn Falls Ava Addams Ava Austen Ava Kox Avalon Hope Ayatan Ayumi Anime AyyeJae Baby Bianca Bad Penelope BaeBreanna Bambi Doe Barbie Gamers Barbie Nunez Becca Marie Becky Crocker Bella Luna Bella Poarch Bella Ramos Bella Thorne Belle Delphine Belle Jade BethanyLily Bhad Bhabie Bianca Anchieta Bianca Beauchamp BigTittyGothEgg Bishoujomom Blahgigi Blair Winters Blake Blossom Blonde Fit Blondie Fesser Body Teen Bombshell Mint Bonnie Locket BootyByShells Brandi Love Brandie Braids Brandy Renee Bree Louise Bria Myles Brianna Amor Brittany Elizabeth Brittany Jones Brittanya Adeline Brittanya Razavi Brndav BronkMommy Bunny Colby BurchTwins Calita Sweetz CallMeSloo Capbarista - urfavcoffegurl Carlie Marie Carly Lawrence Carmela Habibi Carmen Pritchet Carolina Bell CarrotCake Cece Rose Celina 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Welcome to the weekly AlgorandOfficial subreddit recap megathread. Here you can find a recap of last week's posts, with a minimum score of 5 and grouped by flair and sorted by score. S = Score, R = Ratio, C = Comments. Enjoy!
AMA - Ask Me Anything - [AMA] Algorand Inc Tech Team on the latest protocol release! S: 50, R: 0.96, C: 91
DeFi - Borderless Capital invests $100k with xBacked using gAlgo vaults S: 36, R: 0.91, C: 0 - Defly MultiSig support coming soon! S: 29, R: 0.92, C: 0
DevelopeTech - Algorand has released a new tool for blockchain data access: Conduit. Conduit is a modular plugin-based tool and a powerful upgrade to the one-size-fits-all Indexer. Conduit allows dapps to get exactly the data they need in an affordable deployment. S: 91, R: 0.99, C: 7 - Foundation CTO John Woods introduces @algodevs Algorand Developers youtube channel S: 91, R: 0.97, C: 5 - We're thrilled to launch our developer focused video series to assist builders in the Algorand ecosystem! S: 74, R: 0.99, C: 3 - Differentiate for clarity please friends. S: 22, R: 0.87, C: 9 - please support the linked PR to add a whole universe of dApps to Algorand S: 17, R: 0.84, C: 4 - New Tealish Website! S: 17, R: 0.9, C: 0 - Algorand Should Join the FIDO Alliance S: 15, R: 0.78, C: 1 - AlgoTools supports direct Ledger connection S: 9, R: 0.91, C: 0 - Pera Connect v1.2.1 is here! đ Enhancing stability and fixing connectivity issues S: 9, R: 1.0, C: 0 - đ¨ Up next on #FoundryTalks⌠Join Pera Wallet & Vantage Point for an eye-opening discussion on blockchain security on Algorand. đ¤ Plus, Mike Knott will be unveiling exciting features of Foundry Safe. S: 8, R: 0.83, C: 1
Education - promoted Algorand advertisements S: 20, R: 0.85, C: 3
Event/Livestream - Today, Silvio Micali will speak at Paris Blockchain Week S: 56, R: 0.95, C: 15 - Arul Murugan, Chairman of Borderless Capital, to host a Twitter Space (9am EST March 29) for the broader Algorand community to express their sentiments and recommendations S: 25, R: 0.89, C: 4 - Arul from Borderless Cap will host a twitter space "Voice of Algorand Community" S: 21, R: 0.9, C: 7 - Algorand Hack House, Hyderabad, March 24-26 S: 13, R: 0.89, C: 2 - Livestream: Paris Blockchain Week - Master stage. Silvio will speak at 3 pm CET S: 13, R: 0.93, C: 2 - Paris Blockchain Week - part where Silvio speaks S: 11, R: 0.87, C: 2
Exchange/Wallet - Insure Nimble CEO passes along FBI Agent's words of admiration for the Algorand Community following recent hack S: 85, R: 0.95, C: 8 - Why didn't MyAlgo support rekeyed addresses? S: 14, R: 0.85, C: 12 - Pera iOS 5.8.0: New Onramp/Offramp options are here!đ S: 13, R: 0.88, C: 2 - Hereâs A Tutorial Video that Shows You How To Create A Secure Multi-Signature Account For Managing Assets on Algorand. Stay Safe with Foundry Safe! S: 9, R: 0.85, C: 0
Governance - Less than 1 week until Folks Finance gALGO Redeem opens!! S: 17, R: 0.95, C: 10 - Governance Period S: 13, R: 1.0, C: 10 - PactFi to offer Governance-Friendly Farms S: 11, R: 0.87, C: 0 - Question S: 10, R: 0.92, C: 20 - Staci Warden Acknowledges Coinbase Algo staking changes.... S: 8, R: 0.7, C: 8
Important - Sean Ford transitions to Senior Strategic Advisor at Algorand Inc S: 55, R: 0.97, C: 16 - MyAlgo Incident: Summary of preliminary findings. MITM attack S: 27, R: 0.91, C: 11 - Support for AlgoSigner will be discontinued on March 31st, 2023. S: 13, R: 1.0, C: 1
Megathread - AlgorandOfficial Weekly Recap: Mar 13 - Mar 20 2023 S: 7, R: 0.82, C: 1
NFT/Gaming
News/Media - Silvio Commits to More Day-to-Day Operations Involvement S: 162, R: 0.98, C: 29 - National Savings Bank (NSB), Sri Lankaâs premier financial services provider and 3rd largest bank in the country, marked a milestone by unveiling South Asiaâs first Self Sovereign Identity (SSID) solution on blockchain for its customers powered by FlexID (Algorand) S: 135, R: 0.99, C: 18 - Algorand partners with State of Telangana (india) to develop solutions that supports sustainable production, product traceability & transparency, & financing & development of carbon offsetting projects. S: 118, R: 0.99, C: 10 - MyAlgo Incident: Summary of preliminary findings The preliminary investigation reveals that the attackers employed a MITM attack technique by exploiting the content delivery platform (CDN) to set up a malicious proxy. S: 86, R: 0.98, C: 68 - As FlexId expands the reach of its Algorand-based digital identity solution, Matt Keller shares his thoughts on the need for a robust digital identity infrastructure and how it could unlock human potential for billions. S: 37, R: 0.97, C: 0 - The cowards at RandLabs removed MyAlgo from their product list S: 31, R: 0.79, C: 47 - AlgoKit is coming. Get notified when AlgoKit arrives. S: 27, R: 0.89, C: 3 - Silvio speaks S: 24, R: 0.93, C: 8 - Canada SailGP Team Wins In New Zealand S: 22, R: 0.89, C: 2 - Introducing: Algorand's data Conduit S: 17, R: 1.0, C: 1 - An update on your Algorand rewards (Coinbase) S: 14, R: 0.85, C: 7 - Cables Finance now supports Wallet Connect S: 11, R: 0.87, C: 1 - đđťDear AlgoFamđ đRamadan Kareem! Let's enhance our spirituality, help others, and spread kindness. May this month strengthen our bonds of unity and fairnessđđ¤˛đźâ¤ď¸ S: 7, R: 0.64, C: 3
Question - How does Algorand's unique consensus algorithm, called Pure Proof of Stake (PPoS), solve the "trilemma" problem that often plagues other blockchain networks, namely the tradeoff between security, scalability, and decentralization? S: 29, R: 0.91, C: 9 - In what ways can Algorand's blockchain be utilized in industries beyond finance and cryptocurrency? S: 26, R: 0.88, C: 17 - Reddit tipbot S: 11, R: 1.0, C: 2
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AMA - Ask Me Anything - [AMA] Algorand Inc Tech Team on the latest protocol release! S: 50, R: 0.96, C: 91
DeFi - Borderless Capital invests $100k with xBacked using gAlgo vaults S: 36, R: 0.91, C: 0 - Defly MultiSig support coming soon! S: 29, R: 0.92, C: 0
DevelopeTech - Algorand has released a new tool for blockchain data access: Conduit. Conduit is a modular plugin-based tool and a powerful upgrade to the one-size-fits-all Indexer. Conduit allows dapps to get exactly the data they need in an affordable deployment. S: 91, R: 0.99, C: 7 - Foundation CTO John Woods introduces @algodevs Algorand Developers youtube channel S: 91, R: 0.97, C: 5 - We're thrilled to launch our developer focused video series to assist builders in the Algorand ecosystem! S: 74, R: 0.99, C: 3 - Differentiate for clarity please friends. S: 22, R: 0.87, C: 9 - please support the linked PR to add a whole universe of dApps to Algorand S: 17, R: 0.84, C: 4 - New Tealish Website! S: 17, R: 0.9, C: 0 - Algorand Should Join the FIDO Alliance S: 15, R: 0.78, C: 1 - AlgoTools supports direct Ledger connection S: 9, R: 0.91, C: 0 - Pera Connect v1.2.1 is here! đ Enhancing stability and fixing connectivity issues S: 9, R: 1.0, C: 0 - đ¨ Up next on #FoundryTalks⌠Join Pera Wallet & Vantage Point for an eye-opening discussion on blockchain security on Algorand. đ¤ Plus, Mike Knott will be unveiling exciting features of Foundry Safe. S: 8, R: 0.83, C: 1
Education - promoted Algorand advertisements S: 20, R: 0.85, C: 3
Event/Livestream - Today, Silvio Micali will speak at Paris Blockchain Week S: 56, R: 0.95, C: 15 - Arul Murugan, Chairman of Borderless Capital, to host a Twitter Space (9am EST March 29) for the broader Algorand community to express their sentiments and recommendations S: 25, R: 0.89, C: 4 - Arul from Borderless Cap will host a twitter space "Voice of Algorand Community" S: 21, R: 0.9, C: 7 - Algorand Hack House, Hyderabad, March 24-26 S: 13, R: 0.89, C: 2 - Livestream: Paris Blockchain Week - Master stage. Silvio will speak at 3 pm CET S: 13, R: 0.93, C: 2 - Paris Blockchain Week - part where Silvio speaks S: 11, R: 0.87, C: 2
Exchange/Wallet - Insure Nimble CEO passes along FBI Agent's words of admiration for the Algorand Community following recent hack S: 85, R: 0.95, C: 8 - Why didn't MyAlgo support rekeyed addresses? S: 14, R: 0.85, C: 12 - Pera iOS 5.8.0: New Onramp/Offramp options are here!đ S: 13, R: 0.88, C: 2 - Hereâs A Tutorial Video that Shows You How To Create A Secure Multi-Signature Account For Managing Assets on Algorand. Stay Safe with Foundry Safe! S: 9, R: 0.85, C: 0
Governance - Less than 1 week until Folks Finance gALGO Redeem opens!! S: 17, R: 0.95, C: 10 - Governance Period S: 13, R: 1.0, C: 10 - PactFi to offer Governance-Friendly Farms S: 11, R: 0.87, C: 0 - Question S: 10, R: 0.92, C: 20 - Staci Warden Acknowledges Coinbase Algo staking changes.... S: 8, R: 0.7, C: 8
Important - Sean Ford transitions to Senior Strategic Advisor at Algorand Inc S: 55, R: 0.97, C: 16 - MyAlgo Incident: Summary of preliminary findings. MITM attack S: 27, R: 0.91, C: 11 - Support for AlgoSigner will be discontinued on March 31st, 2023. S: 13, R: 1.0, C: 1
Megathread - AlgorandOfficial Weekly Recap: Mar 13 - Mar 20 2023 S: 7, R: 0.82, C: 1
NFT/Gaming
News/Media - Silvio Commits to More Day-to-Day Operations Involvement S: 162, R: 0.98, C: 29 - National Savings Bank (NSB), Sri Lankaâs premier financial services provider and 3rd largest bank in the country, marked a milestone by unveiling South Asiaâs first Self Sovereign Identity (SSID) solution on blockchain for its customers powered by FlexID (Algorand) S: 135, R: 0.99, C: 18 - Algorand partners with State of Telangana (india) to develop solutions that supports sustainable production, product traceability & transparency, & financing & development of carbon offsetting projects. S: 118, R: 0.99, C: 10 - MyAlgo Incident: Summary of preliminary findings The preliminary investigation reveals that the attackers employed a MITM attack technique by exploiting the content delivery platform (CDN) to set up a malicious proxy. S: 86, R: 0.98, C: 68 - As FlexId expands the reach of its Algorand-based digital identity solution, Matt Keller shares his thoughts on the need for a robust digital identity infrastructure and how it could unlock human potential for billions. S: 37, R: 0.97, C: 0 - The cowards at RandLabs removed MyAlgo from their product list S: 31, R: 0.79, C: 47 - AlgoKit is coming. Get notified when AlgoKit arrives. S: 27, R: 0.89, C: 3 - Silvio speaks S: 24, R: 0.93, C: 8 - Canada SailGP Team Wins In New Zealand S: 22, R: 0.89, C: 2 - Introducing: Algorand's data Conduit S: 17, R: 1.0, C: 1 - An update on your Algorand rewards (Coinbase) S: 14, R: 0.85, C: 7 - Cables Finance now supports Wallet Connect S: 11, R: 0.87, C: 1 - đđťDear AlgoFamđ đRamadan Kareem! Let's enhance our spirituality, help others, and spread kindness. May this month strengthen our bonds of unity and fairnessđđ¤˛đźâ¤ď¸ S: 7, R: 0.64, C: 3
Question - How does Algorand's unique consensus algorithm, called Pure Proof of Stake (PPoS), solve the "trilemma" problem that often plagues other blockchain networks, namely the tradeoff between security, scalability, and decentralization? S: 29, R: 0.91, C: 9 - In what ways can Algorand's blockchain be utilized in industries beyond finance and cryptocurrency? S: 26, R: 0.88, C: 17 - Reddit tipbot S: 11, R: 1.0, C: 2
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2023.03.27 02:21 StepwiseUndrape574 The soundtrack is another important aspect of the Grand Theft Auto series
The soundtrack is another important aspect of the Grand Theft Auto series. With each game, Rockstar Games has curated a diverse selection of songs that fit the game's setting and tone. Fans are hoping that GTA 6 will feature an equally impressive soundtrack, with everything from classic rock to modern hip hop.
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2023.03.27 02:09 bruhmomentyetagain Need some advice
Hello! I know a little about computers, but when it comes to the best parts to fit together, that's where I start to struggle. I want to upgrade my GPU. My 1070ti is starting to show its age. I want to upgrade to a 3060, not a 3060ti. (specifically MSI GeForce RTX 3060 Gaming X12G)
Currently, I have 32gigs of ddr4 ram at 3600 speed, an i7700k, and an Asus STRIX Z270-E GAMING ATX LGA1151 Motherboard. I play my games in 1080p.
If it matters, I have a 750w power supply, but I don't think I've ever even come close to reaching that limit.
Basically, I'm trying to see if I can suffice with just upgrading my GPU, which would be ideal so I don't have to break-bank, or if I'll need to wait even longer to upgrade my PC.
Thanks in advance!
submitted by bruhmomentyetagain to buildapc [link] [comments]
Currently, I have 32gigs of ddr4 ram at 3600 speed, an i7700k, and an Asus STRIX Z270-E GAMING ATX LGA1151 Motherboard. I play my games in 1080p.
If it matters, I have a 750w power supply, but I don't think I've ever even come close to reaching that limit.
Basically, I'm trying to see if I can suffice with just upgrading my GPU, which would be ideal so I don't have to break-bank, or if I'll need to wait even longer to upgrade my PC.
Thanks in advance!
2023.03.27 02:07 Trash_Tia I've been talking to the boy next door through my bedroom window for a while. His latest messages are freaking me out.
I want to talk to you about the boy next door.
I first noticed him when we arrived here. Mom was moving in all of our boxes and furniture, and I was sitting on one of momâs boxes labelled âfragileâ downing ice-cold lemonade.
It wasnât exactly the weather for cold drinks, but I was pooped after spending my morning and half of my afternoon going back and forth with all of our stuff. It was just a glimpse.
One of the movers asked me to help him with a box of kitchen equipment. I was struggling to get a proper grip of it, twisting around to shout that I needed helpâwhen I saw him.
Not much of a person, more of a shadow poking from behind the fence. What I could make out was a tallish figure and mousey hair.
I lifted my hand in a greeting, but the guy walked away. I didnât think much of it.
Maybe he was shy.
Though I was curious about my neighbors. I was expecting them to join the parade of families on our doorstep harbouring every food you can imagine, but they stayed away. I did know a family existed next door, however. There was a large wooden fence separating us. So, if I really wanted to talk to them Iâd either have to grow several feet taller or invest in stilts. Iâm not sure why I was so obsessed with meeting them.
I knew they had kids my age. I could hear them.
Whether they were arguing over video games, or laughing at something trivial, I could always hear them when I was sitting on our wooden porch or helping mom clean our yard.
According to mom, who heard it from the nice lady across the street, our neighbors were called the Wilders.
There was a single mom, and her four teenage kids.
Huh, I thought. So the mystery shadow guy must have been a Wilder kid.
I was told to not get too excited, though. Apparently, Mrs Wilder was very protective over her children and home-schooled them.
So, there was no chance of me making friends or even getting to know them. On our second day in our new home, mom told me over breakfast that Mrs Wilder had sent out a polite notice to the neighbourhood that her children were not to be disturbed or talked to. Which was crazy. I thought that was weird. But mom understood itâand to my annoyance, accepted the womanâs notice. I was warned not to talk to the Wilder children.
And if I did, that was an automatic week grounding. Which meant no diner, no seeing friends after school, and my phone privileges taken away. According to her, she figured they were just a private family and wanted to accept that. She theorised the kids had been bullied at public school and had to be home-schooled. But I was sceptical. âAll of them?â Iâd asked her through a mouthful of cereal.
âPhoebe.â Mom sent me a warning look, sipping her coffee. âWhat weâre going to do is respect Mrs Wilderâs wishes.â
âItâs child abuse.â I muttered into my frosted flakes. Only for mom to reach across the table and poke me with the prongs of her fork.
âOw!â
âDonât play with your food.â
âIâm not playing with my food.â I held up a spoonful of soggy cereal. âYou just never get the chocolate brand. These taste like sandpaper.â
âWe are going to be respectable neighbors,â mom said, ignoring me. âSo, you are not going to speak to those kids. Do you understand?â
I knew mom only wanted to abide by the weird rules because she was obsessed with joining the momâs club, or whatever they were called, but it didnât make sense to me that his woman wasnât letting her own kids have a social life.
At a younger age, maybe eleven or twelve, I could understand. But seventeen? That was almost college age. What, was she expecting to coddle them forever?
Did she really think these kids were going to stay with her? Seventeen was the age of finding first loves and making mistakes. Not staying at home with mommy dearest. âOkay, but would you do this to me?â I asked her. âWould you really lock me up and stop me from going outside and living my life?â
Mom had been spreading butter on bread. I didnât realise her mood had drastically changed until she was almost slicing her finger with the knife. âYou donât know this yet because you are far too young,â she lifted her head, her lips curving into a smile. âBut there is something called a motherâs instinct. When our children are born, we are overcome with an almost⌠feral need to protect them from danger. If you look it up, it is present is every creature. Every mother. Our children are worth more than ourselves. We give our own lives to keep them alive. You can roll your eyes and say itâs stupid, but Iâm sure as soon as you have your own child, you will feel the exact same with them.â
She nodded at me. âI had that with you. I⌠I still have it with you, Phoebe. No matter how old you are. When you were a baby, I wanted to hold you in my arms every second of every day. I hated it when people wanted to hold you, and you were such a clingy baby. Always cradled to my chest. As you grew up, I started to understand that you were seeing the world for the first time and you needed your own time and space. I let you take your first steps on your own. I cried when you said your first wordâand when I grabbed your hand and raced down the kindergarten steps for the first time. Letting you go was painful. And if I had a choice in the matter? Yes, I would keep you in here. I would stop you from going outside and seeing this world.â She dropped the knife with a startling, metallic clang, before picking it back up.
âBecause this planet is a scary place, Phoebe. And as motherâs, it is our job to keep our kids safe. Even if that means going to the slightest of extremes.â
âSlightest of extremes?â I scoffed, despite knowing I was being pedantic. âThey have to fly the nest! Thatâs called growing up!â
Ignoring her glare, I continued.
âYes, I believe in motherâs instinct. But at what point do you have to look at yourself and realise youâre being ridiculous? Seventeen year olds arenât infants. They wonât just blindly walk into traffic. They have self-awareness of what is wrong and right.â
I pointed at myself. âYou let me drive, right? I got my license. Where was your âmother instinctâ when I got myself a big-girl vehicle I could easily have an accident in?â
Mom curled her lip. âDonât push it.â
Leaning across the table, I fixed her with a smile. âSee? You trust me, mom. You let me grow up. Thatâs the difference between you and Mrs Wilder. Kids have to grow up. No matter what the circumstances are. Itâs just part of being human. We all grow up and leave our parents.â
I sent her a look, stirring the soggy soup of my cereal. âWell. Unless youâre Mrs Wilder.â
Mom finished her coffee and stood up. âYou donât even know these children. They could be in any stage of development which makes them very different to you. All kids mentally age at different points.â
She took her plate to the faucet and dumped it in the bowl. Mom washed the dishes when she was angry or stressed, and she was really going to town on our brand new pattern plates. I saw that as a mark of finality. âIâm done talking about this, okay? Youâre not eighteen yet which means you abide by my rules, and really, Phoebe, Iâm not exactly holding you prisoner. Iâm just asking you to be polite and follow a simple rule which is not hard. We are a new family, and we need to make a good impression. Which means no talking to Mrs Wilderâs children.â She cleared her throat.
âRespect our neighbourâs wishes or lose your phone.â
Ducking my head, I continued to stir my cereal into a mushy soup which had quickly become unappetising. It looked like barf. I pushed it away. âYou only want me to follow the rules so you can get into Mrs Beckerâs book club and go on Pilate dates with middle aged Karenâs.â
Mom dropped a plate in the sink, and the sound of the splash made me flinch slightly.
âIs that understood?â
âYes.â I said, rolling my eyes. âObviously, I will abide by this streetâs draconian rules so I can continue scrolling through Tik-Tok.â
It was sarcasm, but I wasnât sure my mother could detect it. She was so blinded by becoming one with our neighbors.
Why was she so obsessed with meeting all the other momâs anyway?
Was she planning on setting me up on a playdate with 3 year old Evie? I wouldnât put it past her doing that for the brownie points.
âGood. End of conversation.â Mom said, hurrying to get her jacket and bag. âIâm late for work, and you have an induction to get to.â
I wanted to argue further because this sounded unfair. The kids were teenagers, right? How were they not arguing against this? It seemed insane that they were going along with what their mother said. But I was aware of significant punishment if I broke this rule. So, I begrudgingly agreed. After my induction, I asked around new friends and classmates if anybody knew of the Wilder kids, and they did.
But they didnât want to elaborate on what they knew. I heard a lot of rumours with dead ends. Most of them involved a father who had walked out on them, and their mother going into ultra-protective mode in response. It sounded like these kids were bearing the brunt of a messy divorce. They were complete enigmaâs.
I didnât know anything about them except from their insanely overprotective motherâs wicked grip on them. I gave up being curious. Mom was serious about me not speaking not them. She gave me a lecture on respecting the womanâs privacy, and blah, blah, blah. I tuned out after five minutes, my attention flicking to an episode of Breaking Bad playing on the lounge TV.
The next few weeks were boring. Mom was invited to join Mrs Beckâs book club, so on Mondayâs at 5PM, I made myself scarce. I did exactly what mom said. I ignored the kids next door. My bedroom happened to be facing the room of one of the kids, but their dark blue curtains were always shut. Sometimes it was hard. When I was sitting in the yard, reading a book, I could hear them on the other side of the fence.
The boys were the most vocal, laughing and teasing each other. There was a point when I risked it. I jumped to my feet and got halfway across the expanse of grass, standing on the tips of my toes and trying to catch a peek. But mom was calling me inside. I swore she had eyes in the back of my head. Mom always knew when I was outside. When I was near the fence.
It wasnât until a month had gone by when I finally got a glimpse of a Wilder kid. I had just gotten back from school. Iâd dumped my backpack on my bed and grabbed my phone, slumping onto my bed to text my friends and mindlessly scroll through social media. I noticed movement at the corner of my eye, and when Iâd lifted my head, blinking rapidlyâthose same blue curtains which had shut me out for what felt so longâthey were open. Not just that.
I could see a bedroom smothered in personality. I glimpsed a hardwood desk strewn with paper and an expensive laptop, a blue bedspread, a beaten up guitar leaning against light green walls covered in old-school movie posters.
There were screwed up pieces of paper everywhere. I had to guess he was some kind of artist. The room was illuminated in the evening dim, a soft warm light bringing the room to life. A knock startled me, and my gaze flicked to the window.
There he was. The Wilder boy next door.
He was my age, maybe even older. This guy looked almost college aged. Which made it increasingly weirder that his mother would insist on babying him at the age of seventeen.
He was cute. The dorky kind of cute. He wore bulky glasses but was the type to instantly suit pretty much anything. If I could compare him to anyone, it would be the mental image in my head that my younger self had imagined Percy Jackson when I reads the books.
The guy looked comfortable in a sweater and jeans, mousey brown hair hanging in warm eyes. There was an inquisitive smile on his lips. I jumped up to open my window to speak to him, but he shook his headâand I quickly remembered his motherâs stupid rule which forbid us from talking. So, I got creative.
Give me a moment! I mouthed.
I expected him to ignore me and go back to what he was doing, but the guy straightened up and nodded, arching a brow.
He was intrigued.
I grabbed an old notebook and a pen and sat on my bed, scribbling a message. I wrote: âHello! So, youâre the kid under house arrest lmao.â
When I held it up, his smile pricked. He laughed. But I couldnât hear it. I could tell he had a dorky kind of laugh, a nasally one. The guy held up a hand for me to wait and rummaged on his desk. He quickly wrote out a message and held it up with a grin. He looked almost proud of his own message, and I couldnât resist my own smile. I expected him to curse his mother, maybe apologise for the lack of communication.
But instead, he simply wrote: âHello! Whatâs your name?â Followed by a slightly smudged smiley.
After a moment of consideration, momâs words echoing in my mind, I thought fuck it. âPhoebe.â I said. âYours?â
âItâs nice to meet you, Phoebe.â He responded. Which spanned multiple conversations which took up several of my notepads.
We talked about everything from school to his life at home. He had three siblings. Matilda, Freddie, and Issac. He liked to play the guitar and draw, but also apparently sucked at both. When I asked what his favourite TV show was, he looked confused for a moment before answering âAll of themâ. Following that odd answer, I asked if he liked Marvel, and again, he had that look again. A look of confusion.
But I knew he was trying to make a good impression. âWhat is Marvel?â He wrote back, this time his handwriting in a bubbly font. I could almost call his writing calligraphy. It practically danced off of the page. The Wilder boyâs strange answers made wonder if this kid had been home-schooled his whole life. He seemed way too polite. Kids were polite, sure.
There was a certain amount of respect you had to pay to your elders and parents.
But looking at this kid, I wasnât even sure he knew what a meme wasâor even the concept of a joke. He had no idea about one of the biggest movie franchise in the world, and his favourite celebrity was apparently âAll of themâ. In fact, he had answered âAll of themâ to several of my questions. His messages reminded me of my grandmaâs. Still though, he was good company. Though I made it my mission to convert him into a normal teenager.
I had to guess due to constantly being home and around the same people, this kid had zero social skills. I asked him what his favourite movie was, out of the posters on the wall. He had Kill Bill, Reservoir Dogs, and Fight Club.
Again, he looked confused. His head cocked to the side, and I had to physically point to them behind him.
âAll of them.â He wrote back with a smiley face.
Damn, this kid needed to see a movie which wasnât some educational shit. I bet his mother had turned him into perfect member of society.
âWhat have you seen?â I couldnât help asking him. âLike, movies, TV shows. Do you play video games?â
He shook his head before scribbling back. âWhat is that?â
Holy shit, this kid was completely cut off from the outside world.
I was already mentally thinking up plans to get him out of the house and to a party, or something like that. From the look of this kids faceâa slightly blank if not completely innocent smileâhe needed time away from home. Away from his overprotective motherâs wicked grasp.
After a while, I realised he never told me his name. I didnât notice time go by. Almost three hours, and Iâd spent most of it lecturing him on movies and TV shows he really should have known. I guessed Mrs Wilder didnât let him watch the TV. My gaze flicked to his laptop. And I wouldnât have been surprised if she had blocked out all social media. My notepad was full of scribbles and doodles, an attempt at copying his handwriting style. The sky was blooming into twilight outside, thick orange and cotton candy pink streaking the horizon. I have always loved a pre-twilight sky.
âWhatâs your name?â I wrote in marker pen, before holding up my notepad. I was running out of paper. I could hear mom downstairs preparing dinner, and I could tell from his diminishing smile Mrs Wilder was probably shouting for him to go downstairs.
He didnât reply for a while. I watched him put the pad down, before heading over to his desk and cleaning up the paperâevery trace we had been talking and dumping each response heâd given in the trash. Before he slumped onto his bed, wrote something down in several strokes, before holding it up for me to see. âCasper.â Heâd written. âMy name is Casper Wilder.â
For a moment, his expression changed completely. He glanced at the door, before frowning at the pad of paper in his lap.
It looked like he wanted to write more, before twisting around, his eyes widening. Someone was coming. I could tell by the look on his face.
The knot between his brows.
Casper gathered everything heâd been using to write to me, pens and pencils, scraps of paper and the backs of movie posters, and shoving them under his bed. Then he grabbed the curtains and pulled them closed, blocking me out once again. I thought heâd come back, but after standing like an idiot with an odd feeling in my gut, frowning at his curtains, I realised he was finished talking to me for the night. What I expected was that to be it. I didnât think heâd come back. The next morning, however, he was back at his window, smiling at me through a mouthful of toothpaste. He was still in his pyjamas, unbrushed curls falling in sleepy eyes.
He looked strange without his glasses. Like his face was too bare. The more I took him in, though. Something was⌠different. Though I couldnât make it out. It hit me then.
Casper wasnât moving, staying in the same position. The night before, he had gone to and from his bed, hurrying around to grab equipment to write with. But now he was stood, looking more shadow than human. I was quick to dive for my notepad, but Casper was already holding up his own greeting with a grin. âGood morning, Phoebe! How are you feeling today?â
âTired.â I wrote back, my writing barely comprehensible. âDo you have school?â
âYES.â He responded with an excited smile. âIâm so excited to learn! Do you have a favourite class?â
I laughed at that. And after looking confused, he copied my laugh. Which made me laugh harder.
âNone of them!â I scribbled back. âSchool is boring!â
Casper shrugged. âI like it. I have a great tutor.â
âReally?â This time, I drew an attempt at the rolling eyes emoji. âYou shouldnât be excited for school. Weirdo.â
He curled his lip. âYouâre the weirdo.â He wrote back. Casper paused, chewing on the lid of the pen, before writing, âWhatâs a weirdo?â
âYouâre kidding!â This time, with too much vigour, I pointed to him with a laugh. âYou! Youâre the weirdo!â
We talked as I got ready for school, gathering all my books and homework. I was stuffing my gym clothes in my bag, when I noticed something was on the ground behind Casper. Looking closer, it looked like a chord. Like a long cable sort of thing. I thought it was for a games console, but then I remembered he had no idea what a video game was. I didnât question what it was for a while. We talked every night, about everything and nothing.
I told Casper about school and friends, filling up every piece of paper we had in the house, and he told me about his siblings. They were all the same age, and all enjoyed school. His brother was a piano prodigy, while his sisterâs strongest subjects were math. Casper told me he felt like the odd one out being the artist of the family, and I quickly told him that creativity was the best part of a person.
He showed me his drawings. And to my confusion, and slight disgust, they were all of his mother. They were goodâsure. His skills were Ivy League worthy. Perfect shading. Everything about the drawings were perfect.
But the fact that his muse was his motherâit put a weird taste in my mouth. He showed me each drawing, his smile widening with excitement. While I nodded and pretended to be impressed. Well, I was.
Though it became startlingly obvious that Casper didnât have a choice who he drew. He didnât draw fruit or landscapes, or even the sky. We live in a picturesque town, the perfect canvas for an artist. However, Mrs Wilder was at the centre of every single fucking drawing and painting, ink blot. Even with different styles and angles, she was always there. And Casper Wilder saw no wrong in it. He saw absolutely no fucking wrong in this woman taking control of every aspect of his life. His social life, his friends, education and hobbies.
I half expected him to grab his guitar and start singing about her through the glass. I couldnât take it anymore. It was driving me crazy. We continued to talk through writing to each other, but soon enough the only subject was his mother. Casper asked me if I could rate a drawing he was working on. It was her. Of course it was. I ignored him, getting to my feet and holding up the sign I had written weeks before. But I was too scared to show him.
I didnât want to ruin our friendship, but I had to know. I had to know several things which had been keeping me up all night
âWhy are you okay with your mother controlling your life?â I asked in bold letters.
And below that: âAlso⌠Iâve been wondering this for a while. But what is that thing behind you?â
The thing behind him was at the centre of my thoughts. Iâd worked out it wasnât a chord for a TV or a games console. Not even a laptop, or for his guitar. Not to mention it was always there. Morning and evening, even at night when I spied him getting ready for bed. This thing was always on the floor, snaked across his bed. Sometimes it was even wrapped up on his desk. I couldnât understand the length of it. I asked friends at school, and even the internet. But my descriptions didnât do it justice. A long, silver chord like thing which didnât have an end.
Casper blinked at my message. Before he ducked his head and started writing before holding up his response.
âI love my mom.â He said, doodling a little heart. âShe doesnât control my life. I like that sheâs in it.â
Below that, a follow up message which twisted my gut. âWhat do you mean? I donât see anything, Phoebe.â
Tapping my pad with my pen, I struggled to think of a response. There was no way he couldnât see this thing. It was pretty hard to miss. Instead of writing, I pointed behind him.
âThat!â I mouthed, using my lips for the first time. It felt good to actually talk to him. Even if a window of glass separated us.
âWhat?â His handwriting was slipping slightly. And I noticed his hands were visibly shaking. âWhat can you see, Phoebe?â
This time, he stood up. I noticed something change in him, the notepad slipping off his knee. Casper turned around, scanning the room.
Before his eyes finally found the cord-thing. His smile seemed to dampen, eyes going wide, fists clenching.
âCasper?â I hurriedly wrote when he didnât move for a while. His gaze was glued to the chord. I watched his eye follow it around the room, before his hand slowly raised, trembling fingers moving to his neck, and then the back of his head. Was there an insect? Thatâs what I thought. It must have been a spider, or some kind of bug which had startled him. I could only describe his expression as close to catatonic. He stood up, but then quickly slumped back down. But not like it was his choice. As if he was being dragged back down by an unseen force. Like one minute I was looking at Casper Wilder, and then I was seeing a stranger. A completely different person take over a rapidly paling face. Something snapped inside my gut when he moved forwards suddenly, his arms lunging out to close the curtains.
But that wasnât the end of what I saw. The boy had unknowingly left a splinter, a tiny gap allowing me to glimpse. I expected him to react to whatever had freaked him out. But instead, he simply flopped back onto his bed. This time, I noticed the silver chord jolt with his movement. He was already asleep, his eyes closed. I watched him, my heart diving into my throat. There was no way he just fell asleep like that. It was too fast.
Mrs Wilder came into his room soon after. But I only got a glimpse of her because she was already striding over to the window. I ducked behind my bed, panic creeping up my spine. I expected the woman to start yelling at me through the window, but instead she simply pulled the curtains properly shut. Mrs Wilder definitely saw me. And even if she didnât, Casperâs messages to me were still piled on his bedsheets. I was left completely in the dark, then. I stood and pressed my face against the window, fully aware that I was addicted to the mystery surrounding my neighbour.
My mind began to wonder to uncertain and scary places.
What exactly was Casperâs mother doing to him behind the curtain? I wanted to believe she was simply tucking him in and saying goodnight, but the strange chord-like thing on the ground, and how heâd reacted to noticing itâfor what seemed like the first time. His change in expression, like a different person had taken over him, and that person was⌠scared.
Catatonic. I refused to believe Mrs Wilder was innocent. I waited for him to draw his curtains againâbut he didnât. Casperâs window stayed completely blocked for days. I stopped hearing his siblings in the yard, and after days of nothing, mom reiterated her warning to me over dinner. âNo communication with the Wilder children,â she told me. âWhich includes notes and letters.â
Busted.
So, Mrs Wilder knew we were talking.
I wondered if she was punishing her son for breaking the rulesâand that was why he had been MIA for the last few days.
âThereâs something wrong with Casper.â I worked up the courage to tell mom âThe boy next door. I think Mrs Wilder is hurting him.â
âHurting him?â
âYeah, likeâŚâ I frowned. âI think she can make him go to sleep when she wants.â I pulled a face. âLike, hypnotismâor maybe even drugs.â
âMmm hmm.â
âDrugs, mom.â I said. âMrs Wilder is drugging her seventeen year old son!â
âThatâs nice, honey.â
âAre you even listening to me?â I leaned across the table, stabbing the page of her book. âMom! Casper Wilder is a total blank slate!â
âIâve told you a thousand times. Sheâs protecting them,â she hummed. âYou have just seen far too many crime dramasâand your generation have been poisoned by the likes of crime entrainment. Finding what you think is your own mystery must be fun, but you are reaching, baby.â
âReaching?â I prodded my own temple. âIâm sorry, were you not listening when I told you he doesnât even know what video games are?â
Mom was acting weird. Usually, she talked about school with me, and at least tried to engage in conversation, but she was too busy reading the book Mrs Becker has recommended her. It was like talking to a brick.
âYouâre being ridiculous, Phoebe,â she turned over a page with a sigh. âIâve spoken to his mother. Sheâs a lovely woman. Weâre having lunch next week. I met her in the grocery store."
âWhat a coincidence,â I shot her a look over my phone. I was looking up child abuse helplines. âYouâre suddenly best friends with the neighborhood witch when Iâm caught talking to her son.â Dropping my phone for emphasis, I stood up. âIf you would just listen to meâ"
âThatâs enough.â Mom cut me off. She finished her coffee, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over a chair. âStay out of trouble, okay? Iâm heading back to work. Iâve left cash if you want to order pizza. You have other interests, alright? Please. Leave Mrs Wilder alone. This obsession you have with her kids is unhealthy. Why don't you stick to fiction, hm?"
Yeah, no.
As soon as she was gone, I sprinted to my room to see if Casperâs curtains were open. To my dismay, though. They werenât.
Frustrated, I yanked mine shut too.
Slumping onto my bed, I continued looking up helplines. I got bored soon after and started googling chords and wires which fit the description of what Iâd seen.
There was a match, though it was on a weird medical website which looked like it had been made in 2005. The interface was outdated, and according to the description, it was some kind of clamping device. There were a lot of words I didnât know, and after further googling, I was getting increasingly more confused. Until my gaze flicked to a section at the bottom of the page. According to whoever wrote it, the chord in question was experimental. There werenât many in circulation, but it was mainly used in medical centres such as specialist surgeries and hospitals. When I scrolled down, there was a diagram which showed a long chord-like thing labelled as âThe bodyâ and a sharp looking needle. Something warm crept up my throat and I sat up, frowning at the screen. Was that it? Was that thing the end?
And what did this thing even connect to?
A sudden THUD made me almost jump out of my skin. I slid off my bed.
THUD.
It was coming from my window. My curtains were still shut, blowing in the slight breeze. Slowly, I made my way over, my spine tingling.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
The first thing I saw was red. Bright, intense scarlet spattering the Wilder boy's window. Then I glimpsed Casper. He was slamming his face into the glass, over and over again, his already bleeding nose exploding with more red. But it wasn't the boy I knew. The kid I had gotten to know over the last few months. No. This kid was a mess of torn up clothes, bruises yellowing his eyes and scratches sliced into his flesh. My first thought was his mom. She must have done this to him. But then my gaze was finding his bloodied nails, and claw marks on his arms and cheeks. There was something white wrapped around his head, a bandage.
I could glimpse red leaking through, smudging clinical white and pooling down his temples in sharp rivulets. Casper's eyes were an enigma in themselves, a mixture of fear and confusion, and almost feral look of anger and frustration. But the twitch in his lip and between his brow, was evident that something was fighting that.
Emotions and feelings he wasn't feeling himself.
It was like looking at two different guys. One was Casper, the artist who lived next door, who ended every message with a smiley. While this twisted other self, a self which was broken out and was feral in his expression, was a whole other person. I started to realise the more I looked at him, at the mess of flesh and blood caught between his nails, and his trembling hands every so often creeping to the back of his skull before jolting and coming back to curl into fists, battering the window--- he had clawed into his own head.
Immediately, I reached for my phone. But he already knew what I was going to do.
âNo!â He mouthed, shaking his headâso I grabbed my notepad. I could barely write.
âWhatâs going on?â I held up my pad. âAre you okay? Youâre fucking bleeding!â
Instead of using a pen and paper, Casper squinted, blinking rapidly. His handwriting was different, a manic scrawl, as he wrote in the explosion of blood on the window.
When he twisted around, his gaze going to the door, the breath caught in my throat. Someone was yelling his name. I could tell by his reaction. His bloodied fingers clawed at his face and hair, at bald patches and rugged stitches lining his scalp and the back of his skull. They kept going, a narrow line of stitches all the way down his neck, and presumably his spine.
My thoughts flashed back to the equipment Iâd been looking up. This kind of thing was designed to bury into the brain and spinal cord. I looked for it, but the thing was nowhere to be seen on him. It was no longer on the floor. Casper struggled to write coherently. I notice he kept swearing, his finger smudging the words he was trying to write. This was more like it, I thought. This was the kind of boy I had expected to be the kid next door. âFuck.â He shook his head, his movements erratic as one hand went to the back of his head and came back slick with glistening red.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
He slammed his fists into the window in frustration, but I was already seeing his message start to blossom and make sense.
âWHO.â
Casper was crying. I could see that he could barely breathe, struggling to inhale, swiping at his eyes with smudged fists.
âAM.â
âI?â
I started to back away, but he continued. When heâd finished, he wrote it again and again, growing more and more fraught.
I jumped when he slammed his head into the glass of the window again. At first a part of me thought he was using his blood for paint.
So he was intentionally hurting himself to draw more.
But his words spelled it out for me in black and white.
Who am I? He wrote. WHO AM I? WHO AM I WHO AM I? WHO AM I?
This time I could barely even read my own handwriting. I held up a scrap of paper.
âDID YOUR MOM HURT YOU?â
I gestured to the bandage on his head, and he stumbled back, wild eyes searching for something to write with.
âTHAT WOMAN.â He scribbled in block capitals.
âTHAT WOMAN IS NOT MY FUCKING MOM.â He wrote, before he dropped to his knees. He was still writing but failing to show me.
I donât know who I am.
He wrote the same thing 12 times, before tearing up the paper and burying his head in his lap.
I gave up writing messages.
âCasper!â I shouted.
Then I threw a rock at his window, and he lifted his head, blinking rapidly.
Gesturing for him to open up his window, he struggled with the latch for a moment before pulling it open.
I stuck my head out of my own window, cold air hitting me in the face. âIâm going to help you.â I managed to choke out. âHold on, okay?â
Casper clawed at his face. "Help me." His voice was a sharp hiss. "Please help me. I don't know who I..." His fingernails ripped into the flesh of his cheeks, but he barely seemed to feel it, to be fazed. They kept going, digging into layer after layer. "I don't know who I am." He jumped up suddenly trashing his desk and throwing his laptop against the wall. He reminded me of a child having a tantrum. In this case though, it was more than acting out. I was sure that Casper Wilder didnât exist. "I don't know who I am. I don't know... fuck... I don't know who I am!â
His eyes found mine, and I could have sworn I saw something there, buried deep, deep inside his pupil.
He blinked, and it was gone.
âYou need to tell me what sheâs done to you.â I said stiffly. âTell me what sheâs done to your head.â
Casper was only growing progressively more frenzied. Animalistic. He came back to the window, slamming his fists into it. Then his head. Again and again. Like he was trying to knock himself out. "Help me. I can't remember... I can't remember who I am. I just know.. I know her.â
His lips suddenly twisted into a startling grin.
âMom.â He whispered, his expression softening. âMy mom.â His gaze flicked to the desk. âShe wonât like that Iâve⌠Iâve made a mess.â
âYour mom did this.â I gritted out. âIâm calling the cops.â
His expression was scaring me. Whatever was in his eye was scaring me. But this boy needed help. He needed to be taken out of that house.
"No." Casper sobered up. "No, my mom... my mommy said... she said no police." His eyes widened suddenly, seemingly noticing the mess of the window for the first time. âOh, no.â Casper stumbled back. âI should⌠I should clean this. Before my mom sees what a mess I made.â
His door opened, and another head poked through.
Another guy. I figured it was one of his brothers. Freddie, or Issac. He too had a bandage wrapped around his head.
His brotherâs eyes found the blood spatters, and then me. Like his mother, he strode over to the window, shutting the curtains.
But I could still hear it.
A mechanical whirring noise, followed by Casperâs sharp breath and the sickly crunch of metal protruding through blood and bone.
That was it.
âMom!â I yelled. Iâd heard her come back earlier. She must have finished work early.
I stumbled downstairs to tell her to call the cops, but a shadow was already looming behind the corner. Before I knew what was happening, a wet rag stinking of pool cleaner was being pressed over my mouth and nose.
I donât remember passing out. When I woke up, I was lying on my momâs couch. It was dark outside, but the curtains were open. My foggy thoughts drunk in slithers of moon poking from between the clouds before registering I wasnât alone. Sitting up, my stomach galloped. There was no sign of mom. But I recognised each of the faces surrounding me. Mrs Becker was sitting with her legs crossed, delicately sipping from a cup. And next to her, wearing a smug smile, was Mrs Wilder. She wasnât looking at me. Instead, her eyes were lovingly glued to something which had been built over momâs coffee table. It was made completely out of paper. The scraps of paper I had been using to talk to her son. Though there werenât just my messages. I glimpsed Casperâs writing too. It was a house. I was staring at a perfect paper rendition of the Wilder house. And next to it stood four little paper dolls.
There were no faces. No expressions. Just four dolls. Two boys, and two girls.
Though in her lap were more. Mrs Wilderâs nimble fingers were working to make more of them. They filled her lap differing in sizes.
âPhoebe, is it?â
Her voice was smooth like chocolate. I could almost mistake it for kindness.
I nodded, my heart in my throat. I was watching her create another doll. She folded a piece of paper in half, cut it in two, and started to fold sections, bringing the doll-form to life. This one, unlike the other, did have attention put into it. She had even added the birth mark on my right temple, following that, colouring in my dark blonde hair, and finishing with my jean jacket. Mrs Wilder didnât have to spell it out for me. When she got to the dollâs head, she shocked me, by tearing it off. Then she ripped off its arms and legs and tearing its torso in half.
Mrs Wilder straightened up. âPhoebe, are you aware of a motherâs instinct?â
I couldnât reply. Instead, I was staring at the paper-doll she had set alight. I watched smouldering orange rip into it, before she put the fire out, dropping the blackened paper doll on the carpet. For just a brief second, I could have sworn the hem of my jacket had also caught alight. Just a single flash of orange. But maybe I was seeing things. âI was pregnant with four beautiful children,â she said softly. âAs soon as I found out, I had already named them.â Her smile was dreamy. Melancholic. âFreddie. My little Freddie. He kicked quite a lot. Oh, and Matilda. She and her twin were quite the pair, I must say. Swiftly draining me of my energy so I had to take medication.â Mrs Wilder chuckled.
âAnd finally, Casper. Named after my favourite movie. I loved him with all of my heart. He was my little fighter.â She quickly lost her smile, her gaze flicking to me. âI hope you understand that if you talk to, or even the breathe the same air as my children again, I will rip you apart too.â
Mrs Wilder never raised her voice. She didnât need to. I was terrified of her.
She held up my doll for emphasis, before throwing it in the paper dollhouse. âOr⌠perhaps you could become another daughter of mine, hmm?â I couldnât move, my body paralysed when she leaned over me, cruel eyes drinking me in. âMaybe not.â She hummed. âI only take the dead or dying.â Straightening up, she sighed. âItâs not a hard task, Phoebe. Keep away from my children and I will keep away from you.â
The two of them left after that, leaving me unable to move. To breathe. They took the dollhouse. All of the paper. Even my own doll.
Casper has been unreachable since. Mom has hardly been at homeâand Iâm starting to lose my mind.
I donât know what to do. I donât know who or what Mrs Wilder is, but Iâm afraid sheâs going to keep adding to her collection.
Whoever those kids are, theyâre not hers. I think sheâs taken them. Sheâs using them as canvases. Dolls. For what sheâs lost.
Am I next?
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I first noticed him when we arrived here. Mom was moving in all of our boxes and furniture, and I was sitting on one of momâs boxes labelled âfragileâ downing ice-cold lemonade.
It wasnât exactly the weather for cold drinks, but I was pooped after spending my morning and half of my afternoon going back and forth with all of our stuff. It was just a glimpse.
One of the movers asked me to help him with a box of kitchen equipment. I was struggling to get a proper grip of it, twisting around to shout that I needed helpâwhen I saw him.
Not much of a person, more of a shadow poking from behind the fence. What I could make out was a tallish figure and mousey hair.
I lifted my hand in a greeting, but the guy walked away. I didnât think much of it.
Maybe he was shy.
Though I was curious about my neighbors. I was expecting them to join the parade of families on our doorstep harbouring every food you can imagine, but they stayed away. I did know a family existed next door, however. There was a large wooden fence separating us. So, if I really wanted to talk to them Iâd either have to grow several feet taller or invest in stilts. Iâm not sure why I was so obsessed with meeting them.
I knew they had kids my age. I could hear them.
Whether they were arguing over video games, or laughing at something trivial, I could always hear them when I was sitting on our wooden porch or helping mom clean our yard.
According to mom, who heard it from the nice lady across the street, our neighbors were called the Wilders.
There was a single mom, and her four teenage kids.
Huh, I thought. So the mystery shadow guy must have been a Wilder kid.
I was told to not get too excited, though. Apparently, Mrs Wilder was very protective over her children and home-schooled them.
So, there was no chance of me making friends or even getting to know them. On our second day in our new home, mom told me over breakfast that Mrs Wilder had sent out a polite notice to the neighbourhood that her children were not to be disturbed or talked to. Which was crazy. I thought that was weird. But mom understood itâand to my annoyance, accepted the womanâs notice. I was warned not to talk to the Wilder children.
And if I did, that was an automatic week grounding. Which meant no diner, no seeing friends after school, and my phone privileges taken away. According to her, she figured they were just a private family and wanted to accept that. She theorised the kids had been bullied at public school and had to be home-schooled. But I was sceptical. âAll of them?â Iâd asked her through a mouthful of cereal.
âPhoebe.â Mom sent me a warning look, sipping her coffee. âWhat weâre going to do is respect Mrs Wilderâs wishes.â
âItâs child abuse.â I muttered into my frosted flakes. Only for mom to reach across the table and poke me with the prongs of her fork.
âOw!â
âDonât play with your food.â
âIâm not playing with my food.â I held up a spoonful of soggy cereal. âYou just never get the chocolate brand. These taste like sandpaper.â
âWe are going to be respectable neighbors,â mom said, ignoring me. âSo, you are not going to speak to those kids. Do you understand?â
I knew mom only wanted to abide by the weird rules because she was obsessed with joining the momâs club, or whatever they were called, but it didnât make sense to me that his woman wasnât letting her own kids have a social life.
At a younger age, maybe eleven or twelve, I could understand. But seventeen? That was almost college age. What, was she expecting to coddle them forever?
Did she really think these kids were going to stay with her? Seventeen was the age of finding first loves and making mistakes. Not staying at home with mommy dearest. âOkay, but would you do this to me?â I asked her. âWould you really lock me up and stop me from going outside and living my life?â
Mom had been spreading butter on bread. I didnât realise her mood had drastically changed until she was almost slicing her finger with the knife. âYou donât know this yet because you are far too young,â she lifted her head, her lips curving into a smile. âBut there is something called a motherâs instinct. When our children are born, we are overcome with an almost⌠feral need to protect them from danger. If you look it up, it is present is every creature. Every mother. Our children are worth more than ourselves. We give our own lives to keep them alive. You can roll your eyes and say itâs stupid, but Iâm sure as soon as you have your own child, you will feel the exact same with them.â
She nodded at me. âI had that with you. I⌠I still have it with you, Phoebe. No matter how old you are. When you were a baby, I wanted to hold you in my arms every second of every day. I hated it when people wanted to hold you, and you were such a clingy baby. Always cradled to my chest. As you grew up, I started to understand that you were seeing the world for the first time and you needed your own time and space. I let you take your first steps on your own. I cried when you said your first wordâand when I grabbed your hand and raced down the kindergarten steps for the first time. Letting you go was painful. And if I had a choice in the matter? Yes, I would keep you in here. I would stop you from going outside and seeing this world.â She dropped the knife with a startling, metallic clang, before picking it back up.
âBecause this planet is a scary place, Phoebe. And as motherâs, it is our job to keep our kids safe. Even if that means going to the slightest of extremes.â
âSlightest of extremes?â I scoffed, despite knowing I was being pedantic. âThey have to fly the nest! Thatâs called growing up!â
Ignoring her glare, I continued.
âYes, I believe in motherâs instinct. But at what point do you have to look at yourself and realise youâre being ridiculous? Seventeen year olds arenât infants. They wonât just blindly walk into traffic. They have self-awareness of what is wrong and right.â
I pointed at myself. âYou let me drive, right? I got my license. Where was your âmother instinctâ when I got myself a big-girl vehicle I could easily have an accident in?â
Mom curled her lip. âDonât push it.â
Leaning across the table, I fixed her with a smile. âSee? You trust me, mom. You let me grow up. Thatâs the difference between you and Mrs Wilder. Kids have to grow up. No matter what the circumstances are. Itâs just part of being human. We all grow up and leave our parents.â
I sent her a look, stirring the soggy soup of my cereal. âWell. Unless youâre Mrs Wilder.â
Mom finished her coffee and stood up. âYou donât even know these children. They could be in any stage of development which makes them very different to you. All kids mentally age at different points.â
She took her plate to the faucet and dumped it in the bowl. Mom washed the dishes when she was angry or stressed, and she was really going to town on our brand new pattern plates. I saw that as a mark of finality. âIâm done talking about this, okay? Youâre not eighteen yet which means you abide by my rules, and really, Phoebe, Iâm not exactly holding you prisoner. Iâm just asking you to be polite and follow a simple rule which is not hard. We are a new family, and we need to make a good impression. Which means no talking to Mrs Wilderâs children.â She cleared her throat.
âRespect our neighbourâs wishes or lose your phone.â
Ducking my head, I continued to stir my cereal into a mushy soup which had quickly become unappetising. It looked like barf. I pushed it away. âYou only want me to follow the rules so you can get into Mrs Beckerâs book club and go on Pilate dates with middle aged Karenâs.â
Mom dropped a plate in the sink, and the sound of the splash made me flinch slightly.
âIs that understood?â
âYes.â I said, rolling my eyes. âObviously, I will abide by this streetâs draconian rules so I can continue scrolling through Tik-Tok.â
It was sarcasm, but I wasnât sure my mother could detect it. She was so blinded by becoming one with our neighbors.
Why was she so obsessed with meeting all the other momâs anyway?
Was she planning on setting me up on a playdate with 3 year old Evie? I wouldnât put it past her doing that for the brownie points.
âGood. End of conversation.â Mom said, hurrying to get her jacket and bag. âIâm late for work, and you have an induction to get to.â
I wanted to argue further because this sounded unfair. The kids were teenagers, right? How were they not arguing against this? It seemed insane that they were going along with what their mother said. But I was aware of significant punishment if I broke this rule. So, I begrudgingly agreed. After my induction, I asked around new friends and classmates if anybody knew of the Wilder kids, and they did.
But they didnât want to elaborate on what they knew. I heard a lot of rumours with dead ends. Most of them involved a father who had walked out on them, and their mother going into ultra-protective mode in response. It sounded like these kids were bearing the brunt of a messy divorce. They were complete enigmaâs.
I didnât know anything about them except from their insanely overprotective motherâs wicked grip on them. I gave up being curious. Mom was serious about me not speaking not them. She gave me a lecture on respecting the womanâs privacy, and blah, blah, blah. I tuned out after five minutes, my attention flicking to an episode of Breaking Bad playing on the lounge TV.
The next few weeks were boring. Mom was invited to join Mrs Beckâs book club, so on Mondayâs at 5PM, I made myself scarce. I did exactly what mom said. I ignored the kids next door. My bedroom happened to be facing the room of one of the kids, but their dark blue curtains were always shut. Sometimes it was hard. When I was sitting in the yard, reading a book, I could hear them on the other side of the fence.
The boys were the most vocal, laughing and teasing each other. There was a point when I risked it. I jumped to my feet and got halfway across the expanse of grass, standing on the tips of my toes and trying to catch a peek. But mom was calling me inside. I swore she had eyes in the back of my head. Mom always knew when I was outside. When I was near the fence.
It wasnât until a month had gone by when I finally got a glimpse of a Wilder kid. I had just gotten back from school. Iâd dumped my backpack on my bed and grabbed my phone, slumping onto my bed to text my friends and mindlessly scroll through social media. I noticed movement at the corner of my eye, and when Iâd lifted my head, blinking rapidlyâthose same blue curtains which had shut me out for what felt so longâthey were open. Not just that.
I could see a bedroom smothered in personality. I glimpsed a hardwood desk strewn with paper and an expensive laptop, a blue bedspread, a beaten up guitar leaning against light green walls covered in old-school movie posters.
There were screwed up pieces of paper everywhere. I had to guess he was some kind of artist. The room was illuminated in the evening dim, a soft warm light bringing the room to life. A knock startled me, and my gaze flicked to the window.
There he was. The Wilder boy next door.
He was my age, maybe even older. This guy looked almost college aged. Which made it increasingly weirder that his mother would insist on babying him at the age of seventeen.
He was cute. The dorky kind of cute. He wore bulky glasses but was the type to instantly suit pretty much anything. If I could compare him to anyone, it would be the mental image in my head that my younger self had imagined Percy Jackson when I reads the books.
The guy looked comfortable in a sweater and jeans, mousey brown hair hanging in warm eyes. There was an inquisitive smile on his lips. I jumped up to open my window to speak to him, but he shook his headâand I quickly remembered his motherâs stupid rule which forbid us from talking. So, I got creative.
Give me a moment! I mouthed.
I expected him to ignore me and go back to what he was doing, but the guy straightened up and nodded, arching a brow.
He was intrigued.
I grabbed an old notebook and a pen and sat on my bed, scribbling a message. I wrote: âHello! So, youâre the kid under house arrest lmao.â
When I held it up, his smile pricked. He laughed. But I couldnât hear it. I could tell he had a dorky kind of laugh, a nasally one. The guy held up a hand for me to wait and rummaged on his desk. He quickly wrote out a message and held it up with a grin. He looked almost proud of his own message, and I couldnât resist my own smile. I expected him to curse his mother, maybe apologise for the lack of communication.
But instead, he simply wrote: âHello! Whatâs your name?â Followed by a slightly smudged smiley.
After a moment of consideration, momâs words echoing in my mind, I thought fuck it. âPhoebe.â I said. âYours?â
âItâs nice to meet you, Phoebe.â He responded. Which spanned multiple conversations which took up several of my notepads.
We talked about everything from school to his life at home. He had three siblings. Matilda, Freddie, and Issac. He liked to play the guitar and draw, but also apparently sucked at both. When I asked what his favourite TV show was, he looked confused for a moment before answering âAll of themâ. Following that odd answer, I asked if he liked Marvel, and again, he had that look again. A look of confusion.
But I knew he was trying to make a good impression. âWhat is Marvel?â He wrote back, this time his handwriting in a bubbly font. I could almost call his writing calligraphy. It practically danced off of the page. The Wilder boyâs strange answers made wonder if this kid had been home-schooled his whole life. He seemed way too polite. Kids were polite, sure.
There was a certain amount of respect you had to pay to your elders and parents.
But looking at this kid, I wasnât even sure he knew what a meme wasâor even the concept of a joke. He had no idea about one of the biggest movie franchise in the world, and his favourite celebrity was apparently âAll of themâ. In fact, he had answered âAll of themâ to several of my questions. His messages reminded me of my grandmaâs. Still though, he was good company. Though I made it my mission to convert him into a normal teenager.
I had to guess due to constantly being home and around the same people, this kid had zero social skills. I asked him what his favourite movie was, out of the posters on the wall. He had Kill Bill, Reservoir Dogs, and Fight Club.
Again, he looked confused. His head cocked to the side, and I had to physically point to them behind him.
âAll of them.â He wrote back with a smiley face.
Damn, this kid needed to see a movie which wasnât some educational shit. I bet his mother had turned him into perfect member of society.
âWhat have you seen?â I couldnât help asking him. âLike, movies, TV shows. Do you play video games?â
He shook his head before scribbling back. âWhat is that?â
Holy shit, this kid was completely cut off from the outside world.
I was already mentally thinking up plans to get him out of the house and to a party, or something like that. From the look of this kids faceâa slightly blank if not completely innocent smileâhe needed time away from home. Away from his overprotective motherâs wicked grasp.
After a while, I realised he never told me his name. I didnât notice time go by. Almost three hours, and Iâd spent most of it lecturing him on movies and TV shows he really should have known. I guessed Mrs Wilder didnât let him watch the TV. My gaze flicked to his laptop. And I wouldnât have been surprised if she had blocked out all social media. My notepad was full of scribbles and doodles, an attempt at copying his handwriting style. The sky was blooming into twilight outside, thick orange and cotton candy pink streaking the horizon. I have always loved a pre-twilight sky.
âWhatâs your name?â I wrote in marker pen, before holding up my notepad. I was running out of paper. I could hear mom downstairs preparing dinner, and I could tell from his diminishing smile Mrs Wilder was probably shouting for him to go downstairs.
He didnât reply for a while. I watched him put the pad down, before heading over to his desk and cleaning up the paperâevery trace we had been talking and dumping each response heâd given in the trash. Before he slumped onto his bed, wrote something down in several strokes, before holding it up for me to see. âCasper.â Heâd written. âMy name is Casper Wilder.â
For a moment, his expression changed completely. He glanced at the door, before frowning at the pad of paper in his lap.
It looked like he wanted to write more, before twisting around, his eyes widening. Someone was coming. I could tell by the look on his face.
The knot between his brows.
Casper gathered everything heâd been using to write to me, pens and pencils, scraps of paper and the backs of movie posters, and shoving them under his bed. Then he grabbed the curtains and pulled them closed, blocking me out once again. I thought heâd come back, but after standing like an idiot with an odd feeling in my gut, frowning at his curtains, I realised he was finished talking to me for the night. What I expected was that to be it. I didnât think heâd come back. The next morning, however, he was back at his window, smiling at me through a mouthful of toothpaste. He was still in his pyjamas, unbrushed curls falling in sleepy eyes.
He looked strange without his glasses. Like his face was too bare. The more I took him in, though. Something was⌠different. Though I couldnât make it out. It hit me then.
Casper wasnât moving, staying in the same position. The night before, he had gone to and from his bed, hurrying around to grab equipment to write with. But now he was stood, looking more shadow than human. I was quick to dive for my notepad, but Casper was already holding up his own greeting with a grin. âGood morning, Phoebe! How are you feeling today?â
âTired.â I wrote back, my writing barely comprehensible. âDo you have school?â
âYES.â He responded with an excited smile. âIâm so excited to learn! Do you have a favourite class?â
I laughed at that. And after looking confused, he copied my laugh. Which made me laugh harder.
âNone of them!â I scribbled back. âSchool is boring!â
Casper shrugged. âI like it. I have a great tutor.â
âReally?â This time, I drew an attempt at the rolling eyes emoji. âYou shouldnât be excited for school. Weirdo.â
He curled his lip. âYouâre the weirdo.â He wrote back. Casper paused, chewing on the lid of the pen, before writing, âWhatâs a weirdo?â
âYouâre kidding!â This time, with too much vigour, I pointed to him with a laugh. âYou! Youâre the weirdo!â
We talked as I got ready for school, gathering all my books and homework. I was stuffing my gym clothes in my bag, when I noticed something was on the ground behind Casper. Looking closer, it looked like a chord. Like a long cable sort of thing. I thought it was for a games console, but then I remembered he had no idea what a video game was. I didnât question what it was for a while. We talked every night, about everything and nothing.
I told Casper about school and friends, filling up every piece of paper we had in the house, and he told me about his siblings. They were all the same age, and all enjoyed school. His brother was a piano prodigy, while his sisterâs strongest subjects were math. Casper told me he felt like the odd one out being the artist of the family, and I quickly told him that creativity was the best part of a person.
He showed me his drawings. And to my confusion, and slight disgust, they were all of his mother. They were goodâsure. His skills were Ivy League worthy. Perfect shading. Everything about the drawings were perfect.
But the fact that his muse was his motherâit put a weird taste in my mouth. He showed me each drawing, his smile widening with excitement. While I nodded and pretended to be impressed. Well, I was.
Though it became startlingly obvious that Casper didnât have a choice who he drew. He didnât draw fruit or landscapes, or even the sky. We live in a picturesque town, the perfect canvas for an artist. However, Mrs Wilder was at the centre of every single fucking drawing and painting, ink blot. Even with different styles and angles, she was always there. And Casper Wilder saw no wrong in it. He saw absolutely no fucking wrong in this woman taking control of every aspect of his life. His social life, his friends, education and hobbies.
I half expected him to grab his guitar and start singing about her through the glass. I couldnât take it anymore. It was driving me crazy. We continued to talk through writing to each other, but soon enough the only subject was his mother. Casper asked me if I could rate a drawing he was working on. It was her. Of course it was. I ignored him, getting to my feet and holding up the sign I had written weeks before. But I was too scared to show him.
I didnât want to ruin our friendship, but I had to know. I had to know several things which had been keeping me up all night
âWhy are you okay with your mother controlling your life?â I asked in bold letters.
And below that: âAlso⌠Iâve been wondering this for a while. But what is that thing behind you?â
The thing behind him was at the centre of my thoughts. Iâd worked out it wasnât a chord for a TV or a games console. Not even a laptop, or for his guitar. Not to mention it was always there. Morning and evening, even at night when I spied him getting ready for bed. This thing was always on the floor, snaked across his bed. Sometimes it was even wrapped up on his desk. I couldnât understand the length of it. I asked friends at school, and even the internet. But my descriptions didnât do it justice. A long, silver chord like thing which didnât have an end.
Casper blinked at my message. Before he ducked his head and started writing before holding up his response.
âI love my mom.â He said, doodling a little heart. âShe doesnât control my life. I like that sheâs in it.â
Below that, a follow up message which twisted my gut. âWhat do you mean? I donât see anything, Phoebe.â
Tapping my pad with my pen, I struggled to think of a response. There was no way he couldnât see this thing. It was pretty hard to miss. Instead of writing, I pointed behind him.
âThat!â I mouthed, using my lips for the first time. It felt good to actually talk to him. Even if a window of glass separated us.
âWhat?â His handwriting was slipping slightly. And I noticed his hands were visibly shaking. âWhat can you see, Phoebe?â
This time, he stood up. I noticed something change in him, the notepad slipping off his knee. Casper turned around, scanning the room.
Before his eyes finally found the cord-thing. His smile seemed to dampen, eyes going wide, fists clenching.
âCasper?â I hurriedly wrote when he didnât move for a while. His gaze was glued to the chord. I watched his eye follow it around the room, before his hand slowly raised, trembling fingers moving to his neck, and then the back of his head. Was there an insect? Thatâs what I thought. It must have been a spider, or some kind of bug which had startled him. I could only describe his expression as close to catatonic. He stood up, but then quickly slumped back down. But not like it was his choice. As if he was being dragged back down by an unseen force. Like one minute I was looking at Casper Wilder, and then I was seeing a stranger. A completely different person take over a rapidly paling face. Something snapped inside my gut when he moved forwards suddenly, his arms lunging out to close the curtains.
But that wasnât the end of what I saw. The boy had unknowingly left a splinter, a tiny gap allowing me to glimpse. I expected him to react to whatever had freaked him out. But instead, he simply flopped back onto his bed. This time, I noticed the silver chord jolt with his movement. He was already asleep, his eyes closed. I watched him, my heart diving into my throat. There was no way he just fell asleep like that. It was too fast.
Mrs Wilder came into his room soon after. But I only got a glimpse of her because she was already striding over to the window. I ducked behind my bed, panic creeping up my spine. I expected the woman to start yelling at me through the window, but instead she simply pulled the curtains properly shut. Mrs Wilder definitely saw me. And even if she didnât, Casperâs messages to me were still piled on his bedsheets. I was left completely in the dark, then. I stood and pressed my face against the window, fully aware that I was addicted to the mystery surrounding my neighbour.
My mind began to wonder to uncertain and scary places.
What exactly was Casperâs mother doing to him behind the curtain? I wanted to believe she was simply tucking him in and saying goodnight, but the strange chord-like thing on the ground, and how heâd reacted to noticing itâfor what seemed like the first time. His change in expression, like a different person had taken over him, and that person was⌠scared.
Catatonic. I refused to believe Mrs Wilder was innocent. I waited for him to draw his curtains againâbut he didnât. Casperâs window stayed completely blocked for days. I stopped hearing his siblings in the yard, and after days of nothing, mom reiterated her warning to me over dinner. âNo communication with the Wilder children,â she told me. âWhich includes notes and letters.â
Busted.
So, Mrs Wilder knew we were talking.
I wondered if she was punishing her son for breaking the rulesâand that was why he had been MIA for the last few days.
âThereâs something wrong with Casper.â I worked up the courage to tell mom âThe boy next door. I think Mrs Wilder is hurting him.â
âHurting him?â
âYeah, likeâŚâ I frowned. âI think she can make him go to sleep when she wants.â I pulled a face. âLike, hypnotismâor maybe even drugs.â
âMmm hmm.â
âDrugs, mom.â I said. âMrs Wilder is drugging her seventeen year old son!â
âThatâs nice, honey.â
âAre you even listening to me?â I leaned across the table, stabbing the page of her book. âMom! Casper Wilder is a total blank slate!â
âIâve told you a thousand times. Sheâs protecting them,â she hummed. âYou have just seen far too many crime dramasâand your generation have been poisoned by the likes of crime entrainment. Finding what you think is your own mystery must be fun, but you are reaching, baby.â
âReaching?â I prodded my own temple. âIâm sorry, were you not listening when I told you he doesnât even know what video games are?â
Mom was acting weird. Usually, she talked about school with me, and at least tried to engage in conversation, but she was too busy reading the book Mrs Becker has recommended her. It was like talking to a brick.
âYouâre being ridiculous, Phoebe,â she turned over a page with a sigh. âIâve spoken to his mother. Sheâs a lovely woman. Weâre having lunch next week. I met her in the grocery store."
âWhat a coincidence,â I shot her a look over my phone. I was looking up child abuse helplines. âYouâre suddenly best friends with the neighborhood witch when Iâm caught talking to her son.â Dropping my phone for emphasis, I stood up. âIf you would just listen to meâ"
âThatâs enough.â Mom cut me off. She finished her coffee, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over a chair. âStay out of trouble, okay? Iâm heading back to work. Iâve left cash if you want to order pizza. You have other interests, alright? Please. Leave Mrs Wilder alone. This obsession you have with her kids is unhealthy. Why don't you stick to fiction, hm?"
Yeah, no.
As soon as she was gone, I sprinted to my room to see if Casperâs curtains were open. To my dismay, though. They werenât.
Frustrated, I yanked mine shut too.
Slumping onto my bed, I continued looking up helplines. I got bored soon after and started googling chords and wires which fit the description of what Iâd seen.
There was a match, though it was on a weird medical website which looked like it had been made in 2005. The interface was outdated, and according to the description, it was some kind of clamping device. There were a lot of words I didnât know, and after further googling, I was getting increasingly more confused. Until my gaze flicked to a section at the bottom of the page. According to whoever wrote it, the chord in question was experimental. There werenât many in circulation, but it was mainly used in medical centres such as specialist surgeries and hospitals. When I scrolled down, there was a diagram which showed a long chord-like thing labelled as âThe bodyâ and a sharp looking needle. Something warm crept up my throat and I sat up, frowning at the screen. Was that it? Was that thing the end?
And what did this thing even connect to?
A sudden THUD made me almost jump out of my skin. I slid off my bed.
THUD.
It was coming from my window. My curtains were still shut, blowing in the slight breeze. Slowly, I made my way over, my spine tingling.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
The first thing I saw was red. Bright, intense scarlet spattering the Wilder boy's window. Then I glimpsed Casper. He was slamming his face into the glass, over and over again, his already bleeding nose exploding with more red. But it wasn't the boy I knew. The kid I had gotten to know over the last few months. No. This kid was a mess of torn up clothes, bruises yellowing his eyes and scratches sliced into his flesh. My first thought was his mom. She must have done this to him. But then my gaze was finding his bloodied nails, and claw marks on his arms and cheeks. There was something white wrapped around his head, a bandage.
I could glimpse red leaking through, smudging clinical white and pooling down his temples in sharp rivulets. Casper's eyes were an enigma in themselves, a mixture of fear and confusion, and almost feral look of anger and frustration. But the twitch in his lip and between his brow, was evident that something was fighting that.
Emotions and feelings he wasn't feeling himself.
It was like looking at two different guys. One was Casper, the artist who lived next door, who ended every message with a smiley. While this twisted other self, a self which was broken out and was feral in his expression, was a whole other person. I started to realise the more I looked at him, at the mess of flesh and blood caught between his nails, and his trembling hands every so often creeping to the back of his skull before jolting and coming back to curl into fists, battering the window--- he had clawed into his own head.
Immediately, I reached for my phone. But he already knew what I was going to do.
âNo!â He mouthed, shaking his headâso I grabbed my notepad. I could barely write.
âWhatâs going on?â I held up my pad. âAre you okay? Youâre fucking bleeding!â
Instead of using a pen and paper, Casper squinted, blinking rapidly. His handwriting was different, a manic scrawl, as he wrote in the explosion of blood on the window.
When he twisted around, his gaze going to the door, the breath caught in my throat. Someone was yelling his name. I could tell by his reaction. His bloodied fingers clawed at his face and hair, at bald patches and rugged stitches lining his scalp and the back of his skull. They kept going, a narrow line of stitches all the way down his neck, and presumably his spine.
My thoughts flashed back to the equipment Iâd been looking up. This kind of thing was designed to bury into the brain and spinal cord. I looked for it, but the thing was nowhere to be seen on him. It was no longer on the floor. Casper struggled to write coherently. I notice he kept swearing, his finger smudging the words he was trying to write. This was more like it, I thought. This was the kind of boy I had expected to be the kid next door. âFuck.â He shook his head, his movements erratic as one hand went to the back of his head and came back slick with glistening red.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
He slammed his fists into the window in frustration, but I was already seeing his message start to blossom and make sense.
âWHO.â
Casper was crying. I could see that he could barely breathe, struggling to inhale, swiping at his eyes with smudged fists.
âAM.â
âI?â
I started to back away, but he continued. When heâd finished, he wrote it again and again, growing more and more fraught.
I jumped when he slammed his head into the glass of the window again. At first a part of me thought he was using his blood for paint.
So he was intentionally hurting himself to draw more.
But his words spelled it out for me in black and white.
Who am I? He wrote. WHO AM I? WHO AM I WHO AM I? WHO AM I?
This time I could barely even read my own handwriting. I held up a scrap of paper.
âDID YOUR MOM HURT YOU?â
I gestured to the bandage on his head, and he stumbled back, wild eyes searching for something to write with.
âTHAT WOMAN.â He scribbled in block capitals.
âTHAT WOMAN IS NOT MY FUCKING MOM.â He wrote, before he dropped to his knees. He was still writing but failing to show me.
I donât know who I am.
He wrote the same thing 12 times, before tearing up the paper and burying his head in his lap.
I gave up writing messages.
âCasper!â I shouted.
Then I threw a rock at his window, and he lifted his head, blinking rapidly.
Gesturing for him to open up his window, he struggled with the latch for a moment before pulling it open.
I stuck my head out of my own window, cold air hitting me in the face. âIâm going to help you.â I managed to choke out. âHold on, okay?â
Casper clawed at his face. "Help me." His voice was a sharp hiss. "Please help me. I don't know who I..." His fingernails ripped into the flesh of his cheeks, but he barely seemed to feel it, to be fazed. They kept going, digging into layer after layer. "I don't know who I am." He jumped up suddenly trashing his desk and throwing his laptop against the wall. He reminded me of a child having a tantrum. In this case though, it was more than acting out. I was sure that Casper Wilder didnât exist. "I don't know who I am. I don't know... fuck... I don't know who I am!â
His eyes found mine, and I could have sworn I saw something there, buried deep, deep inside his pupil.
He blinked, and it was gone.
âYou need to tell me what sheâs done to you.â I said stiffly. âTell me what sheâs done to your head.â
Casper was only growing progressively more frenzied. Animalistic. He came back to the window, slamming his fists into it. Then his head. Again and again. Like he was trying to knock himself out. "Help me. I can't remember... I can't remember who I am. I just know.. I know her.â
His lips suddenly twisted into a startling grin.
âMom.â He whispered, his expression softening. âMy mom.â His gaze flicked to the desk. âShe wonât like that Iâve⌠Iâve made a mess.â
âYour mom did this.â I gritted out. âIâm calling the cops.â
His expression was scaring me. Whatever was in his eye was scaring me. But this boy needed help. He needed to be taken out of that house.
"No." Casper sobered up. "No, my mom... my mommy said... she said no police." His eyes widened suddenly, seemingly noticing the mess of the window for the first time. âOh, no.â Casper stumbled back. âI should⌠I should clean this. Before my mom sees what a mess I made.â
His door opened, and another head poked through.
Another guy. I figured it was one of his brothers. Freddie, or Issac. He too had a bandage wrapped around his head.
His brotherâs eyes found the blood spatters, and then me. Like his mother, he strode over to the window, shutting the curtains.
But I could still hear it.
A mechanical whirring noise, followed by Casperâs sharp breath and the sickly crunch of metal protruding through blood and bone.
That was it.
âMom!â I yelled. Iâd heard her come back earlier. She must have finished work early.
I stumbled downstairs to tell her to call the cops, but a shadow was already looming behind the corner. Before I knew what was happening, a wet rag stinking of pool cleaner was being pressed over my mouth and nose.
I donât remember passing out. When I woke up, I was lying on my momâs couch. It was dark outside, but the curtains were open. My foggy thoughts drunk in slithers of moon poking from between the clouds before registering I wasnât alone. Sitting up, my stomach galloped. There was no sign of mom. But I recognised each of the faces surrounding me. Mrs Becker was sitting with her legs crossed, delicately sipping from a cup. And next to her, wearing a smug smile, was Mrs Wilder. She wasnât looking at me. Instead, her eyes were lovingly glued to something which had been built over momâs coffee table. It was made completely out of paper. The scraps of paper I had been using to talk to her son. Though there werenât just my messages. I glimpsed Casperâs writing too. It was a house. I was staring at a perfect paper rendition of the Wilder house. And next to it stood four little paper dolls.
There were no faces. No expressions. Just four dolls. Two boys, and two girls.
Though in her lap were more. Mrs Wilderâs nimble fingers were working to make more of them. They filled her lap differing in sizes.
âPhoebe, is it?â
Her voice was smooth like chocolate. I could almost mistake it for kindness.
I nodded, my heart in my throat. I was watching her create another doll. She folded a piece of paper in half, cut it in two, and started to fold sections, bringing the doll-form to life. This one, unlike the other, did have attention put into it. She had even added the birth mark on my right temple, following that, colouring in my dark blonde hair, and finishing with my jean jacket. Mrs Wilder didnât have to spell it out for me. When she got to the dollâs head, she shocked me, by tearing it off. Then she ripped off its arms and legs and tearing its torso in half.
Mrs Wilder straightened up. âPhoebe, are you aware of a motherâs instinct?â
I couldnât reply. Instead, I was staring at the paper-doll she had set alight. I watched smouldering orange rip into it, before she put the fire out, dropping the blackened paper doll on the carpet. For just a brief second, I could have sworn the hem of my jacket had also caught alight. Just a single flash of orange. But maybe I was seeing things. âI was pregnant with four beautiful children,â she said softly. âAs soon as I found out, I had already named them.â Her smile was dreamy. Melancholic. âFreddie. My little Freddie. He kicked quite a lot. Oh, and Matilda. She and her twin were quite the pair, I must say. Swiftly draining me of my energy so I had to take medication.â Mrs Wilder chuckled.
âAnd finally, Casper. Named after my favourite movie. I loved him with all of my heart. He was my little fighter.â She quickly lost her smile, her gaze flicking to me. âI hope you understand that if you talk to, or even the breathe the same air as my children again, I will rip you apart too.â
Mrs Wilder never raised her voice. She didnât need to. I was terrified of her.
She held up my doll for emphasis, before throwing it in the paper dollhouse. âOr⌠perhaps you could become another daughter of mine, hmm?â I couldnât move, my body paralysed when she leaned over me, cruel eyes drinking me in. âMaybe not.â She hummed. âI only take the dead or dying.â Straightening up, she sighed. âItâs not a hard task, Phoebe. Keep away from my children and I will keep away from you.â
The two of them left after that, leaving me unable to move. To breathe. They took the dollhouse. All of the paper. Even my own doll.
Casper has been unreachable since. Mom has hardly been at homeâand Iâm starting to lose my mind.
I donât know what to do. I donât know who or what Mrs Wilder is, but Iâm afraid sheâs going to keep adding to her collection.
Whoever those kids are, theyâre not hers. I think sheâs taken them. Sheâs using them as canvases. Dolls. For what sheâs lost.
Am I next?
2023.03.27 01:57 acf7706h Reality check for Internationals in the US: How much tougher is the recruiting (esp. IB/Consulting)?
I've been researching a lot about pivoting to IB with an MBA. However, being an international student makes the recruiting process considerably harder. Say you're from a T15/25 banking school (NYU, Darden, Cornell, UNC), is it really near impossible to secure an internship/FT offer after graduation (assuming you network, go to on-campus recruitment events & interview preps, have a good command of English and being culturally fit)? I've heard major banks and consulting firms do sponsor the h1-b visa - any internationals here to shed some light? All inputs are appreciated. Thanks!
submitted by acf7706h to MBA [link] [comments]
2023.03.27 01:51 AndrogynousVampire Good riddance mom. (Tw numbers but I need to get this off my chest)
She gave me an eating disorder. She used to have me sit on her bed and watch her bodychecking herself, while saying that sheâs so fucking ugly because having 5 kids ruined her body. She made me be part of every diet. She made me get sick. She made me hate my body by calling it beautiful. She made me scared to eat, drink, or go outside. She told me Iâd be sex trafficed because Iâm so beautiful. She made me hate my beautiful long thick hair. She made me cut it off any chance I got so no one could grab my hair and assault me. She made me get lung infections from smoking with her instead of eating breakfast or lunch. Eventually we were just smoking for meals. (In total, she made a 5â5â female go from 180lbs-111lbs) My clothes never ever fit me correctly. My dad actually bought me jeans in my size. I moved out. My dad let me take the first shower Iâve had in weeks, as well as an actual meal to eat. There were clean dishes. Thereâs air conditioning. Thereâs wifi. Thereâs no mold. Thereâs no termites. Thereâs no mice. Thereâs no more child abuse.
Now that Iâm gone, sheâs probably never going to eat again. She might actually kill herself too
But, now I get to gain weight. My mom helped me âwinâ my disorder.
So now Iâm the skinny bitch who can eat whatever they want and not make a dent in their weight, and sheâs just screwed unless she gets a surgery.
So, good riddance mom. Iâm gonna go get fat in peace now.
submitted by AndrogynousVampire to EDAnonymous [link] [comments]
Now that Iâm gone, sheâs probably never going to eat again. She might actually kill herself too
But, now I get to gain weight. My mom helped me âwinâ my disorder.
So now Iâm the skinny bitch who can eat whatever they want and not make a dent in their weight, and sheâs just screwed unless she gets a surgery.
So, good riddance mom. Iâm gonna go get fat in peace now.
2023.03.27 01:43 Quiet_Common_4561 Iâve always been a skinny jeans type of guy but Iâm trying out baggy and slim fit for a change. What do you think?
 | submitted by Quiet_Common_4561 to fashionph [link] [comments] |
2023.03.27 01:39 desnyr Traded in my Retro-x jacket to buy the new Classic Retro-X in a size smaller and Iâm astonished how it fits larger and longerâŚ
 | submitted by desnyr to PatagoniaClothing [link] [comments] |
2023.03.27 01:20 Ainslie_Bullion You NEED to understand this â Itâs ALL about Liquidity
 | Friday night saw more banking dramas amid Euro banks with none other than Deutsche Bank yet again hogging the headlines, down 14% at one point before finishing down 8% in one session. DB also saw its CDSâs surge as investors scrambled into protection (that someone has the other side to donât forget!). A few weeks ago, before any talk of banking crises, we wrote the possibly prophetic article titled âSPLASHâ LANDING â WHY LIQUIDITY IS ALL THAT MATTERS & GREAT FOR GOLD and spoke to it further in the Insights interview that afternoon. In hindsight and as we suggested then, these are critically important concepts to understand as you choose investments to protect and grow your wealth amid the financial chaos hidden from plain view and most peopleâs understanding. submitted by Ainslie_Bullion to SilverDegenClub [link] [comments] Anyone watching the financial twitter-verse will have seen the following chart that fits well into the above. Amid everyoneâs fixation on whether the Fed will or will not raise rates and stop Quantitative Tightening (QT), this happened since SVB was bailed out⌠https://preview.redd.it/hdrxh8fq26qa1.png?width=594&format=png&auto=webp&s=45a90926f40c8820828505362cfcf58089d6aefe And so debate rages over whether that was QE or not. Frankly it doesnât matter. What it signifies very very clearly, is the Fed has turned on the liquidity spigots to stabilise the banking situation. Whether its traditional QE (printing money to buy bonds) or, as appears to be the case here where they are âlendingâ newly created money to banks with their (underwater) bonds provided as collateral (so as not to trigger the mark to market losses should they actually sell them); the end result is a whole lot of new money pouring into the system to buy financial assets given banks canât give you any interest because the yield curve is inverted. That is not to mention how safe you feel with your cash in one at the moment too⌠Can kicked down the road again⌠Nothing to see hereâŚ. We referred to Cross Border Capitalâs Michael Howell in the abovementioned Ainslie article. He spoke insightfully to all this recently as follows: âWhen banks lose deposits it results in a tightening of liquidity conditions. Using the US as the example, the research based assumption has been that the minimum operating level of bank reserves was in the order of $2.5 trillion. Bank reserves have been sitting very close to that minimum number for quite a while now. The events of the past couple of weeks have shown that the level before things break is now likely closer to $3 trillion (which also makes sense that this number rises over time as global debt has also risen over time). The problem is that once you get a crisis the demand for reserves goes up so in actual fact that $3t number is currently rising and the level of reserves required in the system now is probably closer to $3.5 trillion. So what weâre looking at here is potentially a a significant increase in the size of the FED balance sheet to plug the hole. We can argue all day whether it is technically QE or not, but whichever way you look at it it's a liquidity easing because the Federal Reserve has no other choice than to backstop the system (which so far they have done very quickly and effectively the moment any real stress is identified). This ultimately results in monetary inflation and the best instrument that hedges against monetary inflation is gold because gold has been long-standing as a monetary inflation hedge. There is a subtle but very important distinction between a monetary inflation hedge and a High Street inflation hedge and gold is not always a great High Street inflation hedge but it's always been a very good monetary inflation hedge. The new version of a monetary inflation hedge is Bitcoin. Gold and Bitcoin are likely to be pretty decent measures of liquidity (they have a very high correlation to liquidity movements and act as a âbarometerâ of liquidity) so if liquidity goes up you could expect a significant step move higher in Gold and BTC.â The following charts spell this out very clearly (albeit the gold one hasnât captured the rally on Friday back up to near $2,000): https://preview.redd.it/0mucf8pr26qa1.png?width=940&format=png&auto=webp&s=463e2caa8f35ed96f832a2debe43165cfb399ffb You will see above that gold broke that correlation for a while in early 2022 as its other role, that of safe haven asset, was bid during the Ukraine invasion. That invasion never escalated to the point the market feared (yet) and it revisited its trend down in line with liquidity. As he said too, BTC follows it more closely than any other asset and it never got the Ukraine bid: https://preview.redd.it/yeuswsps26qa1.png?width=940&format=png&auto=webp&s=62234263ab0b0fb5554c8512df63f069361b206f The correlation, regardless, is undeniable. The logic behind it, likewise, undeniable. As more and more âmoneyâ is created and injected into the system, the more real money (unable to be simply printed or created) is the logical home for it. The global liquidity cycle is exactly that, a cycle. It somewhat predictably has 3.5 years up, 3.5 years down. Howell says it bottomed last October. Gold and bitcoin agree. If history repeats, as it has done for decades, then we have a 3 year bull market ahead of us. HAVE A QUESTION about today's news? This afternoon, the Gold & Silver Standard Insights team will be breaking down this news and answering YOUR questions. Submit your question below and SUBSCRIBE to the YouTube Channel to be notified when the GSS Insights video is live. |
2023.03.27 01:20 SleepySheepyzzz13 I'm 22 and I'm wondering if I have sensory processing issues, but I'm not entirely sure.
I'm a 22 year old female and I'm writing this post because I'm slightly suspicious that I may have sensory processing disorder.
At the moment I'm on a journey of medical self discovery. I am currently not working due to struggles with my mental health as a result of a traumatic series of events last year. I've been trying to seek appropriate medical attention in order to get myself well enough again to return to work. While I'm in this position, I may as well take advantage of it and use it as an opportunity to get some answers for some of my more 'odd' behaviors, some of which have been prevalent and unexplored for my entire life.
I know something is not quite right with me mentally, and I'm not entirely sure what it is. The possibility of anxiety and depression have been thrown around but I feel those generalised umbrella terms don't quite fit or don't cover the full extent of my behavior and I'm curious to find out what the real cause of some of it is.
I don't mean for this post to offend anyone who has diagnosed SPD, I'm just writing it to satiate my own need for answers so I can narrow it out if I'm completely off the mark. Below I've written a list of my little quirks that make me suspicious that I may have the condition. I don't know if some or even any of these things are related to sensory processing disorder, I'm just seeking the insight of those who know what my 'symptoms' may be related to.
It's very difficult for me to pinpoint whether these things are SPD or whether they are relevant to anxiety, depression and personal trauma. This condition in particular is so subjective that I honestly don't know.
submitted by SleepySheepyzzz13 to SPD [link] [comments]
At the moment I'm on a journey of medical self discovery. I am currently not working due to struggles with my mental health as a result of a traumatic series of events last year. I've been trying to seek appropriate medical attention in order to get myself well enough again to return to work. While I'm in this position, I may as well take advantage of it and use it as an opportunity to get some answers for some of my more 'odd' behaviors, some of which have been prevalent and unexplored for my entire life.
I know something is not quite right with me mentally, and I'm not entirely sure what it is. The possibility of anxiety and depression have been thrown around but I feel those generalised umbrella terms don't quite fit or don't cover the full extent of my behavior and I'm curious to find out what the real cause of some of it is.
I don't mean for this post to offend anyone who has diagnosed SPD, I'm just writing it to satiate my own need for answers so I can narrow it out if I'm completely off the mark. Below I've written a list of my little quirks that make me suspicious that I may have the condition. I don't know if some or even any of these things are related to sensory processing disorder, I'm just seeking the insight of those who know what my 'symptoms' may be related to.
- I've always had a hatred for clothing I believe to be 'uncomfortable' when I was little I used to refuse to wear trousers in the house because I hated how the clothes my mum would put me in felt against my skin. Today I still don't enjoy wearing more restrictive items such as jeans and will always prefer to wear soft, loose fitting clothing that I can easily move around in. When I'm home with nobody but my partner I'm often found in total slob mode in terms of my outfit because that's what I feel best in. I'm talking nothing but my hooded blanket and my pants, no bra.
- I can't stand 'scratchy' bed sheets. My partner bought a fresh bedspread that I'm assuming is made from a slightly thicker cotton than what I'm used to and I can't stand it being against my skin. When we have that set on the bed I will purposely sleep without the duvet touching me and opt for a soft blanket instead even if it makes me a bit cold in the winter.
- My current boyfriend is my first sexual partner. I can only climax if my clit area is stimulated. However, despite the fact I do find it pleasurable the pleasure is so overstimulating to me that It's almost like I'm being tortured at the same time as having a good time. I uncontrollably thrash around in the same way you would if you're being tickled (I'm ridiculously ticklish as well) and I after a short while I almost want him to stop touching me because I get so overloaded by the sensations it causes my body.
- I hate going to the hairdressers. Now that I think about it I've never been good with my hair being touched in any way. When I was a child I would have a tantrum if my mum brushed my hair and she pulled even slightly on a tangle, today I still feel the same level of irritation if I'm brushing my hair and it gets caught in the brush, obviously minus the temper tantrum. I don't like having my hair pulled, even in a sexual manner and I don't enjoy things like scalp massages or anyone generally playing with my hair. I don't like the hairdresser because I find it difficult having people 'buzzing' around my head talking to me and touching my hair, it's all I bit much for me.
- I get overwhelmed by loud noises, crowded spaces and anywhere where there's generally a lot going on. I tend to live in my own little world, I get stressed by unfamiliar people and I enjoy doing quite things either on my own or with my trusted close circle.
- I have some weird frustrations related to food. I get irritated if a food is taking a long time to chew like roast beef for example, I don't like it being in my mouth for too long. I sometimes flip out if I accidentally put foot in my mouth that's too hot, not spicy I mean in temperature. Eating food that's messy makes me feel anxious and frustrated, I don't like there being food residue on my hands or around my face. Spaghetti is a good example of a food I don't enjoy eating, I like the taste of it but I don't like the process of eating it. It takes too long to wind it around my fork, and I find the need to slurp it uncomfortable. If it has tomato sauce with it that can get on your face a little bit too and it's just not a fun time.
- If I get a headache it's always sensitive to light. I find that burrowing under a blanket and blocking out any light from coming into my eyes makes me feel better.
- My co-ordination is awful. I'm quite accident prone and clumsy, I'm all fingers and thumbs and I struggle with my left and rights. I find that fiddly tasks where I need to be a bit more meticulous are a slight challenge for me. I find it hard to do up buttons on a shirt for a example because my hands are quite shaky and my fingers fumble.
- I cannot abide clutter and excess stuff. This is a really weird trait of mine but I actually get stressed out when I get given presents of things that serve no purpose. Trinkets and knick knacks bother me, anything I don't directly use I will have the urge to throw away. This could be a trauma related thing, and may have nothing to do with an actual disorder though.
It's very difficult for me to pinpoint whether these things are SPD or whether they are relevant to anxiety, depression and personal trauma. This condition in particular is so subjective that I honestly don't know.
2023.03.27 01:14 BluebirdConsistent60 H: Various Weapons, Armor, Apparel, and Plans W: Apparel offers
Will bundle stuff depending on what's offered
Courier will be used no exceptions. Not getting burned again.
Gour-E-25LvC ⢠Jug-25ffr-15v ⢠TS-50c15r ⢠AA-50HC25LvC
⢠Fixers: ⢠Jug-50c-15v ⢠AA-50H-25LvC ⢠AA-25ffr-15fr ⢠AA-E-15c ⢠AA-E-90 ⢠TS-E-90 ⢠V-E-90 ⢠Fur-Aim-25LvC ⢠Fur-Rap-25LvC ⢠I-50crit-15v ⢠I-50HC-25lvc
⢠Misc Pews/Melee ⢠Clean EPR (Aligned Auto/Reflex/Stab Stock) ⢠I-40-40 chainsaw ⢠Med-E-25 LMG ⢠AA-50crit-50break .50cal
⢠Armor(Non-Pa) Uny/ap/wwr FSA Right Arm (WILL ONLY SWAP FOR URBAN) ⢠Uny/1p/Cav Urban Right Leg ⢠Uny/25rad/Sent Urban RA ⢠Uny/25rad/50fall Wood LA ⢠OE/Cryo/75% Reduced Urban RA ⢠Noc/15limb/7% Explosion Urban RA ⢠Noc/AW7% Explosion Urban RL
⢠PA Pieces ⢠OE-1Str-Cav Excavator RL ⢠TS-Sent-7% Explosion Excavator LL ⢠Noc/EDWwr T-45 LA
⢠Apparel ⢠Demon Mask ⢠Free Radicals Mask ⢠Hunters Longcoat ⢠Winter Jacket and Jeans+Wrapped Cap ⢠Clean Spacesuit+Clean Helmet ⢠Longshore + Yellow Slicker Hat
⢠Plans: ⢠SBQ Plushie ⢠Camo Backpack x2 ⢠Bottle Plush ⢠Cap & Bottle Cowboy Cutouts ⢠Cave Cricket Tube ⢠Circus Cage Trailer ⢠Classic Jack O Lantern ⢠Floor Safe ⢠Grim Reaper Vault Boy Cutout ⢠Junkyard Fountain ⢠Large Ultracite Shard ⢠Nuka Girl Rug x3 ⢠Poker set ⢠Red Truck Ceiling Light x4 ⢠Red Rocket Gas Station Lamp ⢠Safari Croc Backpack ⢠Scorched tube ⢠Sheriff's Hat ⢠Standing Gorilla x5 ⢠Sitting Gorilla x5 ⢠Snallygaster Plushie ⢠Tv Aquarium ⢠Titan Plushie x2 ⢠Townsfolk Cutouts ⢠Vintage Watercooler x2 ⢠Wall Mounted Fan x5 ⢠Wanamingo Plushie ⢠Wanted Posters ⢠Wendigo tube ⢠WV State Bird Rug ⢠Yao Guai Tube x2 ⢠Nuka Dark ⢠Overdrive ⢠Scaly Skin Serum Recipe
⢠500 Bog3 Maps can come up with another 500 just have to pull from mule.
⢠Can also buy up 500 badges worth of BP mods as well if a deal can be struck.
submitted by BluebirdConsistent60 to Market76 [link] [comments]
Courier will be used no exceptions. Not getting burned again.
Gour-E-25LvC ⢠Jug-25ffr-15v ⢠TS-50c15r ⢠AA-50HC25LvC
⢠Fixers: ⢠Jug-50c-15v ⢠AA-50H-25LvC ⢠AA-25ffr-15fr ⢠AA-E-15c ⢠AA-E-90 ⢠TS-E-90 ⢠V-E-90 ⢠Fur-Aim-25LvC ⢠Fur-Rap-25LvC ⢠I-50crit-15v ⢠I-50HC-25lvc
⢠Misc Pews/Melee ⢠Clean EPR (Aligned Auto/Reflex/Stab Stock) ⢠I-40-40 chainsaw ⢠Med-E-25 LMG ⢠AA-50crit-50break .50cal
⢠Armor(Non-Pa) Uny/ap/wwr FSA Right Arm (WILL ONLY SWAP FOR URBAN) ⢠Uny/1p/Cav Urban Right Leg ⢠Uny/25rad/Sent Urban RA ⢠Uny/25rad/50fall Wood LA ⢠OE/Cryo/75% Reduced Urban RA ⢠Noc/15limb/7% Explosion Urban RA ⢠Noc/AW7% Explosion Urban RL
⢠PA Pieces ⢠OE-1Str-Cav Excavator RL ⢠TS-Sent-7% Explosion Excavator LL ⢠Noc/EDWwr T-45 LA
⢠Apparel ⢠Demon Mask ⢠Free Radicals Mask ⢠Hunters Longcoat ⢠Winter Jacket and Jeans+Wrapped Cap ⢠Clean Spacesuit+Clean Helmet ⢠Longshore + Yellow Slicker Hat
⢠Plans: ⢠SBQ Plushie ⢠Camo Backpack x2 ⢠Bottle Plush ⢠Cap & Bottle Cowboy Cutouts ⢠Cave Cricket Tube ⢠Circus Cage Trailer ⢠Classic Jack O Lantern ⢠Floor Safe ⢠Grim Reaper Vault Boy Cutout ⢠Junkyard Fountain ⢠Large Ultracite Shard ⢠Nuka Girl Rug x3 ⢠Poker set ⢠Red Truck Ceiling Light x4 ⢠Red Rocket Gas Station Lamp ⢠Safari Croc Backpack ⢠Scorched tube ⢠Sheriff's Hat ⢠Standing Gorilla x5 ⢠Sitting Gorilla x5 ⢠Snallygaster Plushie ⢠Tv Aquarium ⢠Titan Plushie x2 ⢠Townsfolk Cutouts ⢠Vintage Watercooler x2 ⢠Wall Mounted Fan x5 ⢠Wanamingo Plushie ⢠Wanted Posters ⢠Wendigo tube ⢠WV State Bird Rug ⢠Yao Guai Tube x2 ⢠Nuka Dark ⢠Overdrive ⢠Scaly Skin Serum Recipe
⢠500 Bog3 Maps can come up with another 500 just have to pull from mule.
⢠Can also buy up 500 badges worth of BP mods as well if a deal can be struck.
2023.03.27 01:11 Static-Stationz [WeWantOut] 25F Molecular Scientist and 25M Cloud Engineer USA->Anywhere in Europe/UK
Iâm 25F who has a B.S. in Biology, worked 3 years as a clinical molecular scientist/technologist specializing in PCR Covid labs/infectious disease along with drug screening/testing in toxicology. Iâve been a supervisor and general supervisor of multiple labs. Iâve taken a break due to the terrible medical field here in Texas and now am an artist with my own business involving 3D modeling and printing. My partner, 25M, has a B.S. in Computer Science and has worked as an IT Systems Admin for 3 years with banks and is now almost a year into being a cloud engineer.
Iâm really worried about the state of things in the US and have been for a long time. Iâve lived all over the US so Iâm aware the east coast is better than Texas (I was raised in NJ) but I would prefer a country that gives more of a crap about its people, has good healthcare, and actually has laws that stand up for their workers.
Language wise, we only speak English but both of us are quite good at picking up languages if we practice. Weâre both VERY liberal and completely non-religious. Culture wise, we could fit into most places. Weâre both polite, hard working, kind, generous, and not very loud people. We donât really party and we prefer the comforts of our home, having guests over for board games and such. My partner loves being in the city, we wish for somewhere that has good public transit.
What countries would be best to look at that we could possibly get into with our jobs? Thanks â¤ď¸
submitted by Static-Stationz to IWantOut [link] [comments]
Iâm really worried about the state of things in the US and have been for a long time. Iâve lived all over the US so Iâm aware the east coast is better than Texas (I was raised in NJ) but I would prefer a country that gives more of a crap about its people, has good healthcare, and actually has laws that stand up for their workers.
Language wise, we only speak English but both of us are quite good at picking up languages if we practice. Weâre both VERY liberal and completely non-religious. Culture wise, we could fit into most places. Weâre both polite, hard working, kind, generous, and not very loud people. We donât really party and we prefer the comforts of our home, having guests over for board games and such. My partner loves being in the city, we wish for somewhere that has good public transit.
What countries would be best to look at that we could possibly get into with our jobs? Thanks â¤ď¸
2023.03.27 00:57 ClickMinimum9852 Dennis Dechaine and the whole truth
The purpose of this post is to gather correct and accurate information regarding the case in Maine of Dennis Dechaine. Over time facts become cloudy and despicable criminals become symbols to rally behind. I am hoping through our shared comparative analysis of the actual facts, evidence, and key points in the trial that we can shed some light on this darkest of subjects.
Here are some key pieces of evidence in no particular order of importance or timeline. SC = Sarah Cherry / MD = Mr. Dechaine:
Twice in MD testimony he makes these incriminating remarks regarding needing to leave the woods; ``we were beginning to lose the light at that timeâ and âwe had lost the light.â If he were alone in the woods, who are the âweâ he is referring to?
MD confessed to two prison guards, a male and a female. During his trial he admitted to the confession. His statement was âYou people need to know I am the man who killed that little girl.â Did you say to them âyou people need to know that I'm the one who murdered that girl and you may want to put me in isolationâ MD âYesâ MD testified that he said the exact words âYou people need to know that I am the man who killed that little girlâ
Initially the investigating team who was searching for SC thought that she was hiding, gotten lost, or ran away. When MD was initially questioned in the police cruiser about his items discovered in SCâs babysitting driveway he blurted âsomeone must have grabbed the girl and set me up!â This scenario is the classic law enforcement strategy of letting the perpetrator incriminate himself.
A half dozen âstreet shoeâ prints were found near the muddy stream bed 12 feet from SC's body. They were a few days old and consistent with SCs body discovery (a few days after her disappearance). Nobody in the search party wore âstreet shoesâ aka sneakers/tennis shoes. MD wore a pair of Nike shoes during his own self admitted time at this location. Each Nike shoe had a tiny spot on it. Both tested presumptively for blood. The spots were not a large enough sample to be tested further.
Items from the truck were found with MD name on them in the driveway of the home SC was babysitting at and went missing from. The items dropped from MD Toyota pickup in the driveway of the home where SC was babysitting are incredibly incriminating. The tire impression is a forensic match with a single front tire on MD Toyota pickup. The items found are a forensic match in terms of distance as having fallen out of the passenger side door. MD changed his testimony as to how and why these items were found at this location several times during his testimony.
Prior to SC being found MD sought out the counsel of a local lawyer. This lawyer, when asked by a detective if SC was still alive and where to look, told the detective that SC was dead and to continue looking in the area they already were, near MD truck. How could the lawyer know those two pieces of information? 3 affidavits were filed to show that Mr. Carlton (MD lawyer) had knowledge of MD guilt. Further need of this lawyer's testimony apparently wasn't needed at trial since MD had confessed in so many other ways as weâll see below.
The same make, model, and color truck that MD drove was witnessed/seen/heard leaving the area where SC was babysitting and slowly heading in the direction of the murder and where it was found by police.
Items from the truck (including rope, scarf, and bandana) that were known and admitted to belong to MD were used in the murder of SC.
The MDâs truck was found a few hundred feet from SC's body.
MD says the only keys to the truck were in his possession which was proven since his truck was found locked and impounded before he was able to return to it. Therefore his truck could not have been stolen. MD says he never locked his truck. If MD is innocent why did he have his keys with him? And why was the truck found locked? And why did he hide his keys in the police cruiser?
MD was known to carry a small pen knife on his key chain. SC had stab wounds on her body consistent with a small knife or blade. MD did not have this pen knife on his keychain which surprised even his wife. Where did the pen knife go? If innocent, wouldn't disclosing where the pen knife was have helped his cause during the trial?
MD was witnessed exiting the forested area where SC body would eventually be found.
MD was in the forested area during the timeframe SC was murdered according to rigor mortis and controlling for pathological science. The pathologist stated SC had been deceased for at least 36 hours. This is consistent with MDs admitted time near SCs death. Secondly and more importantly, pathologists use The Rate Method and The Concurrence Method to determine time of death. SC was known to have eaten lunch around noon of the day she disappeared. Food stays in the stomach for around 2 hours and possibly more under severe stress. SCs autopsy revealed undigested food in her stomach. This is even more consistent with MD admitted time near SCs murder.
MD was witnessed having a small muddy handprint on his back. It was photographed and displayed at trial. MD body, hands and clothing were observed by witnesses upon exiting the woods to be clean and unsoiled except this handprint.
MD had several small injuries on the insides of his forearms and small scratches (not bleeding) on his kidney areas.
A produce stand belonging to MD was reported to have been broken into on the 8th. The 6th was when items were found in the driveway and MD testified the auto repair receipt was in his truck. It wasnât admissible as the judge felt the timeline wasnât consistent with the known timeline and it was staged. So MD staged a break in, strangled Francis the cat, laid it on the cash register to fabricate evidence which the judge didnât allow. A brief mention of this with a sidebar conversation is in the testimony during a lawyer's objection.
MD's wife testified that he knew something was going to âhappenâ to him prior to the body being found. âWere you made aware of what he was anticipating and were you made aware of how he knew âsomethingâ? âYesâ
During her testimony MDs wife was not asked or would not allow questions revealing most of the dialog from MD before, during, and after his arrest. Why not? If he was telling her he was innocent the whole time why not say so on his behalf. She said MD told her not to say anything except one statement regarding dialog that supported his innocence.
It took an entire team of over a dozen law enforcement officials in half a dozen vehicles several hours to find MD Toyota pickup. In view of that for MDs testimony and timeline to fit the facts, someone had to have found his vehicle prior to the SCs kidnapping and stolen items, kidnapped SC and left items in the driveway, drove around for hours with SC and just so happens to have come across MDs vehicle a second time where this person possibly stole more items to use in the actual murder and definitely murdered SC a few hundred feet away from it. And why in the world did he lock the truck when he was done?
MD confessed directly and/or made incriminating statements to two detectives, two jailhouse security guards, his own lawyer, and his court appointed psychologist. Some of those statements are below.
MD asked the detective âwhy did you let me go home that nightâ a puzzling statement if MD was innocent
MD said to his state psychologist âthat he may have thought he did it..."
MD stated "I can't believe I could do such a thing. The real me is not like that. I know me. I couldn't do anything like that. It must be somebody else inside of me."
The MD defense was allowed to present any current and relevant evidence that would exonerate their client. To say they were not allowed to 'present' that evidence is false. During the course on any long trial, some things the judge allows on either side, some things the judge does not. They were able to present alternative suspects. Why would the prosecution pursue other suspects with overwhelming evidence against MDs guilt including his own professed guilt. There's nothing of consequence to point to the contrary. Bare footprints at the same property SC was babysitting at knowing she liked to walk around barefoot is not good evidence The supposed idea that SC was going to confess in court against so-and-so has no merit. That is a conspiracy theory within a conspiracy theory. Furthermore, if the 'lack of an opportunity to present evidence' as touted by MD is in fact true, that 'lost opportunity' is squarely on the side of MD and his defense during his trial AND after the trial. This judge allowed good evidence to be presented. Are we saying the judge was in on the conspiracy to frame MD too?
There is no magical DNA evidence to exonerate MD. At the time of this crime DNA testing was a radical and new technique. This crime happened in the summer of 1988. DNA testing for law enforcement work was actually pioneered in 1986 and successfully used in the UK in its first criminal case from 1987-1988.. The first successful trial was a Mr Pitchfork. The process was brand new and would take years to work its way into the legal system in the U.S. and into common law enforcement forensics. You cannot in hindsight fault anyone involved in MD trial for anything DNA related being considered as evidence in a small backwater town in the already isolated state of Maine.
DNA was not part of the forensics efforts of the investigative team at any point. MD has never and will never be exonerated with DNA. All DNA was compromised the moment law enforcement and medical personnel arrived at the crime scene and began forensics. No precautions were in place to gather or even protect future gathering of DNA. It simply wasn't a thing. Anyones DNA could have been added or removed from anything. Any attempt to appeal or exonerate MD using DNA simply wouldn't be allowed in court or it would have to be overwhelming evidence. This is proved by every single court, chemist, judge, lawyer, and other professionals who have rejected these DNA claims. In addition, even if DNA could be used, MD has not been ruled out. In fact his DNA profile hasn't been ruled out of some of the DNA testing done. Meanwhile, an individual whom MD claims could be a prime suspect HAS been ruled out of some of the DNA testing. To give an example would be SC fingernail clippings. These were taken via a fingernail clipping device that was not cleaned from its previous use, and was taken from a towel that was heavily soiled with other DNA. Said clippings traveled from location to location and could have been contaminated further by any number of people including MDs defense team who handled them. Finally, what forensics have been done to the clippings show that SC was not likely to have scratched her attacker since only blood was observed and this blood was all her own.
No evidence was found that SC was in or transported in MD truck. That is because people donât always leave behind DNA, especially after only a few miles of travel. The only forensics they looked for were hair, fiber, and fingerprints. The testimony of several law enforcement personnel during this trial and at times current crime scene investigators is this âsometimes we find it, sometimes we donât.â Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. To put into perspective, the fingerprint specialist could not find SCs prints in any of the main areas, door knobs etc of the very home she was babysitting at and had been there for hours. Only in one particular area was he successful. Law enforcement officials did testify that, due to the specific nature of paperwork being pressed into the seat, the passenger side seat looked like it had been sat in recently.
False information has been presented regarding the items in MDâs truck. Some of this information is that the only items with MDâs name on them in the truck were the only items found at SC babysitting driveway. This is false. There were dozens of items in the vehicle with MD information on them. One of these was his own wallet with identification in it. If you are trying to set someone up, why not drop the wallet?
Senecal had no knowledge of SC babysitting that day so how would he know to go there, kidnap torture kill her and set MD up?
All of the professional individuals involved in key evidence, DNA testing thus far, and those in the legal system up to this point agree MD has received a fair trial, and the evidence is overwhelming that he is guilty and should remain in jail. Ask yourself if you were then or now a jury member in this case. In review of all the lies, the âI guess soâ, âI donât rememberâ, âprobablyâ, âI supposeâ, âI wouldâ, âI might haveâ statements and outright lies MD was caught in and admitted to , how would you find the defendant?
https://smithforensic.blogspot.com/2016/08/dennis-dechaine-maine-denial-of-post.html
Dennis Dechaine: Maine; Denial of post-conviction review; Routine destruction of DNA lab evidence by the State enabled by state law - with perilous consequences to the defendant; (i.e. Dennis Dechaine. HL) ..." Many have argued that after numerous proceedi
STORY: "Dechaine's case highlights need for more reform," published by The Courier-Gazette on July 28, 2016. GIST: "This week we end our...
smithforensic.blogspot.com
https://dailybulldog.com/opinion/politics-other-mistakes-the-soddit-chronicles/
http://statement-analysis.blogspot.com/2012/10/dennis-dechaines-confession-within-his.html
đˇ
Dennis Dechaine's Confession Within His Statement
Monsters do exist and do kill children Pronouns are the most instinctive part of the human vocabulary. Pronoun...
statement-analysis.blogspot.com
https://casetext.com/case/state-v-dechaine-5
State v. Dechaine, 121 A.3d 76 Casetext Search + Citator
Read State v. Dechaine, 121 A.3d 76, see flags on bad law, and search Casetextâs comprehensive legal database
https://dailybulldog.com/opinion/politics-other-mistakes-the-soddit-chronicles/
submitted by ClickMinimum9852 to u/ClickMinimum9852 [link] [comments]
Here are some key pieces of evidence in no particular order of importance or timeline. SC = Sarah Cherry / MD = Mr. Dechaine:
Twice in MD testimony he makes these incriminating remarks regarding needing to leave the woods; ``we were beginning to lose the light at that timeâ and âwe had lost the light.â If he were alone in the woods, who are the âweâ he is referring to?
MD confessed to two prison guards, a male and a female. During his trial he admitted to the confession. His statement was âYou people need to know I am the man who killed that little girl.â Did you say to them âyou people need to know that I'm the one who murdered that girl and you may want to put me in isolationâ MD âYesâ MD testified that he said the exact words âYou people need to know that I am the man who killed that little girlâ
Initially the investigating team who was searching for SC thought that she was hiding, gotten lost, or ran away. When MD was initially questioned in the police cruiser about his items discovered in SCâs babysitting driveway he blurted âsomeone must have grabbed the girl and set me up!â This scenario is the classic law enforcement strategy of letting the perpetrator incriminate himself.
A half dozen âstreet shoeâ prints were found near the muddy stream bed 12 feet from SC's body. They were a few days old and consistent with SCs body discovery (a few days after her disappearance). Nobody in the search party wore âstreet shoesâ aka sneakers/tennis shoes. MD wore a pair of Nike shoes during his own self admitted time at this location. Each Nike shoe had a tiny spot on it. Both tested presumptively for blood. The spots were not a large enough sample to be tested further.
Items from the truck were found with MD name on them in the driveway of the home SC was babysitting at and went missing from. The items dropped from MD Toyota pickup in the driveway of the home where SC was babysitting are incredibly incriminating. The tire impression is a forensic match with a single front tire on MD Toyota pickup. The items found are a forensic match in terms of distance as having fallen out of the passenger side door. MD changed his testimony as to how and why these items were found at this location several times during his testimony.
Prior to SC being found MD sought out the counsel of a local lawyer. This lawyer, when asked by a detective if SC was still alive and where to look, told the detective that SC was dead and to continue looking in the area they already were, near MD truck. How could the lawyer know those two pieces of information? 3 affidavits were filed to show that Mr. Carlton (MD lawyer) had knowledge of MD guilt. Further need of this lawyer's testimony apparently wasn't needed at trial since MD had confessed in so many other ways as weâll see below.
The same make, model, and color truck that MD drove was witnessed/seen/heard leaving the area where SC was babysitting and slowly heading in the direction of the murder and where it was found by police.
Items from the truck (including rope, scarf, and bandana) that were known and admitted to belong to MD were used in the murder of SC.
The MDâs truck was found a few hundred feet from SC's body.
MD says the only keys to the truck were in his possession which was proven since his truck was found locked and impounded before he was able to return to it. Therefore his truck could not have been stolen. MD says he never locked his truck. If MD is innocent why did he have his keys with him? And why was the truck found locked? And why did he hide his keys in the police cruiser?
MD was known to carry a small pen knife on his key chain. SC had stab wounds on her body consistent with a small knife or blade. MD did not have this pen knife on his keychain which surprised even his wife. Where did the pen knife go? If innocent, wouldn't disclosing where the pen knife was have helped his cause during the trial?
MD was witnessed exiting the forested area where SC body would eventually be found.
MD was in the forested area during the timeframe SC was murdered according to rigor mortis and controlling for pathological science. The pathologist stated SC had been deceased for at least 36 hours. This is consistent with MDs admitted time near SCs death. Secondly and more importantly, pathologists use The Rate Method and The Concurrence Method to determine time of death. SC was known to have eaten lunch around noon of the day she disappeared. Food stays in the stomach for around 2 hours and possibly more under severe stress. SCs autopsy revealed undigested food in her stomach. This is even more consistent with MD admitted time near SCs murder.
MD was witnessed having a small muddy handprint on his back. It was photographed and displayed at trial. MD body, hands and clothing were observed by witnesses upon exiting the woods to be clean and unsoiled except this handprint.
MD had several small injuries on the insides of his forearms and small scratches (not bleeding) on his kidney areas.
A produce stand belonging to MD was reported to have been broken into on the 8th. The 6th was when items were found in the driveway and MD testified the auto repair receipt was in his truck. It wasnât admissible as the judge felt the timeline wasnât consistent with the known timeline and it was staged. So MD staged a break in, strangled Francis the cat, laid it on the cash register to fabricate evidence which the judge didnât allow. A brief mention of this with a sidebar conversation is in the testimony during a lawyer's objection.
MD's wife testified that he knew something was going to âhappenâ to him prior to the body being found. âWere you made aware of what he was anticipating and were you made aware of how he knew âsomethingâ? âYesâ
During her testimony MDs wife was not asked or would not allow questions revealing most of the dialog from MD before, during, and after his arrest. Why not? If he was telling her he was innocent the whole time why not say so on his behalf. She said MD told her not to say anything except one statement regarding dialog that supported his innocence.
It took an entire team of over a dozen law enforcement officials in half a dozen vehicles several hours to find MD Toyota pickup. In view of that for MDs testimony and timeline to fit the facts, someone had to have found his vehicle prior to the SCs kidnapping and stolen items, kidnapped SC and left items in the driveway, drove around for hours with SC and just so happens to have come across MDs vehicle a second time where this person possibly stole more items to use in the actual murder and definitely murdered SC a few hundred feet away from it. And why in the world did he lock the truck when he was done?
MD confessed directly and/or made incriminating statements to two detectives, two jailhouse security guards, his own lawyer, and his court appointed psychologist. Some of those statements are below.
MD asked the detective âwhy did you let me go home that nightâ a puzzling statement if MD was innocent
MD said to his state psychologist âthat he may have thought he did it..."
MD stated "I can't believe I could do such a thing. The real me is not like that. I know me. I couldn't do anything like that. It must be somebody else inside of me."
The MD defense was allowed to present any current and relevant evidence that would exonerate their client. To say they were not allowed to 'present' that evidence is false. During the course on any long trial, some things the judge allows on either side, some things the judge does not. They were able to present alternative suspects. Why would the prosecution pursue other suspects with overwhelming evidence against MDs guilt including his own professed guilt. There's nothing of consequence to point to the contrary. Bare footprints at the same property SC was babysitting at knowing she liked to walk around barefoot is not good evidence The supposed idea that SC was going to confess in court against so-and-so has no merit. That is a conspiracy theory within a conspiracy theory. Furthermore, if the 'lack of an opportunity to present evidence' as touted by MD is in fact true, that 'lost opportunity' is squarely on the side of MD and his defense during his trial AND after the trial. This judge allowed good evidence to be presented. Are we saying the judge was in on the conspiracy to frame MD too?
There is no magical DNA evidence to exonerate MD. At the time of this crime DNA testing was a radical and new technique. This crime happened in the summer of 1988. DNA testing for law enforcement work was actually pioneered in 1986 and successfully used in the UK in its first criminal case from 1987-1988.. The first successful trial was a Mr Pitchfork. The process was brand new and would take years to work its way into the legal system in the U.S. and into common law enforcement forensics. You cannot in hindsight fault anyone involved in MD trial for anything DNA related being considered as evidence in a small backwater town in the already isolated state of Maine.
DNA was not part of the forensics efforts of the investigative team at any point. MD has never and will never be exonerated with DNA. All DNA was compromised the moment law enforcement and medical personnel arrived at the crime scene and began forensics. No precautions were in place to gather or even protect future gathering of DNA. It simply wasn't a thing. Anyones DNA could have been added or removed from anything. Any attempt to appeal or exonerate MD using DNA simply wouldn't be allowed in court or it would have to be overwhelming evidence. This is proved by every single court, chemist, judge, lawyer, and other professionals who have rejected these DNA claims. In addition, even if DNA could be used, MD has not been ruled out. In fact his DNA profile hasn't been ruled out of some of the DNA testing done. Meanwhile, an individual whom MD claims could be a prime suspect HAS been ruled out of some of the DNA testing. To give an example would be SC fingernail clippings. These were taken via a fingernail clipping device that was not cleaned from its previous use, and was taken from a towel that was heavily soiled with other DNA. Said clippings traveled from location to location and could have been contaminated further by any number of people including MDs defense team who handled them. Finally, what forensics have been done to the clippings show that SC was not likely to have scratched her attacker since only blood was observed and this blood was all her own.
No evidence was found that SC was in or transported in MD truck. That is because people donât always leave behind DNA, especially after only a few miles of travel. The only forensics they looked for were hair, fiber, and fingerprints. The testimony of several law enforcement personnel during this trial and at times current crime scene investigators is this âsometimes we find it, sometimes we donât.â Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. To put into perspective, the fingerprint specialist could not find SCs prints in any of the main areas, door knobs etc of the very home she was babysitting at and had been there for hours. Only in one particular area was he successful. Law enforcement officials did testify that, due to the specific nature of paperwork being pressed into the seat, the passenger side seat looked like it had been sat in recently.
False information has been presented regarding the items in MDâs truck. Some of this information is that the only items with MDâs name on them in the truck were the only items found at SC babysitting driveway. This is false. There were dozens of items in the vehicle with MD information on them. One of these was his own wallet with identification in it. If you are trying to set someone up, why not drop the wallet?
Senecal had no knowledge of SC babysitting that day so how would he know to go there, kidnap torture kill her and set MD up?
All of the professional individuals involved in key evidence, DNA testing thus far, and those in the legal system up to this point agree MD has received a fair trial, and the evidence is overwhelming that he is guilty and should remain in jail. Ask yourself if you were then or now a jury member in this case. In review of all the lies, the âI guess soâ, âI donât rememberâ, âprobablyâ, âI supposeâ, âI wouldâ, âI might haveâ statements and outright lies MD was caught in and admitted to , how would you find the defendant?
https://smithforensic.blogspot.com/2016/08/dennis-dechaine-maine-denial-of-post.html
Dennis Dechaine: Maine; Denial of post-conviction review; Routine destruction of DNA lab evidence by the State enabled by state law - with perilous consequences to the defendant; (i.e. Dennis Dechaine. HL) ..." Many have argued that after numerous proceedi
STORY: "Dechaine's case highlights need for more reform," published by The Courier-Gazette on July 28, 2016. GIST: "This week we end our...
smithforensic.blogspot.com
https://dailybulldog.com/opinion/politics-other-mistakes-the-soddit-chronicles/
http://statement-analysis.blogspot.com/2012/10/dennis-dechaines-confession-within-his.html
đˇ
Dennis Dechaine's Confession Within His Statement
Monsters do exist and do kill children Pronouns are the most instinctive part of the human vocabulary. Pronoun...
statement-analysis.blogspot.com
https://casetext.com/case/state-v-dechaine-5
State v. Dechaine, 121 A.3d 76 Casetext Search + Citator
Read State v. Dechaine, 121 A.3d 76, see flags on bad law, and search Casetextâs comprehensive legal database
https://dailybulldog.com/opinion/politics-other-mistakes-the-soddit-chronicles/
2023.03.27 00:50 SpiderTuber6766 Custom Cobra Characters using Heroforge
 | I am a newer fan of G.I. Joe. Mostly got introduced by the Transformers crossing over with them. I'm also a fan of military fiction and sci-fi so perfect fit! submitted by SpiderTuber6766 to gijoe [link] [comments] Anyways I've made these models as ideas for designs and characters, a few of you may recognize some. I also love how Cobra commander turned out. Speaking of... I've been trying to find a Cobra Commander I like for the past month for a reasonable price. Like the Retro Cobra Commander. The one that's just a modern fig with a classic card? Yeah, everywhere I go it's up to $25 or $50. He comes with less stuff than the trooper! Can't a guy just get a decent 3-inch figure with decent possibility? Ugh... So if anyone knows where to get a Cobra Commander that doesn't have an eye-watering price please let me know. |
2023.03.27 00:41 Frugit 21F - letâs talk about how bored we are
Hi!!! Hello!! Iâm here to bring as much chaos as I can fit into a conversation today đ
First before I start⌠I wonât talk to anyone younger than me. Yâall younger folk make me uncomfortable so random 20yr still reading this. This is your cue to scroll away.
Like most of the population I have hobbies and they includeâŚ
Music- if you name a mood or a particular feeling a could give you a song that matches up to that feeling. Iâm sure thatâs a special talent but I like to think it is.
True crime- I listen to a lot of true crime which is just insane because Iâm scary and end up looking over my shoulder all day long. I donât know why I do it to myself but I do. Itâs interesting I canât help it
Cars- I love cars. Iâm a fan of the classics and I love the modern cars too my dream car is an R8. But at the moment I drive a tiny little Kia forte so Iâm cheering yâall on from a distance please please please send my pictures of your cars. I like those more than dogs pictures
Extreme Ironing đ - yes itâs a thing, Iâm in my extreme ironing era đđ. Iâve been really getting into ironing in extreme conditions like upside down in the oven đ Iâm kidding I didnât even know that was a thing until five minutes ago but Iâm gonna start watching that
Well I guess I better stop listing everything or else there wonât be any reason to message me
Youâre still here??? And you havenât messaged me? Thatâs crazy
Please please please donât start off with a boring hi, I probably wonât respond to that, start off with your dream car and your asl. Orrr start off with an embarrassing story Iâm ready to get secondhand embarrassment đ. Also if you see this put a đ in your message so I know youâve read this.
submitted by Frugit to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]
First before I start⌠I wonât talk to anyone younger than me. Yâall younger folk make me uncomfortable so random 20yr still reading this. This is your cue to scroll away.
Like most of the population I have hobbies and they includeâŚ
Music- if you name a mood or a particular feeling a could give you a song that matches up to that feeling. Iâm sure thatâs a special talent but I like to think it is.
True crime- I listen to a lot of true crime which is just insane because Iâm scary and end up looking over my shoulder all day long. I donât know why I do it to myself but I do. Itâs interesting I canât help it
Cars- I love cars. Iâm a fan of the classics and I love the modern cars too my dream car is an R8. But at the moment I drive a tiny little Kia forte so Iâm cheering yâall on from a distance please please please send my pictures of your cars. I like those more than dogs pictures
Extreme Ironing đ - yes itâs a thing, Iâm in my extreme ironing era đđ. Iâve been really getting into ironing in extreme conditions like upside down in the oven đ Iâm kidding I didnât even know that was a thing until five minutes ago but Iâm gonna start watching that
Well I guess I better stop listing everything or else there wonât be any reason to message me
Youâre still here??? And you havenât messaged me? Thatâs crazy
Please please please donât start off with a boring hi, I probably wonât respond to that, start off with your dream car and your asl. Orrr start off with an embarrassing story Iâm ready to get secondhand embarrassment đ. Also if you see this put a đ in your message so I know youâve read this.
2023.03.27 00:31 Power__FAT Stronger by Science - Reps In Reserve Program Results & Review
I just finished all 21 weeks of Stronger By Science - Reps in Reserve program.
After reading reviews of various programs and using the progress of othersâ as motivation for myself, I figured I would submit my own report, now that Iâve made it all the way through the program.
I am a 36 year old dude. I am 69â tall. I work as a nurse anesthetist. Up until 3 weeks ago my wife and I were living in a fifth wheel traveling the country while I do contract anesthesia work. Iâve been in Knoxville, Tennessee for 10 months. I found an excellent gym here called Frankies Body Shop. Itâs my favorite of any I have used while doing travel workâŚCalibrated Eleiko plates, Rogue and Texas Power bars, Deadlift bars, Squat bars, Competition racks, platformsâŚ. It kicks ass.
A few weeks ago we moved out of the fifth wheel and into a furnished rental. If I can run 21 week fitness program while living in a fifth wheel, and cooking in an RV kitchen, you can too.
Stats:
Deadlift: 405lb â> 507lb with change not visible from front
Squat: 365 â> 445lb & again, change plates not visible from front
Bench Press: 250lb â> 280lb
Background:
I have existed in various stages of fitness and fatness for most of my life. I have always had a stocky build, and have been a generally âstrongâ person while untrained and in comparison to other untrained people. I grew up playing competitive sports, and was first introduced to weight training in my early teens by some of my coaches. However, I have not maintained regular, structured, weight training in my adult life.
At around age 26 I was in the worst shape of my life and I stumbled into a Crossfit gym near my house. I think I weighed around 254lbs. In getting started at the gym I was reintroduced to weight training, albeit entirely different than most of the barbell movements I had done before. I stuck with Crossfit for about 3 years, going 5x/week. I shed a ton of weight, reaching a lowest weight of 211 lbs. During this time I never took nutrition as seriously as I should have. I was all about restricting calories, without thought to how much protein I was or wasnât getting. Due to poor technique, poor recovery and a âjust get it off the groundâ mindset, I became chronically injured. At first it was small nagging injuries. Eventually I herniated some cervical discs in my neck, and was having trouble doing anything in the gym or out of the gym without pain. I tried to work around it for several months, but ultimately walked away from Crossfit, and all structured training entirely. My squat and deadlift PRâs above come from this time period.
I dabbled in and out of the gym from 2016 -2021, but never made any real progress. I gained all the weight back that I had lost during my Crossfit years. I continued moving my body, but I donât know that I was ever really doing myself any good.
In December 2021/January 2022, I was once again completely de-conditioned, fat and generally unhappy with myself. I found the /weightroom Program Party, which that year was the SBS program. I joined in, doing the SBS linear progression for the first 8 or 9 weeks of the program party, and having good success, until in week 9 I aggravated an old quadriceps tendonitis injury. This made squatting impossible. In the past, I have let injuries like this completely de-rail me. This time, however, I continued working. I stopped squatting, and I stopped the SBS programming and progressive overload, but I DID continue going to the gym. I mainly did 3-4 days per week, maintaining the maxes that I had worked up to during the program party. I definitely had some fuckaround-itis, but I continued doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 225 bench, 315 dead lift and 135 OHP, for like 9 months. I didnât get any heavier on the barbell, but I at least didnât lose what I had. While I didnât do any 1RM testing during this time, I did use my performance on these lifts to estimate my 1RMâs for programming my initial 1RMâs for the SBS program.
My diet was still completely unchecked during this time from March 2022 - September 2022.
In September 2022, something happened to me, and I donât know exactly what triggered it at that particular moment. I just had this generally restless and discontent feeling. I thought maybe I needed more excitement in my life, or a career change, or SOMETHING. Instead, I recognized it for what I think it really was, which was a complete dissatisfaction with what I had allowed myself to become physically. I had a major mindset shift. I re-downloaded MyFitnessPal, and chose to do the SBS Reps in Reserve Program. 4x/week
The Program:
SBS is a 21 week program, split into three 7 week phases. Every 7th week is a de-load. The program consists of a spreadsheet on google Drive where you choose the exercises you want to do, how many days you want to train, and then enter in your starting 1RM weights for your chosen exercises. The program loads and updates your training weights based off of your performance at the prescribed weight. For $10, it is an insane value.
I estimated my maxes at the start based on what I had been lifting in the gym for the first 9 months of the year. My quad tendonitis had stopped bothering me to the point that I believed I could squat again, but started very light. I used the following figures to start the program:
Bench Press: 250 Deadlift: 405 Squat: 275 OHP: 150
Accessories/auxillaries:
I made an adjustment to my bench, squat and deadlift auxiliary work around week 16, after having a coaching session with one of the powerlifting trainers who works with clients at my gym.
Squat auxiliary work - Slow tempo squats (changed from slow tempo squats + pin squats)
Bench auxillary work - Slow tempo bench + close grip bench (changed from pin press + close grip bench)
Deadlift auxiliary work- Paused Deadlift (changed from sumo dead lift)
OHP auxillary work - Dumbbell OHP (unchanged)
Accessory work was mostly centered around upper back, and I trained upper back at the end of every session: Lat pull-down, Cable row, Chest supported dumbbell rows, and Barbell rows
For diet, I ran a deficit for the first 15 weeks, averaging around 1,900 kcal/day and around 200g of protein a day. By week 15 I was feeling totally drained. I bumped kcal back up closer to maintenance of ~2400kcal/day, still staying between 180-220 g of protein most days from week 16 - 21. Main staples in my diet were: Whey protein (up to 4 scoops some days), chicken breasts, 0% greek yogurt, steel cut oats, salmon, ground turkey and egg whites. Alcohol was limited to no more than 2 drinks per week, usually vodka if anything. I would wager that I had fewer than 6 beers during this 21 week program.
I ran no supplements other than whey protein, collagen and a multi-vitamin.
Most training days I was at the gym for approximately 1 hour and 40 minutes. I had a hard time getting out of there any faster, especially as the weeks go on and the loads get heavier. Doing a lot of tempo work probably doesnât help that. And I am a very slow warm-up person.
Hiccups:
Pearls:
I am very happy with the results of this program. I lost 32lbs, and gained a ton of strength. I had a goal to hit a 500lb deadlift by the end of this program, and I crushed it last week, hitting 507lbs. I am also really happy with my progress on squat, blowing my previous 1RM of 385 out of the water with a 445 set. My bench is still not where I want it to be, but Iâm happy with the progress there as well. I think I obviously harnessed some degree of noob gains during this run, or maybe underestimated some of my true 1RM's, and likely benefitted from improving my form.
All of my clothes fit differently. A belt that I could barely buckle 21 weeks ago now buckles about mid-way down like a normal belt should. I had to buy a different lifting belt, because the one I purchased at the beginning of the program was too big by week 17. I dropped a scrub size at work. My jeans are loose. My love handles are less. I generally feel tighter and less like Iâm spilling out over myself. Still work to be done, undoubtedly, but a hell of a lot better than I was at the beginning. I may still be a gross, hairy dude, but Iâm a little less gross today than I was 21 weeks ago, except for having grown a mustache.
Next for me, we move to North Carolina for my next work assignment. Weâll be in a furnished rental there. I think I have found a gym in that town that will work for what I need. I will eat at maintenance for another 2 or 3 weeks, and then probably do this all over again, utilizing my new 1RMâs for programming the second run. My goal will be to keep these 1RMâs if not increase them, while dropping to body weight to 205lbs. I think that should be doable. Thanks gnuckols & team for an awesome program.
submitted by Power__FAT to weightroom [link] [comments]
After reading reviews of various programs and using the progress of othersâ as motivation for myself, I figured I would submit my own report, now that Iâve made it all the way through the program.
I am a 36 year old dude. I am 69â tall. I work as a nurse anesthetist. Up until 3 weeks ago my wife and I were living in a fifth wheel traveling the country while I do contract anesthesia work. Iâve been in Knoxville, Tennessee for 10 months. I found an excellent gym here called Frankies Body Shop. Itâs my favorite of any I have used while doing travel workâŚCalibrated Eleiko plates, Rogue and Texas Power bars, Deadlift bars, Squat bars, Competition racks, platformsâŚ. It kicks ass.
A few weeks ago we moved out of the fifth wheel and into a furnished rental. If I can run 21 week fitness program while living in a fifth wheel, and cooking in an RV kitchen, you can too.
Stats:
- 36 year old male.
- 69â tall.
- Starting body weight: 252lb 1 and 2
- Ending body weight: 220lb *
- Ice-cream vs Protein
- Weight loss graph
Deadlift: 405lb â> 507lb with change not visible from front
Squat: 365 â> 445lb & again, change plates not visible from front
Bench Press: 250lb â> 280lb
Background:
I have existed in various stages of fitness and fatness for most of my life. I have always had a stocky build, and have been a generally âstrongâ person while untrained and in comparison to other untrained people. I grew up playing competitive sports, and was first introduced to weight training in my early teens by some of my coaches. However, I have not maintained regular, structured, weight training in my adult life.
At around age 26 I was in the worst shape of my life and I stumbled into a Crossfit gym near my house. I think I weighed around 254lbs. In getting started at the gym I was reintroduced to weight training, albeit entirely different than most of the barbell movements I had done before. I stuck with Crossfit for about 3 years, going 5x/week. I shed a ton of weight, reaching a lowest weight of 211 lbs. During this time I never took nutrition as seriously as I should have. I was all about restricting calories, without thought to how much protein I was or wasnât getting. Due to poor technique, poor recovery and a âjust get it off the groundâ mindset, I became chronically injured. At first it was small nagging injuries. Eventually I herniated some cervical discs in my neck, and was having trouble doing anything in the gym or out of the gym without pain. I tried to work around it for several months, but ultimately walked away from Crossfit, and all structured training entirely. My squat and deadlift PRâs above come from this time period.
I dabbled in and out of the gym from 2016 -2021, but never made any real progress. I gained all the weight back that I had lost during my Crossfit years. I continued moving my body, but I donât know that I was ever really doing myself any good.
In December 2021/January 2022, I was once again completely de-conditioned, fat and generally unhappy with myself. I found the /weightroom Program Party, which that year was the SBS program. I joined in, doing the SBS linear progression for the first 8 or 9 weeks of the program party, and having good success, until in week 9 I aggravated an old quadriceps tendonitis injury. This made squatting impossible. In the past, I have let injuries like this completely de-rail me. This time, however, I continued working. I stopped squatting, and I stopped the SBS programming and progressive overload, but I DID continue going to the gym. I mainly did 3-4 days per week, maintaining the maxes that I had worked up to during the program party. I definitely had some fuckaround-itis, but I continued doing 3 sets of 3 reps at 225 bench, 315 dead lift and 135 OHP, for like 9 months. I didnât get any heavier on the barbell, but I at least didnât lose what I had. While I didnât do any 1RM testing during this time, I did use my performance on these lifts to estimate my 1RMâs for programming my initial 1RMâs for the SBS program.
My diet was still completely unchecked during this time from March 2022 - September 2022.
In September 2022, something happened to me, and I donât know exactly what triggered it at that particular moment. I just had this generally restless and discontent feeling. I thought maybe I needed more excitement in my life, or a career change, or SOMETHING. Instead, I recognized it for what I think it really was, which was a complete dissatisfaction with what I had allowed myself to become physically. I had a major mindset shift. I re-downloaded MyFitnessPal, and chose to do the SBS Reps in Reserve Program. 4x/week
The Program:
SBS is a 21 week program, split into three 7 week phases. Every 7th week is a de-load. The program consists of a spreadsheet on google Drive where you choose the exercises you want to do, how many days you want to train, and then enter in your starting 1RM weights for your chosen exercises. The program loads and updates your training weights based off of your performance at the prescribed weight. For $10, it is an insane value.
I estimated my maxes at the start based on what I had been lifting in the gym for the first 9 months of the year. My quad tendonitis had stopped bothering me to the point that I believed I could squat again, but started very light. I used the following figures to start the program:
Bench Press: 250 Deadlift: 405 Squat: 275 OHP: 150
Accessories/auxillaries:
I made an adjustment to my bench, squat and deadlift auxiliary work around week 16, after having a coaching session with one of the powerlifting trainers who works with clients at my gym.
Squat auxiliary work - Slow tempo squats (changed from slow tempo squats + pin squats)
Bench auxillary work - Slow tempo bench + close grip bench (changed from pin press + close grip bench)
Deadlift auxiliary work- Paused Deadlift (changed from sumo dead lift)
OHP auxillary work - Dumbbell OHP (unchanged)
Accessory work was mostly centered around upper back, and I trained upper back at the end of every session: Lat pull-down, Cable row, Chest supported dumbbell rows, and Barbell rows
For diet, I ran a deficit for the first 15 weeks, averaging around 1,900 kcal/day and around 200g of protein a day. By week 15 I was feeling totally drained. I bumped kcal back up closer to maintenance of ~2400kcal/day, still staying between 180-220 g of protein most days from week 16 - 21. Main staples in my diet were: Whey protein (up to 4 scoops some days), chicken breasts, 0% greek yogurt, steel cut oats, salmon, ground turkey and egg whites. Alcohol was limited to no more than 2 drinks per week, usually vodka if anything. I would wager that I had fewer than 6 beers during this 21 week program.
I ran no supplements other than whey protein, collagen and a multi-vitamin.
Most training days I was at the gym for approximately 1 hour and 40 minutes. I had a hard time getting out of there any faster, especially as the weeks go on and the loads get heavier. Doing a lot of tempo work probably doesnât help that. And I am a very slow warm-up person.
Hiccups:
- After the first 15 weeks, I was feeling banged up. My AC and SC joints were super sore to the point that I stopped barbell OHP. With my history of cervical herniated discs, and the fact that I donât compete in any sport anymore, I decided to stop performing that lift for now. I did continue doing dumbbell OHP, because it doesnât seem to hurt.
- I got sick 1 week during the program, around week 18 or 19. I was able to train through it, without missing any sets or reps on main lifts. I limited accessory work this week.
- I moved one week, during week 20. I was SO busy and stressed. I missed several training days, and my diet consisted of whatever I could grab. I drank alcohol a few nights during moving week, but nothing excessive.
Pearls:
- Probably one of the best things I did during this program was to enlist the help of one of the trainers at my gym. I would classify myself as an experienced novice in lifting. I knew how to do the basic lifts mostly safely, but benefitted enormously from expert coaching. After one session with him on squat/bench/deadlift, I felt like my form and progress skyrocketed. I also had some pain issues developing that were fixed with his form tweaks and cues. So I would recommend anyone who has coaching available, try out a session.
- SBS includes an Over-warm singles box on the spreadsheet that you can use to help accurately program weights for your working sets. The general gist is that an overwarm single should be a weight that is an RPE of 8 for you (2 reps in reserve) If you enter it into the spreadsheet, the program will automatically update your training maxes, and may increase or decrease the weight for your working sets based on that new data. If you are estimating your 1RMâs when setting up the program, doing and reporting your overwarm singles will help get your weights dialed in correctly.
- I am really glad that I took regular video of my sets. Watching playback of my hard work had definite positive reinforcement for me. It also allowed me to lift more efficiently, and recognize things that may need attention, and enlist feedback from others on form and cues.
- Nutrition is paramount. All of the hard work and effort that I put in at the gym could have easily been undone with poor eating habits- Either not counting calories, or not ensuring adequate protein intake. Grocery shopping and meal prep on Sunday was a huge benefit throughout the week. Taking chance out of it (what i I canât get to the store, or get home late, or we donât have this ingredient, or I forgot to pack my lunch, etc) makes things so much easier. You just eat what you made, and you bring your food to work, and thatâs that. Thatâs just what you do, and its a lot easier to do it correctly this way.
I am very happy with the results of this program. I lost 32lbs, and gained a ton of strength. I had a goal to hit a 500lb deadlift by the end of this program, and I crushed it last week, hitting 507lbs. I am also really happy with my progress on squat, blowing my previous 1RM of 385 out of the water with a 445 set. My bench is still not where I want it to be, but Iâm happy with the progress there as well. I think I obviously harnessed some degree of noob gains during this run, or maybe underestimated some of my true 1RM's, and likely benefitted from improving my form.
All of my clothes fit differently. A belt that I could barely buckle 21 weeks ago now buckles about mid-way down like a normal belt should. I had to buy a different lifting belt, because the one I purchased at the beginning of the program was too big by week 17. I dropped a scrub size at work. My jeans are loose. My love handles are less. I generally feel tighter and less like Iâm spilling out over myself. Still work to be done, undoubtedly, but a hell of a lot better than I was at the beginning. I may still be a gross, hairy dude, but Iâm a little less gross today than I was 21 weeks ago, except for having grown a mustache.
Next for me, we move to North Carolina for my next work assignment. Weâll be in a furnished rental there. I think I have found a gym in that town that will work for what I need. I will eat at maintenance for another 2 or 3 weeks, and then probably do this all over again, utilizing my new 1RMâs for programming the second run. My goal will be to keep these 1RMâs if not increase them, while dropping to body weight to 205lbs. I think that should be doable. Thanks gnuckols & team for an awesome program.
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