By reddit user conffra
I used to live in a small building downtown. One of the reasons I moved out was the bad neighborhood, including this guy in the apartment right over mine. It was a weird looking fella who mostly kept to himself. Around midnight though, there was frequently a strange noise that got on my nerves. It wasn’t loud, to be fair, but I have really light sleep so it was hard to get my eyes shut with those little bumping sounds going on and on. It reminded me of high heels walking about, but not as loud, as if the person causing the noise was actually trying to be silent. After a few days, i realized the pattern was always the same, like a recording played over and over with random intervals in between. And that went on for the best part of an year, always the same sequence of bumps, slowly tattooed into my mind, sometimes for hours straight during the night.
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Omayra Sanchez was a 13-year-old Colombian girl who became trapped in the debris of her collapsed home, which was caused by a mudslide from the eruption of a volcano in 1985.
Sanchez’s legs were bent in a kneeling position and trapped under concrete. Her deceased aunt also had her arms wrapped tightly around the girl’s legs. The workers and volunteers realized there was no way to rescue the girl without severing her legs.
They lacked the equipment to be able to save her from the effects of amputation, so the doctors decided that it would be more humane to let her die. Sanchez lasted three days before succoming to the likely effects of exposure.
The entire world followed her televised plight and was outraged that the government didn’t do more to save her and other victims of the mudslide. (Source)
By Ariel Lowe
The rainy season began in early summer, and June had been no exception. It did not surprise the man when he discovered rainwater dripping from his dining room ceiling.
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by reddit user EZmisery
https://www.facebook.com/EZmisery
http://ezmisery.tumblr.com/
I was born and raised in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Unless you live nearby you’ve probably never heard of it. Even people in the large Wisconsin cities (Madison, Milwaukee) don’t know we exist. Wisconsin in general is known for our cheese, our cows, and our love of beer. And of course for our excess of mental institutions and serial killers.
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The Clink
It all started with a clink,
It was my 21st birthday and shot glasses clinked,
But before then I have always heard a clink,
I was 3 years old and my dad came stumbling in the door,
I had no idea what my parents were fighting for,
I heard my parents divorce was on the brink,
But I was only a toddler what was I suppose to think,
I could never understand,
But my mom and dad held my hand,
My dad came home from having a drink,
But after he passed out on the floor I heard the table clink,
I walked in the dining room door,
But found that he was passed out on the floor,
I looked at the table and saw a can,
And I put the drink in my hand,
I took a sip and it was gross,
It was only then I realized that I missed my dad the most,
I thought it was sprite,
But something just didn't taste right,
It was beer,
But I was to young to know what was clear,
It was all a clink... it was all a clink,
When I found out that you died,
All I could do is cry,
It wasn't out of anger or that things got bad.
It was that I would no longer have my dad.
Never thought I could be so sad.
Or change so much,
But it was with you that I am now out of touch.
I'm now 22 years old and all I hear is a clink,
I clean my cup in the sink that reminds me of my thoughts from last night,
But something didn't feel right,
You weren't there fixing my hair for school,
You weren't there telling me the ultimate life rule.
You died and something in me went with it,
I wish that something could fit,
But I can no longer look forward to seeing you on the street,
Or randomly see you in the local walmart where we would meet,
What could have been so bad?
That you could not reach out to anyone my lovely Dad,
What took over all of your thoughts and pain,
What drove you away from all the things that made you sane.
There's so much I want to tell you and all of the things to know that you would think,
But all I need is to start with the clink.
The clink, the clink again, we need a clink to know where your thoughts began,
What hurt you so bad, I need to know dad,
Those beautiful hazel eyes and their silent cries,
I miss laying with you and how much you showed your love in our hellos and goodbyes.
Esteban
by reddit user alackofcoasters
As a teacher, I get to see and hear a lot of horror stories, maybe not the kind that you are used to. Kids being abused by teachers or parents, students who get hooked on hard drugs and lose scholarships, even teenagers getting raped in the classroom. Bad things happen to good kids. It breaks my heart. All in all, it’s all pretty horrific, some of the things they warn you about in school when you’re getting your teaching credential.
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by reddit user TheEmporersFinest
Although rather lengthy, I received many messages to make a post about this story. After reading, I understood why.
We’d all known Dennis had less than a week and we’d all braced ourselves, for all the good that would do. This was going to tear us apart and leave a ragged gaping hole in all our lives. But that would be it. It would fit within our understanding of things and we could all assume he went wherever we thought people go. That would have been so much easier, so much less troubling than what actually happened.
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