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Spider Webs - 3. Chapter 3: The First Thread
By Linxe Termoil
After we left the courthouse, I discovered it was Thursday. I had been in jail for six days. I'm pretty sure two years and a couple of weeks wouldn't have killed me, if it meant I didn't have to stay with this woman, her family, or see Patrick and his leering green eyes ever again. Joel was trying to talk to me but I was tuning him out in favor of watching the cars driving past us.
I had no idea where we were going. Home, I guess. At least, that's where Joel said we were going. I'm not sure I believed him. They say home is where the heart is. My heart was with my mom, and she was buried six feet under the ground back in Oregon. After she had died my heart had been with Joel and my dad, at least until I realized I couldn't do anything for my dad. Dad was going to have to figure out his own problems. That just left me Joel. I needed to figure out what I was going to do for Joel and me.
Mrs. Windleton pulled up outside of the Kitsap County Juvenile Correction facility. I watched as she got out of the van.
"Wait here kids," she instructed us, "I'll be right back...I hope."
She went into the building and left the three of us, unsupervised, in her van. I wondered how many other kids she had besides that one boy that had been there when I'd attempted to borrow Mr. Windleton's Ferrari. Then I heard it, the main source of my ire breathing too loudly. I looked at Patrick and found him already staring at me.
"Uh...Hi, I'm..." he began to say.
I scowled at him.
...
...
...
Then I slugged him in the stomach for no other reason than the fact that I felt like it. Besides, he had pissed me off when he decided, for whatever reason, to lie to that judge. After that, I turned around and looked out the front of the van, only to find Joel looking at me.
"Micah...NO! Behave yourself," he told me.
"He started it," I replied.
Joel frowned at me.
"What'd he do?" Joel asked.
"For starters he lied to that judge,"
"I think you need a better reason than that to hit someone," Joel said.
Joel had a point. I'd always told him that if he was going to hit someone he should have more than one reason for it. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of much else that Patrick had done to me, aside from stare at my ass a lot. But I'll admit it; that had been more of a turn on then anything else.
"He's breathing!" I finally replied. Then I turned around and looked out my side of the van again, ignoring the two of them. It was a good thing too, I guess, because I spotted Elizabeth heading back to the van.
"Well sorry for breathing," came the muttered reply next to me.
I don't think I was supposed to hear him, but I did and I turned my head just enough to see Joel shoot Patrick an amused look. Then the little twerp actually had the nerve to start apologizing to him for my behavior. That just annoyed me even more, so I turned around and slugged Patrick in the stomach again.
Except, I think I over did it, the punching thing, I mean. He leaned forward; his face turned red and kind of green. Gross. He was totally going to throw-up inside of the van. I scooted away from him and pulled my feet off the floor, until they were underneath me and I was sitting on top of them. Then I looked out of the van again.
The driver's side door opened and Elizabeth's arms popped onto the inside of the van as she attempted, apparently, to hand me my stuff that she had retrieved from the facilities. I ignored her and, leaning my head against the glass, closed my eyes most of the way and pretended to sleep. I saw Joel shoot me an annoyed look. He grabbed my stuff from her. The van shifted around a little bit as she got inside and I watched her turn around when she heard Patrick wheezing for breath next to me.
"You okay Patri..." she started to say. Then she went quiet. "Awww, he's sleeping," I heard her whisper, "Doesn't he look so cute?"
What? Seriously, lady, I was not some whiny brat in diapers fresh out of the hospital to be fawned over. She started the van up and we started moving again. Patrick stopped wheezing.
"Yeah, he's about as cute as a poisonous snake slithering through baby shit," I heard Patrick mumble. Did this kid never shut up? The van came to a stop as Mrs. Windleton waited for traffic to clear up.
"What was that, Patrick?" I heard her ask.
"Oh, I..."
I opened my eyes and quickly leaned over and slugged him in the stomach...again.
"Umph," Patrick grunted.
I wanted to laugh. Really, I did. But that would have blown my cover, so I just closed my eyes and ignored the look that Joel kept giving me.
"Patrick, honey, are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," he wheezed, "Just got a sore stomach. Think I ate something rancid this morning."
He wishes. I was good though; I ignored him this time.
"Oh, well, just keep still honey, we'll be home in no time and I'll let your grandma know. She can call you in for the rest of the day."
"Thanks, Elizabeth," Patrick wheezed in reply.
"No problem, and keep it down a little, please. We don't want to wake Micah up,"
I opened an eye. Joel was still staring at me. I turned my head a little and saw Patrick looking at me.
"Nope, definitely not," he replied faintly. I smirked and closed my eyes again. Mrs. Windleton started driving toward whatever destination she had in mind again. And then I really did fall asleep.
* * * * * * * *
Someone was shaking me, and I really wanted them to stop. Except they didn't and I finally opened my eyes enough to see what the hell was going on, annoyed like crazy. Only, it was the crazy nice lady that was doing all the shaking. Thankfully, she stopped when I opened my eyes. That might have been because I was glaring at her though.
"Oh, good," Elizabeth mumbled, "You're awake."
I just shot her a look that, I hoped, said it all. You're the master of the obvious, ain'cha.
"C'mon, we're home," she finally said after a moment. Then she was turning around and walking away from the van.
Home?
I snorted. This place, wherever it was, wasn't home. But I decided that now wasn't the time to argue with her. So I got out of the van and started following her. Then the size of the house caught me off guard, and I found myself stopping just so I could gawk.
Her house was freaking huge, made of brown stone with a porch that wrapped around the entire, well...castle. That was the only word I could think of to describe the place. My old home looked like a shack compared to this place. I guess I should have known that these folks would be pretty well off, what with the Ferrari and all. But I really hadn't expected this.
Elizabeth and Patrick were looking at me. Patrick looked worried and Elizabeth looked, well, I'm not sure how she looked. I didn't have a whole lot of time to think on it because Joel grabbed my hand and started tugging me along.
We got up the stone steps and onto the wide front porch and came to a stop; waiting on Elizabeth to open the door. Unfortunately, we didn't have to wait long because she was right behind us, opening the door. A beeping sound caught my attention when she opened the door and I followed her inside with a little forceful prompting from Joel and watched as she ran her fingers across a keypad.
They had an alarm system, which I found interesting. I had never known anyone who'd had one installed in their house. I guess that's because most everyone I knew back home didn't really have the money to protect their homes, living in run down houses that were in as bad a shape as mine.
"We'll get you your own code when I go and make spare keys for the front door," Elizabeth said.
I just looked at her. I didn't get it, why was this lady being so nice to me? Why would anyone go out of their way to help out a couple of kids? No one back home would have done anything like this. It was just too strange, if you asked me. She shifted. I realized I was frowning at her, and apparently, I was making her nervous.
"Uhm, Joel...Why don't you show Micah his room and the rest of the house?" she asked.
Joel nodded at her. Then, interestingly enough, he held out his hand and snapped his fingers at her as if she was a dog. Elizabeth pulled out a pen and a pad of paper from her purse and handed them to Joel. The sight would have made me laugh, if I had been in a good mood, but I wasn't, and I wasn't really paying much attention to them anymore either.
Even as the sound of the pen, scratching across the surface of the paper began to fill some of the silence, I walked around and started checking out the inside of the house. I couldn't help myself, I was curious to know more about this woman, but even more than that, I wanted answers as to why she would take home a criminal like me.
The living room was huge with a couple of plush chairs and matching couches that faced a large TV. A fireplace filled one wall of the room, offering another source of heat in the middle of winter. The brown and white stones offered a nice contrast to the wood flooring, even as another wall opened into the dining room with a view of a large china cabinet that was filled with glass and dishware that, even to my untrained eye, looked expensive.
Everywhere along the wall were pictures, some were paintings of scenery and faces, but most of them were photos. Some were old, done in black and white and the clothes the people wore marked the differences from one generation to the next. It was to me, an interesting layout, as the generation differences showed from one photo to another, becoming more and more recent the further I moved along until I found what I was looking for.
Photos of Elizabeth and her family; Ken, Reese, some older couples that looked like they were parents of Reese's parents, siblings, or perhaps they were cousins, and their children, grandchildren.
It was all vastly confusing to me and I couldn't make any sense of it whatsoever.
Then there were pictures of Ken, Elizabeth and Reese by themselves. Some of them were at a park and then others showed them in what seemed to be a studio. A lot of the photos that were taken at the park showed Patrick in them somewhere. That made me wonder if he was related to them somehow; perhaps a cousin or something.
Joel wondered along about then and grabbed me by the hand.
"C'mon, I'll show you around. Elizabeth said we can play the Xbox later on, too," Joel signed.
I nodded my head, not really excited at the prospect of playing something I'd only dreamed about. The fact that these people had an Xbox system only seemed to further drill a small fact into my head. It was something that I was just beginning to realize.
These people had everything; Joel and I were a charity case. I didn't want to be a charity case, and the fact that I all of a sudden was, just served to piss me off.
I didn't say anything to Joel though. I just followed him and applauded when we came to each new room. The expression on his face told me I was supposed to be thrilled with my surroundings.
And I wasn't. At least, I wasn't thrilled until he led me to a bedroom on the upper floor. It was big, with a queen sized bed that actually had a real mattress and box-spring, big fluffy looking pillows and a nice looking grey and black comforter. I rolled my eyes at him when he led me into the bedroom that had an open closet with sliding doors and a dresser that had open, empty drawers.
"What're you showing me the guest room for? They probably have me sleeping in the cellar," I muttered. I couldn't help it.
Joel shot me an annoyed look.
"No stupid, they don't have a cellar. The basement is kind of nice though. This is your bedroom. Mine's down the hall and Reese is next door while Elizabeth and Ken are downstairs," Joel informed me.
"Oh," I mumbled.
"Glad you're speaking again," he told me.
"It's temporary, so don't get used to it." I tried keeping my voice down. For all I knew Elizabeth or Patrick might be lurking around the corner, spying, and I just wasn't ready to start talking yet.
I was in a wait-and-see mode. At least, for now. As far as I was concerned I'd be running out on them the first chance I could get. You probably want to know why, right? The answer was simple, really. You see, they weren't my family.
"This is my room, then?" I asked Joel.
He nodded his head at me. "I just said that, didn't I?" he replied, rolling his eyes at me.
I smirked at him, and then I turned him around and propelled him out the door.
"What are you doing?" he asked me.
"Taking another nap," I replied. I promptly shut the door on him and, turning around, took the six steps necessary to make it to the bed where I allowed myself to fall face first. I think I was asleep before my head even hit the pillows.
* * * * * *
The house was empty and I was annoyed. Probably wondering what got my undies in a twist, huh? That's the thing, see, I wasn't wearing underwear. In all actuality, I wasn't wearing anything. That's what my problem was. I had no clothes, even though my dad's truck was in the backyard by the barn or garage, or something. But, none of my stuff was in it. The guitars and amp were gone. So were all my clothes that I hadn't thrown in the trashcan at the mall. Joel's stuff was nowhere to be found either.
I'd taken a shower after I had woken up and, since I didn't want to ruin the nice clothes Avery had given me, I'd hung them up. The clothes I had been arrested in smelled moldy, most likely from being stuck in a humid locker room for over a week. In those clothes, I had found a note from Ronald along with something else: he had bought me a new shirt exactly like the one that had been torn in my fight with him. I should send him a thank you note, or something.
But for now, I was walking around an empty house in nothing but a towel. I'd found my guitars and my amp. They were in the basement, in an area that looked like a family room. There were a couple of more spare bedrooms off the family room.
The house really was big. Besides Joel and Reese's bedrooms upstairs, I'd found a tidy little office lined wall to wall with bookshelves, all of which were overflowing with, you guessed it, books.
But that still didn't solve my problem: Lack of clothes.
Damn it, I could only think of one reason as to why I had none of my other clothes. That woman had taken them to make sure I wouldn't run off. Fine, if she wanted a naked teenager running around in her house then I wasn't going to object. It was kind of flattering, actually, just so long as she didn't expect me to do nasty things with her in the bedroom.
My belly rumbled about then and I gave up on the search for any more of my clothes. I went downstairs and raided the kitchen. Once I found the ice cream and enough soda to give me a buzz for a week I was out in the living room, feet propped up on the coffee table, eating from the container of ice cream like I hadn't eaten in a week and flipping through the TV stations until I finally found something worth watching. I didn't pay any attention to it though.
I was too busy thinking. Trying to figure out what these people wanted from me. Ultimately, I ended up deciding that I didn't really care. I'd set out from my dad's house with my little brother so I could take care of us, and that's what I was going to do, and if anybody got in my way, well, they could just kiss my ass. I heard the front door open.
"Elizabeth, I'm home!" a voice rang behind me.
I twisted my head and peered over the couch in the direction of the voice and spotted Ken, the man whose car I had tried stealing. He was dressed in plain jeans and a polo shirt that showed off his hairy arms and muscular chest.
Behind him was his son, Reese, who had been there the night I had been arrested. He was dressed in shiny basketball shorts and a white t-shirt that clung tightly to his body. His short, brown hair was spiked up in the front. A necklace of white puka shells was hanging around his skinny neck.
He actually looked kind of hot, but I imagined he'd look even hotter if he'd ditch the shirt and, maybe even the rest of his clothes. I didn't dwell on the subject too much though. After all, I was supposedly going to be living with the guy now. I doubted his mom would appreciate it much if I started shagging her kid the first chance I could get, even if the idea was appealing. Besides, I wasn't going to be sticking around. I'd be out of there before dawn.
And since I wasn't going to let these people know I was curious about them, I did the one thing I could think of. I turned my attention back to the TV and ignored the fact that they were there.
"Hey Joel," a voice, Reese's I presumed, greeted.
I heard his feet on the stairs a moment later. I guess he was going to his room.
"Joel! Reese! I'll be out working on that truck if you need anything from me," Ken shouted even as he disappeared.
Heh. How interesting. I was, once more, by myself and I was bored. I dipped my spoon back into the ice cream and started eating, my attention tuned into the TV again. Only, that got boring and I started flipping through channels, watching one for a few minutes, and then flipped to the next station. It was fascinating to me, seeing how many pointless channels there were to TV, all of them the same, boring thing. I guess now I could see why Dad said TV really wasn't important, unless football or NASCAR or some other sports was on TV.
It was some time later when I dipped my spoon into the tub of ice cream and it came up empty that I became aware of something. I was no longer alone. Instead, Reese and his dad, Ken, were in the living room behind me. They were staring at me as if I had tentacles growing out of my head. It definitely made me uncomfortable, and we all ended up staring at each other like, well, like we didn't know what to make of the whole situation. I was in a towel and they were completely clothed. Thank God I didn't blush though, because that would have definitely made me uncomfortable, and I'd be damned if I let them know that.
Instead I just put the tub of ice cream down on the coffee table, propped my feet up and made sure that my towel covered my nether regions; then I went back to ignoring them. Ignoring them didn't work very well for long though. I heard the front door open again and next thing I know, Joel was standing next to Ken and Reese; staring at me. Patrick was right behind him. Only he took things a step further and actually sat down on the other couch where he would, at least in my mind, have a good view up my towel.
Then Elizabeth was there.
"Hi guys. You remember Micah, don't you?" she asked.
I saw Dumb and Dumber nod their heads for a couple of seconds. Patrick just continued to drool as he stared up my towel. Then Elizabeth looked at me for a couple of seconds.
"Crap, we need to get you some clothes, don't we?" she asked.
Most of us nodded our heads in agreement with that statement. Patrick shook his head. I almost laughed when Reese hit Patrick on the arm, which only served to confuse Ken, as best I could guess, because he seemed to do a double take between his kid... kids?
I didn't know. But... whatever. The fact was, I was the center of attention, and it was making me uncomfortable, no matter how gratifying the attention was.
"Right, I'll go get dinner started. Why don't the rest of you go help Joel bring the groceries in; Ken, could you find some clothes for Micah to wear? I'll take him shopping in the morning."
It was impressive, seeing how quickly she took charge of the household. But something she had said seemed to make everyone else panic; I only noticed though because Patrick snapped his head around to look at her. He stood up and made to move. I figured he was trying to escape helping with the groceries or something; hell, I sure as hell would have.
"Patrick, you're staying for dinner, aren't you? It's been ages since you've been around or stayed over. I already cleared it with your mom," Mrs. Windleton stated. She flashed a smile at Patrick. Patrick for his part just swallowed and nodded his head. Mrs. Windleton turned around and headed for the kitchen. Patrick's body seemed to slump. Reese was behind him laughing.
"It really has been a long time since we've seen you. And, you're always running away from me in school. What's up with that?" I heard Reese whisper to Patrick.
"Uh..." Ken stated. He followed after his wife.
Patrick and Reese walked away, heading outside to help Joel with the groceries, I guess.
"...I thought we'd order out tonight, you know," I heard Ken's voice in the kitchen.
"Relax, it'll be fine. No worries, I promise. I'm just making spaghetti," Elizabeth replied.
"Oh..."
I didn't hear the rest of the conversation. Apparently, if anyone were going to find me clothes, it would be me. I walked upstairs and found Reese's bedroom and raided his closet. I found a pair of tight fitting nylon shorts; you know, the kind bicyclists wear that show off their crotch really nicely, and a shirt that seemed to be two sizes too small. It was a tight fit, but it would have to do for now.
Then I made myself disappear. At least, I tried to. I didn't really want to be around these people, and I figured perhaps I could talk with Joel later, but I still needed to figure out what I was going to do myself before I could face him. I just didn't think telling him that we were running off again without a plan would be a good idea.
I ended up in the basement, staring at the two guitars. One of them was my electric guitar; the other was my mom's acoustic guitar that she'd had since she was just a girl. She'd taught me to play on that one, when I was just a little kid. Younger then Joel, even. I think I might have been six when she started teaching me how to play. But she'd taught me the piano first; I must have been four when I started learning that.
She had always said music was her heart, next to Joel and me. That, no matter what, the music would never go away. But she had lied. To me, the music was gone, and I would never get those peaceful moments I'd had with her back again.
I reached out, grabbed my mom's guitar, and found myself strumming the strings gently. Even as I did so, I found myself wincing. The guitar was horribly out of tune. I guess that's what happens when you haven't played in awhile.
I put her guitar down and started tuning my electric guitar, plugging it into the amp and pumping up the volume some until I was happy with the way the strings sounded. I would have stopped then; but I wasn't ready to put the guitar down just yet. I just kept playing; I was so focused on the notes that I was no longer aware of anything going on around me. I just kept playing, picking away at tunes I had long ago memorized.
It was with amusement that I finally came to a song that seemed to fit me so well.
It was "Behind Blue Eyes", played by The Who. I closed my eyes and played, even as the words came to mind.
No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man
To be the sad man, behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like,
To be hated, to be fated, to telling only lies
......
No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man
To be the sad man, behind blue eyes
I let the chords fade into nothing, keeping my eyes closed while I continued to think about the lyrics. I was the sad man, behind blue eyes. And I missed my mom.
A throat cleared behind me. I whirled around; startled because I hadn't heard anyone come down the stairs. It was Reese. I saw his eyes widen slightly when he realized I was wearing his clothes. I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to say something.
It wasn't my fault that his mom had thrown my clothes away. Sure, they hadn't been in the greatest condition, but they were still mine; and after I was done with them, I would have passed them on to Joel, even if I had worn them all down. Reese didn't say anything though, just kind of grinned at me and nodded his head in a way that all kids did. I didn't acknowledge it though. It was with a small frown on his face that he told me what he wanted.
"Dinner's ready," he said.
I nodded at him and set my guitar down. Turning the amplifier off I turned around, still surprised to see him standing there; He was looking at me as if I was a puppy who needed to be shown the way. That annoyed me to no end. I was pretty sure I could find my way back up the stairs and into the kitchen. I proved it too. I just ignored the eager look on his face and walked past him, right into the kitchen.
Joel and Patrick were already seated on one side of the table. I sat down across from Joel while Reese sat on my right, across from Patrick. I'll admit it; I mostly did it because Patrick looked like he was too happy to see me. I didn't want to encourage him or help him get his hopes up. Sure, I was gay, and sure, he was cute; but he'd just end up with a broken heart. I had no intention of staying here; like I said before, I'd be gone before sunrise the next morning.
I looked around and noticed that no one else had filled their plates yet. A bowl of noodles and another bowl of sauce were set out on the table next to parmesan cheese. Everyone else was looking between the food and the living room where Elizabeth and Ken were apparently having a conversation. And from the sounds of it, it was about me. I rolled my eyes; of course, it was about me. Whatever, if they wanted to fight about my presence that was fine, besides, Ken was right, she should have talked to him about getting custody of me first. It looked like everyone else was more intent on listening to the argument going on in the other room rather than eat. I was starving; I had no qualms about eating without everyone at their designated spot.
I reached out and ladled the noodles and meat-filled sauce onto my plate.
"Uh," Reese's voice interrupted me. My stomach rumbled.
I looked at him and raised my eyebrow. But he never finished whatever it was he was going to say. He just eyeballed me; the scraping of utensils against porcelain caught our attention. I turned away from him and saw Joel and Patrick serving up their plates.
Reese sighed. "You guys must have a death wish or something," he muttered.
I ignored his comment, but I found it curious that he would say something like that. Were his parents really that hardcore about everyone eating together?
"Yeah, we must but, I'm starving," Patrick mumbled next. I found myself staring at him. Joel was looking at him too. Reese sighed again.
"Me too," Reese confessed. Then he dished his own plate with food, although it was a really tiny pile of noodles and sauce.
Well, apparently, these kids had impressionable minds; it was interesting that I had somehow become their leader.
"Me three," Joel added. I smiled at him. Reese giggled. I looked at him and, to my amusement, saw that he was copying Joel's hand-signs while looking at Patrick.
"He said, ‘Me three,'" Patrick translated for him. He was also, slowly, repeating the movements for Reese's benefit until he got it.
How annoying. I rolled my eyes. Joel, from under the table, kicked me. I glared at him. My stomach growled, reminding me of its demand for sustenance. I shrugged and grabbing my fork, got as big a forkful as possible. I shoved the food into my mouth.
I immediately started gagging.
The table broke out into giggles.
I grabbed a glass of water that had been set on the table and downed it to help swallow the odd tasting food. But I did, indeed, swallow it.
"Yup, if it's not raw meat, undercooked noodles that are still crunchy when you chew on 'em, it's something else," Reese started saying between giggles.
"Yup," Patrick said next.
"My mom really can't cook," Reese finished saying.
"Not just spaghetti either," Patrick added, his own giggles followed Reese's. Joel was sitting across from me with his head on the table, apparently dying from a fit of silent laughter.
"She can't cook anything," Reese piled his own comment on top of Patrick's.
"And," Patrick slammed his head into the table. His shoulders were heaving up and down as he finally broke down and, no longer able to speak, gave in to his own fit of laughter.
"My dad's no better," Reese finally managed to spit out. His head landed on the table next; his hands clutched around his waist as if he was holding on for dear life.
Patrick looked up from the table and managed to get his giggles under control for a moment.
"He really isn't," Patrick added. Then he gave in again as the table was consumed by more laughter. Joel was on the other side of the table from me banging his hand against the table. Tears were streaming down his cheek.
I couldn't help it. It was just too funny, and the way Patrick and Reese talked in a coordinated manner was even kind of cute. I gave in and just started laughing.
My head was on the table when we were interrupted.
"What is going on in here?" Ken's voice asked that question.
"Oh, sorry guys, we didn't mean for you to start without us," Elizabeth said next.
We stopped giggling and I saw Elizabeth nudge Ken in the side. Then she took her seat at one end of the table while Ken took his seat at the other. A couple of giggles escaped from Patrick and Reese; but subsided after a couple of curious looks from Elizabeth and Ken.
I was biting my own lip in anticipation myself. I don't know what had happened to the spaghetti sauce, but it tasted awful. I didn't have long to wait. While we picked at the food on our plates, Elizabeth and Ken each took a rather large bite out of the spaghetti.
The reaction was instantaneous. Ken choked for a moment but managed to swallow his food. Elizabeth didn't even do that, she just spit it out all over the table.
I started laughing again. Everyone else started laughing too; except Ken and Elizabeth.
"I don't know what happened," I heard Elizabeth whine.
"Me neither. I watched you make it! There was only one minute there where I had my back turned," Ken's own whine answered her.
That just set me off even more. The sound of a chair scraping away from the table greeted me next and the next minute I heard a rather loud groan. I looked up to see Elizabeth holding a box in her hand. I started laughing even harder; even as Ken's own deep laughter started in next.
"I'll call the Chinese place," he managed to throw out a second later.
She had put baking soda in the spaghetti sauce.
I got up from the table and threw my food away. I never saw the suspicious looks suddenly being cast my way; all I caught was Joel's smug glance in the end when I turned around after washing my plate off.
Uh-oh.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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