⋆. 𐙚 ˚ tiff ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

• There’s a thickness in the air. It’s cloying. The humidity makes it feel like the air itself is sticking to you. The sweat pours down your face and into your eyes.

• You drive by the same houses every day. The same people sit in their front porch swings. They have a vacant look in their eyes. They’ve been here for as long as you can remember. Sitting. Watching. Waiting.

• No one goes into the woods on the edge of town anymore. We try to forget the disappearances. We try to normalize the dismembered animals. The folks on the edge of town deny that when they take their dinner scraps out to the woods at night it’s actually an offering. Feeding stray animals, they say. But we all know. The woods are hungry. The woods don’t forget. They will take.

• Your neighbor’s farm animals have been falling sick. Those that make it long enough to mate give birth to babies that are… wrong. Stillborns. Extra limbs. Concave heads. Some even coming out with no eyes. When they leave their mother, they come out screaming. Even the stillborns. Even the ones that barely make it past their first breaths. They all scream. They don’t want to exist here.

• A car passes through every once in a while. Someone taking the scenic route. Everyone watches. A twinge of what looks like jealousy in their eyes. Those people get to leave. We aren’t so lucky.

• We’ve been issued a warning for a drought. It hasn’t rained in weeks. Maybe months. Maybe years. We don’t know anymore. We don’t remember what rain feels like. The air is thick with moisture, large bruised looking clouds hanging over head. Taunting. Threatening a downpour, and never delivering. You’re starting to doubt that what you’re hearing is thunder, but there’s still lightning.

• The weather channel spoke of a full moon tonight. You don’t get your hopes up. This town hasn’t seen the moon in a long time. The moon and stars turned their backs on us long ago.

• The darkness coupled with the incessant screaming of the cicadas can be disorienting at night. It’s easy to lose your way. The town looks different at night. Almost unrecognizable. Almost like you’re somewhere else. Almost. But we know that can’t be true. No one ever leaves.

• Everyone has a hunting rifle in their home. Sometimes people leave with them, but where do they go? We don’t go to the woods anymore. What are they hunting? They always come back with sunken, shell shocked eyes and dirty knuckles. Many of them never speak again. People stopped asking questions long ago.

by marceline2174

by marceline2174

but like…Becky, of course LGBTQ+ people existed before Stonewall. We’ve all existed since the beginning of time. But the movement got a shock to its senses, a jump-start, a rocket-into-space when that glass shattered via Marsha P. Johnson, and when Sylvia Rivera was up on-stage protesting guess who was on the sidelines heckling her?

Without a trans black woman, LGBT+ rights would not exist. Never forget. Never “pay it no mind”.

>You see an old man walking down the road and he nods. He never asks for a ride. The next day he is found dead. You see him later that night and he is never mentioned again

>A dog will show up in your yard late at night. You may acknowledge it with a nod but you must never leave the safety of your home to greet it. It will be gone it the morning and you just pray you never see it again.

>There are churches everywhere. Half of them are abandoned. Sometimes you see a figure in the window. Its better not to question it.

>Was that building here yesterday? You aren’t sure. No one else knows because they are too afraid to ask.

>There is an animal on the road. You swerve to avoid it. Once it looks at you, you notice it is already dead. It nods in thanks.

>The cicadas scream at you. You must never leave when the are calling for you. The next morning you will open your door to find their shells everywhere.

>An old man says he knew your father once. He smiles and he has no teeth. You do not know this man.

>Screaming comes from the woods. Everyone assures you it’s just a coyote. You’ve never seen a coyote in your woods.

>There is a house on your street. A family moves in. They are gone by the next week. A new family moves in. The cycle repeats.

>A new student shows up at your school. They are gone the next day. No one speaks about them. You aren’t sure if they were real.

>No one has said ‘Roll Tide’ in a couple minutes. Everyone is nervous. Someone mutters a quiet ‘roll tide’ A ‘war eagle’ answers in response. A war begins.

>The gas station is under new management again. Their eyes aren’t human. Everyone ignores it in favor of the gas prices.

>Everyone is afraid. No one knows why.

>The bugs speak to you. You respond. You are safe for another day.

>You drive up to the window of the news Dunkin’ Donuts only to be handed a Diet Mountain Dew. This is not what you ordered. “No refunds at the window,” the cashier says, smiling too wide.

>You sit in the bleachers during the Austin-Decatur Football Game. Is it just you or has the other side started morphing into their mascots? “Black Bears!” they yell, “Red Raiders!” they yell. You start to think the heat has gone to your head.

>You go to pick up a friend on the Austin side of town. You drive past Cedar Ridge, and find only pasture. You drive some more and there is simply nothing there. Your car breaks down.

>You wake up one morning to no cat food smell. “Where’s the Meow-Mix?” you ask. You only get stares in return.

>You sit by the river at Rhodes Ferry Park, and look over to see something hanging from the bridge. You don’t know when it got there, or what it is, but you know it isn’t going to leave.

>You drive by the Rose Garden late one night and see the flash of eyes coming from inside the bushes. The stoner kids emerge from the darkness, and they all stare at you while taking long drags off their joints.

>The Austin Kids are performing Shrek: again. Legend has it it’s the only thing they’ve ever performed. “Would you like to see the show?” they ask with blank eyes.

>You go downtown to The Brick and order a Ham and Swiss. Your waitress passes you your sandwich and the meat is still dripping blood. “Eat Fresh,” she says.

>You go to the mall and only see middle aged moms. They start to tail you, and you speed towards the Belks only for them to form a barricade. “Bless your heart” they say in unison.