When I was about to start high school, my mom told me that senior boys were grown men, and if any were interested in me then I should ask myself why they, as adults, were interested in a kid right out of middle school. And why they couldn’t get someone their own age.
Be safe, kiddos. A year counts a lot more when you’re younger, and the kind of senior who wants to date a freshman is well aware of this.
Cutting off hair in ancient Asia (Japan, china, Korea & possibly some other Asian cultures) symbolizes being banished or rejected from their home. In the more modern age that is now, cutting long hair into a short cut means to forget the past, leaving the old and starting anew.
set a calendar alert RIGHT NOW. this is the work we need to do moving into 2018. we need to be READY.
Set an alert for May of 2018, not November. That’s when campaigns are going to get going, and that’s when the work needs to be done. November is the finish line, not the beginning.
i hate hate hate how white people laugh at cultures that believe in curses or superstitions like they don’t tell their kids that a man jumps down their chimney once a year and flies through the air on a cart pulled by magic reindeer
Fuck. This is the realest shit I’ve read today. Like it’s ok to feel special to be treated nice but you have to remember that you deserve that. You SHOULD be treated well. Don’t latch onto someone just because they’re doing what should be required. Acknowledge it and keep it flowing
You’re in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed. One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself.
Case: #273402 Status: Disastrous.
I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn’t scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters… I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying! I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte’s bed. Across the room underneath Daniel’s crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster. I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again. “I’m not afraid of you monster!” She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and… She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With. Me. “Move. Over!” Charlotte hisses at me. I do. The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn’t afraid of any of my monsters; she’s afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out. “What the…” I cut Francis’s next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face. “If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity.” I promise to him. As Francis runs from the room he soils himself. I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling.” Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed.
