Girl of my Dreams

Have you ever woke up feeling like there’s no point in leaving your room? For me, that feeling is second nature. I know that I have to get up, go to school, go home, do my homework, and then sleep again, but why couldn’t I just skip all of it? It’s not like anybody would miss me. I wasn’t a member of any school activities, didn’t play any sports, didn’t really do anything. I used to have reasons to get up in the morning. I remember getting up because I wanted to talk to my friends, get good grades so my parents would get me something that I wanted at the time. But then everything seemed to pale in comparison to what I felt on October 14th, 2013. For the first time in my life I experienced this feeling. It was like no other, and I couldn’t describe it any other way than perfect.

That feeling was love.

She was like a female version of me. Left handed, enjoyed rock music, slightly emo, got my sense of humor. And she was all I ever wanted. She was the girl of my dreams. She wasn’t a model, but she was pretty as all hell. I couldn’t stay away from her. At least, mentally. On the side of me that was bound by the physical world, I stayed put. Making sure that I wasn’t following her, or even looked like I was interested. I didn’t want to make anybody suspicious. It took me 3 solid months to ask her out. I had the perfect plan that day. I wore my best clothes, used about ⅓ of the shampoo and body wash I had, put on nice cologne, and went out the door. I waited until 7th period to do it. I finally asked her out. My voice was confident, my posture was good, and I knew she liked the restaurant. So imagine what I felt when she told me

“No.”

One word, and I felt like I lost everything. She didn’t say that we could still be friends. She just walked slightly faster, looking back once, but quickly turning away from me. The rest of the periods felt like nothing. Time ticked by one hour per second. And before I knew it, I was home. I put on my usual smile as I entered the door to see my mother, and it felt like the biggest lie I ever told. There wasn’t anything to say. I just went upstairs and locked the door to my room. And I did that ever since, only going out for dinner, and then… Sleeping.

Three months later, and I’m still not over her. But I’ve been getting better at it. I’ve started to become more accepted by her as a friend, and not the complete stranger who asked her out months earlier. I noticed that she really liked a band that I was particularly interested in too. Fall Out Boy. And in my head, I made another plan. I was not about to give up on this girl. I would not let the girl of my dreams go that easy.

I spent the rest of the month gathering as much money as I could, doing odd jobs, and even selling a couple of things. And at the end of the month, I had all the money I needed. 600 US Dollars. I had it at last. I went onto Ticketmaster.com and looked for Fall Out Boy concerts in the summer. I found one in July, and clicked on it. I then clicked on the already sold out VIP booth, and went to order the Platinum seats reserved for those who forked over the money to buy them. I was one of those people. I bought two 300 dollar tickets, and when I finally got them, I printed them out, and took it to school the next day.

I then had a case of deja vu. I did everything I did before. Best clothes, smelled nice, 7th period, confident voice… Same response. At first she didn’t believe me, but then I took out the tickets and showed her. She blushed, and declined my offer. It was so polite, but it felt like she just kicked me in the throat. After that, I had a single thought. No anger, no emotion on my face. Just one thought that would plague my life forever.

 

I will never find love.

 

After that, life became a ritual that I was more or less observing rather than interacting with. I got up, ate breakfast, went to school, came home, did homework, ate dinner, went to sleep. Every day. For the rest of the school year. I stayed home when my family went out, and started therapy the following school year. And when I told my parents why I was this way, they just told me to get over it. As if it was ever that simple for me, or for anybody else who’s lost something. You don’t go to funerals, telling people crying for the ones they’ve lost to get over it. I started taking antidepressants in December but the mere fact that I had to take them was killing me on the inside more than they were helping.

But on our last day of Grade 10 something amazing happened. She went up to me. And asked me to go on a date. I blinked hard. I must have been dreaming. But here I was, sitting alone on at an empty lunch table, with the girl of my dreams standing in front of me. I said yes, but tried to hide my inner excitement. Time flew by, and before I even knew it, we were at the local Chimney Rock. Together. Like I always wanted it to be. Everything went perfectly. The food was nice, I made some good jokes, and she seemed to be into me. After that, we left the restaurant. Her friends were supposed to pick her up, so I ended up taking my bike home. It was fairly close, anyways. I turned around to wave goodbye.

Dear God, I wish I didn’t.

I turned around, only to see her with her friends. They were doing something with her. I looked a bit closer, and I saw.

They were giving her money. It was a trick the whole time.

I rode home, tears streaming down my face as I did. I took 5 minutes to compose myself after I entered my empty home. I didn’t know what to do. I was fucking lied to. It was a setup the whole time. I can’t believe myself. How could I not have seen this coming!? And the next day, she avoided me. The entire time, she actively avoided contact with me. That pretty much confirmed it. And then, just like before, the thought came into my mind.

 

I will never find love.

 

But this time, I knew it more than I ever did. I was going to be lonely forever. And then another thought came into my mind. It was a sudden realization, and it was like striking a match in a dark room.

This is because of her.

All of it. The depression, the therapy, the pills, all of this was because of her. I had to take action. I have had it with all of her shit. I was going to do something about it. I stormed into the kitchen, and put the largest knife I could find into my backpack. I then went back on my bike, and rode over to her house. Throughout the entire ride, I was yelling profanities in my head.

Two faced

Disgusting

Slut

Bitch

Piece of shit

Bane of my existence

…

…

…

“Girl of my Dreams.”

I finally got to her house, and opened the door. Her parents must have had it unlocked for her. I went inside, not even making sure that I was being quiet, and took the knife out of my backpack. I went into her room, and finally found her on her bed. I charged at her, and stabbed her in her abdomen. Her screams were wonderful. Her moans of pain as I took the knife out of her was music to my ears. I then decided that I was going to have a bit of fun. I then tore into her breast with the blade of the knife, already covered in her blood. I relished in every second that she was in agony. I put the knife down, and proceeded to do everything I always wanted to do with her. I unleashed my inner lust, tearing off her clothes, touching her, outright raping her until she bled out in front of me. My desires were fulfilled. It’s a shame that she had to die naked. Covered in her own blood. But to be honest, she looked better that way. I then proceeded to make my way out the door, but not before turning back to take one last good look of the girl of my dreams.