So, /b/, I'm in a bit of a state right now. Two of my best friends are in hospital, and I just finished stitching up the third. A torched shell of burnt metal is resting downstairs in what I guess you'd call my parking lot. The last 40 hours have been harrowing and I really need to tell my story to someone. I swear this isn't gonna be some bullshit spaghetti trollpaste. Here goes.

> be 22
> bisexual
> living with three other bisexuals
> Vincent, Rachel, Valerie
> something of a dysfunctional group, not going to go into bullshit exposition but you'll find out
> live by the coast in a university town
> all involved in life sciences (Vincent = 7th year med, Valerie = phd biochemistry, Rachel = masters cell biology, me = masters in genetics & biotech)
> be 6 months ago
> Valerie moving into apartment, we know her through Rachel (ex-hookup)
> first thing we see is a massive set of knives
> That Look shoots around the apartment, Rachel nods to both of us
> dinner starts going strange
> watch my fork melt into my plate
> wat.jpg
> i hear Rachel laughing, sounds like a million miles away
> broken glass, Vincent is giggling and crushing wine glass up in his hands
> Valerie isn't moving, just watching us, smiling
> ohyou.jpg
> i'm suddenly sawing into the table with my steak knife, just want to cut things
> SO FUCKING HORNY JESUS CHRIST
> feel hands around my throat, rachel and vincent are now on the floor
> must be valerie
> bitch drugged us MOTHERFUCKER

continuing soon