CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
It couldn't be her. The photo had just brought up a memory, he decided.
He smiled,even as the news report about the woman his age being found dead in her house of a heroin overdose, after two weeks continued, he smiled at the memory.
He had been...ten? Seemed like a good estimate. Maybe nine...could he have been eight? Ten was probably a bit too old. He would have know better by ten, surely. Okay, he'd say nine. He'd been nine. He'd been nine and he'd hit a girl in the face.
Couldn't be her, he thought, as the news report continued. The name was different. This girl was called Elizabeth, his girl was called...something else. Not Elizabeth. The girl he's smacked in the face as a child wasn't called Elizabeth.
But in context, it wasn't so bad! He laughed as he thought that, laughed even as the woman's grieving mother appeared on screen. God, she was crying so loudly! He put the sound off. He laughed at the memory of the girl crying. He laughed at the memory of the shocked looks on his friends faces. He laughed at how small and pathetic he himself had been, to slap a girl! He laughed at how he managed to bullshit his way out of it with the teacher by telling her the girl had provoked him in some vague way. She had done nothing of the sort, but he had always been well behaved before that incident so perhaps the teached had concluded that there must have been some good reason for what he had done.
Most of all, he laughed at the memory of the reason, the exact reason, why he had slapped the girl hard in the face.
She wouldn't stop smiling.
He had struck a girl becasue she wouldn't stop smiling! Had he thought she was making fun of him? Possibly. Often when he saw people smiling, even now in fact, he would think they were making fun of him. Perhaps it was because he didn't understand or experience human emotions himself. It was only natural that he'd be confused by how normal people act. Didn't she always smile, though? He seemed to remember that. Maybe she just had one of those faces...one of those faces where it always looked like she was smiling. Yes, he could imagine why he would not have liked that...he still wouldn't like it today. So he'd hit her. To get her to stop or just out of anger? As an experiment? That was it, an experiment. He had treated another human being as an experiment. That made him laugh out loud again, in a manic, false kind of way. Not a natural laugh, but a mad scientist, artifical kind of laugh. Nothing about him was natural.
What had her name been again? Started with an L, he thought.
Maybe he was evil. He'd thought of that before. Hitting a girl in the face to watch her cry, it was sociopathic! And some of the other things he'd thought about now and again over the years, imagined doing...laughing at news reports of girls being murded. Oh, what a stereotype, he hated girls! He was a walking serial killer cliche!
Except he'd never actually done anything evil. He didn't even think about doing evil things very often. Sometimes he'd almost force himself to, like it was expected of him to think evil things. But he wasn't particularly evil. He wasn't particularly anything. He just was. He was small and pathetic, worse now than he had been then. Much worse.
The photo flashed up on screen again, the one that had got him thinking about the girl he'd slapped. It was a photo of the woman a few years before he death, smiling happily...such a big, vibrant smile. No clue in that smile that she'd end up dying in such a horrible way, forgotten by the world, lying there curled up in a ball for two weeks, the needle still in her arm. He felt sad. He actually felt sad! How did that happen? Thinking about it made it go away. He tried to feel it again, but he couldn't. Damn it!
Libby, that had been her name. He smiled at her name.
Maybe it wasn't too late to do something evil, something REALLY evil. It was what he was destined for, right? He certainly couldn't be destined to do anything good! He could...well, no, he couldn't. He could never kill anyone. Maybe he could slap little girls in the face again and watch them cry? Recreated his one glorious evil act?
No, he couldn't do that.
The news report was over. Poor Elizabeth, he thought, and did his mad scientist laugh again. Just another dead girl. He wondered what had happened to Libby, the girl he had slapped...
Libby, short, of course, for Elizabeth.
No, it couldn't have been. Could it? The surname was different...the report had said she'd been married and seperated. What had been the mother's surname when she was wailing on screen? He couldn't remember...it wasn't her, it couldn't be. That would have been too much of a coincidence. Well, would it really have been a coincidence? He'd only thought about Libby because Elizabeth had looked like her. No, it still couldn't have been her. Things like that never happened to him. Libby was alive and well and still smiling somewhere. Did that make him happy? Sadly not. Sadly! He was sad again! That was something. Thank you Libby, and Elizabeth, he thought.
"Still," he said out loud, to no one. "That overdose sure wiped the smile off her face!"
He groand.
He smiled,even as the news report about the woman his age being found dead in her house of a heroin overdose, after two weeks continued, he smiled at the memory.
He had been...ten? Seemed like a good estimate. Maybe nine...could he have been eight? Ten was probably a bit too old. He would have know better by ten, surely. Okay, he'd say nine. He'd been nine. He'd been nine and he'd hit a girl in the face.
Couldn't be her, he thought, as the news report continued. The name was different. This girl was called Elizabeth, his girl was called...something else. Not Elizabeth. The girl he's smacked in the face as a child wasn't called Elizabeth.
But in context, it wasn't so bad! He laughed as he thought that, laughed even as the woman's grieving mother appeared on screen. God, she was crying so loudly! He put the sound off. He laughed at the memory of the girl crying. He laughed at the memory of the shocked looks on his friends faces. He laughed at how small and pathetic he himself had been, to slap a girl! He laughed at how he managed to bullshit his way out of it with the teacher by telling her the girl had provoked him in some vague way. She had done nothing of the sort, but he had always been well behaved before that incident so perhaps the teached had concluded that there must have been some good reason for what he had done.
Most of all, he laughed at the memory of the reason, the exact reason, why he had slapped the girl hard in the face.
She wouldn't stop smiling.
He had struck a girl becasue she wouldn't stop smiling! Had he thought she was making fun of him? Possibly. Often when he saw people smiling, even now in fact, he would think they were making fun of him. Perhaps it was because he didn't understand or experience human emotions himself. It was only natural that he'd be confused by how normal people act. Didn't she always smile, though? He seemed to remember that. Maybe she just had one of those faces...one of those faces where it always looked like she was smiling. Yes, he could imagine why he would not have liked that...he still wouldn't like it today. So he'd hit her. To get her to stop or just out of anger? As an experiment? That was it, an experiment. He had treated another human being as an experiment. That made him laugh out loud again, in a manic, false kind of way. Not a natural laugh, but a mad scientist, artifical kind of laugh. Nothing about him was natural.
What had her name been again? Started with an L, he thought.
Maybe he was evil. He'd thought of that before. Hitting a girl in the face to watch her cry, it was sociopathic! And some of the other things he'd thought about now and again over the years, imagined doing...laughing at news reports of girls being murded. Oh, what a stereotype, he hated girls! He was a walking serial killer cliche!
Except he'd never actually done anything evil. He didn't even think about doing evil things very often. Sometimes he'd almost force himself to, like it was expected of him to think evil things. But he wasn't particularly evil. He wasn't particularly anything. He just was. He was small and pathetic, worse now than he had been then. Much worse.
The photo flashed up on screen again, the one that had got him thinking about the girl he'd slapped. It was a photo of the woman a few years before he death, smiling happily...such a big, vibrant smile. No clue in that smile that she'd end up dying in such a horrible way, forgotten by the world, lying there curled up in a ball for two weeks, the needle still in her arm. He felt sad. He actually felt sad! How did that happen? Thinking about it made it go away. He tried to feel it again, but he couldn't. Damn it!
Libby, that had been her name. He smiled at her name.
Maybe it wasn't too late to do something evil, something REALLY evil. It was what he was destined for, right? He certainly couldn't be destined to do anything good! He could...well, no, he couldn't. He could never kill anyone. Maybe he could slap little girls in the face again and watch them cry? Recreated his one glorious evil act?
No, he couldn't do that.
The news report was over. Poor Elizabeth, he thought, and did his mad scientist laugh again. Just another dead girl. He wondered what had happened to Libby, the girl he had slapped...
Libby, short, of course, for Elizabeth.
No, it couldn't have been. Could it? The surname was different...the report had said she'd been married and seperated. What had been the mother's surname when she was wailing on screen? He couldn't remember...it wasn't her, it couldn't be. That would have been too much of a coincidence. Well, would it really have been a coincidence? He'd only thought about Libby because Elizabeth had looked like her. No, it still couldn't have been her. Things like that never happened to him. Libby was alive and well and still smiling somewhere. Did that make him happy? Sadly not. Sadly! He was sad again! That was something. Thank you Libby, and Elizabeth, he thought.
"Still," he said out loud, to no one. "That overdose sure wiped the smile off her face!"
He groand.
