#I definitely need to unpack my internalized ableism

[cherrysnax]

hello hi howdy what do u do when feel ur like brain deteriorating asking for a friend

[chronicallycouchbound]

A Guide for Coming into Disability

Note: While this is meant to serve as a guide for people who are becoming physically disabled and people newly recognizing their existing experiences of disability (including chronic illness), I feel that this guide is helpful for anyone, disabled or abled. No guide is one size fits all, but I hope this can help supplement other resources that exist.

Recognizing Disability

The first aspect of coming into disability is conceptualizing what disability means for you. Some initial questions to consider are:

What is disability?

What does it mean to be disabled?

How do you identify disability in yourself or others?

Only you can define what these mean for yourself, but many definitions and models of disability exist.

Loss & Grief

As you begin to transition into a disabled body, the first sign of that change is often the experience of loss. Loss of ability, access to the world, hobbies, community, loved ones, and your sense of self are just some of the types of loss you might be experiencing. Additionally, when being a part of any marginalized community, you are now not only beginning to experience the trauma of discrimination that you’re personally facing but you are also exposed to a communal trauma of systemic marginalization.

Due to the ableist society we live in, every single person is internalizing ableism. Everything we see on the news, in movies, in classrooms, etc. is absorbed subconsciously to create a personalized narrative of the disabled experience. Weather or not that ableism is externalized doesn’t matter, because if you’re not actively dismantling internalized ableism and practing anti-ableism, then that ableism will hit you much harder when you transition into disability. The work to navigate this is constant, evolving and will change with time.

All of this is very heavy. Always unpacking, always processing, always grieving. But it does get easier to navigate, especially with the proper supports. To cope with this, I highly recommend seeking out appropriate support groups (many are online, Facebook, Discord, The Mighty are some great places to look) and considering grief counseling. Through this, remember to be gentle with yourself, cut off people if you need to, set boundaries, and do what you need to to support yourself and keep yourself safe.

Spoon Theory in Practice

A large portion of my disabled experience is simply just learning. Learning about my body, treatments, my limitations, and what I can still do. This dynamic learning often requires more language to explain complex concepts. This brings us to the spoon theory. If you don’t yet know about spoon theory, here’s the original essay by Christine Miserandino.

Spoon theory works to help explain the energy limitations of chronic illness and has been widely adopted by the greater disabled community. Essentially, it is a metaphor that uses spoons as a metric to showcase energy levels in a tangible form. Over time your spoons will change, different activities might require more or less spoons, and recharging your spoons may also evolve. This is why it’s important to use the concept of spoon theory to help you set boundaries with yourself and others.

For yourself, being able to identify your spoon levels and use them appropriately to ration energy can help you avoid falling into pitfalls like the “Boom-Bust Cycle” and better pace yourself. I put this into practice by creating lists rating activities by spoon levels. I have a master list of meals I can eat, categorized by how many spoons it usually takes to make the meal. This way, I can plan out in advance on low spoon days, like when I have PT, and know I won’t have the energy to cook a meal that takes three spoons to make, I can meal plan for the week and buy what I need for a one spoon meal that day. This can also be applied to things like chores and hobbies. I sort my to-do list by priority, and then by how many spoons it will take to do the activity. Knowing your spoon levels can assist in setting boundaries with others as well. I always have a standing appointment on Tuesdays, so I never make plans that day. I always ask for help with certain chores because even if I physically can get them done, I won’t have spoons for the rest of the day or even the week.

Accepting Disability

In order to cope with the loss of certain activities, finding accessible alternatives can go a long way. You might be able to find an adaptive way to still participate in a hobby, like adaptive basketball. There are also so many options for hobbies in the world, and you might be surprised by what works for you now! This is a good time to start to focus on what you can do, with adaptations, vs what you used to be able to/now can’t do.

Mobility aids are a beautiful tool. My advice is if you think that an aid might help you, you should at least try it! If it ends up not helping, or you don’t need it, you can always donate it. I also like to say (and my physical therapist likes to remind me) Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

And, of course, ask for help before your body demands it.

Disabled Liberation & Disabled Joy

If you have the spoons and time, you should prioritize learning about our history as a community (Crip Camp on Netflix is a great place to start) Additionally, you can learn about disability theory, models of disability, ugly laws, cripple punk movement, and our rights.

Disabled Joy is a concept that considers our joy to be a revolutionary act in and of itself. I use ‘joy’ here, rather than happiness, because while similar, happiness is based in the root word ‘hap’ meaning chance (as in mishap and happenstance), meaning that the experience itself is based in luck and external factors, and focus instead on the sensation associated with it– regardless of your situation, which is joy. Disabled joy looks like my partner sprinting while pushing me down the sidewalk with the wind in my face. It looks like a perfect day in Sims 4. It comes with safe foods and the healing power of accessible plauygrounds. You find it where it comes, and I hope you can find it in yourself.

Finding Community

The best part of the disabled experience, for me, is our thriving community. When it comes to community building, I always suggest online options first because they’re available 24/7 for most people, and you can reach community from your home. I’ve already mentioned online support groups, but also, online content creators are a great way to find community. If your social media following list is primarily able-bodied creators, especially ones who focus on activities that aren’t accessible to you, it can be really damaging to your mental health. This can help you to find friends who get what you're going through.

Self-advocacy and systemic advocacy resources from our peers and organizations can give you the tools and feel empowered to create change. Seeking resources by and for our community can be lifesaving. You’re reading one right now.

Welcome to the community.

♿️❤️ (wheelchair emoji, heart emoji)

[museumgiftshoperaser]

some thoughts on disability in fanfiction

I have so many thoughts about the common “trope” within the stranger things fandom to give specifically Steve a disability in fanfiction. A lot of my thoughts on this are mixed in with my own complicated feelings about becoming (physically) disabled over the past few years. Which is why i have a hard time writing about it objectively or maybe even fairly. Because some of it brings up a lot of negative emotions regarding ableism I’ve personally experienced. And I’m also still unpacking a lot of internalized ableism so maybe I’m not (yet) able to critique some of this stuff properly. And obviously a lot of these stories are written by people who deal with these (or any) disabilities themselves as a way to explore the topic. I love those! I think writing is such an excellent way of exploring your own feelings. So any of my critisisms aren’t about people using (fan)fiction to write about their own experiences. I’ve read some absolutely incredible works about this topic!!

A lot of these pieces of fanfic featuring Steve with a disability (you typically see either being HOH, having epilepsy or migraines) tend to fall within the larger hurt/comfort trope. And that makes sense, I guess. I also understand the need/desire for disabled people to read or write stories about characters being comforted through the struggles of disability. But I find that often these stories, especially when written by able bodied people, can fall into some harmful tropes.

The main issue that comes up for me is the romanticization of taking away bodily autonomy of the disabled person. The character, most often Steve in this case, is written as struggling with a disability and having a hard time coming to terms with this and then another character “forces” them to get better or accept help and by doing so takes away their agency in the situation. I don’t care if it’s “”the right thing to do”” or “”he really needed someone to help him”” if you’re taking away someone’s autonomy in a situation that’s kinda fucked up. (there’s some nuance there in cases of severe mental health issues where someone might hurt themselves, but even there autonomy is incredibly important and I’m largely talking about physical disability here). This also includes a lack of autonomy in who gets to know about a characters disability and how they find out. Disabled people aren’t owed anyone info about their health and people learning about it against someone’s will can be very upsetting. Another prominent trope is using disability as a way to explore self-sacrificial elements of Steve’s character. It’s the ‘he always cares for other people first and forgets to care for himself’-thing that is often explored with his character. Writers will turn this character trait on its head by ‘giving’ Steve a disability and thus forcing him to reckon with needing and being deserving of care. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that as an idea. I think many people who become disabled struggle with asking for help and feelings of guilt surrounding this. Which is what makes this a difficult concept to critique. I have a hard time puting into words exactly what rubs me the wrong way about this. But let me just say there is definitely a difference between attempts at exploring disability and turning disabled people into poor little babies who can’t do anything for themselves and oh isn’t that just so sad? Especially when a story lacks correct information about what a disabled person would or would not be able to do themselves. There’s also so much infantilization going on in those cases.

And there’s obviously disabled people with (very) high support needs, but pity and infantilization is never an appropriate reaction. Also! Plenty of disabled people have worked through that shit and are (no longer or were never) constantly feeling guilty about needing care! It’s a logical emotion to go through in our ableist society, but I feel like we could do with more representation of disabled people who don’t feel like horrible burdens just for existing. I say this because people irl are sometimes genuinely confused when I don’t feel bad or guilty or embarrased about asking for accomodation. There’s almost an expectation that we’re supposed to feel bad about requiring assistance and that’s pretty fucked up. I don’t want to give specific examples because I can’t think of any of the top of my head, but also because I’m not writing this to call anyone out. I feel like this fandom has correctly noticed that Steve’s had one too many hits to the head and I think the desire to explore this as a community could be a very positive thing. We should just be mindful of the actual lived experiences of disabled people and use this as an opportunity to educate ourselves about disability and ableism. Not just use it as a way to project fantasies about being cared for onto disabled people. I think that’s what sometimes can go wrong here. Able bodied people might project their desires about being doted on and cared for (VERY valid desires!) onto these characters. But disabled people have different needs and wants regarding being cared for! You often cannot copy your own desire to have a break from your insanely busy life (again, valid desire) and have someone take over for you for a little while onto disabled people without accidentaly perpetuating ableist ideas. You might also run into trouble when you project your own desire to be helpful and needed onto characters who take care of a disabled person. This can be a bit more of a gray area (imo) because caring for loved ones is obviously a great thing. I just think it’s important to keep in mind whether the focus is on wanting to be the person who helps someone and actually helping a disabled person according to their own wishes and standards. These are some very rambly thoughts, but I hope they can prompt some people to have a look at their own ways of reading and writing about disabled people. I think an absolutely necessary first step is to consider whether you are taking bodily autonomy into account, but there are many more nuances into properly writing about disabled people. There’s also always just the option of... not writing about disability if it’s not something you fully understand. Sometimes the latter might be the best route to take.

I’d loved to hear some thoughts from other disabled people!

[tarobytez]

disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant. 

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist. 

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is. 

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”. 

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me. 

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.  

Oh fucking boy. 

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully. 

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled. 

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability. 

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community. 

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged. 

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people. 

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted. 

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows. 

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

[mythicalcoolkid]

Real talk: my mental illness makes me feel really stupid. I was a gifted kid, maxing out scores on reading tests from a young age, naturally good in a lot of different areas. When my brain’s acting up it feels like I’m a completely different person. I can’t learn from experience in some areas because my brain treats imaginary threats like they’re equally dire every time they happen. I lose my vocabulary, can’t communicate, use the wrong words. I stop understanding what’s going on and can’t take care of myself. I’m constantly scared for no reason and struggling to get through invisible barriers. I believe things that no rational person would believe, often things that are in no way possible

At the time I feel stupid because I know I should be able to communicate and understand what’s happening, know I can usually do that just fine, but I just can’t. After it’s over I feel stupid because I was caught up in believing something that obviously wasn’t true

I know I’m still smart. I know I still have talents and I can be proud of myself. I even know that intelligence isn’t everything, that I’m still a worthwhile person even if I can’t always use my brain to its full capacity, that even if I never had the abilities I did I would still be worthwhile and valuable. It’s definitely in part internalized ableism and low self-esteem that I need to unpack. But as someone who was raised to feel like being smart and talented were my only redeeming qualities? Especially in terms of them “making up for” me being disabled? It’s really hard not to feel stupid sometimes

[fanfic-reliquary]

The Thorns of Time

Which was apparently way sooner than I thought it would be.

A month passed by of constant arguing with my family. It was a hellish experience that I'm glad I don't have to deal with anymore.

It's not like mother threatened to kill me or anything climactic like that. I just decided I had had enough.

It had been a bad day at school. I failed three tests, got in a fight with an asshole, and it all topped off with mother yelling her head off at me because I existed.

I was done.

I gathered up what little possessions I had: the money I had scraped together over the years, a bag of candy, a wooden posing doll with a bad leg, a lone poster, the music box, a flashlight, my phone and its charger, and a few other trinkets I pilfered from mother's room without care. It was enough to fit in a small backpack, so I had plenty of room for clothing and other necessities, which I would buy later. Nobody noticed me leave. Nobody cared.

You know those huge city blocks from the Judge Dredd movie? Well apartment complexes in 2078 are sort of like those but on a smaller scale. There was a big central meeting area and some commercial floors on the bottom. Before I left the building, I planned to do some shopping. With money I scraped together and from working summer jobs, as well as occasionally stealing from mother, I had accumulated around 1500 credits. I'm not going to lie, that was pretty substantial for somebody from my background.

I had also done some major research on the late 1800s at the library. Yes, libraries exist still, and yes, it's all digital. When I was taking Jonathan out of Liverpool, I had noticed that people had given me dirty looks a lot. With a little research, I realized that with the tank top and shorts that I was wearing, they thought that I was a prostitute. No more of that.

Goodwill was actually a really cool place to shop, now that it's problem with internalized ableism was cleared up. I managed to find both a few dresses and a hat that would help me fit in a little better when I went back.

Next stop was Aldi. It was where I could get the most for my credits. Even then, I only got the essentials in comfort food.

During my research, I came across something curious. Apparently I was getting into some deep shit with the Liverpool Murder ruins. It's unknown who was behind the murder or what exactly happened, but the entire mansion burned to the ground overnight. It was suspected that the incident was due to a murderer turned arsonist that also struck on a steamboat headed to the Americas a few years later.

But I digress. My last stop was my father's warehouse. Dad was an arms dealer, so everybody at the place knew me well. They wouldn't think twice if I went in and looked around.

Dad specialized in disguised melee weapons. While guns and stuff were outlawed after the Republican Massacre of 2019, knives and other weapons weren't, and for some reason flamethrowers were included in melee. Dad always believed that the element of surprise was your greatest ally in a war, so he disguised his weapons as instruments. Stun batons as drumsticks, flamethrower as guitars, etc. They all functioned as their designated instruments too. Most of the electrical stuff had Iridium Tech batteries, meaning that they lasted years without needing a charge. My phone had one too, so I wouldn't need to worry about losing a charge.

In the back of the warehouse was where the weapons were made. I picked up some drumsticks and a small acoustic guitar that had white lead lined casing. For those that don't know, white lead, or Pseudolatticeleadenite, was a type of material similar to microlattice. It's as light as a feather but packs a huge punch if swung hard enough. It's been known to literally split heads.

Once I got everything together and I felt ready to move, I changed into the Cream dress and walked to the center of the area. I took out my music box and stuck Arabesque no 1 in the slot. As the encouraging notes echoed through the box, the lights filled my vision, and I found myself on top of the hill to the Liverpool mansion.

And immediately soaked with rain.

Apparently August 16, 1881 had been a thunderstorm of epic proportions and I had no idea. As I made my way to the mansion, I continually slipped and tripped in the gravel, covering myself in mud and rocks.

When I finally got to the front door, I was a mess. I doubt they could hear me if I knocked, but I had to try.

I knocked on the door. No answer. Just as I was about to knock again, the door swung open.

It was Dio.

He was a little older now, 13 or so I would estimate. While he looked physically the same, he had a different look in his eye, a sharper one. This wasn't the young boy I had stolen alcohol for.

"What kind of insane tax collector are you to go collecting in this weather?" He said. His words were cold and barbed.

"Dio? Is that you?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "We've never met. You must mistake me for someone else."

"No, we've definitely met. Four years ago I took you to my time and gave you bottles of liquor to replace the ones I broke by accident."

"I, Dio, do not remember such a thing."

Does he really not remember me? I mean I know for him it's been four years, but still...

"Dio, who's at the door in this weather?" A voice from inside called.

"Just a strange woman. She might be a tax collector."

I heard walking towards the door.

"I'll take it from here." George said, and he appeared at the door.

"Sherri! It's a pleasure to see you after all these years."

"Likewise. I wish I could be here on more pleasant business." I said, shaking his hand.

"You're not just here to visit?"

"No. I'm afraid that my family has finally collapsed under the circumstances. I'm pretty sure I left before things got dangerous, but I'm not sure."

"Well don't just stand there, it's pouring! Come in." He said, and widened the door.

The mansion hadn't changed at all since I saw it last. That was great and all, but that mask was still there, still giving me the creeps.

"I'm so sorry for the state of my attire, I got caught in the rain."

"No need to make an excuse, traveling in this weather must have been awful." He said, and I followed him down a long corridor and down a flight of stairs. We stopped at a room just below the stairs, which he unlocked and gave me the key to.

"Here's your room."

It was larger than the one back home. Then again, I practically lived in a closet back home. There was a single bed in the corner, a small desk adjacent to it, a bookshelf next to the bed, a small wooden closet, the walls were made out of brick, and a small oil lamp sat on the desk. The floor was carpeted gray.

"Once again, thank you so much for this opportunity. I owe you my life today." I said.

"It's the least I could do, Sherri. I know we discussed that you will only be temporarily occupying this room, but I don't want you to feel pressured to leave. You can stay here as long as you need to."

I nodded, and I was left alone with myself. Starting tomorrow, I was going to start working with the servants. This was something that I had decided to do on my own. It would keep my mind occupied while I looked for a house of my own. I worked so many hours back home that if I wasn't working on something at all times I would get fidgety. Then I would start thinking about unpleasant things.

Like why Dio hadn't remembered me. Did it have something to do with time travel? Or was he just so young when we first met that he just doesn't remember me?

As I started to unpack, I thought more about other issues. Would Jonathan recognize me? What if he didn't? Why did Dio act so cold now? Come to think of it, why was he here? Had he been offered a similar deal to me? Had he gotten away from his previous situation?

I fell asleep with these questions plaguing my mind.

(Another short, transitional chapter.)