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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Return to Sender - 8. Chapter 8 - Kai

Introducing some supporting characters, amongst which the most inappropriate doctor you'll ever meet.

CHAPTER 8 - Kai

“Yo! Heads up, bro,” Kellan grinned as he came in with the eldest of my nephews. The boy immediately launched himself onto my bed.

“Cody!” I smiled, spreading my arms; he dove right in, knocking me back. I winced a bit; sometimes, sudden movement still lanced a shot of pain down my back. “Owww! Wow, now that’s a hug!”
It was also about a week after the minor surgery.

“Son! Not so rough with your uncle. He’s feeble, still.”

I sent my brother a glare. Feeble? Wow…jackass.

“What’s feeble?” Cody asked me.

“It’s when you’re old, like your dad - you can’t take much,” I responded dryly.

It was my brother’s turn to huff with a soft-muttered ‘fucker’. Having found love later in life, his sons were eight and ten. His wife, Ellen, was Megan’s age.

“C’mere. Gimme another hug. No, a hug, I said. What’s that; a slight bump?”

He relaunched himself around my neck. This time I was prepared and closed my arms around him, squeezing until he laughingly begged to be let go. Ha! Feeble, my ass!

Then my sister came in, smirking.

“Hi sis.”

Megan came over for a quick hug and kiss.

“Hi, hi, hi.”

She leaned back a bit. “Kellan’s right; you do look good! He said that, on the way over here. I see you got rid of the beard. Now you’re my brother again.”

I grinned, rubbing my smooth chin. “Thanks. I feel great, too. Had a great session this morning. Walked on my own around the whole gym. No support, not even the cane.”

Kellan gave me a fistbump.

“So the surgery worked? That’s awesome, man. Nice goin’!”

Yes, it was.

“When you getting out of here?”

That was actually the best news. “Well, actually…” I paused for dramatic effect. Oh, I got it. Megan’s head practically whipped my way. “If I can do that every day, for the next two weeks, Coach says I can get out of here. Go home and come in every day, instead, for therapy.”

Whoops all-round.

“They lowered the pain meds to what’s basically a couple of ibuprofen a day. I’m also off the heavy stuff, as of a few days ago.”

I was glad about that: the heavy stuff made me loopy the first couple of hours. Never been a fan of heavy pain medication - you hear so much bad stuff about that, opioid crisis and all that shit. I didn't want any of that and both Kellan and Megan knew about that as well. As soon as it was possible, I’d requested they lower the dosage or replace it with something less addicting - I didn’t like the idea of that crap in my body any longer than I had to use it. It’s nice not to feel pain, but you can also overdo things without knowing, making it worse, not better. I’d rather feel a shot of pain, like just now when my nephew jumped on me that was good pain. That, I didn’t mind. Any day, anytime. It was my body warning me to take it a bit more easy.

“Oh man, that is good news,” Kellan grinned, giving me another fistbump. I met it with force. His eyebrows shot up. “Dayum! Someone is ready to get out of here!”

“You better believe it, slick,” I grinned. “I need air. Fresh air.”

“You’ll get it,” he smiled, nodding to Megan. “She’s had that room ready for weeks now.”

“You really don’t mind?” I asked, swiveling to Megan. “I know the original idea was to go to dad’s but…”
She rolled her eyes.

“Honey, ask me that one more time and I’m gonna smack you right back into a coma.”

I laughed.

“Alright, alright. Well, sis…expect me home, then, pretty soon!”

“About fuckin’ time,” Kellan said, making sure he said it soft enough for his son not to hear. “This place is depressing.”

“Maybe we can even speed it up some more - where is that cute doctor of yours? I wanna hear it from his mouth. Not that I don’t believe you, but I really wanna hear it from him.”

**********

Two hours later, after my brother and sister had left, my surgeon sauntered into my room, plucking my chart from the bed, scanning it.

“Spoke with your sister. Bit of a hellraiser, isn’t she? She free?”

Wow. Direct.

“Most men would at least ask a few more questions.”

He just raised an eyebrow as he glanced up from my chart, then jotted something down on it.

“Most men are idiots. The questions would be for her, not you. Not interested in you.”

I grinned. I liked him. No nonsense doc. Bit rough in the mouth - I’d heard him dress down another patient, a couple of rooms down the hall for not sticking to the plan. Quite colorfully too - it had me chuckling - but I didn’t mind it.

“So?”

“She’s single. She’s got a daughter, though.”

Which was usually when prospective dates withdrew, or so my sister had told me. Some even ran, according to her.

“Good, she’s fertile. Get me her number, I like the fiery ones and I’m looking for a sequel.”

Dayum! He’d give her a run for her money for sure! Then again, Megan would give as much as she got.

“You have a good support system in place. I like that...”

I narrowed my eyes on him. There was either a ‘but’ coming or…

“Also spoke with your coach. He’s happy with your progress.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, looking down his nose, over his reading glasses. He was younger than he appeared to be. The glasses made him look older but I guessed him to be around 40? Acute intelligence spoke in his shrewd, green eyes.

“Mhm. How’s your pain? And sensations? Tingling? And don’t lie to me - I’ve seen a lot of your type in my hospital. You’re itching to get out. And I get it.”

I bet he did; he was a veteran himself and I heard tell he’d been a patient here as well. Shrapnel, as I recalled.

“It’s better, doable,” I answered, then amended by telling him about the shooting pain when my nephew jumped on me.

He waved dismissively. “I’d be more worried if you hadn’t felt anything. Your pain medication was stopped, as you requested, so you’ll feel more as your body rids itself of the effects. Show me the incision.”

Grabbing my t-shirt, I pulled it over my head and turned over.

“Healing nicely,” he mumbled, cold fingers sliding over my lower back. “Sore?”

“No.”

He pressed a little and I winced. Fuck! Tender…

“Yes.”

“Piss? Taking a dump?”

“On my own….”

“Don’t get smart with me. And I said don’t lie…”

Asshole..how did he know that?

“Couldn’t pass number two until yesterday.”

“Expected with the opioids. Been again, since?”

“Yeah, this morning.”

“Hmm, acceptable, but keep an eye on it. Any trouble, you tell the nurse. I’m happy with this. You’re looking at a couple days, tops. If your coach tells me you’re good to go, I will sign the papers and release you. End of the week.

Oh damn! Turning over, I sought his eyes.

“Really? Coach said two weeks…”

He smiled. A rare smile. I hadn’t seen him offer one before.

“Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker.”

Oh man…

“Doc…”

“Don’t go teary-eyed on me now. I need this bed for a real patient.”

Fuck off, man. Let me have my joy. I told him exactly that (including the fuck off). God, he was like that Dr. House guy from TV but with R-rated language.

“You got it,” he smiled again. This one was actually warm, genuine.

“And I do really need this bed. You can come in daily - you don’t live far away according to your sister. So there’s no need for your ass to occupy one of my beds. Set up a schedule with your coach.”

“Will do, doc. First thing tomorrow. Thank you, very very much.”

“You can thank me by giving me her number.” I laughed. He was persistent. Ah, screw it. Grabbing my phone, I scrolled to get her details and reached for a pen.

“Just show it to me.”

Frowning, I held out my phone. He looked at it, blinked once, then looked away. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to write it down?”

He tapped his temple, writing something on my chart, then hung it back on my bed.

“Eidetic memory.”

Oh wow. Never met someone who had that.

“I’ll tell her to expect your call.”

He grinned, showing me his even pearly whites. It completely changed his face! Alright, sure; he had a handsome kind of quality.

“Nuh-uh. She’s not gonna answer if you warn her. Give me…” he checked his watch, “one hour.”

I winked at him.

“You got it. Word of caution?”

He raised his chin questioningly.

“She doesn’t like to be manhandled.”

“Too late.”

Oh boy. Poor Megan.

I lay back as the door closed behind him, excited. End of the week! Five days!

**********

I was excited about this, high on the news. Not two hours ago, I told my family I'd be home in two weeks; knock off more than a week.

Of course, I called Kellan right away.

“Dude! That’s awesome!” He reacted, making me grin wide. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m off, then, so I can come pick you up.” He had alternating shifts at work, mostly working nights and evenings. It worked better with the kids. His wife, Ellen, worked mornings as a veterinarian assistant.

They recently purchased a property, housing a slew of animals; a couple of horses, cows, some pigs, sheep, several dogs and cats.

“Aww, thanks bro, you may have to. Not sure if Meg is off work, then.”

Megan worked as a home care nurse. Sometimes she worked nights but mostly mornings; it worked better with Nikki, my niece. Her ex-boyfriend, Nikki’s dad, had done a runner as soon as he heard she was pregnant. He’d never been around.

“Don’t worry about that; come hell or high water, you’re leaving that place, even if I have to carry you on my back. I’ll deck that officer at the entrance on the way out.”

I laughed at that, emotion brimming under the surface.

“Thanks man. God, I can’t wait.”

“You just do those rounds in the gym, bud. On your tippy toes if you have to. Come Friday, you’re outta there.”

It felt so good to have his support and know he was there for me.

“Love you.”
And there I went, hiccuping. Yep, there came the waterworks.

“I know, and I love you, bro. Now go tell Meg!”

I sniffled and laughed at the same time.

“Sorry…”

“Hey! None of that shit. You did your part - now we do ours. Just promise me you’ll score yourself a nice fat husband down the line and we’ll be square, aight? Two weeks in the Caribbean, his dime.”

“Aight,” I promised, inhaling through a clogged nose. Ugh! I don’t mind getting emo on my family but always when there’s no tissues - the snot, man. Yuck.

We said goodbye and I leaned back. The end was in sight.

**********

I waited out the hour, remembering my promise to Doc. Bracing myself for the inevitable verbal rebuke I was about to receive, I was amazed at her reaction; Megan was even more enthusiastic at first, happy for me - then she flipped around like a leaf on a tree.

“That bastard,” she said, “I’ve a mind and come get you right now. He was being so damn difficult, that doctor - I don’t care how cute he is.”

Doc? Cute? I guess, if you like them tall, wiry and completely bald. And I guessed he hadn’t called her yet.

“He’ll keep me here for that extra week if he knows you think he’s cute. He asked for your number,” I admitted. Sorry Doc, but you had your hour.

“Absolutely not,” she responded, huffing something fierce. Well crap. “He had the gall to question my abilities, to take care of you. I’m a trained RN, for god sake! Jerk.”

Double crap.

“Men like him need to be fixed at birth. I gave him a piece of my mind.”

Oh, I bet. I groaned inward. She was not going to be happy with me for giving him her number.

“Meg, I…”

“Ah, forget it. I’m sorry, offloading on you like that. He’s a dick. Good thing I won’t be seeing him again, I’d make that frame of his glasses a permanent fixture in his skull.”

I winced.

“I’ll check my schedule and get back to you; I’m not sure I can pick you up but I’ll handle it with Kellan. We’ll make some arrangements. Don’t you worry, big brother. You’re coming home!”

**********

I groaned and covered my face after ending that call, then used the alarm to call a nurse.

“Can you ask Doc Kincaid to come see me, please? I forgot to ask an important question.”

**********

Doc came up again about two hours later - it was around 4:30pm.

“What’s up, soldier?”

“You didn’t call her yet, did ya?”

He frowned.

“My sister,” I clarified.

He shook his head.

“Didn’t get around to it - had surgery - why?”

I sighed with relief.

“Good.”

His frown deepened and repeated his question.

“Why?”

“Because I spoke to her and she’s not too happy with you. You questioned her abilities as an RN?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I did no such thing. How could I? I only met the woman for the first time today. Nuh-uh - I wondered if she would be able to help you in case of an emergency. You’re what, 185lbs? She’s tiny. I questioned her being able to handle a guy like you if you fell.”

Ahhh…well, that was slightly different.

“Well, she’s not your biggest fan. Called you a bastard.”

“I am a bastard,” he agreed, grinning. “She had some choice words for me - I had some for her. Then I told her what I’d like to do with that mouth and she stormed off. Anything else?”

I stifled a smirk. Aha! Megan was used to getting her own way. Seemed like she met her equal. And he probably hadn’t said that. Right?

“She said guys like you should be fixed at birth.”

That caused a raised eyebrow and he produced his phone. It looked like one of those new flip phones - it folded out. I’d never seen one, but heard of them. His thumb moved and then he brought it to his ear, waiting.

Did he just enter her number from memory like; two hours later?

“Callum Kincaid. A.K.A. that bastard.”

He smiled while listening to her response, then held the phone away from his ear a bit. I could hear a shouted word, it sounded like ‘jackass’.

“Now, now! I called to ask what you’d like for dinner, so play nice. So do you like Thai? Japanese? Good old fashioned American?”

Amusement glittered in his eyes and his smile widened as he listened.

“Oh honey, you can’t talk to your future husband like that. What will the neighbors think? But while we’re on the subject; I’m not, nor am I ever, going to sit on frozen peas. The kid needs some brothers and sisters - I want at least half a dozen. You on the pill? Please quit.”

I covered my face and guffawed while he listened to more yelling on the other side of the line, increasing in pitch. Okay, so he might have said that after all. Christ…

“Ahuh. Definitely carnivorous then, so…burgers? I’ll bring some beers as well, then.”

At this point, I could hear her yelling at him that it’d be a cold day in hell before that would ever happen. Like, clearly hear it.

“Chicken.”

He made the sound to go along with that, goading her. A less audible retort coming from her, I couldn’t make it out.

“I sure did! Ahuh? Bite you? Oh I will, but I’m gonna need an address. Yes, I am for real; I don’t say things I don’t mean and I mean everything that I say.”

I peered through my fingers while he listened. And frowned. Wait a minute…

“Got it. No, of course I don’t mind that she’s there - I like kids. Ours will be awesome. Your beauty, my brains.”

Her voice raised again, I couldn’t make it out.

“Tsk…such a mouth on you; I already told you what I would like to do with that.”

He listened to her response, snickering.

“Sure, get a strap-on and I’ll let you do that - it’s quite impossible to do that to myself. I’ll try everything at least once, I’m open that way. I’ll be there in…” he checked his watch, “two hours. Wear something skimpy but still decent, let’s not scare the kid.”

He cut the connection with her still yelling and I just stared. I…I…

“She did not give you her address…”

He recited it, flawlessly and grinned, tapping his ear.

“Echoic memory as well.”

Freakish! Well, that wasn’t nice to think but…wow.

“Doc,” I said, uncertain. Fun and games are all good and well but…this was kinda getting out there. “My sister is a good woman. The best.”

I made a point of seeking eye contact. He met mine, calmly blinking and then checked his watch again before pulling up a chair, turned its back toward me and sat down, leaning on it.

“Alright, I have a few minutes. Anything I should know?”

I smirked. “Don’t get involved with her, if you value your balls.”

He winked.

“That ship already sailed the minute she knocked on my door. I like ‘em feisty,” he said, raising his chin questioningly. “The father of the kid - he still around?”

I shook my head.

“Dead?”

“No, he did a runner as soon as she told him she was pregnant.”

Doc met my eyes, tilting his head as if he was processing that.

“Spineless asshole, then. Good, he won’t be around. Any boyfriends since?”

“A few. You said you were looking for a sequel; you were married before?”

He nodded.

“I was - three years.”

“What happened?”

“She was a bitch.”

Okay, such things can be…raw…

“That’s a bit…”

He interrupted me.

“No, she really was a bitch. I just didn’t see it, blinded by a nice smokescreen of good ‘behavior’.”

He said that last using air quotes.

“Anna, my ex, came from money. Politics. She learned how to wrap men around her finger, and she wrapped me around hers. She wanted a doctor and prestige. It took until my accident to see it.”

“Right, I heard you were wounded. When?”

“2012. Afghanistan - suicidebomber. I was helping other wounded from an initial attack when a second one came in and went ‘voomp’. My back is a Sushi roadmap.”

I winced in sympathy.

“They patched me up at Landstuhl, then moved me over here. My…’wife’...” he used air quotes again, “came over. Took one look at me and left without a word. I got the divorce papers not too long after.”

“Bitch,” I muttered, heartfelt. What…person…does that.

“Those were my exact thoughts. Came here, got patched up, they gave me a job. Been here ever since. I go out there twice a year for a few weeks, give those guys over there some time to vacation back here.”
So that's why he had been there and operated on me.

“And your ex?”

“Dead as a doornail. Died four months after I arrived stateside. Lawyers were still at it, then. Partied too hard, drank too much and parked her car into a Chick-Fil-A.”

He chuckled. “I guess she really was chicken.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered, but his dry tone, and that last crack caused me to have to try real hard to not chuckle as well. Very bad form, while he seemed detached, unfeeling and then I thought of something.

“I wish I were, but I’m not. Good riddance. Nasty woman. The world is better off without her in it.”

“Doc, are you, perhaps, on the spectrum?”

He chuckled.

“Nope. You’re not the first to ask, either. No, I’m not.”

He leveled his gaze at me. “I told you; I’m a bastard. But I’d like to think I’m a good man.”

“You kinda are.”

“I don’t believe in wasting time. I’ve no patience for it. I call it as I see it. Does that make me a dick? So be it.” He contemplated for a little bit, then shrugged. “Yeah, I’m an asshole. I'm good at what I do. Sue me.”

“Hey, you know yourself,” I chuckled.

“Ahuh. So; permission?”

“For?” I asked, confused before I caught on again. “Don’t!....answer that. Yes, I‘m fine with that, thank you for asking.”

Most men wouldn’t ask for permission to date one's sister. Very decent.

“Okay, good. Can I tell her?”

“What? That her brother gave you permission to bone her?”

Meant as a joke and totally lost on him.

“Yes?”

Oh dear god… And then I noted his smirk.

“Dick!”

He laughed then, a genuine laugh.

“Told ya.”

Jackass!

**********

Finally coming down after the day's high, I ate and then rested for a bit. My thoughts drifted as the sun sank and twilight took over. I’d be seeing the outside again, breathing the free air.

Not that I was held against my will - definitely not. I was grateful for the care I’d received and was still receiving, but it was stifling at times. Monotonous. Day in and day out, the same thing. Wake up, take your meds, get out of bed, wash up (and in the beginning, those first few times, needing someone to wash your ass and your privates), get dressed (and the first few times needing someone to get that done, a hurried affair as you heal, get better), and get breakfast (and being spoon fed the first few days/weeks). Learning to do it on your own again. Visit a bathroom, take a shower…always someone there, ready to help you. It’s kind, and nice but so…humiliating? I’m still, well, not young but also not infirm, for fuck sake. I shouldn’t need someone to wipe my ass or clean my dick. So you act out, reacting to someone skulking around the corner. All they’re doing is making sure you don’t injure yourself again, but…alright, I’ll admit it: I gave some of them an earful in the early days. I sent some packing. I’d been rude and unforgivably so. I made one cry (I felt horrible afterwards, all she wanted to do was help).

It becomes a normalcy where you don’t want it, getting more mouthy than you ever thought you were capable of. And I’m just not that guy. What makes us do that?

I wished I could talk to Adam.

He was a writer. He might have insights that I hadn’t thought of yet. I wished I could call, so I could hear his voice...

I perked up. Wait a minute…

Maybe I could!

**********

The prospect of maybe getting to talk to him excited me to such a degree that I did not note the time. It would require Megan’s help; she’d been the one who’d handled the sale and everything. She might have a number to contact the realtor; I’d beg for a way to contact Adam. I dialed her number, letting it ring…once…twice…

And then was answered by a male voice.

“This better be a life or death situation.”

Oh my god! Doc moved fast!

“Life. Do I press 1 or 2?”

There was some rustling going on at the other end, and a ‘Hey! You don’t answer my phone!’, to which his response was a genuinely confused ‘Why not? It’s ringing!’

“K-kai?” my sister answered, then.

I snickered, I couldn’t help it; that was hilarious.

“Hey sis.”

More rustling, giggling and a “Callum, stop!”, then “You just had to give him my number, didn’t you?”

“Who?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“You know very well who, you ass. You gave him my number. Callum. Dr. Kincaid. Or shall we just call him Dr. Kinky from now on?”

Oh dear lord.

“Meg,” I began, but she cut me off.

“The man is a horndog,” she chuckled, then sounds of slapping hands away before she seemed to cover the phone with her hand. “Will you knock it off? I’m talking to my brother.”

“Hang up! Look at me! 7.5” with your name on it. Now do that thing with your tongue again. That felt friggin’ amazing.”

I held the phone away from my ear; I did not want to hear more of that. Christ! I ventured to listen again after about half a minute, when the volume of conversation died down.

“...not my fault - I said ‘dress something skimpy’. You’re not wearing panties. Men have a snake brain, honey. We do the math and get to ‘I’m getting lucky tonight’.”

Doc! Dude! Crass, man….good god…

“Shut up! I’m on the phone! He can hear! Gimme a minute.”

“You get one.”

“A minute! Jeez. Kai?”

“I’m so sorry,” I responded, “you said I couldn’t give him your number but…”

“Why are you sorry? I said he was a horndog, I didn’t say I didn’t like him. He’s yummy.”

OH. DEAR. LORD. Really?

“Hang up. Gimme that, I’ll do it.”

Lots of snickering and hushed voices. Then Megan spoke again, humor in her voice, half there, half distracted.

“You’re such a perv. Kai? You still there?”

I so didn’t need to hear all this, but…

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I’m intruding but I need your help.” I really did want that number…

“What with?”

“Did you, by any chance, speak to the buyer of pops’ house?”

“I did. Briefly, though. He contacted me because of some stuff we forgot to clear out in the attic. Made an appointment so Kellan could pick it up. Nice guy. I think Kellan said he was a writer.”

My hopes rose. He’d contacted her! Himself! So she might still have his number.

“Adam Evans.”

“Evans! Yes, that was it. Never heard of him, though.”

“Woman! Hang up!”

A muffled sound, like she put her hand on the speaking bit of her phone. Not well enough; I could still hear them.

“Just a second. Jeez, I’d think you haven’t had any in weeks.”

“Years. Why do you think my right hand grip is so strong?”

I closed my eyes at this point. Pity I couldn’t close my ears.

“One minute or I’m doing you, right here. I’m not kidding.”

Laughter. Then the muffled sound was gone.

“Alright, I’m back.”

I shook my head; that image would not leave me for quite some time.

“Yeah, he writes under a pseudonym. Adam Evans is his real name,” I plowed through.

“Oh, I see. What’s the pseudonym? I wonder what books he’s written. I think he was pretty well off. He bought the house for way over the asking price.”

Stop babbling. Just get me that number!

“No idea, but I was wondering - do you still have his number?” I asked, somewhat impatiently, cutting off more blabbing.

“I should have it in my phone log, it wasn’t too long ago. Kellan said he’d already moved in, while they were fixing things up. They were putting in new windows when he went over there.”

She was aggravating. Come on! “I have a pen. Just give me his number.”

“Hold on.”

She broke the connection. She broke the fucking...I stared at my phone. I couldn’t believe it. Here I sat, heart in my throat, and she broke the damn connection! I pressed redial. Voicemail. I was about to press it again, when my phone buzzed.

“He. Took. My. Phone! The man is a complete…I’m so sorry, Kai.”

Wow, Doc…wow. “No problem.”

“Alright, I think I got it. It should be from around that time. It’s the only number I don’t recognize. It’s…”

I copied the number she gave me, rewriting over the digits several times to make them clearer to read.
“Thanks, Meg.”

“Sure. What’s this about, anyway?”

Then Doc yelling in the background.

“Hey! Growing roots here. Here, look; a big one.”

I heard her gasp, audibly. Muffled sound again.

“Stop pointing that…thing at me! Do you have any shame? At all?”

“Nope. You had your minute. I need five. Okay, maybe three. I’ll bring some blue pills, next time.”

I couldn’t help it, I covered my own phone and burst out laughing. Oh fuck, my back! Good god, he was something else. Outrageous!

“I really gotta go, sorry!” Megan then yelled, immediately cutting the connection.

“Okay, love you!” I hiccupped, speaking to a disconnected line.

**********

I looked at the number as if it was some prize. My heart beat faster and, for a few seconds, I contemplated not calling. I was being silly and foolish. This was insane. But I really wanted to hear his voice. Hear it say my name.

Deciding to man up and just do it, I dialed the number.

Copyright © 2024 Andr0gene; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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