dancing-faygo
grimandhopeless:

carryonmy-assbutt:

the-canoodler:

thesproutingcolours:

crimesandkillers:

Transcript between Jake Evans and 911 dispatch operator
911 Dispatch: Parker County 911, where is your emergency?
Jake Evans: Uh, my house.
911: What’s the emergency?
Evans: Uh, I just killed my mom and my sister.
911: What? How did you do that?
Evans: Uh, I shot them with a .22 revolver.
911: Are you sure they’re dead?
Evans: They’re dead.
911: Okay, I want you to stay on the phone with me. Are you alright?
Evans: Yeah, I’m alright. (The gun) is on the kitchen counter.
911: Jake, are you on any medication?
Evans: Uh, no. I’ve been going to the allergist, I’m on allergy medication. Other than Zyrtec and Advil and Pseudoephedrine, I don’t take anything else.
911: Is there any reason that you were so angry at your mother and your sister?
Evans: I don’t know. … It’s weird. I wasn’t even really angry with them. It just kind of happened. I’ve been kind of, uh, planning on, uh, killing for a while now.
911: The two of ‘em, or just anybody?
Evans: Pretty much anybody.
911: Why?
Evans: I don’t know. I don’t really like, uh, people’s, uh, attitude. … I think it’s kind of, very, like, you know, emotional. They’re verbally rude to each other and stuff like that. I don’t know. It’s just my family is just kind of really I guess this is really selfish to say, but I felt they were just suffocating me in a way. I don’t know, I’m pretty, I guess, evil…Whatever, I’m sorry.
911: Were your mom and sister in their beds?
Evans: I don’t know. This is going to really mess me up in the future. I told my sister that my mom needed her. She was in her room, and she came out of her room, and I shot her. And she rolled down the stairs and I shot her again. And then I went down and I shot my mom maybe three or four times, but I’ll never forget this. My sister, she came downstairs and she was screaming and I was telling her that I’m sorry but just to hold still – that, you know, I was just going to make it go away. But she kept on freaking out, but she finally fell down and I shot her in the head about, probably, three or four times.
911: Are you in the kitchen?
Evans: Yes.
911: Where’s your dad?
Evans: He’s out of town. Washington, D.C. And, uh, I guess for future reference, I don’t really want to see any of my family members, like visiting or whatever. I just don’t want any type of visitors.
911: You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?
Evans: Just to let you know, I hate the feeling of killing someone. (Sighs) I’m going to be messed up.
911: You just take a deep breath. We have deputies coming, and they’re going to help you. Just to let you know, we’re going to help you, we’re not going to hurt you.
Evans: I understand if ya’ll want to. 
911: No, we’re there to help you, Jake. Everybody thinks we want to do bad things, but right or wrong, we want to help people, and we’re gonna help you. Do you understand that, Jake?
Evans: Yes.
911: Is it a gated community? Is there a gate?
Evans: Uh, yes. You want the password? (He gives her the password)
911: It’s going to be alright, it really is. They’ll be there shortly, won’t be long now. Jake, would you mind turning any of the porch lights on?
Evans: I have turned the front lights on. (pauses) I was thinking of my sister. She was 15. 
911: How long ago did (the shootings) happen?
Evans: About, uh, 30 minutes ago. (breathes heavily)
911: You’ll be alright, Jake. 
Evans: I’m really worried about, like, nightmares and stuff like that. Are there any times of medications, and stuff?
911: Well, I think there is. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor but … I’m sure your family will get you the support you need.
Evans: I don’t mean to sound like a wimp or anything, but this is, wow, I’ve never, like, done anything violent in my whole life.
911: You don’t sound like a violent person. But um, help will be provided for you. Medical and psychological. That will be provided, so you don’t have to worry about that right now. Take deep breaths for me now, you’re doing fine. In through your nose, and out through your mouth so you don’t hyperventilate, okay?
Evans: (breathing)
911: Good, you sound a lot calmer right now. 
Evans: I didn’t want them to feel pain, that’s why I used a gun, but it’s like everything went wrong.
911: Jake, my officers are almost there, would you be willing to walk out on your own?
Evans: Um, yes, I forgot to say before I called, I put the gun on the counter, it’s still loaded.
911: Okay, that’s fine. I’ll stay on the phone until it’s time for you to walk out. Are you on your home phone? Is it cordless? 
Evans: Yes.
911: Jake, what I want you do to is walk outside, but when you’re walking outside, stay visible, don’t walk behind any furniture. When you open the front door, put your hands up in the air, just walk very slowly, and walk outside, and keep your hands visible, alright, sweetie? I’ll talk to you later.
Evans: Thank you (puts phone down)
911: You’re welcome.

wow..

That 911 operator must have been working on pure adrenaline but kept their cool during the whole thing. Sometimes we don’t even realize what all they have to listen to day in and day out but this was really insightful. Yes they are only on the phone whenever there is an emergency but things could have gotten way, way worse if the operator panicked instead of coming across as sympathetic.

I really respect the operator

What a crazy thing to read

grimandhopeless:

carryonmy-assbutt:

the-canoodler:

thesproutingcolours:

crimesandkillers:

Transcript between Jake Evans and 911 dispatch operator

911 Dispatch: Parker County 911, where is your emergency?

Jake Evans: Uh, my house.

911: What’s the emergency?

Evans: Uh, I just killed my mom and my sister.

911: What? How did you do that?

Evans: Uh, I shot them with a .22 revolver.

911: Are you sure they’re dead?

Evans: They’re dead.

911: Okay, I want you to stay on the phone with me. Are you alright?

Evans: Yeah, I’m alright. (The gun) is on the kitchen counter.

911: Jake, are you on any medication?

Evans: Uh, no. I’ve been going to the allergist, I’m on allergy medication. Other than Zyrtec and Advil and Pseudoephedrine, I don’t take anything else.

911: Is there any reason that you were so angry at your mother and your sister?

Evans: I don’t know. … It’s weird. I wasn’t even really angry with them. It just kind of happened. I’ve been kind of, uh, planning on, uh, killing for a while now.

911: The two of ‘em, or just anybody?

Evans: Pretty much anybody.

911: Why?

Evans: I don’t know. I don’t really like, uh, people’s, uh, attitude. … I think it’s kind of, very, like, you know, emotional. They’re verbally rude to each other and stuff like that. I don’t know. It’s just my family is just kind of really I guess this is really selfish to say, but I felt they were just suffocating me in a way. I don’t know, I’m pretty, I guess, evil…Whatever, I’m sorry.

911: Were your mom and sister in their beds?

Evans: I don’t know. This is going to really mess me up in the future. I told my sister that my mom needed her. She was in her room, and she came out of her room, and I shot her. And she rolled down the stairs and I shot her again. And then I went down and I shot my mom maybe three or four times, but I’ll never forget this. My sister, she came downstairs and she was screaming and I was telling her that I’m sorry but just to hold still – that, you know, I was just going to make it go away. But she kept on freaking out, but she finally fell down and I shot her in the head about, probably, three or four times.

911: Are you in the kitchen?

Evans: Yes.

911: Where’s your dad?

Evans: He’s out of town. Washington, D.C. And, uh, I guess for future reference, I don’t really want to see any of my family members, like visiting or whatever. I just don’t want any type of visitors.

911: You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?

Evans: Just to let you know, I hate the feeling of killing someone. (Sighs) I’m going to be messed up.

911: You just take a deep breath. We have deputies coming, and they’re going to help you. Just to let you know, we’re going to help you, we’re not going to hurt you.

Evans: I understand if ya’ll want to. 

911: No, we’re there to help you, Jake. Everybody thinks we want to do bad things, but right or wrong, we want to help people, and we’re gonna help you. Do you understand that, Jake?

Evans: Yes.

911: Is it a gated community? Is there a gate?

Evans: Uh, yes. You want the password? (He gives her the password)

911: It’s going to be alright, it really is. They’ll be there shortly, won’t be long now. Jake, would you mind turning any of the porch lights on?

Evans: I have turned the front lights on. (pauses) I was thinking of my sister. She was 15. 

911: How long ago did (the shootings) happen?

Evans: About, uh, 30 minutes ago. (breathes heavily)

911: You’ll be alright, Jake. 

Evans: I’m really worried about, like, nightmares and stuff like that. Are there any times of medications, and stuff?

911: Well, I think there is. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor but … I’m sure your family will get you the support you need.

Evans: I don’t mean to sound like a wimp or anything, but this is, wow, I’ve never, like, done anything violent in my whole life.

911: You don’t sound like a violent person. But um, help will be provided for you. Medical and psychological. That will be provided, so you don’t have to worry about that right now. Take deep breaths for me now, you’re doing fine. In through your nose, and out through your mouth so you don’t hyperventilate, okay?

Evans: (breathing)

911: Good, you sound a lot calmer right now. 

Evans: I didn’t want them to feel pain, that’s why I used a gun, but it’s like everything went wrong.

911: Jake, my officers are almost there, would you be willing to walk out on your own?

Evans: Um, yes, I forgot to say before I called, I put the gun on the counter, it’s still loaded.

911: Okay, that’s fine. I’ll stay on the phone until it’s time for you to walk out. Are you on your home phone? Is it cordless? 

Evans: Yes.

911: Jake, what I want you do to is walk outside, but when you’re walking outside, stay visible, don’t walk behind any furniture. When you open the front door, put your hands up in the air, just walk very slowly, and walk outside, and keep your hands visible, alright, sweetie? I’ll talk to you later.

Evans: Thank you (puts phone down)

911: You’re welcome.

wow..

That 911 operator must have been working on pure adrenaline but kept their cool during the whole thing. Sometimes we don’t even realize what all they have to listen to day in and day out but this was really insightful. Yes they are only on the phone whenever there is an emergency but things could have gotten way, way worse if the operator panicked instead of coming across as sympathetic.

I really respect the operator

What a crazy thing to read

romannico

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eight years old, she’s got pink cheeks that her grandmother calls chubby. She wants a second cookie but her aunt says “you’ll get huge if you keep eating.” She wants a dress and the woman in the changing room says “she’ll probably need a large in that.” She wants to have dessert and her waiter says “After all that dinner you just had? You must be really hungry!” and her parents laugh.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eleven and she is picked second-to-last in gym class. She watches a cartoon and sees that everyone who is annoying is drawn with a big wide body, all sweaty and panting. At night she dreams she is swelling like the ocean over seabeds. When she wakes up, she skips school.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is thirteen and her friends are stick-thin ballerinas with valleys between their hipbones. She is instead developing the wide curves of her mother. She says she is thick but her friends argue that she’s “muscular” and for some reason this hurts worse than just admitting that she jiggles when she walks and she’ll never be a dancer. Eating seconds of anything feels like she’s breaking some unspoken rule. The word “indulgent” starts to go along with “food.”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fourteen and she has stopped drinking soda and juice because they bloat you. She always takes the stairs. She fidgets when she has to sit still. Whenever she goes out for ice cream, she leaves half at the bottom - but someone else always leaves more and she feels like she’s falling. She pretends to like salad more than she does. She feels eyes burrowing through her body while she eats lunch. Kate Moss tells her nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but she just feels like she is wilting.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fifteen the first time her father says “you’re getting gaunt.” She rolls her eyes. She eats one meal a day but thinks she stays the same size. Every time she picks up a brownie she thinks of the people she sees on t.v. and every time she has cake, she thinks of the one million magazine articles on restricting calories. She used to have no idea a flat stomach was supposed to be beautiful until she saw advice on how to achieve it. She cuts back on everything. She controls. They tell her she’s getting too thin but she doesn’t believe it.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is sixteen and tearing herself into shreds in order for a thigh gap big enough to hush the screams in her head. She doesn’t “indulge,” ever. She can’t go out with friends, they expect her to eat. She damns her sweet tooth directly to hell. It’s coffee for breakfast and tea for lunch and if there’s dance that evening, two cups of water and then maybe an apple. She lies all the time until she thinks the words will rot her teeth. She dreams about food when she sleeps. Her aunt begs her to eat anything, even just a small cookie. They say, “One bite won’t make you fat, will it, darling?”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is seventeen and too sick to go to prom because she can’t stand up for very long. She thinks she wouldn’t look good in a dress anyway. Her nails are blue and not because they are painted. Her hair is too thin to do anything with. She’s tired all the time and always distracted. She once absently mentions the caloric value of grapes to the boy she is with and he looks at her like she’s gone insane and in that moment she realizes most people don’t have numbers constantly scrolling in their heads. She swallows hard and tries to figure out where it all went wrong, why more than a granola bar for a meal makes her feel sick, why she tastes disease and courts with death. She misses sleep. She misses being able to dream. She misses being herself instead of just being empty.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is twenty and writes poetry and is a healthy weight and still fights down the voices every single day. She puts food in her mouth and sometimes cries about it but more and more often feels good, feels balanced. Her cheeks are pink and they are chubby and soft and no longer growing slight fur. Her hair is long and it is beautiful. She still picks herself apart in the mirror, but she’s starting to get better about it. She wears the dress she likes even if it only fits her in a large and she doesn’t feel like a failure for it. She is falling in love with the fat on her hips.

She is eating out with friends and not worrying about finding the lowest calorie item on the menu when she hears a mother tell her four year old daughter “You can’t have ice cream, we just had dinner.
You don’t want to end up as a fat little girl.”

Why do we constantly do this to our children? /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)