“A depression so thick you forget your own name
A depression that longs for the grave.”
“He was jingoism incarnate, a middle-aged war vet with a jarhead hair cut and a ribbon. — yellow, of course — tied to his antennae.
Suck me dry, patriot — I’ll wrap that ribbon around your neck until your gawkers bug out like a pair of crystal balls.
Turn the fuck around and don’t look me in the eye, BITCH.
I’d like to shoot him into space without a spacesuit, I laughed.
That was all it took and BAM — I was on him like a wolf. I grabbed him by the collar and latched onto his nose like a vampire, chewing furiously through skin and gristle. Then, with a rabid jerk, I ripped it clean off and spit it back in his face. The staff rushed in to stop me but it was already over: he was bellowing in agony, rolling on the floor, spraying blood and snot everywhere…”
“Justin turned inward and never tried to fit in. He became very quiet and brooding. He befriended the bullied and would taunt, viciously and personally, their oppressor. He‘d say, ‘How can you make fun of him? You’re fat, you have a hook nose, and you’re really, really dumb.’ Christian recalls incidents where he heard a commotion, turned around, and caught Justin in the act of pounding someone with his fists. Justin perceived (as he does to this day) only two kinds of people: the courteous and kind and the nasty and mean-spirited. There was no in-between.”
“Christian walked in on the following conversation; it was Justin on the phone: “Hello? Is this James? [pause] It’s Elvis, that’s who. I know it’s been awhile and as your kind of half-stupid I’m gonna make it real simple. My name is Justin Weaver and we attended school together in the sixth grade. [pause] Crab Orchard, you minion. How many other schools you– oh you remember? [glances at Christian, beaming] Hey, he remembers! [ignores him again] You used to victimize the children who weren‘t as ignorant, inbred, and utterly common as you are. You even taunted me a bit [licks his lips and his eyes become wild, psychotic] How would you like it if I scooped out your eyeballs with a paring knife and snipped off your nose with a pair of sharp scissors. Would you like that, ole buddy? Would you like it if I chopped off your fingers n’ toes and reattached your toes to your hands and your fingers to your feet? How ’bout it, ole pal. What if –‘”
“Poor James hung up and then his mother called back; she requested our parents and when that didn’t work she said she’d already called the cops. Justin calmly explained that her son was a monster and that he needed this treatment. ‘Preventative terror,’ he smiled. ‘By terrorizing him now I’m preventing him from terrorizing other people in the future. You’ll thank me later, I swear.’”
“Justin, unlike a sociopath, was not randomly cruel. He had surgical precision. He didn’t torture small animals or start fires and all that. He reserved his worst behavior for the people he believed were psychological sadists, the ‘real psychopaths.’ Those who bullied others — particularly the timid, shy, peculiar, or homely — were the lowest of the low. He saw himself as their punisher because ‘bullying, though legal, is among the worst crimes. It creates the worst consequences… sometimes many years later.’ He perceived them as criminals (for instigating schools shooting and other violence) and even demons and monsters, on the other (for tormenting the defenseless and mangling their psyches).”
No Comments