stop and smell the flowers

bruh

But yeah, it’s a WYSIWYG with a really straight-forward GUI, if I remember correctly.

It even comes with some free backgrounds and characters and stuff, and this is what it looks like:

Did I mention it’s super duper free? It hasn’t been updated since 2010, but it has basically all you’d need to make a simple visual novel.

Im begging you for help. 

This is my friend, he’s only 17 years old, 18 this July. He’s funny and kind and generous. He’s very smart and talented, and really cares about his friends and for others. Hes trapped. Trapped in an abusive home and with abusive parents. 

Things have always been bad, threats to be beaten, actually being beaten, constant sexist and transphobic bullshit. Everyday, almost every hour. My friend doesn’t get a break.He’s told how “disgusting” he looks, or how “unwanted” he is. Hes insulted for eating, for not eating. For how he dresses, how he talks, what he likes. If he ever found something he liked; drawing, writing, the computer, talking to friends, watching anime, it was taken away and insulted. He has no safe place, no support, no love. and today things got worse…..

His father has threatened to kill him

“Have you decided to die?? Then just go DIE?? Stop killing me everyday?? You better stay in the house and go to college and if you think you could run away with your friend and use their money or anything I wont be human, I’d cut you piece by piece.” His father, his own father, is now threatening to “bury” him.  "why the hell do you walk around this house like you’re dead?? Is this how you behave in a house?? What have we done to you so bad that you act like this? Did we hit and beat you up? Do you even know what true suffering is??” The answer is yes. They have hit him and beaten him up, many times. Yes he does know what suffering is, not only to be a  lgbt teenager in India in a unsupportive home. But also because abuse is as common as breathing for him. 

The last time I went to India the two of us tried to run away together and failed. We got caught. Im back in the states now trying to get a visa to return and I think they have turned off his wifi and blocked my number as of today. I have booked a ticket for July 4rd. His birthday. However I need your help. I need someone to talk to, to help me plan this out, to figure out what I should do. I need someone who can come with me to India, I need money, I need advice, he needs support.

Ive never met someone quite like him, he struggles everyday and despite it all, despite being told hes “better off dead”. Despite being called “worthless” and a “punishment”, despite the insults and the abuse. He loves his family and is pushing through it all for a bright future. We have struggled together on our own for so long. Its been over a year of trying to escape. We cant do this alone anymore. Please dont let him die. Not because of his father, or this world. 

Help me show him people care, that someone out there loves him and wants to see him smile. Help me bring him to a safe place where he can recover. Please. I couldn’t live without him. Dont let his life….or his hope slip away. 

Please. Save his life, save mine. His father has threatened twice to call the police on me and claims to “know everything you’re planning”. He doesn’t but his assumptions are way too close for comfort. Im all alone here. Please anything you can do literally anything. Help me. Help him. We are just kids, the world shouldn’t be so cruel. Hes all I have, please help me to save him.

My square cash can be found here:

My email is [email protected]

Please im me or send me a ask. 

My Go fund me is here

How I think everyone else sees me: The quirky supporting actress

Who alway got in trouble? Me.

They would call my mother and she always came in and lectures my teachers and threatened to sue for making her miss work and treating me poorly.

She always taught my brothers to respect women. The only fights my brothers ever got in was defending women from someone else.

So naturally, I end up in the principal’s office, refusing to apologize. 

“He shouldn’t have put his hands on me and I wouldn’t have hit him!” That’s the only thing I was saying.

These people had the unfortunate luck of catching my dad at home, instead of my mom. So he comes fucking sauntering in there, like he’s Clint fucking Eastwood in some western movie and looks at me. 

“Melissa, did you punch him?” 

“Yes.” I said. 

“Why?” 

“Because he snapped my bra strap.” 

And he turns his squinty eyed glare to the principal and says, “You’re telling me my daughter is in trouble because that squirrely looking kid put his hands on her and she chose to defend herself? That’s what you are saying to me.” 

“Well, sir-” The man kind of stuttered because my dad is kind of intimidating in the quiet sort of way that kind of whispers in the back of your mind that this person could be dangerous. “Melissa did make it physical.” 

“No. That kid put his hands on my daughter. Are you saying my daughter cannot defend herself when some boy decides to put hands on her? Is that what you are teaching my girl?” 

The nuns there were like, so rad. 

It was a party organized for the end of the school year, and I was helping in the kitchen to prepare stuff with a nun and a bunch of little girls. There was one of the girls’ little brother who was there. 

There was a little girl who was carrying a bowl of tomato sauce and was going outside, but the boy was just in front of her and he slammed the door in her face. She dropped the bowl on the floor and got all messy. 

So what happened? 

The nun went outside, took the boy by the arm, and gave him an epic speech going around the lines of: “Would you treat the Virgin Mary like that, young man?” “Nnnnno…” “Then treat every girl like she’s the Virgin Mary.” Not only the boy had to apologize to the little girl, but he also had to clean up and he was put on kitchen duty for the rest of the day. 

Then another day, in catechism class (I was a in a girls’ school, mind you), the nun was there telling us: “If a guy touches you in a way you don’t like, punch him in the face. It’s not a sin against charity. On the contrary, you’re being charitable by showing him he’s sinning by impurity and you’ll save him from going to hell.” 

So I was at my desk during class looking like this: