3 Little Empaths

Once upon a time, there were three little empaths who lived with a Wise Old Empath. The Wise Old Empath felt that more good needed to be done in the world, so she sent the three little empaths out in to the world and besides she wanted to be able to binge watch boxsets of Baking With Goodness without interruption. As she waved good bye to the three little empaths she called out,

“Go into the world my little empaths and spread your goodness all around, but please watch out for the narcissists. They are not easy to spot and make sure you all build a good home on the foundation of no contact. There is only one architect you should look for, he is called Hurt God.”

“We will!” chorused the three little empaths as they headed off into the world. The three little empaths soon set about commencing their good works and it was not long before pods of gay blind whales were being saved, a GoFundMe account was up and running for Oppressed Men with Beards and of Diminished Stature and  Crochet ‘Cos U Care Clubs sprang up across the land.

Yet, there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth as each of the three little empaths fell foul to the lure of The Narcissist. After Glorious Golden Periods and Devilish Devaluations, the three little empaths each made an escape bid.

The first little empath was scurrying along the yellow brick road seeking to escape her narcissist as she remembered the words of the Wise Old Empath.

“I need to build a house founded on no contact. W.O.E told me to find Hurt God but that sounds like such hard work and I was hoping to bake some Gullible Tarts this afternoon, oh what am I to do?”

Just then a woman rounded the yellow brick road.

“Hello first little empath, did I hear you need to build a House of No Contact?” she asked.

“Yes, yes I do, who are you?” asked the first little empath.

“I am Hysterical Tirade, I know about no contact,” replied the woman.

“You do?” asked the first little empath with enthusiasm, “I was told to use the architect Hurt God, but that sounds like hard work finding him.”

“Oh, it is and he is not a pleasant man, you do not want to use his work. My work is really just a personal rant about the narcissist that ensnared me, but don’t let that distract you from how brilliant my advice is. Here take this book.”

“Oh, thank you so much, now I can build my House of No Contact and do some baking.” And the first little empath used the book provided by Hysterical Tirade to build a House of No Contact on the spot where she was stood.

Not much later, as the first little empath was rolling the pastry for the Gullible Tarts she heard a familiar voice.

“Little emp, little emp, let me come in!”

It was an ogre of a Lesser Narcissist!

“Shove it douchebag!” shouted the first little empath defiantly.

“Then I will shout and I will scream and I will make a huge din so I can ensure I hoover you straight back in!” cried the Lesser Narcissist.

The first little empath smiled for she was in a House of No Contact but then she paused as she felt a cold hand of dread about her throat.

“Er, how did you find me?” she asked.

“Ha ha,” laughed the Lesser Narcissist, “look next door.”

The first little empath looked out of the window and saw across the garden was the man she knew as Lou Tenant waving back at her with a sardonic grin.

“Damn!” cursed the first little empath, “Hysterical Tirade’s Guide to the House of No Contact said nothing about building next to the House of Lou Tenant.”

“What a shame,” smiled the Lesser Narcissist as he strolled up behind the first little empath, slung her over his shoulder and set off back to Narc Town, leaving the First House of No Contact to crumble behind them.

 

The second little empath was hurrying along the road paved with gold seeking to escape her narcissist as she remembered the words of the Wise Old Empath.

“I need to build a house founded on no contact. W.O.E told me to find Hurt God but that sounds like such hard work and I was hoping to knit some Hats of Eternal Hope this afternoon, oh what am I to do?”

Just then a man rounded a corner of the road paved with gold.

“Hello second little empath, did I hear you need to build a House of No Contact?” he asked as he adjusted his vest and gave a smile.

“Yes, yes I do, who are you?” asked the second little empath.

“I am Smooth Amateur, I know about no contact,” replied the man.

“You do?” asked the second little empath with enthusiasm, “I was told to use the architect Hurt God, but that sounds like hard work finding him.”

“Oh, it is and he is a psychopath you know so he is a pathological liar, you do not want to use his work. My work is really just a collection of some fairly good ideas to essentially make me look like a hero whilst not really conveying the reality, but don’t let that distract you from how brilliant my advice is. Here take this book.”

“Oh, thank you so much, now I can build my House of No Contact and do some knitting.” And the second little empath used the book provided by Smooth Amateur to build a House of No Contact on the spot where she was stood.

Not much later, as the second little empath was knitting busily in her parlour she heard a familiar voice.

“Little emp, little emp, let me come in!”

It was a cowardly Mid-Range Narcissist!

“Beat it loser!” shouted the second little empath defiantly.

“Then I will plead and I will cajole and I will smear you with sin, so I can ensure I hoover you straight back in!” cried the Mid-Range Narcissist.

The second little empath smiled for she was in a House of No Contact but then she paused as she felt a cold hand of dread about her throat.

“Wait how did you know I would be here?” she asked

“You’ve been plastering yourself all over BaseFuck, Twatter, NarcMagnet and Plenty of Narcs, you gave plenty of detail about what you are doing and where and you did not block me,” smiled the Mid Range Narcissist with an oily grin.

“Damn!” cursed the second little empath, “Smooth Amateur’s Guide to the House of No Contact said nothing about staying off social media and blocking you.”

“What a shame,” smiled the Mid-Range Narcissist, “but it’s not all bad, after all, you should be looking after me now,” as he strolled up behind the second little empath, took her by the hand and set off back to Narc Town, leaving the Second House of No Contact to crumble behind them.

 

The third little empath was scurrying along the road to hell paved with good intentions seeking to escape her narcissist as she remembered the words of the Wise Old Empath.

“I need to build a house founded on no contact. W.O.E told me to find Hurt God and by the lack of hairs on my smooth chinny chinny chin chin I will find this mysterious Hurt God” she declared with resolve.

So the third little empath walked the road to hell paved with good intentions and was repeatedly offered books, videos and seminars on how to build the Ultimate House of No Contact by many people. She ignored various providers, such as Miss Unsupported Bonkers Theory, Unduly Esoteric Explanation Man, Hopelessly Rambling Victim, Mr Nice But Narc, Miss Tie Twenty Crystals Around Your Forehead and other well-meaning but ultimately ineffective purveyors of advice.

The third little empath grew weary and as the sun began to set, she feared that she would not be able to build a House of No Contact on Hurt God’s foundation before her narcissist caught up with her.

Just then the third empath turned a corner of the road and there was a tall, slim man who immediately exuded an air of malevolent menace. She could not see his features against the brightness of the sinking sun but the darkness which flowed from him made her feel wary and unsettled.

“Hello third little empath, did I hear you need to build a House of No Contact?” he asked in a voice which was authoritative and beguiling.

“Yes, yes I do, but I should not talk to strangers and certainly not ones as magnetic as you,” said the third little empath.

“Very sensible,” laughed the mysterious stranger and the third little empath was both aroused and repulsed, “but you need not worry, you are but a tertiary source and I have more proximate empaths to toy with. Here, take this, it will serve you excellent well,” and with that the stranger pressed a book into the shaking hands of the third little empath before he strode away whistling “A Hunting We Will Go” to himself.

The third little empath looked at the book and saw the title “Hurt God’s Ultimate House of No Contact” and she promptly fainted.

Some time later the third little empath came to and recalled her brief encounter with Hurt God. She saw the book still nearby and snatched it up and immediately set about digesting its content.

Even more time later, the third little empath was settling down to watch an episode of ‘Narcland’s Got Empaths’ when there was chime from her mobile phone. She saw a notification from her NarcCam and opened up the application. She watched transfixed as she saw a shadowy figure moving towards a house, caught on a concealed NarcCam.

“Goodness, it is the Greater Narcissist!” declared the third little empath. She sat in her comfortable armchair and watched remotely as the figure strolled with complete confidence up to a well-appointed house.

“He has come to hoover me!” announced the third little empath. The camera had sound and vision and she could hear the Greater Narcissist saying smoothly,

“Little emp, little emp, let me come in.”

“No way buster,” said the third little empath.

The Greater strode up the steps on to the porch in full view of the camera and turned and looked straight into the lens. He gave a radiant smile and said,

“Oh don’t be like that, I’ve come to repair the rift, I’ll hoover you with an expensive gift,” and then he extended a manicured forefinger and pressed the door bell.

Suddenly a trapdoor opened and the Greater dropped out of sight.

“Let’s see how a period of fuel free isolation suits you Mr Narcissist,” said the third little empath. She set down her ‘phone and picked up the television remote control. The third little empath patted the book that rested on the arm of her chair.

“Great work Hurt God, thanks to you I set up a robust House of No Contact and created a diversionary house with a false trail which the narcissist went to instead and now he is reflecting on what on earth has just happened from within a sealed drum of isolation.”

Just then a text arrived on the third little empath’s phone and she gave a short gasp.

“HG approves,” read the text.