The global birth rate dropped to zero by choice.

My sister had a birthday party at her house last weekend. She told everyone not to worry about bringing food because she had everything covered, but I like baking, so I spent most of Saturday making a homemade chocolate cake anyway. She said thanks when I arrived and put it on the kitchen counter.

A little later I overheard her telling a few relatives that the cake was from the local bakery because she "didn't want people asking for the recipe all night." I laughed at first because I thought she was joking, but she kept saying it every time someone complimented it.

Eventually one of my cousins came over and asked which bakery she bought it from because it was really good. Before my sister could answer, I said, "Actually I made it."

She rolled her eyes and said, "Does it really matter?"

I told her it kind of did since I spent hours making it. She shrugged and said nobody cared where it came from and I was making a scene over dessert.

That annoyed me, so when the party started winding down, I packed up what was left of the cake and took it home. There was still about half of it left.

The next day she texted me saying she planned on sending slices home with people and that taking it back was childish. My mom also said I should've just left it there because it was a birthday gift once I brought it.

I don't think it's unreasonable to take back something after the person spends the whole night pretending they made or bought it themselves.

Am I the jerk?

TL;DR: I spent hours baking my sister a birthday cake, she kept telling everyone it came from a bakery, so I took the leftover cake home after the party. Now my family says I was petty.

A guy moved into our neighborhood about a year ago and from day one he acted like he owned the place. He was always watching what everyone was doing and complaining about something.

A few months ago he reported my dad to the city because he claimed our driveway extension was built illegally. My dad was pretty stressed because he didn't want to deal with all that, but luckily he still had all the permits from when it was done years ago.

The inspector came out, looked at everything for maybe 10 minutes and basically said everything was fine. That should've been the end of it.

But this guy kept acting all smug after that like he was just waiting to catch someone else.

So one night I got curious and looked through the city's permit records online.

I searched his address and couldn't find anything for the huge detached garage he built behind his house. Then I noticed from the property map that it looked way too close to the fence too.

I took a couple pictures from the sidewalk, filled out a report and attached the parcel number. That was it.

About three weeks later another inspector showed up at his house.

Turns out the garage never had a permit and it didn't meet the setback requirements either. Since it was built pretty recently he couldn't get it grandfathered in. They gave him the choice of fixing it or tearing part of it down.

Last week contractors came and removed almost half of it.

Now every time he walks outside he has to look at our perfectly legal driveway while his garage looks like someone took a giant bite out of it.

My dad still has no idea I was the one who reported him.

Part of me feels like I should feel bad about it.

Honestly though... I don't.

A neighbor moved in about a year ago and quickly became known for reporting people over the smallest things.

He eventually reported my dad's driveway extension to the city, claiming it was illegal. My dad was stressed about it, but he still had all the permits from years ago. An inspector came out, checked everything, and closed the complaint.

That should've been the end of it.

Instead, I got annoyed enough to look through the city's public permit records. I couldn't find any permit for the neighbor's large detached garage. Looking at the property map, it also seemed too close to the property line.

I considered reporting it. If I did, there's a good chance the city would inspect it and he could end up having to tear part of it down.

On one hand, he started the whole thing by trying to get my dad fined over something that was completely legal.

On the other hand, reporting him wouldn't be about public safety. It would mostly be revenge.

So, am I the jerk cuz I reported the garage?

TL;DR: My neighbor reported my dad's fully permitted driveway to the city out of spite. After the complaint went nowhere, I found out his detached garage appeared to be unpermitted and considered reporting it, knowing it could force him to tear part of it down. AITJ?

A guy moved into our neighborhood about a year ago and from day one he acted like he owned the place. He was always watching what everyone was doing and complaining about something.

A few months ago he reported my dad to the city because he claimed our driveway extension was built illegally. My dad was pretty stressed because he didn't want to deal with all that, but luckily he still had all the permits from when it was done years ago.

The inspector came out, looked at everything for maybe 10 minutes and basically said everything was fine. That should've been the end of it.

But this guy kept acting all smug after that like he was just waiting to catch someone else.

So one night I got curious and looked through the city's permit records online.

I searched his address and couldn't find anything for the huge detached garage he built behind his house. Then I noticed from the property map that it looked way too close to the fence too.

I took a couple pictures from the sidewalk, filled out a report and attached the parcel number. That was it.

About three weeks later another inspector showed up at his house.

Turns out the garage never had a permit and it didn't meet the setback requirements either. Since it was built pretty recently he couldn't get it grandfathered in. They gave him the choice of fixing it or tearing part of it down.

Last week contractors came and removed almost half of it.

Now every time he walks outside he has to look at our perfectly legal driveway while his garage looks like someone took a giant bite out of it.

My dad still has no idea I was the one who reported him.

Part of me feels like I should feel bad about it.

Honestly though... I don't.

I'm only on Chapter 6, so no spoilers please.

Seriously though, if you're a teenager and you like science, space, mystery, or books that make you keep saying "just one more chapter," read Project Hail Mary.

I went into it expecting a decent sci-fi novel, but it grabbed me way faster than I expected. It somehow explains scientific ideas in a way that's actually fun instead of feeling like a textbook, and every chapter leaves you wanting to know what happens next.

Even if you don't usually read books, I'd still give this one a shot. It's one of those stories that makes reading feel like watching a really good movie in your head.

Again, I'm only on Chapter 6, so please don't spoil anything in the comments. I just wanted to recommend it because I'm already having an awesome time with it.

I (23F) graduated from college last year with a little over $60,000 in student loans. Growing up, my parents always told both my sister (27F) and me that they had separate college funds for each of us. My sister decided not to go to college, started working right after high school, and eventually moved out.

When it came time for me to apply to colleges, my parents suddenly told me there wasn't nearly as much money saved as they had expected. They said investments had gone badly and they'd help where they could, but I'd need loans.

It sucked, but I accepted it because I figured life happens.

A few months ago, while helping my parents clean out old paperwork, I accidentally found bank statements showing that my college fund hadn't disappeared because of bad investments.

It had been emptied over several years with transfers to my sister.

When I confronted my parents, they admitted that when my sister wanted to open a business a few years ago, they quietly gave her most of my college fund because they believed she'd "pay it back eventually."

She never did.

The worst part was that nobody told me. They let me believe the money was simply gone while I signed loan after loan.

I confronted my sister expecting at least an apology.

Instead she told me that her business helped the entire family and that I was "lucky" to have gotten an education at all. She said I was acting entitled because "it's our parents' money."

Now she's getting married in a few months.

She wants me to be a bridesmaid like nothing happened.

I told her I won't even be attending unless she at least acknowledges what happened and apologizes for benefiting from money that had been set aside for my future.

My parents think I'm trying to ruin the wedding over something that happened years ago. Some relatives say I should forgive everyone because "family is family."

From where I'm standing, they all lied to me for years, and I'm the only one still paying for that decision every month.

AITJ?

TL;DR: My parents secretly gave most of the college fund they'd promised me to my sister so she could start a business, then let me believe it had disappeared while I took on over $60,000 in student loans. Years later I found out the truth, my sister refuses to apologize, and now I'm refusing to attend her wedding because of it. AITJ?

I live with a roommate, and we've generally been pretty relaxed about borrowing each other's stuff. Things like chargers, tools, or kitchen appliances were never a big deal as long as we asked first.

A couple of weeks ago he asked to borrow my portable Bluetooth speaker for a weekend trip. I said sure.

When he brought it back, it had a pretty noticeable crack in the casing. It still works, but one side rattles now if the volume is turned up. He apologized and said it must have gotten knocked over, but he didn't offer to replace it or pay for repairs. He just said, "At least it still works."

I didn't push the issue because I didn't want to make things awkward.

Since then, whenever he's asked to borrow something, I've politely said no.

Yesterday he asked to borrow my cordless drill for a shelf he was putting up. I told him I'd rather keep my things to myself from now on.

He immediately asked if this was because of the speaker. I said yes, and explained that if something comes back damaged and the person doesn't try to make it right, it makes me uncomfortable lending out more of my stuff.

He said I was holding a simple accident over his head and making it into a bigger issue than it needed to be. He also pointed out that he'd let me borrow his things plenty of times before without any problems.

Now I feel a little guilty because outside of this one incident, we've gotten along well. At the same time, I don't think it's unreasonable to stop lending out my belongings after something like this.

Am I overreacting by deciding not to lend him my things anymore?

I (22M) live with my older brother (25M). We split rent, utilities, and household supplies like toilet paper and dish soap, but we each buy our own groceries because we eat different things and have different schedules.

A couple of weeks ago, I came home from work and noticed some of my groceries were gone. My brother admitted he'd used them because he hadn't had time to shop and said he'd replace them later.

I told him I understood emergencies, but I'd appreciate it if he asked first. He apologized and promised it wouldn't happen again.

The following weekend, I bought groceries for the week, including ingredients for a dinner I planned to cook for a few friends.

The very next day, I found that he'd used most of the chicken and vegetables I'd bought. He said he'd forgotten to shop again and assumed I wouldn't mind because he planned to replace everything after work the next day.

Unfortunately, that meant I had to cancel dinner with my friends because I didn't have enough ingredients, and the grocery store I normally use had already closed.

The next day he did replace the groceries, but they weren't the same brands or quantities. He thought that was close enough.

A few days later, while I was already at the grocery store, he texted asking if I could pick up a week's worth of groceries for him because he was working late. He said he'd pay me back.

I told him no. I explained that after asking him twice not to use my groceries without asking, I wasn't interested in doing him a favor right then.

He ended up stopping at a convenience store after work and spent quite a bit more than he would have at the supermarket.

Now he says I was being petty because I was already at the store and it would have taken me only a few extra minutes. A couple of our mutual friends also think I should have just picked everything up since he was going to reimburse me.

I think it's reasonable not to do favors for someone who repeatedly ignored a simple boundary, but I'm wondering if I let my frustration get the better of me.

TL;DR: My brother used my groceries without asking twice, causing me to cancel dinner plans. A few days later, while I was already shopping, he asked me to buy a week's worth of groceries for him. I refused because I was still frustrated that he'd ignored my boundaries. Now he says I was being petty. Am I the jerk?

Assuming everyone still ages normally until they're 25, but then their bodies completely stop aging after that. People can still die from accidents, diseases, etc.—they just don't get older physically.

How do you think society would change? Would retirement, careers, relationships, having children, or even governments look completely different? What would be the biggest long-term consequences?

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1ud6tmr/i_deliver_mail_to_a_town_that_does_not_appear_on/)

[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1ue8rmm/i_deliver_mail_to_a_town_that_does_not_appear_on/)

[Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1uf7xzz/i_deliver_mail_to_a_town_that_does_not_appear_on/)

[Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1uhsrye/i_deliver_mail_to_a_town_that_does_not_appear_on/)

My supervisor was already moving before I could even react.The front door opened by itself.

It did not open quickly. It did not open violently. It opened slowly. It was like someone on the side already knew there was no reason to hurry.

My supervisor grabbed my shoulder. Said "Get in the car."

I did not move.

The door continued to open. The darkness beyond it seemed wrong. It was not black. It was deep. The kind of darkness that looked like it had depth like a hallway stretching forever.

The microwave beeped again. It was 4:12.

My supervisor practically shoved me toward the car. For the time since I had known him he looked completely terrified. Not scared. Terrified.. That scared me more than whatever was inside the house.

We got into the car. The engine started immediately. My supervisor pointed down the road. Said "Drive."

I slammed my foot on the accelerator. The tires squealed. We sped out of the neighborhood.

Neither of us spoke for minutes.

I kept expecting to see something in the rear view mirror. A figure. A vehicle. Anything.. The road behind us remained empty.

Finally I broke the silence.

"What is he?" I asked.

My supervisor stared out the window.

"I do not know " he said.

I laughed bitterly.

" Course " I said.

"No " he said. His voice sounded exhausted. "I genuinely do not know " he said.

The road stretched ahead of us. It was empty. It was dark. It was silent.

Then my supervisor continued.

"I only know what the couriers figured out " he said.

I glanced at him.

". " I asked.

He swallowed.

"Valewick was not built around him " he said.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"It was built over him " he said.

A chill spread through my body.

My supervisor looked ahead.

"Nobody knows when it started " he said. "Nobody knows where he came from.. A long time ago people discovered something."

"What?" I asked.

"They discovered that forgetting weakens him " he said.

I frowned.

That made no sense.

My supervisor continued.

"The town was not a prison " he said.

He paused.

"It was a sacrifice " he said.

Suddenly everything clicked.

The missing memories.

The residents.

The forgotten lives.

The endless routines.

The smiles.

The repetition.

The photographs.

The town was not stealing memories. The people were giving them up. Piece by piece. Year after year. Holding something.

My phone vibrated.

A message.

Unknown sender.

Three words.

TURN AROUND NOW.

The moment I read them my GPS activated by itself.

The screen changed.

A route appeared.

Destination: VALEWICK.

I nearly drove off the road.

"No " I said.

The route recalculated.

Every road ahead disappeared.

Only one remained.

Valewick.

My supervisor stared at the screen.

"It is choosing " he said.

"What is?" I asked.

"The route " he said.

My stomach dropped.

The route had chosen me.

Just like it had chosen him.

Twenty-seven years earlier.

Another message arrived.

THIS IS YOUR DELIVERY.

The car radio suddenly switched on.

Static filled the cabin.

Then voices.

Hundreds of voices.

Thousands.

All speaking at once.

Begging.

Crying.

Screaming.

Remember us.

Remember us.

Remember us.

Then silence.

My supervisor closed his eyes.

"I know what the key was for " he said.

I looked at him.

"The key?" I asked.

"The box " he said.

His voice had become very quiet.

"The town sent it to you because they could not use it anymore " he said.

I felt sick.

"What does it open?" I asked.

He stared through the windshield.

"Him " he said.

The road curved ahead..

There it was.

The sign.

WELCOME TO VALEWICK.

Neither of us remembered driving.. Somehow we had arrived.

The town looked different.

No smiling residents.

No bicycles.

No diner waitress.

No newspaper man.

Nothing.

The entire town stood empty.

Waiting.

The GPS guided us directly toward the center of town.

Toward a building I had never seen before.

A church..

What used to be a church.

The structure looked ancient.

Older than everything around it.

The route ended there.

The GPS shut off.

The engine died.

Silence returned.

My supervisor stepped out first.

I followed.

Together we approached the church.

The front doors stood open.

Inside was a staircase descending underground.

The deeper we went the colder the air became.

Eventually we reached a chamber..

There they were.

The residents of Valewick.

Every single one.

Hundreds of people standing silently around a pit.

The woman from the phone call stood among them.

When she saw me tears filled her eyes.

Not sadness.

Relief.

"You remembered " she whispered.

Before I could answer the crowd parted.

At the center stood a stone pedestal.

On it rested a lock.

A single lock.

Waiting for a key.

My supervisor looked at me.

"The box " he said.

I finally understood.

The key had not disappeared.

The key had never been for us.

It had returned home.

A metallic click echoed through the chamber.

The lock opened by itself.

Everyone froze.

The woman began crying.

"No " she said.

The pit below us trembled.

Something moved.

Far beneath the earth.

Something enormous.

The chamber shook violently.

Cracks spread across the stone floor.

The crowd began backing.

Then I heard it.

A voice.

Not from outside.

Not from below.

Inside my head.

After all this time.

I cannot describe what the voice sounded like.

What it felt like.

Ancient.

Hungry.

Lonely.

The pit widened.

Darkness poured upward.

Not smoke.

Not shadow.

Darkness itself.

The thing beneath Valewick had awakened..

Suddenly I understood why the residents had forgotten.

Because memories were the chains.

Every forgotten face.

Every forgotten family.

Every forgotten life.

A lock.

A barrier.

A sacrifice.

Now those chains were breaking.

The ground collapsed.

People screamed.

My supervisor grabbed my arm.

Then he smiled.

For the time.

A genuine smile.

"I know how this ends " he said.

Before I could stop him he stepped forward.

Toward the darkness.

The woman from the diner followed.

Then another resident..

Another..

Another.

Hundreds.

The entire town.

All the people who had spent decades forgetting.

They began remembering.

Names.

Families.

Children.

Homes.

Lives.

I watched tears stream down their faces.

Every memory returned.

The darkness recoiled.

The voice screamed.

Not with anger.

With pain.

The chamber shook harder.

The residents kept walking.

Every recovered memory became a weapon.

Every remembered life became a chain.

The darkness retreated.

The pit closed.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Like a wound healing.

The voice faded.

The chamber became silent..

Then everything disappeared.

The church.

The town.

The residents.

Gone.

I woke up beside the road at sunrise.

Alone.

My car sat nearby.

The GPS was dead.

My phone contained no photographs.

No messages.

No call logs.

Nothing.

The road ahead stretched normally.

No sign for Valewick.

No town.

No route.

Nothing.

Authorities never found the town.

My company never found records of it.

Nobody remembered my supervisor.

Officially he had never existed.

Sometimes I wonder if any of it was real.

Then I remember one thing.

A weeks later a letter arrived at my apartment.

No return address.

No stamp.

Inside was a photograph.

Hundreds of people standing together.

Smiling.

Not the empty smiles, from Valewick.

Real smiles.

The smiles of people who finally remembered who they were.

Written on the back were six words.

THANK YOU FOR THE DELIVERY.

I never saw Valewick again..

I hope nobody ever does.

Interviews seem to reward confidence, charisma, and social skills far more than actual ability. The person who interviews the best is not necessarily the person who will perform the best once they're hired.

Many interviews rely on hypothetical questions or ask candidates to explain how they would handle situations they've never actually encountered. Even behavioral questions often measure storytelling ability more than competence.

Interview performance is also heavily influenced by factors unrelated to job performance. Anxiety, neurodivergence, cultural differences, introversion, lack of interview experience, or simply having an off day can significantly affect how someone comes across.

Meanwhile, people can become exceptionally good at interviewing through practice, coaching, and rehearsed answers without necessarily becoming better at the job itself.

I think work sample tests, paid trial periods, realistic job simulations, or reviewing a candidate's actual past work provide much stronger evidence of future performance than a conversation lasting 30–60 minutes.

I'm not saying employers should hire people randomly. I'm arguing that interviews are given far more weight than they deserve and should play only a minor role in hiring compared with objective demonstrations of ability.

Change my view.