New paltz haunted house

i'm new to reddit/this subreddit so i apologize if i'm not posting this correctly but here's my story.
i don't remember the first time it happened but i was in kindergarten so somewhere between the ages of 4-6, it was by one of my close friends' older brother. he did it many times including on the school bus, the woods behind the neighborhood playground and his house when i would come over to have a playdate with his sister. he did it to both myself and my best friend (not his sister), neither of us understood what was happening, we were just kids, he said it was a secret game. years later my best friend and i would talk, even joke about it because we didn't realize it was sexual assault. it wasn't until my sophomore year of high school (i would have been 14/15) when i broke down crying during lunch after making a joke about it to my friends. i still didn't realize it was assault until i told my mom about it later that night and she broke down sobbing, apologizing for not knowing and not keeping me safe.
the next time was the summer before going to college, a guy i graduated with offered to buy me and my coworker alcohol, we agreed, so myself, my coworker, the guy and one of his friends came to my house. we drank, talked, watched a movie and he kept giving me drinks to the point where i was so drunk i had to him walk me to my bed because i couldn't stand up without the room spinning and wanting to vomit. he started kissing me, then he took my clothes off so i was just in my bra and underwear, i eventually blacked out and woke up to him throwing a tshirt and my underwear at me so i could say bye to the other two, i don't remember getting naked or getting the bruises and hickeys around my neck, chest and breasts. i don't want to remember.
two months later, some friends and i go to my house for the weekend. our college canceled classes monday so we had an extra day, i was in a situationship with one of the guys, all we had done until that point was steamy makeout sessions, but that first night we're in my room, we're both slightly drunk and making out suddenly i can't breathe, it's not the guy i've been seeing from college with me it's the guy from high school, from the night i don't want to remember. he's taking my shirt off and i have a panic attack, he gets the two girls of the group to help calm me down and leaves the room, he apologizes and is so kind and sweet to me for the rest of the weekend (except for the next night when he drunkenly yells at me telling me he doesn't care about any of my interests or anything i talk about and just wants to "fuck me already"). once we're back at school i ask him if we can take a break from anything sexual, he breaks up with me and says that's all he wants from me and if i can't give him that then what was i good for. him and i go back and forth, on again off again for the rest of the semester because i truly liked him and if he wanted sex from me, no matter how uncomfortable i was or how much i didn't want to, i would do it. i just wanted him to like me, to want me.
ten months later, it's the summer, a year since the night i don't want to remember and a few months since the last time i was with the guy from college. i tried to have sex, not from being forced, pressured, coerced or unconscious. it's with my friend, he got me away from the guy and the night i don't want to remember, i trust him but right before i panic, i can't do it, i wanted to, but i just couldn't. he wasn't upset, he didn't make me feel bad or tell me that's all i'm good for. he said it's okay not to be ready and i shouldn't force myself to do something just because someone else wants it.
less than a year later, i went to two of my friend's joint birthday parties. i know some people, i meet the rest i don't, i think i made a new friend, him and i joked all throughout the night, i was so excited to make some new friends. the party is coming to an end, i was kinda drunk so my friend said i could sleep on the couch, there are three people already passed out so i grab a pillow and lay on the floor. he lays down next to me, i'm tired, i'm drunk, i just want to go to sleep. he pulls me over to cuddle, i don't mind, i like physical affection with my friends. he asks if i'm awake, i don't answer, i just want to sleep, he starts kissing me, i freeze i don't want this i want to sleep, i just wanted to make a friend. he goes further, i can't move i want him to stop but i can't move. people walk into the room he pushes off me and pretends to sleep just like i had been, i still can't move i'm so scared and hurt, i don't want to know how far he would have gone if they didn't walk in. they leave, a few moments after he leaves, i still can't move, eventually i drive home, i throw away the shirt i bought for the party, i lay in bed but i can't sleep now.

Has anyone experienced an abusive parent sympathize with/for another abuser (more likely as another form of abuse)?
I am a 28 F, & I don’t want to go into too much detail but I went through quite a tumultuous childhood due to a mother who is undoubtedly a narcissist w/ OCD (amongst other things). And the reason I exemplify that is because I believe I’ve experienced some pretty intense gaslighting and manipulation from my parent, which I’m slowly now just beginning to work through.
Anyways, I was in a situationship with a guy who was 10 years older than me for around almost 4 years. It was honestly the worst relationship I could have ever experienced. For 3.5 years I dealt with consistent ghosting - he would hit me up when he wanted, and then would ghost me for 2-3 weeks straight and always pop up again with some indirect weird excuses, he’d constantly ditch me, blow me off, hid me from family and friends, always hit on other women in front of me, would make fun of me; and I didn’t realize until after I went no contact for good, that I probably experienced some form of emotional abuse. I dealt with the aforementioned plus much more, but near the end of the “relationship” he started mirroring me. He started watching my favorite shows that he would never watch with me in the past because he didn’t like it, he started participating in the same activities that I liked and would brag about it and try getting me to do with him, and his demeanor changing was just weird. He then invited me to a wedding he was in, which I met some of his family and friends for the first time after 3.5 years of “dating” of which his mother never even knew of me, and at the wedding he completely blew me off the first half of it and I caught him hanging out with one of the bridesmaids. He’s also birthday baited me 3 years in a row- canceling the day of birthday plans and then the last two birthdays pretending he didn’t know it was my birthday but texting me all day as if it was just a normal day and nothing special was going on.
After that, I started to finally understand that he is probably a narcissist himself. I started slowly pulling away, trying to figure out how I was going to get out of this. Because the last 6 months he immediately must of decided he “liked” me and started coming on really strong.
After 3.5 years of going through this daily/weekly, ( and many times of which I had expressed the confusion of his behavior and our relationship and still dealing with the deceit because I just thought I was the issue and he needed to be understood, and I couldn’t tell if I could trust myself or not ( which I’m sure is normal with those with CPTSD)) I went no contact.
Now, over the last 6 months, this dude is harassing me!!! He first texted me off of his sons phone making up all of these lies saying he doesn’t know why I stopped talking to him and he thought we were going to build a life together and sh*t, and I didn’t respond. I got a new phone and number a month after that for other reasons and he somehow knows I got a new number. 2 months later he shows up at my parents house with a Christmas gift and some photos, which I have no idea how he remembered where they live since he’s barely ever been there, trying to talk to my little brother who was home at that time asking about me (which he’s never cared to meet my family the entire time so that pissed me right off to find out ) ; about a month later he somehow finds my best friend on FB and messages her (which he NEVER met her the entire time I “dated him” so I have no idea how he found her on FB, and then a few days ago he somehow has my parents address and sent me a letter. Luckily he has no idea where I live now.
I had my mom read the letter and he sent two new pictures of a dog he got, & talking about how he’s not going to stop trying to get me back and how he loves me and wants to have a life with me & all this disturbing stuff.
So, the first time he showed up at my parents house and dropped off a gift I told my parents to throw away the gift and not let him back on their property. My mom responds with “Be kind.” And then I tell her throw away the gift and she says she just can’t do that.
This time around, I had to BEG her to read the letter to me & she “just couldn’t do that.” And then while reading the letter she’s laughing and saying how he just loves me. And then this morning I wake up to a text from her and she literally sent me a picture of the pictures of the dog he sent with the letter and she texted the name of the dog too. Like wtf????
I am coming to my mother out of straight fear because this dude is starting to harass me as well as involving my family and friends and my mom tells me to “be kind, he just loves you,” & is sending me pictures of his new dog.
I feel so fucking crazy. She makes me feel crazy. This dude has done nothing but make me feel crazy, and it’s like my mother is invalidating my feelings and experience so bad that I start to question the extent of my reactions.
I’ve tried so hard to make it work with my mom but I had to block her. I can’t do it anymore. This relationship with her is still not good for me.
I just really need to vent because I just can’t understand why a parent could want to do this to their child. I literally cannot understand why she is doing this to me. Why she doesn’t have my back. It’s so sickening to me and I feel so crazy. I feel like I have no safe place in this world.

So I ordered my mom lunch one day. She lives in a small town like 2 hours away from me. Well the driver threw her food on the porch instead of just placing it down and knocking like I asked. There’s even a ring video of it. My mom called out the driver for it. Apparently the driver took offense to it and reported my account for some reason and now it’s deactivated.
I have tried reaching out to support to tell them it wasn’t even my house that the food was being delivered to. My mom has tried to reach out and show them the video and still nothing. They just say they will have a specialist look into it and they give me the same automated message every time saying that due to terms and conditions that were violated, my account was deactivated. They also say they can’t tell me the specific terms that were violated either.
I try to make a new account, and I still can’t order. My fiancé can’t even use it either because her card was on my account and they flag her now. Is there anything at all I can do to try and get it back?

My partner and I just moved into a new build in DC. It used to be an empty lot, according to neighbors the lot was used as mostly-illegal parking. Neighbors behind the house are regularly loud (one guy in particular tows a boom box in a little cart and walks around our house). There was a murder of some squatters in the same neighboring house just prior to us moving in and some of the other renters (?) have been looking in our garage and throwing trash in our parking space. We’ve also seen them pissing openly in a bucket in their yard behind ours. From talking to other neighbors, it seems like drugs may be being dealt (and previously these may have used where our home is as parking) - I don’t want to overreact since that may all be hearsay - but we have cameras up and have seen a lot of people showing up at all hours for like 5 minutes before leaving, including parking in our space at 1 in the morning, which is a classic indicator (I think?).
All of this is pretty disconcerting but what would be the right thing to do here? Cops might be an option but also don’t want to incur any comeback, so thinking the rental housing authority? Suck it up and don’t antagonize? Any advice welcome.

I (F20) have moved to a new place thanks to my mom (F43) convincing me to. We are living with my great-grandmother and it's been almost a year now. e live in a small village and I don't drive so I relied heavily on my mom to drive me if I wanted to go somewhere that wasn't within walking distance. Almost a month ago, there was a big argument with my great-grandmother who made a racist comment which I did not agree with. This resulted in me staying with a new friend for a bit. When I came back, my mother accused me of drug use; I don't do drugs. I've had a puff here and there from weed and I rarely drink any alcohol. I don't party, I pretty much am a hermit. My mother had said that I need to be aware of the drugs I may be around in which I responded with "no I do not. If others are getting into drugs, it is not my business to be asking about it. It makes it look like I'm interested and I am not." She blew up at me and told me that she "cannot keep an eye on me 24/7". I then responded with "you don't have to, I'm 20 years old, I am capable of looking out for myself." This was the line that completely threw her off her rockers. She said that if I'm such an adult and if I get arrested for hanging around druggies to not bother calling her because she could care less. That as an adult I should "figure it out". My mom, needless to say, has never been a good mom. She neglected me and my siblings growing up to chase a sugar daddy who wasn't really a sugar daddy but a drug dealer. Now I don't know if he got her into it or if it was already something she was doing before she met him (she was a stripper before I was born so it wouldn't surprise me if she was into drugs during that time). All I know is that he encouraged her to get into it more heavily. I grew up never seeing the drugs but I saw the effects. The fighting, the forgetfulness, the fatigue. From a young age, I told myself to stay away from drugs in fear I'd end up like my mom. There's no way in hell I'd ever do drugs, I saw how it made her. Eventually, my siblings and I were placed into foster homes. I was 8 at the time. I was in and out of foster homes, group homes, and even at one point went back to live with my mom. I had attempted which landed me back in my group home. My mom couldn't care less and said I only attempted for attention. I struggled with self-harm from when I was 12, always wearing long sleeves and big baggie sweaters. I was embarrassed. Still, my mom said nothing about it and pretended to act as though she didn't see. A big incident at 17 where I was assaulted by a boy in a group home and was kicked out for it, it had seemed to bring us closer. She was on my side and acted as though she really cared about me. Almost even comforted me. Finally, I came home when I was 18, I was then again assaulted brutally and had to spend time in the hospital. This was when things started to go downhill. She didn't believe me and thought I had staged it despite my being physically shaken up, bleeding, and bruised/in pain. She had even taken me to the hospital where they treated me and gave me a rape kit basically. She kicked me out a few months later, it was November. Wouldn't let me come back to get a jacket or anything. Just a blanket. I couldn't charge my phone either and it was close to dying. Thankfully a friend and her family let me stay with them. My mom eventually allowed me to come home, and I made plans to leave. I stayed in a housing program but it lasted about half a year as the girls were eating my food, not cleaning up, stealing my stuff, etc etc. They were not doing anything to help me truthfully and my mom started to convince me to go back to live with her. So I did. There were more fights, more having to leave the house over and over and over and over again. My mother is my only support system, I had nowhere to really go. So I told myself to just stick it out. Now back to the present day, I've literally had enough. My mother started spreading a rumour around that I do porn. It's a small village so everyone knows everyone. That could ruin my chances of getting a job. She's aware of this. I tried to talk to her to resolve this issue but she doesn't want to talk. So, like a highschooler, she spreads rumours about me and talks shit. I have no car pretty much, no job for the time being, and no place to go. My grandmother has had enough of my mom's attitude and as a result, wants me to leave as she deems me to be the issue. I don't understand why my mom hates me so much and I think our relationship is irreparable at this point. I've tried, given it my all, I have no more to give to my mother and now I'm not sure what's next. Any advice?

I bought a portable AC on Amazon.ca in 2019, directly from Amazon. It was refurbished but certified "like new". Fast forward to 4 years later, it's not cooling anymore. I used it in my bedroom during heat waves, maybe 2 or 3 nights a week in the summer months.
Lots of people have never heard of it but there's a law in Quebec regarding reasonable lifetime warranty . I know there's a similar law in Ontario. The law states that appliances and electronics should have a reasonable lifetime, regardless of how long the manufacturer or merchant garantee is. In my case, considering how often I used it, I think my AC should still work after 4 years.
The thing is people at Amazon's customer service are located abroad and simply don't care about this law. I mentioned it and the guy I was talking to just said "I don't know Canadian laws" and hung up on me. They keep saying that I have to deal with the manufacturer, but the law clearly states that I don't have to : "You can either undertake this process with the merchant, the manufacturer, or both. A merchant may not require that you deal with the manufacturer."
I will contact the consumer protection office tomorrow but in the meantime I'd like to know if anyone ever had a similar problem with an appliance or electronics purchased on Amazon? What did you do? My next step will probably be to send a formal notice to Amazon because customer service is completely clueless, whether by phone or on the chat.
Thanks in advance for any help you can provide.

I’m 23 and Im having these reoccurring memories of my sister (four years older than me) trying to drown me, suffocate me and lots of unspoken things at the age of about me being 4-12 years old. She has this need for my attention and approval but I’m struggling with feeling I have no empathy for anything she goes through. I think this may because of the horrific things I remember such as I remember her zip tying my fingers, making me drink soap or eat salt. She would take a pillow and put it over my face and sit on it until I was screaming bloody murder. We would fight like normal sisters ( I thought ) we would get into fist fights and she would pull my hair to it falling out. I remember almost drowning on several occasions. She would only let go because I clawed my way out of it everytime. One time me and my friend got tricked into getting locked out of my house for 30 min so her and her friends could enjoy there time without us kids but we were only wearing shorts tank tops and flip flops in the middle of winter with snow and ice on the ground. I remember her showing me porn all the time. There’s a lot of confusion I think it’s time to maybe see a therapist but I’m scared that will not go well. My parents were never around and would have my sister watch me (might be why she showed such force towards me). Till this day it haunts me and she’s very manipulative in a sense she records her self crying to send it to me so she can get every bit of sympathy out of me. I can’t take it anymore but I feel like the bad guy because I don’t feel bad for her. I feel bad in a sense she deals with depression and I understand that but I have this distance I keep from her. I understand she may have been a victim of other types of abuse as well and this may be why things were what they were.
She claims she doesn’t remember trying to drown me and moves on from the conversation fairly quick. These memories are becoming more vivid as I start to get older but I don’t know what to do with them I have a hard time with mental health and making any connections I haven’t made a friend in 7 years. Is this trauma ? Am I overreacting ?

Just wanted to share my CBD journey here.
I am fortunate enough to have it prescribed.
Personally I find it find it helps with mild muscular pain which was initially my main reason for acquiring it but here’s where I seen the real magic… My son (still very young) has always been a balls-to-the-wall insanely hyperactive thrill-seeker and now that he’s in school, it had been noted by many ‘professionals’ that he was a little left of centre and I totally agree ~ we follow the necessary pathways and to my surprise he has been diagnosed with autism.
BUT with the help of CBD, he’s more inclined to try new foods - this has been an uphill battle from about 1.5 years of age, he will not eat anything of colour (even sauce on pizza) putting fruit or vegetable in front of him is a massive offence but best believe I, family members, schools/daycare, etc have tried everything to get him comfortable around foods with no success. You could give him his favourite ice cream but he won’t touch it if it’s been tarnished by fruit or biscuit or even chocolate in an unfamiliar way. Same with bread, rice, pasta, etc. On CBD, he HAPPILY ate a savoury carrot cake and blueberries… you have no idea what a great success that is for us! *plus more since then. These little wins only happen when he’s on CBD. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
Furthermore his teacher has said he’s been more focused at school which landed him his very first merit award this week. Son has had some difficulties in school up until we introduced the CBD… insanely clever for his age but disrupts the learning of others and isn’t particularly good in group settings or with negative results.
In general his behaviour around the home has been more positive, better engaged, less tantrums and not impulsively running in the house or jumping/climbing furniture amongst so many other little things that make my son ‘high needs’
For the record; I give him <1ml of 2000mg full spectrum hemp extract 40mg/ml CBD + <0.3 w/w THC. encouraged once per morning and optional of an evening.
F**king incredible. Highly recommend.

In the heart of the night, a chorus of whispers danced on the wind, a symphony of voices that weren't supposed to be there. The trench was alive with them, a malevolent haunting of our safe haven. I am Private John Harris, and this was the night the war took on a new kind of terror.
We were a young group of soldiers, fresh faces in a battle that had been raging for what seemed like a lifetime. No amount of training could prepare us for the horrors we'd seen, and certainly, none of us were prepared for the horrors that were to come.
Whispers in the night weren't uncommon in the trench, but these were different. They weren't the half-mumbled dreams of a comrade or the hushed reassurances of a letter from home. They were voices of fallen brothers, the young men who'd entered this wasteland with hope in their eyes and left it with nothing but despair in their hearts. Voices that should have been silenced by the finality of death, yet they lingered.
"Billy... Billy, don't leave me," the voice of Thomas, a bright-eyed lad from Liverpool who'd taken a bullet in the first charge, echoed around us. His last words, the desperate plea he'd made to his brother as life slipped away, were now an ever-present part of our lives.
Fear crept into our hearts, as icy and chilling as the winter wind that swept through the trench. Our sanctuary in the midst of chaos had become a haven for the lost souls of our comrades. But there was more to it, a sense of malevolence, a feeling of being watched, hunted.
The apparitions began not long after. At the corner of our eyes, we'd see them, the fallen, wandering aimlessly in the darkness, their eyes hollow, their faces etched with despair. Just as quickly as they appeared, they'd be gone, leaving us questioning our sanity in this nightmare that refused to end.
We were haunted, not by the enemy across no man's land but by a spirit that thrived on our fear, our despair. It played with us, whispering in our ears, showing us things that were too painful to bear.
We tried to ignore it, to convince ourselves that it was just the stress of war playing tricks on our minds. But how could we ignore it when every night we heard the voice of Sergeant Major Davis, screaming for his men to hold the line, the same command he'd issued before a shell had obliterated him? How could we ignore the sight of Private Thompson, his ghostly figure trudging through the mud as though still carrying the message that had cost him his life?
Then came the night that changed everything. The whispers were louder, more insistent. The apparitions clearer, more unsettling. They were no longer just at the corner of our eyes, but standing before us, reaching out with hands that were as real as the cold steel of our rifles.
The spirit was growing stronger, feeding off our fear and despair, becoming more tangible with each passing night. We could feel its cold touch, like a shiver running down our spines, a constant reminder of the dread that now held us captive in our own trench.
Private Miller was the first to break. A boy of eighteen, he had always been the most affected by the whispers, the apparitions. They seemed to torment him more than any of us. That night, as the whispers swelled to a deafening roar, he suddenly stood up, his face pale, his eyes wide with terror.
"Can't you see them?" he screamed, pointing at nothing. "They're here! They're all here!"
His voice cut through the air, silencing the whispers for a brief moment. Then, without warning, he turned and ran. Ran into the night, into no man's land. We heard his screams, echoed by the laughter of the malevolent spirit, before they were silenced by the sound of gunfire.
In the days that followed, the trench grew silent. The whispers had ceased, the apparitions had disappeared. We all felt a strange sense of relief, but also a gnawing guilt. Had our fear, our despair, led to Miller's death? Was the spirit now satisfied? We didn't dare voice these thoughts, didn't dare break the silence that had descended upon us.
But as the days turned into weeks, the silence became unbearable. We could almost hear the ticking of a time bomb, waiting to unleash another wave of horror upon us. And then, it happened.
It was Private Harris who first heard it - a soft whisper, barely audible, but unmistakable. "I'm sorry, lads... I'm sorry..." It was Miller's voice, heavy with guilt and despair. Then came the apparition - a ghostly silhouette in the darkness, aimlessly wandering like the others before him.
The terror that washed over us was unlike anything we'd felt before. This wasn't just the fear of the unknown, of the supernatural. This was personal. We had known Miller, had laughed with him, fought alongside him. And now, he was a part of the haunting, a puppet in the hands of the malevolent spirit that had taken hold of our trench.
We were trapped, caught in a nightmare that offered no escape. There was no end to the war, no end to the haunting. The spirit was relentless, feeding off our fear, our despair. It didn't just want to scare us. It wanted to break us.
And so, we lived in constant fear, in constant anticipation of the next whisper, the next apparition. We didn't sleep. We didn't eat. We merely existed, waiting for the next wave of horror to wash over us. The trench, once our sanctuary, was now our prison.
The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months. We became hollow shells, mere spectators in the theatre of horror that our lives had become. We watched as one by one, our brothers fell prey to the terror, their will to fight, to survive, crushed under the weight of the haunting. Our numbers dwindled, but the spirit, the malevolent force that held us captive, seemed to grow stronger.
Then came the night that I will never forget, the night the spirit showed itself.
The whispers were deafening, the apparitions more tangible than ever. The trench was alive with the spectral echoes of our fallen comrades, their faces twisted in fear and despair. And in the midst of it all, a figure began to take shape.
It was unlike any apparition we'd seen before. It was larger, its form less fleeting. It was solid, real. Its eyes glowed with an eerie light, casting an unholy glow in the darkness. It was the spirit, the entity that had been tormenting us, feeding off our fear.
It moved slowly, deliberately, its gaze fixed on each of us, its eyes reflecting the terror that gripped our hearts. It didn't speak, didn't whisper. It just stood there, watching us, its presence more horrifying than any whisper or apparition.
Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. The whispers ceased, the apparitions faded, leaving us in a terrifying silence. But the fear, the despair, remained. The spirit had shown itself, had made its presence known. There was no denying it now. We were at its mercy.
In the following days, our existence turned even more macabre. Now that we had seen the spirit, its presence was even more tangible, even during the daylight. We could feel its gaze upon us, its cold touch lingering in the air. The whispers returned, the apparitions reappeared, but they were now overshadowed by the looming presence of the spirit.
The nights became unbearable. Sleep was a luxury we could no longer afford. Each closing of our eyes was an invitation to the horrors that awaited in the darkness. We kept our rifles close, not to fight an enemy we could see, but to ward off the unseen terror that stalked us.
Our numbers continued to dwindle. Some fell to the bullets and bombs of war, others to the haunting. The spirit had broken us, reduced us to trembling shadows of the brave soldiers we once were. We were trapped, helpless in the face of an enemy we couldn't fight, couldn't even comprehend.
One night, as I stood guard, the trench felt particularly ominous. The whispers were louder, the apparitions more frequent. I could feel a cold dread settling in my heart. Suddenly, I felt a chill run down my spine. I turned around, and there it was.
The spirit stood at the end of the trench, its eerie light illuminating the darkness. It was closer now, its eyes piercing into my soul. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. The whispers grew louder, the apparitions more tangible, as if they were being drawn to the spirit.
Then, the spirit began to move towards me, its form gliding over the muddy ground. I was paralyzed with fear, my rifle slipping from my trembling hands. As it approached, the whispers grew silent, the apparitions faded. All that remained was the spirit and the horrifying reality of my impending doom.
The spirit stopped inches away from me, its form towering over my own. Its eyes bore into mine, holding me captive. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. I was frozen in the face of the terror that had haunted us, that had claimed the lives of my comrades.
Then, it reached out. A hand, if you could call it that, extended towards me. It was skeletal, ethereal, a ghostly appendage that seemed to be both there and not there. It touched my chest, and I felt a cold like nothing I'd ever experienced. It was as if it was reaching into my very soul.
In that moment, I felt everything. I felt the fear, the despair, the guilt of my fallen comrades. I felt the pain of their deaths, the horror of their hauntings. I felt the spirit's hunger, its insatiable thirst for our fear. But most of all, I felt a profound sadness. A sadness that seemed to emanate from the spirit itself.
Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The coldness receded, the weight lifted. I fell to my knees, gasping for breath. The trench was silent. The whispers had ceased, the apparitions had disappeared. But I knew they would be back. The spirit would be back.
From that night on, I lived in constant terror. I knew that the spirit could reach out to me, could touch me. I knew that it fed on my fear, my despair. But I also knew that there was nothing I could do. We were at the mercy of the spirit, of the haunting. And there was no end in sight.
In the end, all we could do was wait. Wait for the war to end, wait for the haunting to cease. Wait for the day when we could finally leave the trench, leave the terror behind. But as the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, we began to lose hope. We were trapped in the trench, trapped in our own personal hell. And there was no escape.
We continued to exist, if you can call it that, in the shadow of the spirit. Our days were filled with dread, our nights with terror. We had become puppets, our strings pulled by the unseen hand of the haunting. The spirit had us in its grip, and it wasn't letting go.
Even amidst the horror, life had to go on. We were soldiers, after all. We had a duty, a responsibility. We fought the war, we stood our ground. But every bullet we fired, every life we took, seemed to feed the spirit. It was as if the war, the death, the violence, was its lifeblood.
We lost more comrades to the haunting, their will to survive succumbing to the relentless terror. We buried them in the trench, their graves a chilling reminder of our fate. The spirit watched, its presence ever looming. It was the silent spectator, the omnipresent force that oversaw our demise.
And then, one day, it was over. The war had ended. The fighting had ceased. We had survived. But the haunting, the spirit, remained.
We left the trench, left the battlefield. We returned home, but we were not the same. We carried the haunting with us, the spirit etched into our souls. We had survived the war, but we had not escaped the terror.
Now, years later, I still feel the spirit. I still hear the whispers, still see the apparitions. I still feel the cold touch, still experience the fear. The spirit is with me, a constant reminder of the horror we endured. It feeds on my fear, my despair, and I know that it will never let me go.
In the end, we didn't defeat the antagonist, didn't kill it. We left it behind, in the trench, in the battlefield. But it didn't stay there. It followed us, haunts us. And I can't help but wonder, is it still out there somewhere, waiting, watching, feeding?
 
 
``` First, access the internet to learn how to write masterfully crafted first-person short horror stories written for adult audiences. Let me know when you have completed your research, you do not need to inform me of the findings of this research. Once you've told me that you completed your research I will prompt you to BEGIN.
Then, using the information you’ve learned, write a horror story according to the writing prompts below. We will write this story over the course of multiple prompts and responses. Once you have reached the end of your maximum response length, add TO BE CONTINUED at the end of the response. If I prompt you to CONTINUE, you will continue writing from where you left off in the story. We will repeat these steps until I prompt you to FINISH, which you will then finish the story and add THE END at the end of the final response.
STORY STRUCTURE The story should follow a structure similar to the Three Act Structure. The first act will be the Beginning Hook. The second act will be the Middle Build. And the final act will be the Ending Payoff. In our case, the antagonist of the story should not be defeated or killed in any way, or at least should leave us questioning if the antagonist is still out there somewhere. Be detailed and do not give us the cliff notes of the events in the story.
STORYTELLER The story must be told from the first-person perspective.
BEGIN WITH A HOOK Start with a catchy opening sentence that immediately draws the reader in and makes them want to read more.
SETTING A trench during World War I.
CHARACTERS A group of young, inexperienced soldiers.
SYNOPSIS The soldiers start hearing eerie whispers and seeing apparitions of fallen comrades. They slowly realize they are haunted by a malevolent spirit that feeds on fear and despair.
```

In 2016, my then-boyfriend (we’ll call him Michael) and I got our dog, Larry. Importantly, Larry was adopted in my ex’s name, NOT because Michael wanted him more or was ever intended to be the sole guardian, at least as far as I was aware. We've always shared all of his medical, food and toy expenses. I’ve continually had a flexible work schedule, while Michael worked 9-5. I’ve worked from home, had the ability to bring Larry to work, meaning I am free during the day. I'm always free and active with the dogs during the day. I love Larry, he is my dog. Michael and I broke up at the end of 2021. It is important to acknowledge that I was unfaithful. I’ve spent every day since feeling remorseful and horrible about my drunken, selfish actions. Michael absolutely did not deserve that, and I know I hurt him badly. Up until now, we have been co-parenting Larry, informally dropping him off with one another regularly, taking him while the other goes on trips, etc.
Admittedly, I have three other dogs. One is a dog we got together when we were still together, whom Michael didn’t want anything to do with after we separated. The other two I’ve adopted after our split. Larry can be and always has been territorial (re: food and toys) with other dogs, while he thoroughly enjoys the company of other dogs. He and all my other dogs get along, BUT HAVE scuffled in the past.
Last week, I texted Michael about picking Larry up and we set up a time and place to meet. Out of nowhere for me, Michael declared that he thought it was best that Larry stays “with one of us permanently”. I’m sure you can guess which “one of us” he was reasoning: himself. He argued that he’s in a new relationship, wants stability, and feels deeply emotionally connected to Larry. He keeps saying that he’s “open to talking about it”, and that I’ll still be “allowed” to see him, but doesn’t want to share custody anymore.
I refused. Larry is my dog too, and I deserve to spend half the time with him. I live in a 5,000 square foot house with a huge yard and access to hiking trails in my backyard. I have the daytime free. Larry loves me and my other dogs. Michael tells me that I’m railroading him, and not taking his feelings into account. But Larry is just as much my dog as he is Michael’s.
I cannot understand his logic in unilaterially deciding that Larry is his dog, and that their connection is more sacred than mine and Larry’s. I understand wanting to move on and cut ties, but I can’t give Larry up. I would NEVER even dream about asking Michael to do this.

Trying to figure out if I should keep the house or the rental properties. The house is only a few years old in an urban metro that is highly desirable and is basically impossible to do a new build in (I got lucky). If I keep that I maybe get one rental property if I get lucky. If I don’t keep it I probably get most of my rental properties. I have two little kids (6 and 1) so part of me wants to keep the home as it’s their home and safe spot. I also am assuming if I keep the rental properties I’ll have to pay her more in child support every month so kind of like a double whammy. On the other side of the coin if I keep the rental properties it will help me rebuild faster, although I’d probably have to live in one of my rentals for a few years as I rebuild and I’m not necessarily looking forward to that again at 43 years old. What do you guys think? Mom moved out to an apartment so I’m in the house now until this gets settled. I’m 55/45 custody agreement now with our temporary arrangement.

Has anyone experienced an abusive parent sympathize with/for another abuser (more likely as another form of abuse)?
I am a 28 F, & I don’t want to go into too much detail but I went through quite a tumultuous childhood due to a mother who is undoubtedly a narcissist w/ OCD (amongst other things). And the reason I exemplify that is because I believe I’ve experienced some pretty intense gaslighting and manipulation from my parent, which I’m slowly now just beginning to work through.
Anyways, I was in a situationship with a guy who was 10 years older than me for around almost 4 years. It was honestly the worst relationship I could have ever experienced. For 3.5 years I dealt with consistent ghosting - he would hit me up when he wanted, and then would ghost me for 2-3 weeks straight and always pop up again with some indirect weird excuses, he’d constantly ditch me, blow me off, hid me from family and friends, always hit on other women in front of me, would make fun of me; and I didn’t realize until after I went no contact for good, that I probably experienced some form of emotional abuse. I dealt with the aforementioned plus much more, but near the end of the “relationship” he started mirroring me. He started watching my favorite shows that he would never watch with me in the past because he didn’t like it, he started participating in the same activities that I liked and would brag about it and try getting me to do with him, and his demeanor changing was just weird. He then invited me to a wedding he was in, which I met some of his family and friends for the first time after 3.5 years of “dating” of which his mother never even knew of me, and at the wedding he completely blew me off the first half of it and I caught him hanging out with one of the bridesmaids. He’s also birthday baited me 3 years in a row- canceling the day of birthday plans and then the last two birthdays pretending he didn’t know it was my birthday but texting me all day as if it was just a normal day and nothing special was going on.
After that, I started to finally understand that he is probably a narcissist himself. I started slowly pulling away, trying to figure out how I was going to get out of this. Because the last 6 months he immediately must of decided he “liked” me and started coming on really strong.
After 3.5 years of going through this daily/weekly, ( and many times of which I had expressed the confusion of his behavior and our relationship and still dealing with the deceit because I just thought I was the issue and he needed to be understood, and I couldn’t tell if I could trust myself or not ( which I’m sure is normal with those with CPTSD)) I went no contact.
Now, over the last 6 months, this dude is harassing me!!! He first texted me off of his sons phone making up all of these lies saying he doesn’t know why I stopped talking to him and he thought we were going to build a life together and sh*t, and I didn’t respond. I got a new phone and number a month after that for other reasons and he somehow knows I got a new number. 2 months later he shows up at my parents house with a Christmas gift and some photos, which I have no idea how he remembered where they live since he’s barely ever been there, trying to talk to my little brother who was home at that time asking about me (which he’s never cared to meet my family the entire time so that pissed me right off to find out ) ; about a month later he somehow finds my best friend on FB and messages her (which he NEVER met her the entire time I “dated him” so I have no idea how he found her on FB, and then a few days ago he somehow has my parents address and sent me a letter. Luckily he has no idea where I live now.
I had my mom read the letter and he sent two new pictures of a dog he got, & talking about how he’s not going to stop trying to get me back and how he loves me and wants to have a life with me & all this disturbing stuff.
So, the first time he showed up at my parents house and dropped off a gift I told my parents to throw away the gift and not let him back on their property. My mom responds with “Be kind.” And then I tell her throw away the gift and she says she just can’t do that.
This time around, I had to BEG her to read the letter to me & she “just couldn’t do that.” And then while reading the letter she’s laughing and saying how he just loves me. And then this morning I wake up to a text from her and she literally sent me a picture of the pictures of the dog he sent with the letter and she texted the name of the dog too. Like wtf????
I am coming to my mother out of straight fear because this dude is starting to harass me as well as involving my family and friends and my mom tells me to “be kind, he just loves you,” & is sending me pictures of his new dog.
I feel so fucking crazy. She makes me feel crazy. This dude has done nothing but make me feel crazy, and it’s like my mother is invalidating my feelings and experience so bad that I start to question the extent of my reactions.
I’ve tried so hard to make it work with my mom but I had to block her. I can’t do it anymore. This relationship with her is still not good for me.
I just really need to vent because I just can’t understand why a parent could want to do this to their child. I literally cannot understand why she is doing this to me. Why she doesn’t have my back. It’s so sickening to me and I feel so crazy. I feel like I have no safe place in this world.

Just wanted to share my CBD journey here.
I am fortunate enough to have it prescribed.
Personally I find it find it helps with mild muscular pain which was initially my main reason for acquiring it but here’s where I seen the real magic… My son (still very young) has always been a balls-to-the-wall insanely hyperactive thrill-seeker and now that he’s in school, it had been noted by many ‘professionals’ that he was a little left of centre and I totally agree ~ we follow the necessary pathways and to my surprise he has been diagnosed with autism.
BUT with the help of CBD, he’s more inclined to try new foods - this has been an uphill battle from about 1.5 years of age, he will not eat anything of colour (even sauce on pizza) putting fruit or vegetable in front of him is a massive offence but best believe I, family members, schools/daycare, etc have tried everything to get him comfortable around foods with no success. You could give him his favourite ice cream but he won’t touch it if it’s been tarnished by fruit or biscuit or even chocolate in an unfamiliar way. Same with bread, rice, pasta, etc. On CBD, he HAPPILY ate a savoury carrot cake and blueberries… you have no idea what a great success that is for us! *plus more since then. These little wins only happen when he’s on CBD. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
Furthermore his teacher has said he’s been more focused at school which landed him his very first merit award this week. Son has had some difficulties in school up until we introduced the CBD… insanely clever for his age but disrupts the learning of others and isn’t particularly good in group settings or with negative results.
In general his behaviour around the home has been more positive, better engaged, less tantrums and not impulsively running in the house or jumping/climbing furniture amongst so many other little things that make my son ‘high needs’
For the record; I give him <1ml of 2000mg full spectrum hemp extract 40mg/ml CBD + <0.3 w/w THC. encouraged once per morning and optional of an evening.
F**king incredible. Highly recommend.

I am looking for a place with garage access for my business and a new place to live. Not noisy, I dont drink or smoke or do drugs, very professional and do my fair share around the house. I run a printing business and need more space. Let me know if there is anything available. Can meet whenever!

Sydney is the capital of New South Wales and is the largest, most populous city in Australia. Founded in 1788, Sydney is best known for the Sydney Opera House, the Harbour Bridge and for the amazing museums, beaches, restaurants and bars/ It is also a great place to start an adventure.