I spent the rest of my first month trying as hard as I could to put myself out in the social environment of Isla Vista. Daniel was twenty three years old, so I asked him to purchase some alcohol for me, a bottle of vodka in particular. In that college town, everyone went out with at least a little alcohol in their system. I wasn’t an alcoholic, but drinking alcohol always helped me with being more confident and sociable. On weekend nights, I took a few shots from my vodka bottle and set out on walks around the town, desperately hoping that I would stumble across some opportunity to make friends. I often ended up sitting alone at some café, hoping girls would talk to me before I sobered up. No girl ever did. I then went back home to lie in my bed alone.
On one such night I got drunk enough to introduce myself to some other students who lived in the same apartment complex. They were sitting in the common area of the apartment, and I went up to their group and sat down with them. They weren’t hostile towards me, and I was able to exchange some form of small talk with them. After a while though, I ended up just sitting there awkwardly, and they eventually questioned why I was so quiet. I hated when people did that… no one ever understands the troubles of someone who suffers from social anxiety. They offered me a few beers, which I gladly accepted. I ended up getting so drunk that I completely blacked out. I stumbled back to my apartment and vomited on the floor, just like I did on that embarrassing night at Addison Altendorf’s birthday party.
The next morning, I didn’t even remember that I vomited. Daniel informed me of what happened, with an amused grin on his face. I felt so ashamed, but at least I did something more social than anything else I’ve done in the last few years. That was some progress, I supposed.
Due to living in an entirely new environment, with lots of new experiences to come with it, the first month in Santa Barbara went by very slowly. I was relieved when July arrived, and I was able to visit home for a weekend. When I arrived back in Woodland Hills, I felt like I hadn’t been there for ages. It was a pleasant feeling, as it gave me the subconscious impression that my life was finally moving forward instead of staying stagnant.
When I arrived back at my mother’s apartment, she was away at work, and Georgia was at school. I took a moment to relax after going through so much trauma and unrest, catching up on all of the Game of Thrones episodes that I missed, including the Season 1 finale. Later that night, I met my mother and father at an upscale restaurant near Warner Center, and they both seemed very proud of me. I wasn’t proud of myself, as I barely met my expectations in my first month in Santa Barbara. I had an exquisite meal at the restaurant, and while there I saw a pretty girl walk in with her family. I glanced at her and she glanced at me. I desperately wondered if she thought I was attractive, and I tried to convince myself that she was attracted to me, in an effort to feel better about myself. Whether she was attracted to me or not is a question I will never know the answer to.
There was no school on the following Monday, due to the 4th of July Holiday. I went with my mother to the annual 4th of July party at the Lemelson’s. There, I saw James for the first time in a while. It felt good to see him again. He had been ignoring me in the last couple of months, but the two of us reignited our good friendship at the party. I told him that I was now going to college in Santa Barbara, and he seemed happy for me. As I ate dinner with him, Noah, and a few of Noah’s friends at a table outside, I filmed a funny video that I still have on my phone to this day.
On the next morning, I made my drive back to Santa Barbara to finish the second half of my summer session. I prayed that I would have a better experience from then on.
When I got back to Capri Apartments it was time for me to transfer to my permanent apartment unit, the apartment unit that I was set to stay in for the whole year. I loaded all of my belongings into my car and said goodbye to Daniel and Reed. I enjoyed my stay with them. They made for excellent college housemates. Before I left, Daniel told me that I should come to visit in the future.
My new apartment was in another Capri Apartments building. The main building was on Seville Road, in the center of Isla Vista. The other building that I was meant to stay at was on Abrego Road, a few blocks away, towards the edge of the town. At first I was unsure of the location, though it was still walking distance from all of the action. It was definitely quieter in that area, so that was a positive.
One of the receptionists showed me to my new bedroom. The apartment unit was empty. My new housemates wouldn’t be moving in until August, so I would have the whole apartment to myself for the month of July. I quite liked that. It would provide me with the comfort to settle into the place. I had no idea who my new housemates were going to be, and I was hoping they would be people I could be friends with to help improve my social life. All of the rooms were randomly assigned at Capri Apartments, so I had no control over who I would end up with. I could only hope that they would be at least tolerable, because they were to be my housemates for the whole year.
My father drove up to Santa Barbara to meet me a few days later. The two of us went to have lunch at a restaurant in the Camino Real Marketplace, an area that I often frequented. When we sat down at our table, I saw a young couple sitting a few tables down the row. The sight of them enraged me to no end, especially because it was a dark-skinned Mexican guy dating a hot blonde white girl. I regarded it as a great insult to my dignity. How could an inferior Mexican guy be able to date a white blonde girl, while I was still suffering as a lonely virgin? I was ashamed to be in such an inferior position in front my father.
When I saw the two of them kissing, I could barely contain my rage. I stood up in anger, and I was about to walk up to them and pour my glass of soda all over their heads. I probably would have, if father wasn’t there. I was seething with envious rage, and my father was there to watch it all. It was so humiliating. I wasn’t the son I wanted to present to my father. I should be the one with the hot blonde girl, making my father proud. Instead, my father had to watch me suffer in a pathetic position. Life is so cruel to me. When I said my farewell to father before he drove home, I felt absolutely miserable. I then went back to my room and sulked for hours.
Another incident happened on the following day, near the same location. I went to the Starbucks at the Camino Real Marketplace by myself, like I usually did every morning. I ordered my coffee and sat down on one of their chairs to relax. A few moments later, when I looked up from my drink, I saw a young couple standing in line. The two of them were kissing passionately. The boy looked like an obnoxious punk; he was tall and wore baggy pants. The girl was a pretty blonde! They looked like they were in the throes of passionate sexual attraction to each other, rubbing their bodies together and tongue kissing in front of everyone. I was absolutely livid with envious hatred. When they left the store I followed them to their car and splashed my coffee all over them. The boy yelled at me and I quickly ran away in fear. I was panicking as I got into my car and drove off, shaking with rage-fueled excitement. I drove all the way to the Vons at the Fairview Plaza and spent three hours in my car trying to contain my tumultuous emotions. I had never struck back at my enemies before, and I felt a small sense of spiteful gratification for doing so. I hated them so much. Even though I splashed them with my coffee, he was still the winner. He was going home to have passionate heavenly sex with his beautiful girlfriend, and I was going home to my lonely room to sleep alone in my lonely bed. I had never felt so miserable and mistreated in my life. I cursed the world for condemning me to such suffering.
I wanted to do horrible things to that couple. I wanted to inflict pain on all young couples. It was around this point in my life that I realized I was capable of doing such things. I would happily do such things. I was capable of killing them, and I wanted to. I wanted to kill them slowly, to strip the skins off their flesh. They deserve it. The males deserve it for taking the females away from me, and the females deserve it for choosing those males instead of me.
Ever since I was seventeen, I often fantasized a
bout becoming powerful and inflicting suffering upon everyone who has wronged me in the past, but I never thought I would actually do it. At this point, after going through so much suffering and injustice, all of my innocence had been swept away. The world had been cruel to me, and it molded me to become strong enough to actually have the capability of returning that cruelness to the world. I had never been a violent person in nature, but after building up so much hatred over the years, I realized that I wouldn’t hesitate to kill or even torture my hated enemies if I was given the opportunity.
I spent the next five days in my room, trying to forget about the horrific experiences I had to go through. But even in my room, I couldn’t escape from being reminded of my worthlessness. Every time I looked out my window to the courtyard, I saw young people socializing. Obnoxious drunk boys were chatting up pretty girls, and I wondered with great panic if they would be having sex together in the night. I often fantasized about barging into their rooms while they had sex and slashing them to death with my knife.
Before I knew it, it was July 12th and the countdown on my internet homepage was up. The new Song of Ice and Fire book, A Dance with Dragons, was released. I emailed my mother to order me the book from Amazon. The countdown was ultimately over, and I had nothing to show for it. I was still a virgin, even after a month of living in a town full of college kids who had sex all the time. I realized that I had only twelve more days as a teenager! I was going to turn twenty very soon. One of my hopes was to at least lose my virginity before my time as a teenager was over. Being a virgin at the age of twenty would make me feel very defeated.
I made a bid to do everything I could to lose my virginity in those few remaining days I had. With a tremendous amount of panic, I wondered what I could possible do. The only thing I could think of was to go out to the common areas of Isla Vista as much as possible. I had to put myself out there, even if it only increased my chances of having sex by one percent. One percent was still better than zero.
For those crucial twelve days I had left as a teenager, I walked over to the center of Isla Vista every day and sat at one of the tables outside Domino’s Pizza, hoping against hope that a girl would come up and talk to me. Why wouldn’t they? I looked good enough, didn’t I? Or did I not look good enough? Such thoughts flew through my head in frantic waves. For dinner, I always walked over to the healthy restaurant called Silvergreen’s. There were always hot girls there, but none of them deigned to even look at me. On every one of those nights, I walked home alone, with my head down in defeat.
I made no progress in school either. My geography class had no pretty girls in it, so I had no hope there. I spent a lot of time sitting in the cafeteria area, but all of the beautiful girls I saw intimidated me too much. One time, as I was walking across the huge bridge that connected the two campuses, I passed by a girl I thought was pretty and said “Hi” as we neared each other. She kept on walking and didn’t even have the grace to respond to me. How dare she! That foul bitch. I felt so humiliated that I went to one of the school bathrooms, locked myself in a toilet stall, and cried for an hour.
On one of my very last days as a teenager, as I was sitting at my usual place at the food court outside Domino’s, I saw a sight that shattered my heart to pieces. A tall, blonde, jock-type guy walked into one of the restaurants, and at his side was one of the sexiest girls I had ever seen. She too was tall and blonde. They were both taller than me, and they kissed each other passionately. They made me feel so inferior and worthless and small. I glared at them with intense hatred as I sat by myself in my lonely misery. I could never have a girl like that. The sight was burned into my memory, and it caused a scar that will haunt me forever. When they walked away, I followed them in my car for a few minutes, and when they entered a less inhabited area I opened my window and splashed my iced tea all over them. It was all I could do at the time, but at least it was something. At least I made some effort to fight back against the injustice. I felt sick with hatred that night. The hatred boiled inside me with burning vitriol.
My summer session ended with no positive effect on my life. After I completed my final exam, on which I received the grade of a B, I drove back to my hometown feeling defeated.
Shortly after, my 20th birthday finally came. Soumaya and Jazz were away in Morocco for the summer, so father met up with me, my mother, and my sister at an upscale restaurant in Encino. My parents didn’t show any concern for how miserable I felt about being a twenty-year-old virgin. They treated it as if it was any normal birthday. They didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, which annoyed me immensely. The restaurant had an “all-you-can eat” buffet system, and I greatly stuffed myself that night. Delicious food was the only vice I was able to enjoy, since I was deprived of sex. I had a very fast metabolism, so I could eat as much as I wanted without getting fat. I suppose that was one advantage in my rather disadvantageous life.
When I got back to my mother’s apartment, she let me have a bottle of wine, and I truly drank my fill.
“Everything’s better with some wine in the belly.” I spent the rest of the night pondering over what was in store for me at that point in life. I was no longer a teenager, and I’ll never be able to experience having sex as a teenager. My teenage years were completely denied to me by the cruelness of women.
The only way I could make up for it was if I could have an extraordinary sex life in my twenties. I would have to have a profoundly amazing decade in my twenties to compensate for all the misery I experienced in my teens. If I fail to do that, then I have nothing to live for. Sadly, I will only experience the opposite in my early twenties, and it will destroy me.
20 Years Old
I stayed in my hometown for a week. One of my birthday presents was a gift card to Nordstrom. I spent it on a couple of new polo shirts that made me feel a little more confident. Buying new clothes would always give me a temporary boost of confidence, and I practiced it as if it was a drug.
Before I left for Santa Barbara, I reunited with Philip and Addison after a very long period of not seeing them. The three of us met up at the Calabasas Commons, and then we went in Philip’s car to Malibu for a few adventures. We ended up settling down at Starbucks and had a few insightful conversations. Addison had changed and matured tremendously, and he was no longer associating with the popular Malibu high school kids. This didn’t change my resentment towards him, and I kept confronting him the whole time about the insulting way he treated me over a year ago. After a lot of debating, we agreed to resolve our conflict with each other. This didn’t mean I forgot all of the slights he dealt to me in the past, however. I never forget. I never forgive. One day I’ll show him how superior I am.
On the day after I saw Philip and Addison, I went over to James’s house. I hadn’t been there for ages, and the two of us relived our traditional walks around the Palisades town center, just like old times. It felt strange and nostalgic to experience it after so long, especially after going through so many changes in Santa Barbara. I told James about my turmoil of being a twenty-year-old virgin, and my desperate hope that things will get better once I start my Autumn semester at my new college. I talked about all the beautiful blonde girls I saw walking around my college, and my deep wish that I will have one day have one as a girlfriend. James sympathized with me greatly, for he was also going through similar troubles in life. He seemed glad that I was finally taking some steps to bring changes to my life.
I drove back to Santa Barbara in a slightly better mood than I was in when I left it. I had a month until the new semester started, and I could use that time to prepare and recuperate. My new housemates were meant to move into the second bedroom of my apartment on August 5th. I had an anxious feeling of anticipation for what they will be like.
August 5th came quickly, and I prepared myself to be in a pleasant mood to meet them. Their names were Ryan and Angel, and to my dismay they were of Hispanic race. In addition, the two of them were already friends with each other, which me
ant that they could possibly gang up against me if any conflicts were to arise. They also seemed like rowdy, low-class types. My first impression of them soured me, but I tried to be pleasant and not show it. The two of them acted cordial to me on the first day, but after observing them for a bit, I had a bad feeling that they would be trouble to live with… And they were to be my housemates for a whole year! When I was alone in my room, I panicked to myself at how dire a situation this was. This was extremely disappointing. I was hoping I would get decent, mature, clean-cut housemates. Instead I got low-class scum.
On the second day, they started inviting their equally rowdy friends into my apartment, and we exchanged more small talk. To my indignant surprise, they asked me the question I always dreaded answering: “Are you a virgin?” I admitted that I was a virgin. I always admitted the truth about this. It was my life struggle, and I couldn’t lie about such a thing. They then had the audacity to tell me that they lost their virginity long ago, bragging about all the girls they had slept with. I particularly hated Angel because of his ugly pig-face. How could such an ugly animal have had sexual experiences with girls, and yet I haven’t? What was wrong with this world? I got so angry that I went to my room and punched the wall. They heard me and started laughing. It was almost a repeat of what I experienced with that black boy named Chance in the old apartment, except this time it was worse because these were my housemates for the year!
On the day after, I almost got into a physical fight with Angel. The ugly pig kept acting as if girls thought he was more attractive than me. Hah! I am a beautiful, magnificent gentleman and he is a low-class, pig-faced thug. I had enough of his cocksure attitude, and I started to call him exactly what he was.
My Twisted World Page 19
