The global airway management devices market size was valued at USD 1.81 billion in 2021 and is projected to reach a valuation of USD 1.89 billion in 2022. The market is expected to reach USD 2.55 billion by 2029 with a CAGR of 4.4% during the forecast period. Owing to rising cases of chronic diseases such as chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), cancer, chronic lung diseases, and others have put emphasis on better treatment of such conditions. Rising number of joint ventures and start-ups is projected to aid market development. Fortune Business Insights™ shares this information in its report titled “Airway Management Devices Market, 2022-2029.”
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Key Industry Development
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• January 2022- Intersurgical Ltd announced the acquisition of Pulmodyne, Inc. to provide Intersurgical and for increased sales of the Pulmodyne ranges through the extensive global Intersurgical Ltd network.

Drivers and Restraints
Rising Number of Joint Ventures and Startups To Propel The Demand For Product
Rising number of joint ventures and startups in the industry are anticipated to drive the airway management devices market growth. Number of market players have been focusing on producing airway devices which are technologically advanced along with development of new R&D centers. Additionally, rising production by key players and approval from regulatory bodies for low-cost devices is expected to boost market growth. In April 2021, Medtronic launched the largest R&D center in India to launch new devices, advancing new technologies in surgical navigation and imaging, airway devices, ventilators, and many others.
However, complications such as regurgitation and aspiration of gastric contents, compression of vascular structures, trauma and nerve injury are expected to limit the market growth.
COVID-19 Impact:
Postponements of Non-Essential Surgeries During Pandemic Led to Decline in the Market Progress
The COVID-19 pandemic led to the decline in market growth for airway management devices in 2020. Various countries across faced challenges in accessing medical care and treatment due to postponements & de-prioritization of non-essential surgeries. In 2021, according to Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), the U.S. emergency department (ED) visits declined by 42% from for some time in 2020, after the declaration of a national emergency for COVID-19 pandemic. As per the estimates, ED visits from December 2020 to January 2021 were 25% lower than during the same months in 2019.
Segmentation
Infraglottic Devices To Lead With Rise in Chronic Respiratory Disorders
On the basis of type, the market is divided into infraglottic devices, supraglottic devices, laryngoscopes, and others. Infraglottic devices held the largest share in the year 2021 due to rise in the chronic respiratory disorders and adoption of such devices by healthcare providers in intensive care units.
Click here to get the short-term and long-term impact of COVID-19 on this market.
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1978:
Warren Beatty as the voice of Moses
Terence Stamp as the voice of Rameses
Jane Fonda as the voice of Tzipporah
Joanna Cassidy as the voice of Miriam
Donald Sutherland as the voice of Aaron
Sidney Poitier as the voice of Jethro
Christopher Lee as the voice of Pharaoh Seti
Angela Lansbury as the voice of Queen Tuya
Dick Van Dyke as the voice of Hotep
Gene Wilder as the voice of Huy
Director: Ralph Bakshi
Distributed by Paramount Pictures
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1988:
Kurt Russell as the voice of Moses
Pierce Brosnan as the voice of Rameses
Jessica Lange as the voice of Tzipporah
Geena Davis as the voice of Miriam
Christopher Walken as the voice of Aaron
Morgan Freeman as the voice of Jethro
Sean Connery as the voice of Pharaoh Seti
Julie Andrews as the voice of Queen Tuya
Charles Gordin as the voice of Hotep
Billy Crystal as the voice of Huy
Director: Don Bluth
Distributed by Universal Pictures
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1998:
Alec Baldwin as the voice of Moses
Kenneth Branagh as the voice of Rameses
Sharon Stone as the voice of Tzipporah
Demi Moore as the voice of Miriam
John Travolta as the voice of Aaron
Samuel L. Jackson as the voice of Jethro
Anthony Hopkins as the voice of Pharaoh Seti
Julie Christie as the voice of Queen Tuya
Chevy Chase as the voice of Hotep
Rick Moranis as the voice of Huy
Directors: Brenda Chapman, Steve Hickner, and Simon Wells
Distributed by DreamWorks SKG
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2008:
Josh Brolin as the voice of Moses
Ewan McGregor as the voice of Rameses
Nicole Kidman as the voice of Tzipporah
Angelina Jolie as the voice of Miriam
Keanu Reeves as the voice of Aaron
Denzel Washington as the voice of Jethro
Liam Neeson as the voice of Pharaoh Seti
Jane Seymour as the voice of Queen Tuya
Tim Allen as the voice of Hotep
Steve Carrell as the voice of Huy
Director: Tim Johnson
Distributed by Paramount Pictures/DreamWorks Animation SKG
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2018:
Chris Evans as the voice of Moses
Tom Hiddleston as the voice of Rameses
Charlize Theron as the voice of Tzipporah
Gal Gadot as the voice of Miriam
Ben Affleck as the voice of Aaron
Laurence Fishburne as the voice of Jethro
Ralph Fiennes as the voice of Pharaoh Seti
Elizabeth Hurley as the voice of Queen Tuya
Jim Carrey as the voice of Hotep
Ed Helms as the voice of Huy
Director: Dean DeBlois
Distributed by Universal Pictures/DreamWorks Animation
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2028:
Austin Butler as the voice of Moses
Aaron Taylor-Johnson as the voice of Rameses
Margot Robbie as the voice of Tzipporah
Hailee Steinfeld as the voice of Miriam
Adam Driver as the voice of Aaron
Idris Elba as the voice of Jethro
Daniel Craig as the voice of Pharaoh Seti
Kate Winslet as the voice of Queen Tuya
Jimmy Fallon as the voice of Hotep
Seth Rogen as the voice of Huy
Director: Walt Dohrn
Distributed by Universal Pictures/DreamWorks Animation
View Poll

I completed drivers ed when I was 16. I planned to take my driving test in the same year but my mom wouldnt allow me, because she said I would need money to pay insurance (even though I had a summer job). I got my permit at 16 and completed my behind the wheel at 16. Right before I went to college in 2014 my mom decided to say why haven't you taken or driver's test... I had not drove for awhile took my test and failed. Since then I rarely ever practice driving because I have such a fear of driving. I'm fine to practice in empty parking lots and have sometimes worked up the courage to drive on side roads. Last summer was the first time I drove in a few years. My gf has been very supportive and encouraging of slowly getting me back in the habit of practicing driving, but I'm so afraid of driving I always make up excuses to not practice. I have severe anxiety and I use to use the excuse of dissociation even though it's much under control now. Last time I drove last summer I went on a very busy road unknownlingy and had to pull to a side road and I broke out in tears. I have discussed this with my old psychologist who encouraged me to continue driving... How can I get over this fear of driving? My one and only fear is crashing that's it I'm afraid of getting in an accident. I want to be able to drive how do I push past this fear?

Driver’s Education, commonly referred to as Driver’s Ed, is a course designed to teach individuals how to drive safely and responsibly. Although some people may view it as an unnecessary expense, the benefits of taking Driver’s Ed far outweigh the cost.
In conclusion, taking a Driver’s Ed course offers numerous benefits, including learning safe driving techniques, understanding traffic laws and regulations, building confidence behind the wheel, reducing insurance costs, fulfilling state requirements, and enjoying the convenience of online learning. Whether you’re a new driver or simply looking to improve your driving skills, Driver’s Ed is a valuable investment in your safety and the safety of others on the road.

Have you ever had the experience of swearing you saw something at the edge of your vision, peering at you from around a corner before? I’m fairly sure a good chunk of people have, maybe even you reading this right now. Regardless of whether you’re in a crowded area such as a mall or school, or home by yourself, you’ve more than likely had that strange sensation of being watched, usually accompanied by a slight shiver down your spine. You’ll snap your head up from whatever it is you’re doing, or whoever you’re talking to. And nothing will be there. But, you always swear that, at the very edge of your vision, you saw something. A slight blur, as if something was there, but seemed to anticipate your move, and pulled back out of sight. I’m fairly certain most of you just end up shaking it off. You shake your head, telling yourself that nothing was there, and go back to what you were doing.
That’s a good thing. Because it’s what keeps you safe. It’s what keeps you alive.
Like many of you, for years, I always wrote seeing the slight blur at the edge of my sight off as a trick of my eyes. “Being so focused on one particular area that the rest of your vision goes fuzzy” as my mother once told me when I, as a child, told her I’d seen something at the doorway to my bedroom. And as I grew older, I simply took it as fact, the way every child takes their parent’s wisdom to heart. And once I became an adult, I simply waved it away completely.
That was, until one night.
You see, as a thirty-something year old bachelor who makes just above the line of adequate pay, I live by myself in a small, one bedroom apartment. It means having to live farther out from the city where I work, but I prefer living alone over not having to make the rather long drive to and from work every day. And, because my free time during the day is close to zero, I also am a bit of a night owl. This particular night, about three and a half weeks ago, I was up late, sitting at my kitchen table with my laptop out in front of me. I was surfing the net, looking for good deals on EBay for a new DVD/VCR combo since my old one broke, when the feeling came over me. The small, but noticeable shiver shot up my spine, and at the upper edge of my vision, just below where my hair began to drift into my eyes, I saw it.
It was a black and silver blur. At least, that’s what it looked like to me. I lifted my head quickly, looking towards the corner I’d seen it. My kitchen is in the back of the apartment, and where the table is set up, I was looking back out into the living room. The bedroom also sits next to the kitchen, and the wall separating the two stretches out a bit, causing a rather large blind spot from where I sat. Of course, when I looked up, there was nothing there. For a few more seconds, I simply sat, staring at the corner. Nothing moved. There was no sound except for the quiet whine of my laptop’s fan, and the hum of the fridge. I snorted. Really, Eddie? You’re jumping at shadowy blurs now? What are you, eight years old again? And with a shake of my head, I went back to the computer screen.
The hours seemed to pass by at an accelerated pace, and to my surprise, when I checked the clock at the bottom right of my laptop screen, the time said quarter to three in the morning. “Holy crap, I stayed up too friggin’ late!” I whispered to myself. I’d barely be getting four or five hours of sleep. And so, with a yawn, I shut my computer down and put it back into its carrying bag. As I stood up, though, a slight feeling of apprehension wiggled its way to the forefront of my mind. I lifted my head from zipping up the bag and again stared at the corner. This time there was nothing there. No blur at all. Recalling what my mother had told me years ago, I stood up and slowly stepped into the center of the kitchen, where I could see around the corner. I felt a small pang of embarrassment at the relief that washed over me as I saw nothing was there.
“What next, you gonna start believing in the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus again?” I muttered to myself. And with that, I entered my bedroom, shutting the door behind me and climbing into bed. For a moment, the image of the blur danced behind my eyelids. And then the sandman overtook me, plunging me into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The next day passed by like I was wading through quicksand. Of course, it likely had to do with how tired I was. But I got through the day, and soon enough, I was back home. This time, I resolved to get to bed before midnight. One AM at the latest. So I didn’t go on my computer. Instead, I watched some TV, and indulged myself in a few online matches in Battlefield 1. Soon enough, the clock sitting next to the TV displayed 12:35 in big red numbers. Alright, time for bed, I thought, and stood up, shutting off the TV and Xbox. I decided that I would get myself a drink before bed, and moved to the fridge. Opening it, I pulled a pitcher of juice out, and grabbing a glass from a nearby cabinet, poured myself some. The cold liquid felt good sliding down my throat, and I let out a relieved sigh. For a moment, I closed my eyes. Apart from the sound of a diesel truck passing by outside, and the ticking of the clock over the sink, all was silent. And I loved it. I placed the glass in the sink to wash tomorrow, and turned to take the pitcher back to the fridge.
And nearly dropped it at what I saw. As I turned around, I had a clear view across the kitchen and living room toward the small alcove where my front door sat. And for just a second, I saw the same black and silver blur, pulling back out of sight from the edge of my vision. Except this time, I know it wasn’t just a trick of my vision, or a strand of hair flashing in front of my face. “Hey!” I reflexively yelled out. I didn’t expect any response, and I didn’t get any. But now I knew for certain. There was something, or someone there. I felt my pulse rapidly quicken, and my heart began to beat like a drum against my chest. Fucking great, did someone decide to break in and try to burgle my apartment, of all places tonight? I looked around quickly for something to defend myself. My eyes fell upon the block holding all my kitchen knives, and moving quickly, I pulled the largest one out and turned back towards the entryway.
There was no movement now, but I noticed a change in the atmosphere. Gone was the simple, vacant air the apartment always held. Now, it seemed to contain a charge to it. As if seeing the figure had been something they hadn’t planned on. As if I weren’t supposed to have seen it. Probably figured I’d already be in bed. Well, they have a massive surprise coming their way. I cleared my throat. “You back there” I called out simply. Again, there was no reply. I spoke again. “Look, I saw you there peeking around the corner of the entryway. The jig is up. I don’t want a fight right now, so, I’ll make you a deal. If you turn around right now and leave, I won’t call the cops on you, and I won’t come at you with this knife. Just, go find someone else to rob, okay?”
Still, there was silence. But the tension in the room seemed to have racked up more than a few notches at my words. I waited for a minute, feeling my temper begin to flare. Does the dumbass seriously believe that if he stays quiet, I’ll believe he’s not there and go to bed or something? It wouldn’t be a surprise; the people who usually broke into houses and apartments in my neighborhood were usually strung out on the drug of choice for the week, or, in all truthfulness, simply not that bright. I let out an annoyed growl. “If I have to come over there to get, it’s not gonna end well for you” I said. At six feet even, and in good shape, I could easily take on whoever it was.
The silence was almost deafening. Okay, the hell with this, man. I strode quickly across the room, the knife held out in front of me in a vice like grip. I stopped for a moment, drawing in all my strength and reflexes. For a moment, though, an odd sensation seemed to wash over me like a wave. To my surprise, it was a bolt of fear. But, fear of what? Yes, it was a bit dangerous to about to confront a cornered intruder, but fear shouldn’t be one of the experienced emotions. Shaking it away, I put all the muscle into my legs, and leapt around the corner.
There was nobody there.
For a moment, I simply stood there, feeling dumbfounded. “Uhhh….what?” I blurted out. I knew for a fact I’d seen someone there. It hadn’t been a trick of my eyes. And I hadn’t heard the front door open. In fact, looking down at it now, I saw the little knob on the door handle was, in fact, twisted into the locked position. As I stared down at it, a sudden, huge shiver rushed up my spine, combined with the feeling of being stared at intensely. In fact, it almost felt as though whoever were doing the staring, were almost directly behind me-shit!
On instinct, I whirled around, slashing out with the knife as hard as I could. But again, there was nothing. No one stood behind me. The oddest thing, though, was that as soon as I spun around, the feeling of eyes boring into the back of my skull ceased. As if the watcher had simply blinked out of existence the moment I turned. But the tension in the apartment didn’t go away. In fact, it almost seemed to intensify. And it kept me on edge. Enough to the point that I searched the entire apartment. I went into the bathroom, drawing back the shower curtain. I went into my bedroom and opened up the sliding doors to the closet. I even opened up both closets in the living room, pulling out all the coats and boxes someone could hide behind. But I found nothing. No trace of anybody. Even still, though, when I went to bed, I locked the door to my bedroom behind me, just in case. And I slept with the knife on my bedside table.
The next morning, when I awoke, the feeling had vanished from the apartment. It was almost as if the daylight had banished the tension filled aura away, and I was glad for it. Along with the fact that I had a full day of work ahead of me. And so, with a final look around, I locked the front door behind me, climbed into my old, but well taken care of Mitsubishi Starion, and made the two and a half hour drive into the city for work. The day passed by without much fuss, aside from a mandatory team meeting my dickhead boss decided to impose on us during our lunch break. The monotony calmed me down somewhat, and I began to mentally tease myself for how bent out of shape I’d gotten last night. I even decided to tell some of the guys at the water cooler about it.
Everyone, of course, had a good laugh over it. “Well, Ed, if I ever need someone to slice away at the dark emptiness of my house, I’ll be sure to give you a call!” Mark, one of my coworkers joked, causing everyone, including myself, to guffaw some more. The joking shoved it completely out of my mind, and before I knew it, the evening had arrived. I packed up my belongings back into the car and made the journey back home, still chuckling a bit to myself and humming along to the songs playing on the car’s radio. As I pulled into my apartment building’s parking lot and into my space at close to ten at night, however, I saw something which tore away that relaxed, relieved emotion from me like it’d been a loved one in the grip of a tsunami.
My complex is set up in a U formation with two floors, sort of similar to how an older built motel looks. My apartment was the second one on the top floor, and from where I sat in my car, I could look up and see the living room window of my place between the slats of the walkway’s railing. As I always did, when I left, I’d twisted shut the white venetian blinds so nobody walking past the window could look into my place.
Someone was peering down at me from between the blinds. From between my blinds.
I felt my blood turn to ice as I saw the obvious parting in the middle of them, signifying someone was pulling down on a section of them. And then doubly so when they, just as quickly, snapped back into position. Shitttt, I mentally hissed. I fumbled around in my coat pockets, looking for my cell phone. I let out a groan as I suddenly realized I’d forgotten it when I’d left home that morning. Which meant it was up there. With them. “Shit” I hissed again, out loud this time. I gazed around for a moment at the darkened windows of the other units. But I knew none of my neighbors would be of any help to me. Long gone were the days of neighbors looking out for each other; they would, inevitably, tell me to either find a way to call the cops myself, or straight up tell me to go fuck myself, that it wasn’t their problem. Which, unless I wanted to drive straight to my local police station, over twenty minutes away, the only other option was…to go in myself.
Hissing through gritted teeth, I pulled the door handle and kicked the door open, letting the chilly night air flood into the car’s interior. I reached down and yanked on the trunk release before climbing out and slamming the door. Crossing to it, I pulled the glass hatch up and fumbled around inside for a moment, before withdrawing a tire iron from the mess of crap cluttering up the trunk. Slamming the hatch closed, I took a deep breath, then, leaving my car’s engine running in case I needed to make a quick getaway, I took the stairs to the top floor two at a time. A moment later, I was standing at the head of the landing, staring at the Tweety-Bird yellow painted door of my apartment. My heart pounded in my chest as I took a step forward, reaching out slowly and gripping the handle in one hand. I gave it a small twist to see if it would turn.
But it stayed in place, showing that the door was still locked. Or, whoever’s in there locked it behind them. Swallowing a bit, I reached into my pants pocket for my house keys with my free hand. Pulling them out, I slid them as quietly as possible into the lock in the center of the doorknob. I took a deep breath, knowing as soon as I twisted the key, the doorknob would turn with it as well. “God, please don’t let me get jumped as soon as I step inside” I quietly whispered towards the dark sky. I let out the deep breath, then raised the tire iron over my head and twisted the key.
The knob turned, and I immediately pushed the door open. It swung inwards, before hitting the wall with a soft clunk. The porch light cast a long, narrow shaft of light into the dark room beyond, reflecting off my flat screen TV on the far side of the living room. Aside from that, though, the place was as dark and silent as a tomb. My pulse quickened as I slowly reached inside, my hand searching for the light switch. Part of my feared that, as I blindly searched, I’d suddenly feel a vice like grip seize my wrist and pull me into the dark. The mental image sent a shiver of fear through me, just as my fingers found the plastic switch. Flicking it on, the living room suddenly became awash in the bright overhead light. Still holding the tire iron over my head, I took a tentative step inside. The atmosphere in here had changed again. Gone was the tense one which had accompanied seeing…whoever the other night. In its place was….an almost threatening one. And realizing it set me even farther on edge.
Moving quickly, I leaned around the corner, giving me a glimpse of the kitchen beyond. Both it, and the living room were empty, from initial appearances, anyways. But that still left the bathroom, and the kitchen. Something caught my eye, however, which filled me with relief. My cell phone still sat where I’d left it, in the middle of the living room coffee table. I moved slowly, trying to stay as quiet as possible so whoever was hidden wouldn’t realize I was going for my phone and bum rush me. I held my breath as I passed by the half open doors of both my bathroom and bedroom, stepping around the couch and picking up my phone. I decided right there and then, that I’d step back outside and call the cops. There was a fine line between being courageous, and being suicidally stupid, and searching this place on my own, with just a tire iron to defend myself, especially knowing someone was hiding somewhere in here, was firmly on the latter side of that line.
I turned to begin walking quickly back to the open front door. But something stopped me. Something which made me freeze. There was a small section of eggshell white wall between the door to one of my closets, and the bathroom door. Something had been written there. No, not written, I realized. It had been scratched into the wall. My eyes flashed over the three words etched into the paint and plaster. Videre nos potest. My head swam with confusion, trying to place what language it was. That was when I felt my heart almost stop in my chest, my breath along with it.
Out of the left corner of my vision, I saw the door to my bedroom had slowly, but noticeably swung open a bit. That wasn’t what had caused my heart to skip a beat, though. It was seeing the black and silver blur again. Ohhhhh, shit. Before the thought had finished in my head, I was dashing for the door. Out of the corner of my vision, there was a sudden blur of movement as the black and silver figure came flying out of the room. It never made a sound, though. I dodged it, somehow, and flew around the corner, snatching the doorknob in my free hand and yanking the door shut behind me. Twisting the keys to the right to lock the door again, I tore them from the lock and thundered back down the stairs, yanking the door to my car open and crashing into the driver’s seat. Slamming the door shut and locking it, I dropped the tire iron and fumbled with my phone.
As the voice of the emergency dispatcher came on the other end of the line, and I stumbled through explaining what had happened, I kept my gaze locked through the windshield on the front door and the living room window. I swear I saw the blinds part again as I heard the wail of the police sirens approaching.
When the police arrived, I jumped out of my car and quickly explained what had happened. They took my house keys from me and with their pistols drawn, climbed quickly up the steps to my place. With neighbors opening their doors and parting their blinds to see what was happening, they unlocked the door and quickly entered. A few minutes later, they both reappeared and waved for me to come up and join them. “I’m sorry sir, but whoever it was, they’re gone” one of them said to me. He then showed me that the window in the back of the apartment, which was in the back of the kitchen and opened out onto a main road, had been opened, the mosquito screen having been cut to allow someone to jump out. I stared out and down at the two story drop. It would hurt to jump from this height, but it’s doable, I thought. The cops again did a sweep of the apartment, turning the entire place upside down with me there, and again, found no one. They both promised to stay the night outside, to keep an eye on the place in case the person attempted to try and come back, and would make sure an officer was posted outside for the next week or so. It made me feel more than a bit better.
“What about the writing scratched into the wall?” I asked them, pointing to it. The first officer shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, sir” he said, giving me an apologetic look, “That’s a language I’ve never seen before” That’s when the second spoke up. “It’s Latin” he said simply. We both looked at him. He was staring at the writing with a bit of a confused, if not apprehensive look on his face. “But what freaking low level criminal knows Latin?” he murmured quietly, more to himself than us. “Well, what does it say?” I asked him. For a few seconds, he didn’t answer, then he finally turned and looked at me.
“He can see us. That’s, roughly, what it says”
I felt a massive chill shoot up my spine at his words, though I couldn’t understand why. Not at the time.
As promised, the officers watched over the apartment the rest of the night. And for the next week, there was always at least one cop car sitting outside. It was also, thankfully, quiet that next week. I was almost able to feel completely calm, putting the frightening experience out of my mind and allowing my life to regain a bit of normalcy. I didn’t feel any sensation of being watched. One thing I did do, though, was type the Latin words into Google, in an attempt to see if anything came up. But nothing did. I decided to push the last remnants out of my conscious mind. And as the weekend came, I looked forward to sitting on the couch, playing video games all night, and having a bottle of Hypnotiq to myself. Saturday night, I played until almost one in the morning, before stumbling my drunk ass to the bed. I passed out almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I’m honestly not sure what woke me up. But when I slid my eyes open, it was still to darkness. I felt my head begin to spin, showing that I wasn’t fully sober yet. I shot a look at the bright red glowing numbers of the clock on the bedside table next to my head. 3:30AM. Ugh, what the hell? Do I have to piss? What woke me u-
Everything stopped. My mind froze mid-thought, and my heart fluttered in my chest. My breath hitched in my chest as my eyes adjusted to the dark, staring across the room. I was looking at my bedroom closet, which, when I’d fallen asleep, I’d looked over and seen it closed. But now, as I stared, I realized the sliding right door had been pulled back some. A chill ran through me. And then it was replaced by a bone chilling shiver of fear as my eyes locked on to something else. Something which stared at me from around the edge of the half open closet door.
It was the black and silver blur. Except this time, it wasn’t a full on blur. I’m not sure whether it was the darkness or the alcohol still flowing through my veins, but…I could see it a bit more clearly now. I couldn’t see much. Just what looked like two large, very dark eyes, glaring at me. I felt frozen in place, fear quite literally paralyzing me to the bed. As I lay there, my eyes widened to the size of saucers, I slowly became aware of something else. Something which I’ll never forget, which I can still hear in the silence. It was whispering. It was a soft, hissing voice, sounding as grating as sandpaper, but it almost seemed to be growing in intensity. As if it knew I was awake and was staring at it. And it was not even remotely happy about it. The words were indistinguishable at first, but as the voice grew louder, the words became clear. But they weren’t words I knew. Or a language I knew.
“Tolle qui nos videre potest. Tolle qui nos videre potest. Tolle…qui nos videre potest!” I recognized some of the words as the same as the words written on my wall. It was speaking in Latin. The voice grew angrier and angrier, turning from a hiss into almost a demonic growl. And then, it went deadly silent. It almost seemed as though the entire world had gone dead silent, as if everything were being sucked out of the world.
That’s when I saw the hand reach up from underneath the bed to grab onto the sheets, less than a foot from my face. A hand which more resembled a claw, tipped with five razor sharp fingernails. There’s more than one….and it’s under my fucking bed!
Seeing that hand…that claw reaching up from under the bed broke the paralyzing hold that had come over me. I flew up in bed, flinging the sheets up and forwards and letting out an involuntary scream. Instantly, there seemed to be a world of motion in the bedroom. Black and silver blurs seemed to appear from everywhere. From the closet, from under the bed. Even from inside my armoire I used to store candy, books and CDs. And they were all coming for me.
But I was already moving, practically flying for my open bedroom door. Behind me, I caught the blurs following after me. They were terrifyingly fast, but they stayed silent. Silent, that is, except for the mantra they all suddenly began to angrily whisper. The same words I’d heard the one in the closet angrily hiss. “Tolle qui nos videre potest!” they chanted, just loud enough for me to hear. But not enough for anyone else in the complex to. I ran through the bedroom door, grabbing it and slamming it shut behind me. A moment later, I felt the push from the other side as whatever the things were attempted to force it open. Looking around, I spied a kitchen chair within reach and grabbed it, forcing it under the handle to block the door.
I knew it wouldn’t hold for long, though. I could hear the creatures practically throwing themselves at the door. I used the time I had to grab my computer bag, along with the clothes I’d left strewn on my living room floor and my cell phone. I’d just snatched my car keys from their hook, when I realized they’d gone silent. The assault on the door stopped. For a split second, I felt a wave of relief. And then I saw something out of the corner of my eye from the kitchen. My blood turned to ice as I realized the cabinet doors under the sink were beginning to open. And that demonic growl of a mantra was beginning to pour out from under it. So was my bathroom door. And both closets. “Oh, fuck me” I whimpered, then dashed for my door, snatching up my sneakers as they rushed out from their new hidey holes.
I unlocked and threw the door open, dashing out into the night and yanking it shut behind me. Bolting down the steps, I jammed the key into the door of my car and unlocked it. I piled into the driver’s seat and yanked the door shut, slamming down on the lock button. Forcing the key into the ignition and twisting it, the engine roared to life. I knew I should simply call the cops, but I knew at this point, if I did, when they arrived, they’d all have disappeared. Maybe even make it look like another person had jumped out the window again They're THAT smart. Instead, I jammed the shifter into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot. As I left, I saw the blinds part again. As they watched me go.
I haven’t been back to my apartment in weeks. I drove all through the night, fighting back the waves of nausea from the alcohol still in my system until I made it to the city where I work. I rented a motel room, and ever since then, I’ve been staying there. I figured I could just eventually have movers go and collect my things from the apartment, and give my thirty day notice. There was no way I was ever going back there.
I thought I would be safe in the city. I thought I would be safe anywhere else but my apartment. That they were bound to the place.
I was wrong. So very wrong.
Because I’ve started seeing them everywhere now. I’ve seen them while out in crowded places such as the mall or Wal-Mart. I’ve seen them in my coworker’s houses when I’m invited over by them as they tell me they’re concerned about how I’m beginning to act. I’m even seeing them at work. Peering at me from around the corners of hallways, from behind the water cooler. I’ve even caught them glaring at me from around the corner of my office cubicle. They whisper that horrible Latin mantra to themselves, now added with evil chuckles. And whisper it to me. I ended up entering the phrase into Google Translate, to understand what they were saying. But wish I never had. Because knowing meaning of the words fills me with an existential dread and terror I’ve never felt before.
Take away he who can see us
You need to listen to me now. You, reading this account I’m posting. I don’t know what these creatures are. I wish I did, because then, I might have some way of fighting back against them. I don’t even know what they fully look like. I’ve only seen their eyes. And their clawed hands. The only thing I can deduce, is that they are incalculably old. Centuries old. Maybe even eons. I now understand that those blurs I saw all throughout my life, from the corner of my vision, were them. They’ve lived alongside us for all of humanity’s existence, staying just out of sight. They like it that way. They don’t like us humans knowing about them.
But I know others, not just myself, have likely seen them.
How many strange cases of people disappearing in their homes, with all the doors and windows locked from the inside have you heard about. I know I’ve heard more than a few. And I think I know what happened to them. They saw these creatures. And when they realized the people could see them? They came for them. They wore them down, mentally and physically. Like they’re doing to me now. I’m afraid to fall asleep. Afraid I’ll wake up to see them right in front of me. I feel so weak now. I couldn’t fight them off if I tried. They know that. They knew that about the others. And that’s when they dragged them away….to God only knows where.
I know I'm going to find out soon enough.
Because all of today, they’ve been getting closer. I caught one trying to grab my leg under my desk. That wasn’t the scariest encounter I’ve had. The worst was driving back to the motel. Looking in the rear view mirror of my Starion. And seeing one of them glaring at me from just behind the rear seat. It caused me to nearly crash into a telephone pole. I’ve locked myself in my motel room, which is where I’m writing this. I don’t have much time left. They’re beginning to poke their heads out from everywhere in here. Multiple have popped their heads up from under the bed, watching me frantically typing this out on my laptop. And they’re all laughing at me. Today is when they're going to take me. They know I know that. I can’t do anything more now. I can’t run from them anymore. I’m too tired. Too weak.
But I can do one final thing. I can warn you. I can post this account here as a warning. I know for a fact most of you won’t believe me. And that’s fine. It may even be what saves you in the end.
But please, listen to me when I say this. If you ever think you see something peering at you from around a corner? If you ever catch a glimpse of a black and silver blur disappearing just out of sight? Don’t investigate it. Just ignore it. Tell yourself it’s nothing, and go about with your lives.
Because you don’t ever want them to realize you can see them.

Sorry, this is long. I am just wondering how others handle negative comments from ex spoused/baby mamas or their significant others around stepchild?
We have sole custody of stepdaughter 15 all this past school year and this coming summer. We also took on sole responsibility of any expenses and agreed ex-wife would not pay any child support or medical bills. They have been divorced for 13 years. Stepdaughter is going to a week long camp in exe’s town. We contacted ex asking if she wanted to see daughter, but she didn’t reply until the literal morning we were leaving.
Ex and her bf came and picked up daughter from hotel and immediately started picking apart everything we did with her this school year.
While with us she was on honor roll for the first time, walked onto Varsity softball, JROTC, took animation classes, guitar lessons, private softball lessons, drivers ed, got driving permit and started private counseling. She will also do a softball camp and some SAT prep this summer.
The first thing they asked was “Why didn’t your dad just come down on Saturday so we could spend all weekend with you?”. My husband was surprised, he said “They didn’t even respond to my texts when I asked if they wanted to meetup to see or have dinner while in town, they responded to me Sunday morning.” keep in mind, it is a 4 hour drive for us and we both work.
The very next thing they asked was if we go to church (they ask her this every time). Daughter said no and they said, “Well when we have you next year, you’re going to church and church camp. What do they even do on Sundays if they don’t go to church? Just grocery shop, why can’t they go to church?” Kind of the pot calling the kettle black as the mom has 2 other children by different men that she was never married to and the youngest is 3 and they still aren’t married. Not to mention she was still with second babys father in a relationship and living together when she met her current BF and then ended up leaving and getting pregnant. Second baby’s father called and told my husband she would always be out all night and leave both kids with him. We didn’t get involved in that at all, not our business (as long as my stepdaughter was safe).
They then asked about her grades and said “You’re gonna have to work hard on keeping your grades up cuz we live a different lifestyle than your dad.” I don’t know what that means, daughter implied they do a lot more activities, but all we did for grades was consistently log in and check her grades/assignments are turned in and email her teachers to see if there were missing assignments. We also didn’t give her any other responsibilities besides school and activities so she could focus on homework.
Lastly, they asked if she would do Softball and JROTC and almost talking her out of it because “she probably wouldn’t make Varsity at their bigger school”.
The ex usually isn’t super negative, its usually her BF and I hate hearing about him because he is so negative to my stepdaughter.
He told my stepdaughter an art degree was a waste of money, even though he’s not paying for any of her college (nor is her mom, just me and spouse), that she can’t go to a community college (again they aren’t paying), that we live in the sticks (we live in a suburb of a large city) and constant comments about why we don’t attend church or “do anything fun”. The bf even said he didn’t want the older sibling (who isn’t even his kid) to take dance lessons because it would “make him gay” or when my stepdaughter shared her love of anime with his son she was “turning him into a nerd”.
After many losses and fertility issues, we are finally pregnant with an Ours baby and they immediately laughed and told my husband “You better hope it’s not a girl because our daughter will be jealous.” So lord knows what they tell her on the side. My stepdaughter was excited and even more so when she found out she was finally getting a sister (she loves her little brothers from her mom dearly, but wanted a sister in addition. She is a great big sister!)
I don’t want my stepdaughter to not talk to me about things in her life, I have always been someone she felt she could tell things to for the past 7 years, but I can’t stand hearing ANYTHING those two say (specifically the bf) when it is negative. How do you deal with this?!
Only 2 more years before college, I don’t even care that we still have to pay CS for 3 months after graduation (although I wish it went straight to my stepdaughter for anything she wants of needs for college at that point) I just need to know how you deal with these comments until you don’t have to deal with ex or her bf directly anymore?

More information: After his 19th birthday in 1863, "Maj. Whitlock" was ambushed, kidnapped, and turned into a vampire by the Mexican vampire Maria, "while on his way back to Galveston after evacuating women and children". It's never clarified by author Stephenie Meyer which Civil War conflicts that Jasper participated in, but below is a quick timeline based on a few minutes of Googling.

• 1 January 1863 - Confederate troops under Gen. John B. Magruder recapture Galveston from Union forces under Maj. Gen. Nathaniel B. Parks in the Battle of Galveston. Galveston would remain under Confederate control until the end of the war.
• 8 September 1863 - The Second Battle of Sabine Pass occurs. A "small garrison of 46 Confederates from the mostly-Irish Davis Guards, under Lt. Richard W. Dowling, 1st Texas Heavy Artillery, defeated a much-larger Union force from New Orleans under Gen. William B. Franklin". Maj. Gen. Nathaniel B. Parks also oversaw the Union's failed attempt to retake Galveston.
• 2-6 November 1863 - Union troops "successfully secured possession of the region near the mouth of the Rio Grande and the Texas outer islands" in the Battle of Brownsville. On November 6, Confederate General Hamilton P. Bee orders the evacuation of all of the civilians in Brownsville, and abandons the neighboring Ft. Brown. Gen. Bee personally oversees the burning of military supplies and cotton; 8,000 pounds of explosives are set off, causing a massive explosion which frightens the fleeing citizens. Confederate troops then move into Brownsville, causing riots, looting, and destruction. The looters are opposed by a local militia raised by General Jose Maria Cobos, an exile from Mexico.
• November 1863 - Newly promoted to the rank of "Major", Santos Benavides - the highest-ranking Tejano officer in the Confederate military - leaves the 33rd Texas Cavalry to form his own regiment of Texas cavalry. His unit is assigned to patrol the Rio Grande and defend Corpus Christi. (Maj. Benavides had previously been known for successfully getting Confederate cotton across Union blockade lines to Mexico.)

I'm assuming here that what author Stephenie Meyer alluded to in the book(s) was that "Maj. Jasper Whitlock" was kidnapped and turned while assisting in the Confederate evacuation of Brownsville, with Meyer stating that "Maj, Whitlock evacuated women and children to Galveston". This would pinpoint to his likely date of "disappearance" being 6 November 1863. The disappearance of "Maj. Whitlock" would thus prompt the promotion of Santos Benavides to the rank of Major in his place (?).
However, there is a major issue with this, and that is that Brownsville is a 6 1/2 hour drive from Galveston (166 hours by foot). It's unclear if evacuation by sea would've been ideal, or what exactly happened with the Confederate evacuation of Brownsville (i.e. where civilians were relocated to).

Should I feel bad for not focusing on my driving? I'm a younger guy and, not 18 yet. My parents keep saying g I need it for my life and I agree with them but, I still, not focusing on it. I dont know why.
I got my permit once... and didn't focus on it. I now have my second permit, and it's getting close to expiring.
I'm not sure if I should feel bad for getting it then not focusing on it... twice. I need to drive but, I dont know why.
What should I tell myself? If I do need to wait to get my license, what then? Should I panic about losingall the stuff I did already for it? (I finished Drivers Ed and most of everything I need to do)

Thinning the heard. Five items for sale. PayPal G&S. First owner on all these.
Pictures and timestamp here: https://imgur.com/a/FJNDh4e

1. Urban EDC F5.5 od green micarta. Factory edge. Perfect action and centered. Rarely used. Comes with original soft taco case and box. SV: $175
   
2. Kizer Drop Bear black aluminum and satin. Solid hair splitting edge. No box/case. This Drop Bear sadly got dropped on the sidewalk. Some dings near the pivots. See pics. Perfect action and locking mechanism. $OLD for $65
   
3. JHO #22. Beautiful knife. Rarely used or carried. Excellent condition. I think he is no longer producing these. Not super motivated to sell this one. SV: $225
   
4. Boker Plus Damascus Gent II. Brand new in box. SV: $80
   
5. Big Idea Ti EDS II bit driver. Retail for $120. Will include a Wiha hex T8 and T^ bit. Unused + brand new in box. I just never found a use or need to carry this. SV: $90
   

YOLO trumps chat. OBO. Deals on bundles for sure. $485 takes the remaining items.

1978
Warren Beatty as Moses
Terence Stamp as Rameses
Jane Fonda as Tzipporah
Joanna Cassidy as Miriam
Donald Sutherland as Aaron
Sidney Poitier as Jethro
Donald Pleasence as Pharaoh Seti
Angela Lansbury as Queen Tuya
Dick Van Dyke as Hotep
Gene Wilder as Huy
Director: Ralph Bakshi
​
1988
Kurt Russell as Moses
Pierce Brosnan as Rameses
Jessica Lange as Tzipporah
Geena Davis as Miriam
Christopher Walken as Aaron
Morgan Freeman as Jethro
Sean Connery as Pharaoh Seti
Julie Andrews as Queen Tuya
Gene Wilder as Hotep
Billy Crystal as Huy
Director: Don Bluth
​
1998
Alec Baldwin as Moses
Kenneth Branagh as Rameses
Sharon Stone as Tzipporah
Demi Moore as Miriam
Michael Keaton as Aaron
Samuel L. Jackson as Jethro
Terence Stamp as Pharaoh Seti
Julie Christie as Queen Tuya
Chevy Chase as Hotep
Robin Williams as Huy
Director: Brenda Chapman, Steve Hickner and Simon Wells
​
2008
James Marsden as Moses
Ewan McGregor as Rameses
Laura Dern as Tzipporah
Hilary Swank as Miriam
Robert Downey Jr. as Aaron
Denzel Washington as Jethro
Jeremy Irons as Pharaoh Seti
Emma Thompson as Queen Tuya
Bill Murray as Hotep
Steve Carell as Huy
Director: Chris Sanders
​
2018
Chris Evans as Moses
Charlie Cox as Rameses
Rachel McAdams as Tzipporah
Anna Kendrick as Miriam
Patrick Wilson as Aaron
Jeffrey Wright as Jethro
Kenneth Branagh as Pharaoh Seti
Elizabeth Hurley as Queen Tuya
John C. Reilly as Hotep
Simon Pegg as Huy
Director: Dean DeBlois
​
2028
Austin Butler as Moses
Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Rameses
Margot Robbie as Tzipporah
Hailee Steinfeld as Miriam
Adam Driver as Aaron
Idris Elba as Jethro
Daniel Craig as Pharaoh Seti
Kate Winslet as Queen Tuya
Jimmy Fallon as Hotep
Seth Rogen as Huy
Director: Walt Dohrn
View Poll

1
I live in a suburb surrounded by forest. My house is in a row of other properties built next to a tree line. The neighborhood was always quiet. The sounds of crickets, birds, and sight of black bears were routine on most summer days.
The scenic area was something I was always grateful for. I lived completely alone since the death of my parents. An accidental fire took both of their lives. Once I collected my inheritance, I relocated to a much more peaceful region. I had always fantasized about moving there.
I tried to start a relationship with Samantha. I had gone to High School with her sixteen years before. She had gone on to become a respected Detective. My attempt at something long lasting with her failed. She was too career oriented. I was reeling from grief. Focusing on building something meaningful with her was a pipe dream.
Things around my community changed once the Murphy family went missing.
The first sign that something was off on that Wednesday was how their blinds had closed. Their silver Chrysler remained parked in the driveway.
A tennis instructor at the country club noticed the wife of that house did not show up for the program. He called their number to make sure everything was alright. When no one responded, he notified the authorities. Rumors abounded immediately among the home owners association about an alleged affair. The gossip only furthered when the married couple and their three kids were not found in the abode.
I watched from my balcony as the patrolmen roped the place off with caution tape. The domicile was a three story building with brick chimney’s and a few peaked roofs in the style of English towers. They were beige, light blue and crimson.
On the morning of the Murphy’s desertion of society, the architecture became a hollow image. It was one that was once filled with activity and life.
The law did what they could. Any success they may have had in the investigation was secret. A few months passed by and they removed the caution tape.
I followed the on-line police logs. The weather was pristine and clear the day they vanished. The fact that there were no witnesses to what direction they may have gone disturbed me.
I had heard how the man, Frank Murphy, had a bit of a temper and always had a bourbon in hand. I had heard mutual friends describe him as an alcoholic in denial of his servitude to liquor. He was an indignant individual who knew no true repercussions for his behavior. He always had bail money from a software company he founded and sold a long time ago.
I was never close to that family, but I peered out at their vacant house far more than I ever had. I was in need of an answer. What could have happened?
2
I called Samantha one evening as I sat on my bed, wondering how she would respond to my reaching out. We were never argumentative or on bad terms. I still worried about her reaction, and hoped it would not be a dismissive one.
I heard her say hello. Her voice still impressed me. I had almost forgotten how silky her tone was. I knew it could change to a much firmer pitch when she was interviewing a suspect.
“Hi, Sam. I’d like to know if you’d be free tomorrow for a cup of coffee. We can go to that place, The Bean Field, off Pond road. It’s been a while and I know you have a lot to tell me about what’s new in your life.”
There was a pause on the other end, and for a second a bout of anxiety hit me. I judged my own words as robotic, stilted, and sure to push her away. I reasoned she was summoning an excuse to get out of having to interact with me. How dare I presume she would even entertain the notion of having a meeting.
“That sounds great,” she said. “Tomorrow is my day off, luckily for you. I’m in the middle of an incident right now. It’s a five car pile-up about forty minutes from where you live. I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When she hung up, I was triumphant. I looked at our old text conversations. I realized we had not been in communication with each other for over twelve months. Now was my opportunity to reconcile that gap of unintended avoidance. I knew it would be an undeserved opportunity.
3
I sat outside of the cafe the next morning at a black metal table. I had a view of rolling hills dotted with trees. A highway with multitudinous shrubberies sat on either side of it. I sipped a piccolo latte while waiting for her.
When she arrived and stepped out of her hatchback in the parking lot, her appearance floored me. She had not dressed up for our supposed date, but that did not make a difference. She had arrived from the gym and wore shorts and a top set. She donned a gray and green hoodie.
She sat across from me and reached for the menu.
“Can you go to the front and order me avocado toast?” Samantha asked. “I’ll also take a mocha with a few shots of espresso. Please.”
I did exactly that. When I returned with her items, she apologized for consuming her meal in less than two minutes.
“I hadn’t eaten since five PM yesterday,” she said between sips.
“I understand,” I said. “I doubt you ever have a consistent schedule anymore.”
“You’re right, but that’s why I have to enjoy my free time when I can.”
We settled into talking about what had happened since we last saw each other. I referenced my trying to learn another language (French) with the hopes of moving to Europe or Canada.
After fifteen minutes of small talk, I asked her about work, but I did so with caution. It started with me wondering about what the call she was on when we were on the phone was about.
“A drunk driver blew a stop sign and hit two other vehicles,” she said. “It was ugly. A few people died. We’ll see if the man in silk pajamas gives him the proper sentence or a traffic citation.”
“You know, I’m curious about what happened to the Murphy’s, if they’re hurt or not.”
“You and everyone else,” she said. “We’ve been getting so many witness accounts, and so far they’ve all been bogus. All I know is what I saw when I got there.”
“I didn’t know you were one of the responders,” I said.
“Yeah. Something about the place was off from the moment I walked in. I found heavy items in placed they should not have been in. The toolbox was not in the garage but on the second story. A disassembled snowblower lay scattered everywhere in pieces. The oven door was on their bed. Frank Murphy was not the strongest guy in the world, either. For him to cause the kind of property damage I saw doesn’t make a lot of sense. At the risk of sounding crazy, inexplicable things happened when I was there.”
“Like what?”
“I was under the impression that something was playing a trick on me. Electrical outlets sparked a few times out of nowhere. The ceiling fan would go from still to spinning when I looked up at it. Books would fall off of the shelves. A volume on black magic, of all things, almost hit the top of my head when I walked on by. Another book about fairies collapsed with it.”
“So the home intruder set up a bunch of weird diversions,” I said. “I’ve heard of that before. These killers or kidnappers want the victims to think there was more than one of them. It’s so their account’s disputed in court.”
I’ll tell you right now,” she said, “we didn’t find any outside DNA.”
“So it’s a case of family annihilation,” I said as I took a long swig of my beverage. “I don’t know if you can substantiate the facts, but a few people have said that Emily had a big life insurance policy. Frank knew about. He may have been using steroids and having an affair, and that could have contributed to-“
It occurred to me that she eyed me with suspicion, as though I was digging too deep. I could also tell she regretted letting information about the forensic results slip.
She stood up and stared at me with a flash of anger in her eyes.
“I thought you wanted to piece something back together with me,” she said. “I didn’t know you wanted to play armchair investigator like every true crime fan. You know, your parents were kind. I wish you’d follow their example. I’ll let you get the bill.”
She walked back to her vehicle and I knew it would be a while before we conversed again.
Later that night, I stared out my window at the Murphy home. I saw a star shoot across the sky, and it almost seemed ready to plummet into the side of their house.
4
The next evening, I took a walk around the suburb. I spotted a thin line of dried red fluid along a path which led into the woods.
I was attempting to get in some movement to get my mind off of the events of the day before. Negativity and self-deprecation were all-consuming. I felt the need for a long saunter to try and release some of the meandering and pessimistic energy I accrued.
When I saw the carmine ribbon along the dark soil, a sense of worry filled me. I was not that far removed from a cul-de-sac with palatial manors a block away. There was no way I could speculate on me being the first to see it.
Could it be a hint where they are? I thought.
The notion seemed absurd, a reach.
I had read in the local newspaper that there was an uptick in bobcat sightings due to recent wildfires. The animals relocated during prior summers. I reasoned it could have been a house pet which became a victim after it got snatched away into the overgrowth.
I followed it, and the uneven road of red stretched on past many bushes and over logs. A shrill chirping in the background became louder. I moved between two conifers with petrified wood and found myself in a part of the forest I had never been in.
There were so many branches that it blacked out the falling sun. Ahead of me was a clearing. A swarm of gnats and mosquitos descended upon it. The sea of insects soared together in chaotic unison as a wave among the sedges and lichen.
I looked towards the right of the meadow and saw a ramshackle tree house. I trailed the red line towards it. I peered in through one of the windows and saw a statue of a woman with wings. I knew she was not an angel. There was no halo, nor were her organs of flight feathery, but rather they were thin and bat-like.
I entered the place knowing the danger I was putting myself in. I had tracked mud in and was oblivious to the incriminating actions I partook in. I was trespassing and risking stumbling into whoever may have owned the land. My curiosity got the better of me and caused me to keep moving forward.
The room was sparse but decorated. The walls had carvings of men and women, also with wings. Their bodies held yogic-like positions as they reached out to one another mid-air.
A piece of parchment with a few words sat in the corner. I picked it up and read it:
‘Humans are the greatest living beings to play tricks on. Especially when they go through a time of drought and extreme cold.’
I sat it down where I found it, unsure of what to make of it.
I touched the central figure’s neck. The chiseling was not only cold, but below freezing, as though I had submerged my hand in a polar pool.
The noise of some kind of bird attempting to escape a confined space reverberated below me.
Something brushed against my leg. I looked down and saw an army of glow bugs float up between the cracks, and they circled around me. They were like dragon flies. At the time I had labeled them as such, but in reality their shapes were far too humanoid.
I walked back home. I went to bed and slept. I was still perturbed at the wine-colored avenue and cabin.
I awoke in the middle of the night after something tapped at my walls from the outside. I peered out and saw the Murphy home, and observed how the blinds over their casements were wide open. A hive of mites filled every inch of the interior.
5
I found the decomposing body of a chipmunk stuffed into the tailpipe of my vehicle the next day.
This horrified me, because the deliberation of the act was too evident to ignore. While I did have a surveillance camera on my porch, the coverage of my vehicle was non-existent. I calmed myself down by thinking it was likely a tempestuous child. I retrieved a pair of medical gloves and disposed of the creature before going on with the errand. The rotting body had a horrible smell. It was like an onion left out in humidity for days, and my stomach turned as I sealed it off in the garbage with the lid.
The next morning, I looked in my closet. Some of my favorite shirts had disintegrated. Holes and patches of destroyed fabric littered them. I found it odd, and even searched on-line for possible answers before I decided it had to be a moth infestation. I sprayed lavender. Information on a website statEd that was a cure-all, but the problem persisted. It bothered me that I had not seen a single aphid, but I pushed that concern away.
A few days afterward, when I had tossed my disheveled pieces of attire, the power in my house went out. This was not such an unusual occurrence during the heavy winter months. For it to occur in the summer was strange.
It was a rolling blackout. Once my house had electricity again, I noticed how someone moved items around.
Something turned my kitchen table on its side and stuffed into a part of the kitchen I would have never placed it in.
I grabbed a butcher knife and did a sweep of the premises, and I did not find anything. There were no footprints or signs of anything else tampered with. When I got to the second story, birds nested along the tree tops, and the repugnant odor of fish attacked me.
My allergies became insufferable over the next month. Nothing purchased over the counter which helped it.
6
I went to the beach on an overcast day. After roughly half a mile of walking, I saw an illustration someone had drawn in the sand with a stick. It was of a being with airfoils.
A light precipitation had fallen earlier. As I trailed along the former part of the sand, a glint in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked out at the water and saw what appeared to be a light blue outline of wings beneath the surface.
A phosphorescent wall of creatures surrounded me.
As the days march on, I know I am stalked by something I cannot rebel against, let alone have any agency or autonomy over. My pillowcases have shredded, the pipes in my basement have burst, and someone left me a gift at my front door. When I opened it, I saw mice scurry away. It was a book, and it was one about the history of fairies.
I picked it up and had to blow the dust off of it. Someone had stolen it from a musty subterranean chamber and brought it here.
I theorized that it was Samantha, passive aggressive with her disappointment in me. Yet I flip through its pages and find it all too familiar. I cannot help but wonder if this is a sign of something far more dangerous.

I live in a suburb surrounded by forest. My house is in a row of other properties built next to a tree line. The neighborhood was always quiet. The sounds of crickets, birds, and sight of black bears were routine on most summer days.
The scenic area was something I was always grateful for. I lived completely alone since the death of my parents. An accidental fire took both of their lives. Once I collected my inheritance, I relocated to a much more peaceful region. I had always fantasized about moving there.
I tried to start a relationship with Samantha. I had gone to High School with her sixteen years before. She had gone on to become a respected Detective. My attempt at something long lasting with her failed. She was too career oriented. I was reeling from grief. Focusing on building something meaningful with her was a pipe dream.
Things around my community changed once the Murphy family went missing.
The first sign that something was off on that Wednesday was how their blinds had closed. Their silver Chrysler remained parked in the driveway.
A tennis instructor at the country club noticed the wife of that house did not show up for the program. He called their number to make sure everything was alright. When no one responded, he notified the authorities. Rumors abounded immediately among the home owners association about an alleged affair. The gossip only furthered when the married couple and their three kids were not found in the abode.
I watched from my balcony as the patrolmen roped the place off with caution tape. The domicile was a three story building with brick chimney’s and a few peaked roofs in the style of English towers. They were beige, light blue and crimson.
On the morning of the Murphy’s desertion of society, the architecture became a hollow image. It was one that was once filled with activity and life.
The law did what they could. Any success they may have had in the investigation was secret. A few months passed by and they removed the caution tape.
I followed the on-line police logs. The weather was pristine and clear the day they vanished. The fact that there were no witnesses to what direction they may have gone disturbed me.
I had heard how the man, Frank Murphy, had a bit of a temper and always had a bourbon in hand. I had heard mutual friends describe him as an alcoholic in denial of his servitude to liquor. He was an indignant individual who knew no true repercussions for his behavior. He always had bail money from a software company he founded and sold a long time ago.
I was never close to that family, but I peered out at their vacant house far more than I ever had. I was in need of an answer. What could have happened?
*
I called Samantha one evening as I sat on my bed, wondering how she would respond to my reaching out. We were never argumentative or on bad terms. I still worried about her reaction, and hoped it would not be a dismissive one.
I heard her say hello. Her voice still impressed me. I had almost forgotten how silky her tone was. I knew it could change to a much firmer pitch when she was interviewing a suspect.
“Hi, Sam. I’d like to know if you’d be free tomorrow for a cup of coffee. We can go to that place, The Bean Field, off Pond road. It’s been a while and I know you have a lot to tell me about what’s new in your life.”
There was a pause on the other end, and for a second a bout of anxiety hit me. I judged my own words as robotic, stilted, and sure to push her away. I reasoned she was summoning an excuse to get out of having to interact with me. How dare I presume she would even entertain the notion of having a meeting.
“That sounds great,” she said. “Tomorrow is my day off, luckily for you. I’m in the middle of an incident right now. It’s a five car pile-up about forty minutes from where you live. I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When she hung up, I was triumphant. I looked at our old text conversations. I realized we had not been in communication with each other for over twelve months. Now was my opportunity to reconcile that gap of unintended avoidance. I knew it would be an undeserved opportunity.
*
I sat outside of the cafe the next morning at a black metal table. I had a view of rolling hills dotted with trees. A highway with multitudinous shrubberies sat on either side of it. I sipped a piccolo latte while waiting for her.
When she arrived and stepped out of her hatchback in the parking lot, her appearance floored me. She had not dressed up for our supposed date, but that did not make a difference. She had arrived from the gym and wore shorts and a top set. She donned a gray and green hoodie.
She sat across from me and reached for the menu.
“Can you go to the front and order me avocado toast?” Samantha asked. “I’ll also take a mocha with a few shots of espresso. Please.”
I did exactly that. When I returned with her items, she apologized for consuming her meal in less than two minutes.
“I hadn’t eaten since five PM yesterday,” she said between sips.
“I understand,” I said. “I doubt you ever have a consistent schedule anymore.”
“You’re right, but that’s why I have to enjoy my free time when I can.”
We settled into talking about what had happened since we last saw each other. I referenced my trying to learn another language (French) with the hopes of moving to Europe or Canada.
After fifteen minutes of small talk, I asked her about work, but I did so with caution. It started with me wondering about what the call she was on when we were on the phone was about.
“A drunk driver blew a stop sign and hit two other vehicles,” she said. “It was ugly. A few people died. We’ll see if the man in silk pajamas gives him the proper sentence or a traffic citation.”
“You know, I’m curious about what happened to the Murphy’s, if they’re hurt or not.”
“You and everyone else,” she said. “We’ve been getting so many witness accounts, and so far they’ve all been bogus. All I know is what I saw when I got there.”
“I didn’t know you were one of the responders,” I said.
“Yeah. Something about the place was off from the moment I walked in. I found heavy items in placed they should not have been in. The toolbox was not in the garage but on the second story. A disassembled snowblower lay scattered everywhere in pieces. The oven door was on their bed. Frank Murphy was not the strongest guy in the world, either. For him to cause the kind of property damage I saw doesn’t make a lot of sense. At the risk of sounding crazy, inexplicable things happened when I was there.”
“Like what?”
“I was under the impression that something was playing a trick on me. Electrical outlets sparked a few times out of nowhere. The ceiling fan would go from still to spinning when I looked up at it. Books would fall off of the shelves. A volume on black magic, of all things, almost hit the top of my head when I walked on by. Another book about fairies collapsed with it.”
“So the home intruder set up a bunch of weird diversions,” I said. “I’ve heard of that before. These killers or kidnappers want the victims to think there was more than one of them. It’s so their account’s disputed in court.”
I’ll tell you right now,” she said, “we didn’t find any outside DNA.”
“So it’s a case of family annihilation,” I said as I took a long swig of my beverage. “I don’t know if you can substantiate the facts, but a few people have said that Emily had a big life insurance policy. Frank knew about. He may have been using steroids and having an affair, and that could have contributed to-“
It occurred to me that she eyed me with suspicion, as though I was digging too deep. I could also tell she regretted letting information about the forensic results slip.
She stood up and stared at me with a flash of anger in her eyes.
“I thought you wanted to piece something back together with me,” she said. “I didn’t know you wanted to play armchair investigator like every true crime fan. You know, your parents were kind. I wish you’d follow their example. I’ll let you get the bill.”
She walked back to her vehicle and I knew it would be a while before we conversed again.
Later that night, I stared out my window at the Murphy home. I saw a star shoot across the sky, and it almost seemed ready to plummet into the side of their house.
*
The next evening, I took a walk around the suburb. I spotted a thin line of dried red fluid along a path which led into the woods.
I was attempting to get in some movement to get my mind off of the events of the day before. Negativity and self-deprecation were all-consuming. I felt the need for a long saunter to try and release some of the meandering and pessimistic energy I accrued.
When I saw the carmine ribbon along the dark soil, a sense of worry filled me. I was not that far removed from a cul-de-sac with palatial manors a block away. There was no way I could speculate on me being the first to see it.
Could it be a hint where they are? I thought.
The notion seemed absurd, a reach.
I had read in the local newspaper that there was an uptick in bobcat sightings due to recent wildfires. The animals relocated during prior summers. I reasoned it could have been a house pet which became a victim after it got snatched away into the overgrowth.
I followed it, and the uneven road of red stretched on past many bushes and over logs. A shrill chirping in the background became louder. I moved between two conifers with petrified wood and found myself in a part of the forest I had never been in.
There were so many branches that it blacked out the falling sun. Ahead of me was a clearing. A swarm of gnats and mosquitos descended upon it. The sea of insects soared together in chaotic unison as a wave among the sedges and lichen.
I looked towards the right of the meadow and saw a ramshackle tree house. I trailed the red line towards it. I peered in through one of the windows and saw a statue of a woman with wings. I knew she was not an angel. There was no halo, nor were her organs of flight feathery, but rather they were thin and bat-like.
I entered the place knowing the danger I was putting myself in. I had tracked mud in and was oblivious to the incriminating actions I partook in. I was trespassing and risking stumbling into whoever may have owned the land. My curiosity got the better of me and caused me to keep moving forward.
The room was sparse but decorated. The walls had carvings of men and women, also with wings. Their bodies held yogic-like positions as they reached out to one another mid-air.
A piece of parchment with a few words sat in the corner. I picked it up and read it:
‘Humans are the greatest living beings to play tricks on. Especially when they go through a time of drought and extreme cold.’
I sat it down where I found it, unsure of what to make of it.
I touched the central figure’s neck. The chiseling was not only cold, but below freezing, as though I had submerged my hand in a polar pool.
The noise of some kind of bird attempting to escape a confined space reverberated below me.
Something brushed against my leg. I looked down and saw an army of glow bugs float up between the cracks, and they circled around me. They were like dragon flies. At the time I had labeled them as such, but in reality their shapes were far too humanoid.
I walked back home. I went to bed and slept. I was still perturbed at the wine-colored avenue and cabin.
I awoke in the middle of the night after something tapped at my walls from the outside. I peered out and saw the Murphy home, and observed how the blinds over their casements were wide open. A hive of mites filled every inch of the interior.
*
I found the decomposing body of a chipmunk stuffed into the tailpipe of my vehicle the next day.
This horrified me, because the deliberation of the act was too evident to ignore. While I did have a surveillance camera on my porch, the coverage of my vehicle was non-existent. I calmed myself down by thinking it was likely a tempestuous child. I retrieved a pair of medical gloves and disposed of the creature before going on with the errand. The rotting body had a horrible smell. It was like an onion left out in humidity for days, and my stomach turned as I sealed it off in the garbage with the lid.
The next morning, I looked in my closet. Some of my favorite shirts had disintegrated. Holes and patches of destroyed fabric littered them. I found it odd, and even searched on-line for possible answers before I decided it had to be a moth infestation. I sprayed lavender. Information on a website statEd that was a cure-all, but the problem persisted. It bothered me that I had not seen a single aphid, but I pushed that concern away.
A few days afterward, when I had tossed my disheveled pieces of attire, the power in my house went out. This was not such an unusual occurrence during the heavy winter months. For it to occur in the summer was strange.
It was a rolling blackout. Once my house had electricity again, I noticed how someone moved items around.
Something turned my kitchen table on its side and stuffed into a part of the kitchen I would have never placed it in.
I grabbed a butcher knife and did a sweep of the premises, and I did not find anything. There were no footprints or signs of anything else tampered with. When I got to the second story, birds nested along the tree tops, and the repugnant odor of fish attacked me.
My allergies became insufferable over the next month. Nothing purchased over the counter which helped it.
*
I went to the beach on an overcast day. After roughly half a mile of walking, I saw an illustration someone had drawn in the sand with a stick. It was of a being with airfoils.
A light precipitation had fallen earlier. As I trailed along the former part of the sand, a glint in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked out at the water and saw what appeared to be a light blue outline of wings beneath the surface.
A phosphorescent wall of creatures surrounded me.
As the days march on, I know I am stalked by something I cannot rebel against, let alone have any agency or autonomy over. My pillowcases have shredded, the pipes in my basement have burst, and someone left me a gift at my front door. When I opened it, I saw mice scurry away. It was a book, and it was one about the history of fairies.
I picked it up and had to blow the dust off of it. Someone had stolen it from a musty subterranean chamber and brought it here.
I theorized that it was Samantha, passive aggressive with her disappointment in me. Yet I flip through its pages and find it all too familiar. I cannot help but wonder if this is a sign of something far more dangerous.

For context I live in Ontario. We have a written test which is G1, then you have to take drivers ed, then roughly eight months later you can take G2. That allows you to drive alone with certain restrictions, then G which is fully licensed.
Well the other day I got the notice that my G2 license will be expiring in the fall and it sprawled me into an anxiety attack. Im not a good driver. I’ll be the first to admit that. The G test has you drive on the highway. I drove on the highway once five years ago for less then two minutes. I haven’t practiced as much as most people usually do. I was reliant on my parents busy schedule and my parents were super hesitant to take me on the road. Plus there was a time I lived on my own for 4 months and walked everywhere so I didn’t drive at all in that time gap. Now I’m trying to cram as much practice in as possible since I have a time gap.
That’s my question. Is it’s really terrible to be still learning at this stage of the game? I’ve forgotten a lot of drivers ed stuff like parallel parking and three point turns. The thing where the light goes green and you move into the intersection and wait for oncoming traffic to proceed? Extreme chaos and anxiety-some. Why? Why isn’t there a correct order to things? How do you know when to “yield”? How are you not worrying about getting rear ended? Plus I still struggle with staying in the same lane, parking (how the fuck do you know you’re not going to hit the car in front of you?!), and knowing which lane to turn and not when driving. Sometimes there’s like eight different lanes.
In another subreddit a bunch of people said I should just quit driving. But I need to drive. Maybe I’m just looking for words of encouragement? Is it the worst thing in the world to still be learning at this stage in the game? How long did it take you guys to finally be good at driving?