My Alarm Clock Scared Me, So I Turned It Off And Forgot To Turn It Back On. Now I Have No Grasp On The

I left my siblings to make me in Sims, and I'm too scared to go into the room and see what they did.

Wanna see me do something cool?

*breaks all the bones in my entire body*

Wanna see me do it again?

My little sister commented under a video that it made her cry, and apparently someone replied, "Good. Suffer."

She said they reminded her of me?

I want to take it as a compliment, but I don't know if I should.

I've had more strawberry lemonade in the past few days than I've ever had in my entire life, and honestly, I think I have a new favorite drink.

I've just discovered I can't be forklift certified for at least three years.

To say I'm disappointed is an understatement.

I'm listening to Creator by Lena Raine, the music box version, and I really feel like wandering through an empty castle during a storm and crying. Like the lost ghost of a child long forgotten, mourning the loss of love never received. Like the pain would be physical, yet silent, if they still had a body to feel.

... or something like that.

Online interaction I had that makes me smile for some reson:

"Does that mean there's a very killable child in the area?"

"Oh, damn. You're right....."

When me and my siblings were little, we were told stories about these "Older Siblings" who all died in the most strangest ways. The most memorable one was about an "Older Brother" who died while running a marathon. He was running backwards while eating a bowl of cereal and ran off the track. He ended up running straight off a cliff. My older brother said the story always gave him nightmares, yet our parents claim they don't know where the stories came from. We still don't know the source, and the only other stories I can recall, though I don't remember the details, is one about an "Older Sister" who ate flowers and was poisoned, and an "Older Brother" who drowned under frozen ice due to some unusual circumstances.

Shoot the messenger, send a message.

Just wanted a post to remember the day.

6/9/2025 My dad almost sent me to a psych-ward over a panic attack. I was crying and he threatened to hit me with a wooden paddle three times if I didn't do what he asked, the third time I was going to let him, but he stopped right before he did because I still wouldn't move. He threatened to send me somewhere while I was crying on the bathroom floor and over-heard him on the phone with dispatch telling them he thought I was "a danger to herself." He told me to go pack, and I finally calmed down enough to tell him what was wrong. My bag has been sitting on my bed packed for over five hours. So far no one has come, so I think I'm in the clear. I genuinely thought I would end up bleeding out on the bathroom floor or in a mental hospital by now, so I guess tonight went better then it could've?