My Twisted World

by Elliot Rodger

  Every day that I spent at my college, the more inferior and invisible I felt. I felt like such an inferior mouse whenever I saw guys walking with beautiful girls. I hated having to endure it, but I had already worked so hard on my two classes that I couldn’t quit just then. The only way that I could gain a boost in to my self-esteem was to buy better looking clothes.

  My mother gave me a few more gift cards to Nordstrom, and I spent them on $200 dollar designer Jeans. When I wore these to school, I saw that I was wearing better Jeans than most other guys, and that made me have a slightly higher sense of self-worth. I also bought a few more shirts, and a pair of new Hugo Boss sneakers.

  Doing this started a new obsession for me. I became more and more obsessed with my appearance.

  Because my mother, father, and grandmother constantly paid me extra money now that I was living in Santa Barbara, I had saved up enough to indulge in this obsession. Familiarizing myself with all of the top designer brands, I bought new clothes every time I visited my hometown. My favorite brands were Hugo Boss and Armani. I always stopped by at the Camarillo shopping center on my way back to Santa Barbara. I loved it there – they had a store for almost every brand.

  One time, as I was shopping at the Calvin Klein store in Camarillo, I saw such a sexy-looking blonde girl with perfectly tanned skin. She looked so beautiful and sexy that I had an erection instantly. Oh, the heavenly things I wanted to do to her… And then I saw her hunk of a boyfriend. My entire being was filled with anguish and despair. I could only imagine how amazing and pleasurable that guy’s life was.

  They were older than me – probably mid-twenties – and I thought with desperate hope that when I’m that man’s age I would be worthy enough to have such a girlfriend by my side, to shop with her at that same shopping mall in heavenly bliss. My life was a life of starvation and yearning.

  I visited home for Thanksgiving, and went with my mother to Rob Lemelson’s house for a small Thanksgiving get-together. James was there… And the last time I spoke to him since then was when we had our bitter argument online. The one person who has been my friend through all of my hardship didn’t even want to speak to me during Thanksgiving. I tried to ask him why he was overreacting about an argument we had two months previously, but he just glared at me coldly and told me to “keep my proximity”. I was highly offended.

  After a few hours, the Thanksgiving feast was served. To my profound annoyance, Julian Ritz-Barr and his equally obnoxious older brother Leon Ritz-Barr also came for the dinner. I remembered the extreme envy I felt for Julian months ago, and I tried to ignore them as much as possible, which proved to be difficult because they talked loudly all the time.

  I was seated next to James for the dinner, and after awkwardly sitting next to each other for a few moments, he decided to warm up to me again. As the two of us caught up with each other about our lives, a small inkling of our old friendship ignited like a weak flitter of flame in a candle. It was nice, for the brief moment that it lasted. The two of us talked about our usual fantasy scenarios, and joked about how stupid and obnoxious the Ritz-Barr brothers were acting.

  On that same weekend that I went home, I got together with Philip and Addison. The three of us went out to a restaurant in L.A., and then we headed to the Griffith Park Observatory, just like old times.

  The last time I was there with the two of them was on that horrible night when Addison told me that “No girl will ever want to fuck me.” The words were still embedded in my mind, and going to Griffith Park reminded me of that night. The three of us took a few pictures of us posing at various spots at the Observatory, some of which were uploaded onto Facebook, and then we went to the Calabasas Commons to hang out at Barnes & Noble, where I had a few insightful conversations with Addison.

  Despite our past hostilities, I considered Addison to be one of the most interesting people I knew.

  I went back to Santa Barbara for a couple of weeks to finish off my two classes. In my history class, I kept feeling weak with inferiority as I watched this tall, handsome blonde jock constantly sit and talk with two beautiful girls. There was no way that I couldn’t watch it; they were in the middle of the class. I hated that class so much, and I decided to stop attending it until the final exam. Once I took the final exams, I felt glad to be done with those horrifically frustrating college classes.

  It was just as I had feared. My first actual semester at Santa Barbara City College was an absolute, brutal failure. I didn’t even have one girl’s phone number in my cell phone. Was I going to be a virgin forever? I franticly wondered as I drove away from my school after taking my exams. I felt like my whole life was over. If I couldn’t make it in such a beautiful and opportunistic place like Santa Barbara, then I was doomed to misery and dissatisfaction. I knew that I would rather die than suffer such a fate, and I knew that if it came to that, I would do everything I can to exact revenge before I die. I didn’t want it to resort to that! Some part of me still clung to hope. I didn’t want to give up so soon.

  As I made the long scenic drive back to my hometown for the Holidays, I made a vow to give it all another try when I start my new semester in the Spring, and to use the time I had during the winter break to prepare for it as much as I could.

  My mother told me that she had made plans for me, my sister, and her to go to England for a week.

  Upon hearing this, I said I didn’t want to go. I felt so dissatisfied and defeated, and I didn’t want to appear that way to my relatives in England. There was nothing about me that they could be proud of. I felt ashamed of having to face them the way I was. After some persuasion, I agreed to go. I figured that if anything, it would give me a respite from all the pain society has dealt to me, just like our old visits to Jack’s beach house in Malibu.

  Before we left for England, we attended the annual Christmas party at the Lemelson’s. I had recently bought a flashy new shirt from Armani Exchange that made me feel particularly fabulous, so I decided to wear it for the party. I loved admiring how awesome I looked in the mirror as I wore it. Wearing flashy new clothes made me feel like a new person. I found it to be a very efficient way to boost my confidence. When I entered the party, I felt gratified when Sue Lemelson, Rob’s ex-wife, complimented me on how good I looked. My mother pointed out that it was unusual for Sue to compliment anyone, so I must have made a good impression.

  James was at the party, of course. He didn’t act outwardly cold toward me this time, but there was still a distance between us. During the course of the event, I had my fill of multiple glasses of wine as I casually chatted with James about my insights and life problems. We interacted as if we were still friends, but I could tell that things were very different between us. The friendship that we have had for so long was dying. When I said goodbye to him that night, it was the last time I ever saw him.

  After having a quick Christmas celebration at father’s house, I took off for England with my mother and sister. We flew Business Class on Virgin Atlantic, and since they followed the laws of the U.K., I was allowed to drink alcohol on the flight. I took delight in sipping the wine that was served while I enjoyed the relaxing journey. The last time I had been on an airplane since then was the disastrous trip to Morocco when I was seventeen, and this made for a pleasant contrast.

  When we landed in England I felt the sense of wonder that came with being in another country. I hadn’t been to my home country of England for almost a decade, and I couldn’t believe I was there once again. The decision to go on the trip came so quickly. We stayed at a very nice hotel in the town of Colchester, near where my relatives on my mother’s side live, including my grandma Ah Mah. After we unpacked all of our belongings, we went to their house for dinner. I hadn’t seen those relatives since our trip to Malaysia. It felt peculiar to see them all again. They were exactly the same as I remembered. It was very heartwarming to see that grandma Ah Mah had baked her delicious peanut cookies that I loved so much as a child; she had them ready and waiting for me.

>   We visited them again on Christmas Day. They prepared an exquisite lunch, and afterward we exchanged our gifts. I got a bit drunk on that day, as it was the only thing I could do to pass the time. I tried to relax and forget about all of the pain I had experienced in Santa Barbara. I wished there was something I could talk to my relatives about that would make them proud, but there was nothing interesting or impressive about my life to talk about. I wished that I could show my grandma that I was thriving in Santa Barbara; that I had a girlfriend and I was enjoying a full and healthy life. But no, that is something I was never able to do. I felt so ashamed of myself.

  My grandma, Ah Mah, gave me a gift of great value. After we exchanged all of the presents with the relatives, Ah Mah presented me with a 22 karat golden necklace. It was very extravagant, and it had been in her possession for a long time. Now it was mine. I wore it instantly and took a great liking to it.

  From then on, I would wear it in every waking moment. I could have sold it for well over a thousand dollars, but I never did. It was special to me.

  My favorite part of the trip was the breakfasts at the hotel. The hotel we stayed at was quite luxurious, even by my standards. And the breakfasts… they were absolutely delicious. Every morning there was a buffet full of delectable choices, such as crispy pork sausage, croissants, bacon, ham, roast potatoes, all kinds of fruit, and much more. On every one of those mornings, I stuffed myself like there was no tomorrow. I was deprived of sex all my life, so the only vice that I could derive a sense of pleasure from was eating delicious food. I took full advantage of that on this trip. My high metabolism prevented me from getting fat from it.

  Before the trip was over, we all went on a tour through London. We were supposed to visit grandma Jinx in Smarden on that same day, but grandma Jinx was in France at the time. We rented a comfortable Mercedes van that could fit eight people and made a long drive through the English countryside to the capital city of London. I didn’t remember much of the city from my previous visits, so it was kind of like a new experience for me. I found the city to be very ugly in most areas, but in contrast there were some attractive parts that were awash with beautiful architecture and a cultural atmosphere. Once we parked our van we set out on foot, and sometimes took the Underground subway, to explore all of the main attractions of the city. It was cold, dreadfully cold, but I bore it without much concern. Walking through the streets of London at night, especially in Trafalgar Square and the area around Harrods was truly breathtaking, or it would have been if I had a beautiful girlfriend by my side to experience it with me. It was the sort of place that one would go with a girlfriend, and I had none. I saw other men being able to experience it with their girlfriends, and the sight soured my whole experience. When we had dinner at a restaurant, I scoffed a big meal and imbibed two glasses of wine to make myself feel better during the rest of our tour. My favorite part was walking through the store Harrods. Harrods is a gigantic, renowned luxury designer clothing store. Every facet of it exuded beauty and excessive opulence. It was my type of place. I wished I was rich enough to buy anything I wanted at the store – there were so many choices of fabulous clothing – but alas, I had to settle with buying only one Giorgio Armani shirt. If my mother had been wise enough to marry one of those wealthy men she dated, perhaps then I would have been rich enough. Such a pity.

  At the end of the night of our London tour, I felt cold and miserable. Walking through that exciting, cultural city made me realize that the world was full of wonders to explore, but if I had to do it alone while other men were able to do it with their girlfriends, then what was the point? My life was so mundane and wasteful compared to the lives all those other men lived. They were in heaven and I was in hell.

  When we took off on the airplane for the journey home, I wondered how my life would have turned out if we never moved to the United States. I saw a lot of beautiful blonde girls in England, just like there were in California. Would I have lived a completely different type of life? Would I have been able to have a girlfriend in England? Would girls in England have been more accepting of a guy like me? Those are questions I will never know the answer to.

  I spent a few hours recovering from jet lag after we arrived home. On the day after that, it was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t want a repeat of the previous New Year’s, when I spent them alone and miserable in my room, so I decided to go with my father and Soumaya to a party and Antje Twinn’s house. My father was still friends with them, despite not being friends with the Bubenheim’s anymore. I wanted to wear something new for the party, in order to boost my sense of self-confidence, so I went to Nordstrom and bought a new, flashy Hugo Boss shirt, decorated with different hues of blue.

  I didn’t have dinner before the party, because I expected dinner to be served there. When we got there, I saw that they didn’t offer dinner, only a few party snacks; but there was lots and lots of wine. I heard from Antje that Vincent was in town, but he was attending a party at Leo Bubenheim’s house, with all of Leo’s popular teenage friends. The mere mention of Leo put me in a bad mood. I couldn’t believe that Vincent, too, was now experiencing the pleasures of partying with young people while I sat all alone at the adult’s party, sipping my wine in lonely depression. I should be partying with my own friends, and my own girlfriends, but I had NONE.

  After I had already gotten quite drunk from having so much wine on an empty stomach, I overheard Antje talking to her friend about how Vincent now had a beautiful girlfriend. She was so proud of her son. That is something my mother was never able to tell her friends about me. I had never had a girlfriend in my WHOLE LIFE! I remember when Vincent used to be a little nine-year-old boy while I was thirteen. He used to look up to me, and he always watched me play my online games on father’s laptop.

  Now, he was sixteen and I was twenty. He had the pleasure of having a girlfriend, while I’ve never had one. I was four years older than him, but he surpassed me. The envy, rage, and feeling of inferiority I felt almost made me explode with rage right there at the party, but instead I went to the bathroom and vented to myself in the mirror of how much I hate Vincent and wanted to kill him. I drank a lot more wine that night, pouring myself glass after glass. By the time Vincent arrived after his party at Leo’s, I greeted him with drunken contempt, and drank even more wine. I drank too much. On the next morning, I thanked the heavens that at the end of the party I had the sense to go to the bathroom to vomit instead of vomiting in front of everyone. That would have been extremely embarrassing.

  I spent a week at my mother’s house before I went back to Santa Barbara to give my life there another try. During this week, I once again met up with Philip and Addison. This outing was much longer than the last. I decided to wear the same Hugo Boss shirt that I wore for New Year’s. First, we went on a hike up to the Hollywood sign and watched the glorious sunset. Afterwards, we visited the Getty Museum to admire the brilliant scenery and architecture. While there, I overheard Philip telling Addison that some girls were checking him out. Feeling jealous, I asked Philip if any of those girls checked me out, and he had the audacity to say no, none of them did. I felt so heartbroken that I left the two of them and cried to myself, ruining my whole experience at the museum. How could girls check out Addison but not me? I asked myself repeatedly as I tried to hide my tears from people who walked by me. I walked out to the edge of the grand terrace of the museum, looking out at the city lights of Los Angeles as well as the stars above. In that moment, I fell into a sort of despair-ridden trance, contemplating my reason for existing in this universe and what was in store for my future. It was a very ominous and surreal experience. I calmed down when we left the museum and acted cordial to both of them. I didn’t want to spoil the night with my emotional problems. We toured around Hollywood for a bit, and while there I saw lots of young people out and about with their attractive cliques of friends. The sight enraged me for the rest of the night. We decided to have dinner at a restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. At the restaurant, there were
three hot model-like girls who sat a few tables down from us.

  Their bodies looked so sexy and tantalizing that Philip had to go to the bathroom to masturbate. I was itching to do exactly the same thing, but I didn’t want to look like a fool in front of Addison.

  When I got home, I began to cry because of all the emotions I experienced that night. My mother heard me and showed some concern, as she always did. She was used to me crying a lot, but she never understood why I was so miserable. I always had to explain it to her – that I was a lonely, miserable, unwanted virgin who women treated with disdain – but she could never grasp how severe this was to me. After all, how could she? She was a woman herself.

  I arrived back in Santa Barbara with a renewed, carefully constructed sense of confidence, especially because of the new collection of designer clothes I had bought over the winter break. I tried to adopt a sophisticated and suave persona, and made my accent sound more eloquent. I did this out of the hope that girls would find something attractive about it. It was the only persona that truly fit me. I was incapable of being an outgoing, boisterous jock, and I didn’t want to be one. I was disgusted by such people, and I was disgusted at how girls were attracted to such filth. I wanted them to be attracted to me. That is how it should be, and I deserved it.

  During the few weeks I had before my first day of class, I couldn’t really do anything to improve my social situation. I had a fear of going out to Isla Vista without any friends, and I was hoping to make those friends once college started. Because of this, I became depressed again from all of the loneliness.

  Even though Spencer was there, I felt completely and utterly alone, as the two of us never talked that much.

  So far, Spencer and I had gotten along quite well despite the fact that we never talked much. An incident happened at the end of January that changed all of this. I one day discovered that Spencer had a girl in this room. I couldn’t believe it. The short, chubby guy was able to get a girl into his room before I did! I was so shocked and outraged that I waited outside his room until the girl left, so I could get a glimpse of how she looked. To my relief, she wasn’t that attractive. What made me even more angry is that Spencer gave me a smug look when I saw the girl, even though she was ugly. He had the nerve to feel like he was better than me, just because he managed to get a girl over to the apartment before I did! I confronted him in the kitchen on that same night, telling him that he is foolish to feel proud about having an ugly whore in his room. This made him angry and offended, which is what I wanted. I wanted to offend him as punishment for his insolence. After that incident, the two of us became more and more hostile towards each other.