S.Coups: Bright red. Worn in baseball caps, over-sized jerseys, hot dogs and empty stadiums. The smell of fresh strawberries; Getting into your house after a day out in the winter; The feel of a new basketball. Warm summer nights. The sound of kids in the hallways on the last day of school after the bell rings; Screaming when you finally beat a hard level in a game; Teasing eyes; Mangoes.
Woozi: An untouched field of bright crisp snow; the satisfaction you get when you ace a test you thought you’d do bad on. Thick Holiday sweaters; paper lanterns glowing in dark streets; serious conversations with your normally easy-going friend at 2 in the morning. The colors mint and peach. Smiling to yourself as someone unknowingly compliments you. Laughing to yourself, embarrassed, after you caught yourself daydreaming about someone. The feel of new notebooks.
Hoshi: The rush of joy you feel all at once as you’re trying your hardest doing something you love. Watermelon Popsicle sticks. Turquoise. Giggles breaking the silence. 2007- 2009 pop songs that you still break out screaming to if they come on the radio. Cherry lip balm. Daisies. Empty hockey rings. Cheesy Valentine’s Day teddy bears. Spending hours on a project you’re working on, not noticing you worked through the night. Plastic water bottles.
Wonwoo: Ocean blue. Secret smiles. The jokes written on cards you get at the Pharmacy. Midnight walks. Being in a warm jacket outside during the fall. Apples. The feel of a cold PlayStation controller. Fresh pumpkins. Inside jokes with your friends. Laughing really hard after not laughing for a long time. The smell of clean linen. The moon’s reflection on a car window. Hugging a friend you haven’t seen in a while. Worn in converse sneakers. The sound of a shower running. Soft cloth.
Mingyu: Warm cheesy pizza. Unexpectedly laughing loudly. Ultramarine blue. Fuzzy socks. Riding your bicycle really fast and feeling the wind hit you. Mozzarella sticks. Ice cold soda on a hot day. The way gloves feel when they just got out the dryer. Giggling to yourself as you enjoy doing something childish. Dancing to yourself in front of a mirror. The sound of the city on a busy day. Dipping new paint brushes into paint. Bright sunlight pouring in through a window.
Vernon: Staying up all night on the internet. Late night jokes with your friends. Burgers. Crinkled plaid shirts. Purple. The way your face scrunches up as you laugh really hard. 2 a.m. Ramen noodles. Feeling satisfied as you push yourself past your comfort zone and get good results. Jokes so bad they’re funny. Falling asleep to the sound of a tv show. Opening a new album package that you waited forever for. Plastic figurines. Feeling nervous on the first day of school. Rubber bracelets. Relaxing car drives.
Dino: Stretching in the morning. Lopsided beanies. Pumpkin seeds and tangerines. Long needed hugs. Making fake mohawks with shampoo/soap. Brand new comic books. The way your eyebrows furrow as you work hard doing something you love. The color green.
Randomly learning a weird fact. Rushing to open a package of takeout when you’re really hungry. Racing during gym. Ham and cheese sandwiches.
Seungkwan: The smell of warm, fresh out the oven, buns. Pastel yellow and baby blue. Soft pajamas. Purposefully singing badly to a song. Scrapbooks. The taste of vanilla. The feeling of satisfaction and pride you get after you tell a joke and everybody starts laughing. Those dollar store kids hand sanitizers. Preppy button up shirts. Warm honey brown eyes. The way a librarian smiles at you sweetly. Snow falling in your hair. Thick fluffy scarves. Really puffy winter jackets. Dandelions.
DK: Yellow and orange. Sunflowers. The way you squint your eyes when the sun is too bright. Fried chicken + french fries. Late night snacks. Sliding down wooden floors in socks. Terrible romantic movies. Imitating/mocking the GPS’ voice when you’re driving. Holding hands with your friends. The toy section at the dollar store. The smell of citrus. Bananas. Finger painting. Bouncing your leg as you type away. Laughing with someone, adoration shining through your eyes. Oversized shirts with jokes written on them.
The8: Rubber bouncy balls. Happy family reunions. Fuzzy slippers. Tinsel. The faint sound of music playing at a bbq. Baby golden retrievers. Surprising yourself with your own strength. Bonfires late at night on the beach. The sun shinning extremely bright after it rained. Long eyelashes. Roast sessions with your friends. Coconuts; the smell of purple grapes. Holiday music playing in stores. Fake mustaches and waffles. Two toned/swirled ice cream. The way the warm sidewalk pavement feels against your bare feet.
Jun: Retro red. The night sky when there are no stars out. Kitchen aprons and rose petals. Steele blue. Brand new pencils. Bright white teeth and secret winks. Jumping in (clean) puddles when it’s raining. Airplanes. Apricots and strawberry jam. Cheap perfume and small tourist knick knacks. Warm caramel, covered in chocolate. When your friend pulls through for you. 1 a.m. phone calls. Waking up before you’re supposed to and just laying there, thinking, until your alarm goes off. Fake-flirting with your friends. Plastic flower necklaces.
Jeonghan: Neutral colors. Cactus’ and pastel flower pots. The silence before a storm. Sticking your tongue out playfully. Laughing so hard you accidentally hurt yourself by bumping into something. Messy toaster strudels. Accidentally succeeding at something/good luck. Nostalgia. When you’re tired but so excited you can’t sleep. Watching terrible comedy movies with your friends and laughing more with each other than at the movie. Cinnamon toothpaste. Saltine crackers; absentmindedly laying in a weird position when you’re invested in your hobby.
Joshua: Worn down wood. Maple syrup on warm fluffy pancakes. Procrastinating by watching strange useless videos on Youtube. Old headphones. When your desk is messy but you kinda just know where everything is. Coffee shops and doughnuts with sprinkles. The sound of traffic at night. Knowing every word to a child’s song you haven’t sang in years. Chipped nail polish. Jeans and messy hair. Seeing your own breath when it’s very cold out. Drawing small hearts on the car window. Secret Pinterest boards.
Warnings: Mild swearing, social anxiety, butt slapping mentions of alcohol, and violence
Request: (Anon) :I thought you were my friend so I slapped your ass in greeting AU please!
A/N: At first I didn’t think I’d be able to do this one, but I totally fell in love with it and it all game together. I love this one so much. As for the anon, that brought up our faults in our schedules, I’m really sorry. We are really going to try and stick to the schedule this week, unlike last week which was awful. Enjoy!
“Excuse me, excuse me.” you whispered as you tried to navigate the crowd. Your friends had abandoned you and you were left in a terrifying crowd of punks. You were sure that they were all nice once you got to know them, but they were intimidating from the outside, and you could barely speak because you were choked up with fear.
You shifted with the long line to the concert. You popped in your earbuds and tried to calm down and listen to some music. You texted your friends, begging for them to come back or at least take you home.
They were your ride, and as of now, you would have to find a way home. You frowned when you glanced down at your battery. It was already below 50%. You envisioned yourself in the worst possible scenario, getting thrown into the mosh pit, suffocating from beer, smoke, body heat, and of course social anxiety.
At the thought of this, you turned up the music a little louder, trying to drown out your thoughts. It was getting dark and the concert was about to begin. You had no idea what you were going to do. You considered hiding and crying in a restroom for majority of the concert and hope your phone had enough battery to call someone to pick you up.
“Hey, sexy!” you felt a swift slap across your butt.
Your face instantly turned red. Every part of your body turned red hot. Anxiety coursing through your veins. Your heart pounded in your chest. Your stomach dropped.
“Ohmygod!” you turned around to see a man, completely red staring at his hand and back at you. “Ohmygod. I am so sorry. I thought you were-I-I.”
You stared at disbelief at the man. He was short and had curly dark hair, that poofed under his red baseball cap. The cap was torn and frayed on the edges with a bit of sweat around the bill. His freckles were like stars compared to his red tomato face.
“I am so so so so sorry! I thought you were my friend and I-”
“Your girlfriend?” you blurted out.
“What? No. My boy-I mean my best friend. Alex. Alexander Hamilton? He’s about yeah high,” he waved the air just below his neck, “full of angst, anger, long dark hair but smooth. Kinda like mine but straight.”
“What? Excuse me?”
You blushed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” you looked down and tried to avoid his eyes.
“What’s so funny?” he asked in a joking tone.
“Nothing, it’s just… you started out saying boyfriend, then you said he was straight and you said you have curly hair-which I mean you do, it’s beautiful-but then it was like the implied joke that you know you aren’t straight and ohmygod I’ll shut up. I’m sorry.” you were rambling and your words jumbled into one, long, run on sentence.
You expected him to yell or defend himself.
He replied with a grin and laughed. He extended his hand. “I’m John. John Laurens. You can call me, J, J La, Laurens, Johnny, Jonathan, frankly you can call me whatever you like.” he chuckled. You took his hand and shook it tentatively.
“I think I’ll just stick with John…J La.” you laughed.
He smirked. “So forgive me, let’s forget about my friend for one moment. But, you seem like a fish out of water here.”
You laughed and nodded. You and John walking to keep up with the moving line. “Yeah, I came with some friends but they ditched me. Also, they were my ride. So, I’m kind of just stuck here. This night has been pretty awful so far.”
“Well, that’s nothing a few beers, dancing, and good music can’t fix.” he smiled.
“Shouldn’t you find your friend, Alex, or something?”
“Nah, he’s fine. Probably lecturing some poor old punk about classic rock and such. He actually kind of likes heavy metal, but I dragged him here with me.” John pointed to his shirt, pointing at the Aerosmith logo. “I love classic rock. But yeah, he’s probably fine. You wouldn’t mind sticking with me would you? I just..I just don’t want you to get lost or overwhelmed because your friends were such assholes-oh,” John blushed, “sorry, that wasn’t my place.”
You shake your head. “You weren’t wrong.” you sighed. “But, I guess I’ll have to take you up on that offer, considering that I well have no one else except me, myself and I.”
John smirked back at you. “You wouldn’t mind if I held your hand then?” he blushed. “Ya, know…so that we don’t get separated or anything…”
“No, not at all.” you threw your hand into his. A warm feeling washed over your body. It wasn’t anxiety anymore. You couldn’t explain it.
You and John continued to talk, he talked a lot of about Alex, and then asked about you. You let him pull you a few rows behind the mosh pit. You started to scream at each other, because the band was doing soundchecks and the crowd was chanting and cheering.
“So, you work at a pizzeria?” you asked.
“Yeah, I actually own it. Just on a college campus not far from here. Originally, I was just an apprentice at the old place, but the old man moved and gave it to me. She’s my little baby. Kind of like Alex.” he laughed. “I swear we aren’t a thing. He’s just my odd wing-man/best friend.”
“Suuuure.” you laughed.
“New York City!!!” one of the frontman singers screamed into the microphone. His hair was long overgrown and thinning fast with old age. He must have been touring for at least half a decade now and was closer to a hundred. The man who was a classic rock legend of his era, was almost a century. But he still had the sound pipes of an angsty thirty year old.
You and John quickly got pushed into the mosh pit.
“John!” you screamed as you lost his hand in yours.
You found yourself in the middle of screaming, sweating, violent, and drunk psycho fans. One elbowed you in the face telling you to ‘shove it’ along with many non-family friendly words. You winced at the throbbing in your nose. You were slowly pushed into the depths of the pit, around everyone’s stomping feet. Someone stepped on your hand.
“John!” you screamed.
You heard a distant shout at the bottom of the feet. Every time you tried to stand up, you got pushed under like trying to resurface the ocean with a wave crashing over your head. Except, instead of white rimmed waves, cigarette ashes and beer fell over your head.
The next moment was filmed with absolute sailor profanity. A fight broke out around you. More so than before. And in the middle of it was a short, freckled-faced, curly haired man. You watched, with tears running down your face, blood running from your nose, as John took a broad looking guy, covered in tattoos.
John hit him with an uppercut punch, and finalized it with a punch to the gut. Anyone who stepped in his pathway ended up with a broken nose and intense bruises. You watched the anguish on his face, sweat dripping down his temples, cap being pushed around. When everything was too loud and panicking to bear, your vision went black.
Strong arms hooked themselves beneath your arms, secured you and pulled you back. The arms dropped from yours, to under your back and legs.
When you could see again, the lights and blaring of the concert was a haze.
“You’re okay!” John cried.
Another man, equally short squatted over you. His hair was dark and slicked into a messy bun, with a scrappy beard.
“Here, take this.” the nameless man said, placing a cold ice pack to your face. John ran to grab a paper towel and helped stop the nosebleed.
“John.” you cried softly, shaking your head. Your tears turned to laughter. “You are dead. You are going to get your ass kicked. You messed with some pretty scary dudes.” you laughed.
The nameless man grinned and slugged John in the arm. He said, “I’m Alex, by the way.”
You and John burst out laughing. You reached for his hand, struggling to calm the tremors in your body. He reached back for yours and met your eyes with a soft smile. He had a few scratches and bruises on his face. A single tear fell. He wrapped an arm around you and held you tight.
“I’m so glad that you are okay.” he cried. He shook his head and sniffed.
“Awww, you’re like a little baby, with snot running down your face.” Alex laughed at John.
John laughed and tried to ignore him. “You know, if you aren’t too traumatized, we could go back to the concert-” he paused when he saw the look of discomfort in your eyes, “-or I was thinking more sensibly, we could go eat an old diner or grab a drink and dance there with no possible chance of a Lion King stampede.” he joked, in a light manner.
Alex shook his head at him. “Too soon man.”
“It’s fine.” you laughed.
“No! I’m taking about Mufasa! It’ll never be okay! He tried to save his son, and he died!” Alex sobbed.
You cocked your head at John, a sly smile on your face. “Is he okay? Is he joking?”
John shrugged. “No one knows.”
John stood up and helped you up. He pulled you into him, an arm around you, the other hand in yours. “Shall we go get a drink then?” he smiled.
“Yeah! Five tequila shots, on John!” Alex snatched the car keys from John’s pocket and started running towards the parking lot.
“I was thinking more like just the two of us.” John laughed.
Alex stopped and looked at John, awful concerned. “Don’t you think that’s quite rude?” he gestured to you.
“I meant (Y/N) and I.” John frowned.
“Well, you need a third wheel for stability right? Buy me five shots and I’ll hang out by the jukebox. You guys won’t even notice me.”
John laughed and looked to you. You shrugged. “I call shotgun!” John shouted. He let go of you and make a quick jump forward.
“No!” Alex screamed. “I don’t want to drive!” Alex booked it to the parking lot.
“Why’d you do that?” you asked. John hadn’t took off running.
“So that I could do this.”
John yanked you forward and kissed you. He had a sharp intense grip on you and kissed you fiercely. Until he softened and melted into the kiss. His grasp softened to nothing and his hand slipped to your hair. To your chin. He brushed his hands down slowly and gently. John’s lips hurt a little bit against yours because of the bruises, but you kissed him back.
“Guys!” Alex came running back, out of breath. “What is taking you so long-oh, GROUP HUG!”
Before you and John could break apart, Alex threw his arms around the both of you.
“Why does he do this?” you laughed, uncomfortably, pressed up against John.
“To ruin the moment.” John laughed. “But, that’s nothing a swift punch can’t fix.” John broke from you, just a moment, to clock Alex in the shoulder, enough to stagger him but not to hurt him. John grabbed you and again and kissed you.
“I like this.” you said in between a kiss.
“I like this too.” John smiled. “I like you more.”
Time slipped by in John’s arms. Your head throbbed with an enormous headache, but it turned to a dull ache when you kissed John. You both ignored Alex’s protests as you kissed more intensely than before. The kiss was filled you with everything and simultaneously nothing.
The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royal AU [Chapter 1]
Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general’s daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the ‘other’ prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.
Alright, here we are! I’m so excited to be FINALLY writing this story and I wanted to have a few chapters written in advance so I wouldn’t have to wait ages to update (I’ll be shooting for weekly updates, god willing). Keep in mind that this is a modern royal AU that’s got a Prince Harry type version of Killian (who I’m kind of in love with already) and there’s going to be a lot of feels/angst ahead. There will be some M-rated stuff eventually, but it’s a long ways off so I’ll post a warning before those chapters. Thank you all for being patient and lovely :) enjoy! XOXO
“You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, little brother,” Liam grumbled, a soft curse under his breath before throwing a sideways glare. “Above and bloody beyond.”
A roll of his tired eyes before lowering his sunglasses was the only response Killian could muster at an early hour like this on a Saturday. Aside from the harsh sunlight battling the tinted windows of the black SUV, the hazy state of his brain had certainly left him in no mood for a lecture or an honor inspired chat - especially one that was clearly about to be riddled with rather specific vocabulary and those well known accusations he truly couldn’t care less about.
Well, at least that’s how he was planning on stubbornly playing this.
“Been fighting cameras and reporters all morning,” Liam continued, silencing his cellphone as the vehicle rounded the corner of a palace surface road. “It’s an absolute royal mess, Killian.”
There it was - irony intended or not. It was that single word he’d been smacked with a thousand times over.
Royal. Royal, royal, royal.
The term had labeled him - well, them - for as far back as his recollection stretched, but even after a few decades of being wrapped up in that title, Killian still found himself a little uncertain on how such a word was defined. It wasn’t easy to fend off his amusement at his brother’s unnoticed pun, but Killian leaned back against the leather seat and considered the approaching speech he’d heard so many times over the course of his privileged life. Talk about a king complex, he thought as he watched Liam type out some sort of message with very obvious irritation.
“Max, you can’t just pick all the vegetables out,” (Y/N)
scolded, as her brother pulled a ketchup-soaked lettuce leaf from his burger
and dropped it onto the side of his plate, where it fell with a wet splat.
“Wa-watch me,” Max stuttered smugly.
(Y/N) didn’t force the issue. She watched him take a huge
gulp of his milkshake then screw his eyes shut against the brain freeze. In the
soft neon glow of the diner, Max couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s
brother, with his (Y/H/C) hair falling in his (Y/E/C) eyes, he was (Y/N). Minus
the criminal record.
Shhh just hear me out ok. buckle up your seatbelts and let’s talk about this doofus of a boy who doesn’t know that he likes boys.
Derek doesn’t know what it is about William that makes him enjoy being around him, even if they drive each other crazy.
William doesn’t know why this boy won’t just let him live his life and keep his pretty face to himself. It goes to show you that the one boy who William develops a crush on ends up being straight as hell.
But there’s just something about him that gives Dex hope.
Maybe it’s the way Nursey brings him coffee every Thursday morning before they go to English 111.
Or the way Nursey cant help but smile every time Dex walks into the room
Or how about whenever Dex gets tired and really just wants to listen and not talk, Nursey will gush for hours about this novel he is reading.
Dex loved spending time with Nursey and hell he’d fallen in love head over heels for this boy, but he kept reminding himself that Nursey was straight.
Nursey didn’t know why being around Dex was so easy.
He memorized Dex’s coffee preference (cinnabon creamer and two Splendas) and brought it to him every Thursday.
He didn’t know why when Dex talked to him, his cheeks started to warm up or his hands would get sweaty.
Nursey had no idea why longed to touch his fiery red hair and stroke it until Dex fell asleep in his lap.
The only other person he felt this way about was Maggie…who he ended up dating for a year.
Nursey suddenly freezes and all external noise just stops
He likes? Dex? What? HOw can this be? he had only liked girls or found girls pretty before. Like sure he’d seen pictures of like Chris Evans abs and been like wow id like to like a shot of vodka off him, but who wouldn’t right, Shitty?
Shitty: Chris Evans is a beaut
Lardo: Shitty isn’t the one to talk about normal str8 boy stuff with
Nursey: *hits the blunt faster and harder*
Nursey had to take this all in and process it holy crap what was this.
When he finally came back to reality, he knew what he had to do.
He marched his way across campus to the Haus where Dex was busy trying to get Betsy to run again.
He walked in the kitchen and saw Dex with his red baseball cap on backwards and in blue jeans and a tight white shirt with grease stains on it and he could barely breath..
Dex heard him walk in and looked up from where he was working. “Hey Nurse,” he smiled, “how’s it going?”
Nursey walked over to him and planted a sloppy wet kiss on Dex’s chapped lips and prayed to God.
He broke away and Dex was all starry eyed and trying to figure out what happened.
Nursey just nodded, “Yup…im definitely bi.” He turns and starts to walk out of the kitchen.
Before leaving, he throws his head over his shoulder and says, “Dex. Dinner? At 8?”
Dex nodds, “yeah…totally…that would be like…chill.”
There’s nothing quite as bittersweet as the end of baseball season. When the last pitch is thrown, we resume our normal activities and prepare for next season. There’s a bit less stress and not as many late nights, but there’s definitely something missing when the season comes to a close.
As an intern, it’s a harsh reality that baseball season is ending. For me, it means that my internship is over. I’ll have more time to dedicate to school and extracurriculars, but without the Reds, something will be missing; this job is going to be a tough one to leave behind.
Before I sign off from the computer one last time, I want to say a sincere thank you to the Cincinnati Reds. There’s no other way I would’ve wanted to spend my summer, and I’m immensely grateful that I got to be a part of this exceptional community. This internship was truly a once in a lifetime experience, and the amount of knowledge I gained here is invaluable.
So with that, it’s time to let two other social media interns take the seat at the Reds Connect Zone. It’s a whirlwind of a job, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Filming is underway on the third American
Crime Story anthology series that details the killing of Gianni Versace
by drifter and hustler Andrew Cunanan in 1997.
Glee alum Darren Criss was spotted in character as Cunanan as cameras rolled on location in Miami Beach on Tuesday.
Ryan Murphy project for FX explores the events leading up to the famous
designer’s murder on the steps of his Ocean Drive mansion and the
manhunt for Cunanan that ended when he took his own life while hiding
out on a houseboat.
Criss, 30, is clearly excited about the role, posting to Instagram a shot of the cover of his script for the show.
‘It begins,’ he wrote alongside the photo.
Venezuelan actor Edgar Ramirez, who plays Versace, shared a image of an
ornate fountain and pool at the former Versace Mansion, which is now a
boutique hotel, The Villa Casa Casuarina.
The shocking killing of the Italian fashion leader brought together a
host of celebrities for his memorial in his home town of Milan including
Princess Diana, Elton John, Naomi Campbell, Karl Lagerfeld, Georgio
Armani and Sting.
Criss as Cunanan was seen driving a red
pickup truck similar to the one the spree killer stole after shooting
dead his fourth victim, a cemetery caretaker in New Jersey.
He wears baggy faded blue jeans with black belt and a short-sleeved dark blue cotton shirt.
sports the same kind of round rimmed spectacles that Cunanan was seen
wearing in a photo released by the FBI as the manhunt for the killer
In another scene shot by the
ocean, Criss looks more disheveled in a gray t-shirt with red baseball
cap as he walked on the sand carrying a black backpack and his sneakers.
Creepypasta #1053: My Brother Probably Saved My Life
When I was nine (I’m
twenty now), my family moved across the country from Pennsylvania to
California, deciding to make a road trip out of it. We stopped at famous
landmarks and points of interest along the way, stopping at a hotel to rest
each night. The next morning we would get up and do it all over again.
One night when we were driving through Kansas, I asked my
parents if they could pull over at a gas station so I could use the bathroom.
Both of them were super tired, and my older brother was fast asleep, so they
decided it would be all right if I ran in by myself.
a few minutes after I had gone in, my brother instantly jolted awake. They told
me he sat up straight and was completely pale, with the most terrified look in
“Mom,” he said, turning to our mother. “You need to
go in and get Lily."
Confused, my parents asked him what was going on, but
he wouldn’t respond. "Just go in!” he said, nearly in tears. Figuring
that something was wrong, but not wanting to waste any more time questioning,
my mom went into the gas station bathroom and brought me out.
When we got back in the car my mom asked him what that was
all about. He refused to answer, later telling her that he didn’t want to say
anything in front of me.
When we arrived at our hotel that night he waited
until I was asleep before pulling my parents aside and explaining to them why
he had been so insistent that one of them go in to get me: while in the car at
the gas station he’d had a dream that we stopped at a gas station and I had
gone in by myself to use the bathroom.
There was a man in there, and he
described him in great detail, that was watching me and had every intent of
doing me harm. To this day he won’t talk specifics, but apparently he saw this
man doing evil things to me in that dream that have forever haunted him – he
says the idea of saying them out loud literally made him feel sick to his
this is the part that really freaks me out. As soon as he
finished telling my parents about the dream, my mom broke down and said that
she had seen that man in the gas station, the very one he described: tall,
bearded, wearing a dirty green t-shirt, jeans, and a red baseball cap. She said
he had been standing around outside the bathrooms, but hadn’t thought much of
it at the time, as she figured he was just waiting for his wife or something.
in mind, there is no way my brother could have actually seen this man: he was
asleep before we’d arrived at the gas station, and even if he had been
awake, from where our car was parked it was impossible to see that far back
inside the store and around the corner where the bathrooms were. And the man
was already in there by the time I went in, so it wasn’t like my brother had
seen him go in after me.
My parents didn’t tell me the truth about that story until
years later. In high school we had an assignment where we had to write a little
bit about our life story, and I thought back to our move to California and
somehow remembered that my family seemed to be terrified about something after
I’d come out of the bathroom at that gas station; I remembered getting back in
the car and seeing the look on my brother’s face, and how he’d told my mom
“later” when she asked what was going on. Most of the rest of the
trip was blurred in my mind, but I remembered how drastically my family’s
demeanor changed after that night – they weren’t themselves for what seemed
Anyway, I explained the assignment to my mom and asked her what had
had happened on that trip that had caused me so much confusion over the years.
I could tell that this was a memory she did not want to be reminded of, but out
of curiosity I persisted, and she finally gave in. She told me everything.
I wish I could give you answers, but there just aren’t any.
All I know is that whatever force, God, angels it was that alerted my brother
to the danger I was in that night, I will forever be grateful to them/it. And
if there’s one thing I’ve taken away from this experience it’s to listen to
your intuition and your dreams. Oftentimes they’re just silly, imagined
scenarios of your deep slumber, but after going through this I do believe that
we are being watched over by something higher than ourselves, and that they
communicate with us in subconscious ways.
Thankfully my brother
heeded the warning. I don’t think I would be here today telling this story if