What Is The Meaning Behind 'There'S A Hole In The Bucket'?

The carousel malfunctioned unexpectedly. My daughter was pulled into the machinery and died on the spot. I survived by sheer luck, but my groin was crushed beyond repair. My wife, Jody Parker, tore apart the entire amusement park. After refusing any settlement, she dragged dozens of staff members who had mishandled the equipment to court. She even dug our daughter's grave with her bare hands and nearly cried herself blind from grief. To help me recover from both emotional and physical trauma, she spent a fortune hiring a well-educated male nurse to care for me. Six months later, I was discharged early, hoping to move on from the past—only to accidentally find her and the male nurse naked together on a swing. "Jody, you crushed your husband's manhood and forsook your daughter's life. Am I really that important to you?" "Of course. Only with her dead and Sam crippled will he love our child without limits. Once our baby is born, Sam can take care of it. He's so gentle and attentive—he'll raise our little one to be perfectly well-behaved." My mind went blank. My blood ran cold. My daughter's death. The nightmares that tormented me every night. All of it had been orchestrated by Jody. Since she hated my existence so much, I would make sure she never saw me again.

My boss, Grant Whitlock, removed every table and chair from the operations team's area during the company's holiday party. Then, he placed one stainless-steel dog bowl in the middle of the stage. "Ops is basically the company's guard dog," he announced. "And dogs don't eat at the table." The top sales guy laughed and scraped his leftovers straight into the bowl. After that, Grant threw a black trash bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're our walking trash can. Make yourself useful." The room exploded with laughter. I didn't say a word. I just tightened my grip around the master access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's emergency utility approvals, maintenance access, and property management favors all went through me. They were all living it up because of this "dog" they loved looking down on. I had had enough. So, I dropped my employee badge into the dog bowl and walked out on them. I thought, 'After the holidays, no one will be cleaning the mess on those two floors. Let's see how well they survive without me.'

I was the only female carpenter in town, and I made caskets at cost price for anyone in the area who needed one. Everyone said I was generous, kind-hearted, the whole routine. Then one afternoon, Doug Hadley showed up at my shop with his wife Trish Grady and a handful of neighbors to order a cremation urn. Trish stared at the price tag. "An urn for only 50 dollars? What is this, scrap wood?" Doug shot her a look. "Don't run your mouth about things you don't understand. It's solid ebony. Bridget makes them herself, so it's cheaper." Trish snickered behind her hand. "Solid ebony? That might fool someone who doesn't know any better. My cousin runs a funeral supply shop, so trust me, I know what I'm looking at. This isn't ebony. It's plywood. It's five dollars' worth of material, tops. "I can take you all to my cousin's place. I'll make sure he gives us a deal." The neighbors were already nodding. "The urn's supposed to last a hundred years. Obviously, I want the best for my mom." "Selling plywood and calling it ebony... You ought to be ashamed." "Come on, let's all go to Trish's cousin. I'm not giving her the chance to make dirty money off any of us." Dirty money? As far as I knew, mine was the only shop in town that actually stocked real ebony. Everyone else used MDF. If they were not afraid of the thing falling apart, they were welcome to go for it.

Granny Agnes Forrest, an old traveling spiritual medium, said the sister we'd finally found after ten years missing had been so badly frightened that her soul had slipped loose from her body. She needed my memories to burn as lamp oil. Forty-nine days, start to finish, before Harper Ellison's spirit would finally settle. The first time they drained a memory from me, I forgot I was allergic to shellfish. I ate the shrimp my brother Grayson Ellison put on my plate and went into shock, straight into the ICU. Mom and Dad sat in the next room over, watching cartoons with Harper. They said the sound of my monitors was too loud, so they shut the door. After the twentieth draining, I forgot how to act sweet and needy around my own parents. After the fortieth, I forgot how to stay up waiting for my brother to come home from work at night. Today was day forty-nine. The last one. For the first time I could remember, Grayson walked into the basement himself, carrying a bowl of hot soup. "Once we finish draining the last of it today, we'll call it even. You'll have paid off the ten years you took from her. After this, we'll treat you like our real sister too." I looked up and watched him quietly, without a word.

What happens when people start going missing from a range of small towns in the middle of nowhere? The local police department have absolutely no idea what to think or how to investigate the disappearances or what to do with the body count piling higher and higher. Once again Mary wakes up outside the little wooden cottage naked and covered in blood. This always happens when something happens that ticks her off. Mostly it's her father not letting her do anything or never letting her leave the house. Constantly moving around also kind of defeats the purpose of going out and making friends if you are just going to be leaving the town in the next couple of months. Is Ryder really Mary's father and if he is where is her mother and why does he never talk about her? Should Ryder have told Mary that she is the Werewolf Princess? Should he have told her while she was growing up like he had planned before the accident or should he let her believe that she is a normal human being to help keep her safe and calm? Will they be able to help keep Dora and Mary alive when the time comes for Dora's forced marriage into slavery to cover her father's gambling debt with the goblins. Will Dora see her mate and have the curse removed? Why is Hera on the killing spree and what triggered it in the first place? Could it be Mary, her human who is afraid of what she is and what she smelt after her blood session as Mary had started calling her blackouts. Follow along and find out the secrets of the forest and what it hides in plain sight from unsuspecting humans and supernaturals alike.

When I was six years old, I became an actual dummy after playing a silly game with my older sister, Hannah Hubbard. My mental age is stuck at six years old. Because of that, my grandma receives a huge shock, causing her condition to deteriorate. Since then, Hannah has completely transformed into a brand new person. Thanks to her scholarship and her efforts to collect and sell trash, Grandma and I are able to survive under her care. Hannah is such a prideful person, and yet when her classmates call her stupid nicknames, she doesn't get mad at them at all. But if anyone is to call me an idiot, Hannah will seek justice for me no matter what. That night, Hannah gathers me in her arms while crying soundlessly. "My Oliver isn't an idiot at all. You just haven't grown up yet. Oliver, promise me that you will never leave me, okay?" I just nod blankly. For the next three years, I cling to her like glue. That is, until Blake Mueller appears in our lives. When I'm done playing with the mud, I forget to wash my hands, so I accidentally soil Blake's white shirt with my soiled hands. That's when Hannah suddenly breaks down emotionally and kicks me out of the house. "Oliver Hubbard, you've dragged me down my whole life! Are you going to cause trouble for Blake as well? Can you please be more understanding and stop causing more trouble for me?" Finally, an idea sparks inside my dim-witted brain for once. It turns out that my existence brings nothing but misery to Hannah. So, I hide inside the casket Grandma has custom-ordered for herself. There, I close my eyes and begin counting down quietly. Three, two, one. Let the game begin.