Reflex Bag

“MOVE GODDAMN IT.” My dad screeched, his voice echoing down the abandoned hospital “Nickie!” he screamed at me. Our eyes locked. Staring into his familiar green eyes. The stare was broken by reflexes. My head twisted towards the metal door that suddenly flung open with a fantastic amount of force. Fanning a cloud of dust towards us. “What the. . .” my voice cut off then interrupted by another. “NICKIE GET THE HELL OUT OF HEAR” His voice cracking from the dust floating in the room. I nodded throwing the bag of ammo through the window out to my dad’s best supporter Matthias who was waiting further than. He was our only reinforcements if this went terribly. A quake crawled through my bones at the thought. But then again he’s an exceptionally well trained hunter. My thoughts were interrupted by a high leaning squeal coming from behind me. I started to turn on my heel tiresome to face the thing making the unholy sound only to be knocked of my feet and flung through the air. My body hit the concrete walls with a loud ‘CRACK’. “NICKIE!” my dad yelled while he ran to my side. He helped me to my feet, I went cross eyed. My head screaming as the darkness closed in nearly me.

I woke up to a tiny blue room spinning and blurry “Seamus” a familiar voice yelled as the silhouette of a tall man came beside the bed. “She’s awake” The loud holler straining my head. “Wh . . . what hap-p-p_pend” I stuttered. All the information seeped back into my head “s- s –suckers” it hurt to talk. Just the smallest sound felt like I swallowed a dozen knives. “Six of the bloody vampires at that.” I suddenly knew who the man was. His voice half Irish, half Canadian. “Matthias?” I questioned bursting into a coughing fit. “In the flesh” he laughed. A kind, gentle laugh. A pair of footsteps crept into the small room “Nickie?” the person whispered. It was my dad. “Are you . . . Are you ok?” his voice was croaky and with the small amount that I could see he was also beaten up. Real terrible. His face clawed and scratched, bruises puffing up on his face and a long trickle of blood falling from his cheek. “Peachy” I moaned pulling myself up. Every muscle ached and my head felt like it had been hit with sledgehammers. “What happened to you?” I questioned facing toward dad, glancing at the clock. It was 11pm on a . . . “MONDAY!” I freaked. I leaped out of bed grabbing the freshly folded closes from the ancient dark wood table. “NICKIE” my dad said grabbing my shoulder and shoving me down onto the bed. “Sit you ass down and relax” His mandate voice rattled the room gently. I let out a shifty sigh, dropped my shoulders and relaxed, my eyes closing calmly. “You’re not going to go to school today. OK?” My dad stood up and left the room followed by Matthias. My thundering heart slowed down and my head stopped hurting. Just for a moment I felt concord. There was a sudden sound of claws on wood for a split second, breaking my trance and causing my eyes to flutter open. On the night stand was an Eagle. Its beak up high and its fine hair shiny. Just by looking at it you could see it was a high bird. “Hello” my voice was gentle and cool. IT answered with a Noble squawk. Lifting its graceful body. Its shiny wings beating in time of my heartbeat. The gorgeous creature’s body spun. Its wings outstretched, turning into a blur of brown, black and white. A gasp lifted from my mouth. At that instant it disappeared, taking the world with it.

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Today I was doing some school homework on my mac. Then that small message window saying “You are now running on reserve battery power” popped up, so I got my charger out of my bag to use it. I plugged it in but it wouldn’t payment. The small red light on the thing was flickering. I pulled out the plug and made some contact with the plug with my hand. A shock ran through my arm and my hand snapped back with natural reflexes. What’s incorrect with my charger?

Apologies for the long post.

Here’s the deal:

My girlfriend and I adopted a 1½ year-ancient male, neutered cat at the SPCA a week ago. It took him next to no time at all to get used to his new environment, owners, etc. He seemed to like us very much (me especially, when agreed a choice he usually seeks concentration from me instead of my girlfriend).

One problem was that, while he by now seems to know the principle of a litter box, he doesn’t seem to be able to bury his “stuff”, and consistently attempts to bury the plastic bag containing the litter instead of the litter itself. Obviously he fails, so his stools remain exposed, odours develop, making kitty quite upset about this “problem”.

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Incoming search terms for the article:

“MOVE GODDAMN IT.” My dad screeched, his voice echoing down the abandoned hospital “Nickie!” he screamed at me. Our eyes locked. Staring into his familiar green eyes. The stare was broken by reflexes. My head twisted towards the metal door that suddenly flung open with a fantastic amount of force. Fanning a cloud of dust towards us. “What the. . .” my voice cut off then interrupted by another. “NICKIE GET THE HELL OUT OF HEAR” His voice cracking from the dust floating in the room. I nodded throwing the bag of ammo through the window out to my dad’s best supporter Matthias who was waiting further than. He was our only reinforcements if this went terribly. A quake crawled through my bones at the thought. But then again he’s an exceptionally well trained hunter. My thoughts were interrupted by a high leaning squeal coming from behind me. I started to turn on my heel tiresome to face the thing making the unholy sound only to be knocked of my feet and flung through the air. My body hit the concrete walls with a loud ‘CRACK’. “NICKIE!” my dad yelled while he ran to my side. He helped me to my feet, I went cross eyed. My head screaming as the darkness closed in nearly me.

I woke up to a tiny blue room spinning and blurry “Seamus” a familiar voice yelled as the silhouette of a tall man came beside the bed. “She’s awake” The loud holler straining my head. “Wh . . . what hap-p-p_pend” I stuttered. All the information seeped back into my head “s- s –suckers” it hurt to talk. Just the smallest sound felt like I swallowed a dozen knives. “Six of the bloody vampires at that.” I suddenly knew who the man was. His voice half Irish, half Canadian. “Matthias?” I questioned bursting into a coughing fit. “In the flesh” he laughed. A kind, gentle laugh. A pair of footsteps crept into the small room “Nickie?” the person whispered. It was my dad. “Are you . . . Are you ok?” his voice was croaky and with the small amount that I could see he was also beaten up. Beaten up real terrible. His face clawed and scratched, bruises puffing up on his face and a long trickle of blood falling from his cheek. “Peachy” I moaned pulling myself up. Every muscle ached and my head felt like it had been hit with sledgehammers.

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First of all, sorry about my terrible spelling.
I’ve gotten really sick in the past two weeks. I thought it was a common cold, but I don’t reckon it is anymore.

I have bumps at the top of my mouth just before the gag reflex thing?
If I shine a flashlight in my mouth, I can see that at the back on my throat, I have red veins showing.
My tonsils have weird white bubbles on them, it looks like they’re nearly decaying.
I have red/black bags under my eyes.
I keep sneezing, and when I cough it has snot.
My nose is all stuffy, but only on the right side?

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I can hold my breath for about 45 seconds.

But when I get my heart rate up to 160 by going into a sauna and immediately dunking my whole body including my head in ice cold water, I can hold it for 120 seconds or so.

I have a sauna and a “soaker tub”. I filled my tub with cold water and 3, 40# bags of ice.

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My in-laws are excellent people and I like them very much. Our only problem is their obsession over their dog. They have an ill tempered West Raised ground Terrier. The first time I ever met my in laws the dog yapped the entire time I was there and even bit my mother-in-law for simply picking it up. It wasn’t a huge deal till our first son was born. When I was pregnant with him one of my husband’s aunts pulled us aside and told us “We know you like your parents but be careful taking the baby over to their house after he is born because their dog has bit several of his cousins.”
It wasn’t long after he was born that my in-laws started badgering us to bring our son over to visit. We articulated (nicely) our concerns about the dog and questioned if they would be willing to place the dog in the other room while we were there to avoid any problems and they refused. They said it would upset their dog too much and hurt his feelings. After yet more badgering and comments that we were keeping their grandbaby from them we gave in. The whole time we were there the dog growled, snarled and barked when any of them held him. They thought it was cute that their puppy was jealous. After a miserable hour my husband was fed up and we left. We told them we would not be coming back over unless they agree to place the dog up and they got mad and said we were overreacting.
We were able to avoid taking him back over there for quite some time, comforting them w/ visits at restaurant and few at our house. By the time he was 10 months they were back to badgering us about coming to their house. After some scathing remarks once again about us keeping the baby from them and how he gets to visit “my” parents house we chose to try visiting again. Once again we pleaded w/ them to place the dog in another room but were once again met with refusal. We even clarified that since he was now walking he force upset the dog and they still refused. They swore that the dog would NEVER bite our son and we reluctantly chose. It wasn’t ten minutes into our visit when our son toddled over to his grandma and the dog very quickly spun nearly and bit at our son’s face. It missed by less than an inch due to my mother-in-law’s lightning quick reflexes as she snapped up the dog. We literally heard the the dogs teeth as they snapped collectively.
We were so mad we couldn’t converse in. We simply picked up our son, his diaper bag, and left. They called us about an hour later saying that he was only “snapping” and that our son touched the dog as he walked by causing him to do so. He wouldn’t have really bit him!!
We told them we were done and that they could come to our house to visit their grandson whenever they want, but we would absolutely not be going back to their house.
A year later we had another baby. We felt terrible that his parents weren’t spending as much time with their grandsons and my husband and I offered to let them pick the kids up and spend time with them as long as they don’t take them back to their house. They were so excited and two days later they picked up the kids telling us they were taking them to the park and grabbing a bite to eat. They brought the kids back, telling us they had a fantastic time and the kids were sleeping. A week later we found out (quite by accident) that they lied to us and took the kids to their house and stayed there the whole time they were gone.
When we found out we were livid!! My husband called them and they denied the whole thing. My husband’s grandmother called and let it slip. Anyway, now we feel they can’t trust them at all. They are constantly calling asking to pick the boys up and I am always making an excuse as to why they can’t.
I don’t know what else to do. At family functions his family always catch me by myself and make comments about how odd it is that my family is always with the boys and his parents aren’t.
Sorry about the length but I had to get the whole thing out. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

(If you have by now answered, thanks, I just want to see if someone else force possibly know, too

Since I started college last week I’ve been so busy and distracted with my classes that I haven’t hardly been eating anything. (Not intentionally, of course, but it just slips my mind). During the last couple of days, though, I’ve been feeling sick. I don’t FEEL like it’s a lack of food kind of sick…it really feels like I’m going to throw up, which seems weird because it’s not like I’m even eating enough to upset my stomach…that’s the weird thing…it just hurts during the day and I’m shaky, weak, and tired in the morning. Every time I reckon about food or try to eat, I any get sick just thinking about or else only be able to end some of it. If I had an appetite, I would be eating in a snap. I like food…but lately it just makes my stomach hurt thinking about it…

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