My Twisted World

by Elliot Rodger

  This was also the last month I had at the apartment unit I was staying in. I was set to transfer to a room in the main complex of Capri Apartments for the next school year. The conflict between Spencer and I had calmed down over the summer. He brought a few girls to his apartment, but they were all ugly, so I tried not to get jealous. I still hated him for the fact that he was able to witness how lonely and miserable my life was. I had spent an entire year in Isla Vista, Santa Barbara, and I had not had a single girl into my apartment. The pure rage and hatred I felt over that fact was enough, but to have someone like Spencer in my vicinity to judge me on it was salt on the wound. I made plans to track Spencer down once I become wealthy and arrogantly show off my new life to him. That would be the only way to get even. I wanted to show to Spencer, to show to the whole WORLD, that I had worth.

  I didn’t think much about my imminent move to a new room, nor did I think much about who my new housemates would be. I firmly believed that I would win the lottery before then. I would then go back to my mother’s house, show her my ticket, and buy a mansion of my own to begin a new life of heavenly bliss. One could say that I was being delusional, but my desperation for happiness was so intense that I wanted to believe that this was true. I wanted to believe that I had the POWER to invoke this into my reality. I have craved power and significance all my life, and I will stop at nothing to find ways of attaining it.

  Before I knew it, my lease at my current room ended, and on September 5th, I transferred to the new room. Spencer and I didn’t deign to say goodbye to each other, we despised each other that much. I knew I would see him again, when I track him down to show off my wealth that I firmly believed I would attain.

  I found out that my new apartment in the main complex of Capri was the same exact apartment unit that I stayed in for the first month I had in Santa Barbara: apartment #7 on Seville Street. When I moved all of my belongings in, it was all empty. The manager told me that two housemates would be moving into the second bedroom within two weeks hence. I trusted that the manager had the sense to pair me with mature people, knowing my experiences with those two barbaric housemates I had to deal with a year previously.

  By the time I moved in, the jackpot had finally risen over $100 million. This was the moment of truth.

  I had been waiting all summer for this to happen. Overcome with trepidation, I spent the next week in my new room, meditating and visualizing winning the lottery very soon. I could feel the excitement I would feel once I see the six numbers on my ticket match the numbers that would be drawn. I imagined myself jumping up and down with joy once my victory was confirmed.

  On September 11th, the drawing for a jackpot worth $120 million commenced. I bought a five dollar ticket and proclaimed that this had to be mine. When I saw that the winner was from California, my heart beat like a drum. This was it. Fate was being decided right at that moment.

  I didn’t win. I looked at my ticket over and over again, and then at the winning numbers. No match. It was just like what happened in March, except this was worse because I had built up anticipation for the entire summer. The winner was some guy from Riverside. He took MY money. What a waste. What an injustice. I was so certain that the universe would finally grant me salvation after a life of torture and suffering. I then looked at my small, cramped room and realized that my lonely, depressing life of virginity will continue on mercilessly.

  That night, I threw a wild tantrum, screaming and crying for hours on end. I had the whole apartment to myself, so there was no one there to hear me. I raged at the entire world, thrashing at my bed with my wooden practice sword and slashing at the air with my pocket knife. I even downed an entire bottle of wine, and got so drunk that I spilled my wine all over my laptop, permanently destroying it. I soaked my pillow with tears as I drifted off to sleep in my lonely bed.

  On the next morning, I felt so drained and depressed. I then realized that I destroyed my laptop, so I called my mother, begging her to buy me a new one. I made up the story that the laptop randomly died and I had no control over it. After some persuading, I managed to make her agree to buy me a new one.

  I quickly drove to Best Buy to look for a new laptop, and decided to choose a newer, updated version of the Asus laptop I had previously. As it turned out, the Best Buy in Santa Barbara didn’t have one in stock, so I had to drive all the way to Oxnard to pick one up. I paid the $1500 dollars for it, with the assurance that my mother will drive up to bring me a reimbursement in a few days.

  I had to wait a few hours for them to prepare the laptop for me, and while I waited I decided to go to the shooting range in Oxnard. I had the knowledge, in the back of my mind, that the Day of Retribution was very possible now. Going to the shooting range while I waited for my laptop gave me the perfect opportunity to gain some initial training in shooting guns, which will be the main weapons I use as vengeance against my enemies when the Day of Retribution ultimately comes to pass. I walked into the range, rented a handgun from the ugly old redneck cashier, and started to practice shooting at paper targets. As I fired my first few rounds, I felt so sick to the stomach. I questioned my whole life, and I looked at the gun in front of me and asked myself “What am I doing here? How could things have led to this? ” I couldn’t believe my life was actually turning out this way. There I was, practicing shooting with real guns because I had a plan to carry out a massacre. Why did things have to be this way, I silently questioned myself as I looked at the handgun I was holding in front of me. I paid my fee and left the range within minutes, feeling as if I was going to be sick. I spent the rest of the waiting period at the Coffee Bean in Oxnard, where I sat by myself feeling absolutely disgusted. My whole world was twisted.

  Within the following days, I spent a lot of time at the park, watching the wind blow through the trees and the children playing in the fields. I questioned the very fabric of reality. Why did this all exist? I wondered. How did life come to be? What was the nature of reality? What was my place in all of it?

  There was no point to my life anymore. I was never going to lose my virginity. I was never going to get a girlfriend. Because girls are repulsed by me, I was never going to have children and pass on my genes.

  The only way that I could have been worthy enough to beautiful girls is if I become wealthy at a young age, and the faith I had in that happened had just been crushed. There was no hope left.

  The life I could have had ceased to exist. I will never have sex, never have love, never have children. I will never be a creator, but I could be a destroyer. Life had been cruel to me. The human species had rejected me all my life, despite the fact that I am the ideal, magnificent gentleman. Life itself is twisted and disgusting, I mused. Humans are brutal animals. If I cannot thrive among them, then I will destroy them all. I didn’t want things to turn out this way. I wanted a happy, healthy life of love and sex. But if I’m unable to have such a life, then I will have no choice but to exact revenge on the society that denied it to me.

  My new housemates moved into the other room of my apartment at the end of September. They didn’t know each other before they moved in, which was better for me because then they wouldn’t gang up on me. Not like they would do such a thing anyway, since my two new housemates were both timid, geeky types. One of them was a funny-looking curly haired boy named Chris Rugg, and the other was an Asian American named Jon. After the first few days of their stay, I felt content with these new housemates. They were quiet, respectful, and very friendly. And best of all, they never invited any friends over. I doubt they even had any friends. All they did was stay in their room and played video games all day. Of course, I had no desire to be friends with them, because they had absolutely nothing to offer, but I knew I would have no problems with them in my apartment, and that was the best I could hope for.

  On Halloween weekend, I made the wise decision to go home to my mother’s house. There was no way I was going to torture myself by staying alone in my room while the entire town of Isla Vista erupted in
raucous debauchery. All of the tall, hunky jocks that girls love so much will be having all of the sex and all of the fun, while an unwanted outcast like myself would rot in loneliness. I imagined that some attractive guys who only visited Isla Vista for the Halloween event will be getting laid that weekend.

  They’d be getting sex from just one night in Isla Vista, while I’m still a virgin after living there for over a year. It was too unfair. I wanted to punish them all. I imagined how sweet it would be to slaughter all of those evil, slutty bitches who rejected me, along with the fraternity jocks they throw themselves at. To see them all running from me in fear as I kill them left and right, that would be the ultimate retribution.

  Only then would I have all the power. They treated me like an insignificant little mouse, but on the Day of Retribution, I would be a God to them. They will be the mice, and I will be the predator. I considered setting the date for the Day of Retribution to be the next Halloween of 2013. That would give me a year to prepare, but I soon dismissed it. If the Day of Retribution were to happen, it would have to be on a normal weekend. There would be too many cops walking around during an event like Halloween, and cops are the only ones who could hinder my plans.

  I spent the time at mother’s house relaxing and trying to forget about Halloween. I drank some of my mother’s delicious wine until I was too buzzed to think about how much fun everyone else my age was having on that night.

  I didn’t even bother to register for college classes that semester. There was no point. I believed that I would either fulfill my dream of becoming wealthy at a young age in order to be worthy enough to attract beautiful women, or exact my revenge upon the world and die in the process to escape punishment. There was no other path for me.

  Of course, I “registered” for some classes, but only to keep up the pretense to my parents that I was still attending college. If they somehow found out that I had dropped my classes right after registering for them, they would have stopped all of their support for me, and my life would have to end right then and there. Thankfully, I was a good liar.

  During the Autumn of 2012, I had all the time in the world to figure out how I was going to triumph against the society that was torturing me. I spent a lot of time at the library in Goleta, just a few miles away from Isla Vista. At the library, I read countless books on history, business, and philosophy, learning as much as I could. It was better than staying at home in my room. Besides, I didn’t want my housemates to find out that I wasn’t going to college. That would be embarrassing, and I always cared about what others thought about me, even my nerdy housemates.

  I continued to visit the website of the Megamillions lottery. I still clung to the hope that it may rise above $100 million again and I would be the winner. So far, I saw that as my only way out of my horrible situation.

  My situation was indeed horrible. I couldn’t leave the house without seeing a young couple walking around somewhere. Everywhere I went, I was all by myself, while other young people had friends and girlfriends. I was ashamed to show myself to the world. Even though I wore expensive designer clothes, what was the point if girl’s still weren’t attracted to me? No one respects a man who is unable to get a woman. A man wearing shorts and a T-shirt would be seen as superior to me if he walks into a store with a beautiful girl on his arm and I walk in all alone. A man having a beautiful girl by his side shows the world that he is worth something, because obviously that beautiful girl sees some sort of worth in him. If a man is all alone, people get the impression that girls are repulsed by him, and therefore he is a worthless loser.

  I saw winning the lottery as the only way out, and I became so frustrated when the Megamillions jackpot kept resetting. In the end of November, the jackpot was very close to getting high enough, but then it sank to the bottom once again. It was at this point that I learned about the Powerball lottery. The Powerball hadn’t yet come to California, so I knew nothing about it before. I looked at the website and saw that the jackpot was over $500 million!

  California didn’t have a Powerball lottery, so in order to buy a ticket, I would have to drive all the way to Arizona.

  Earlier in that day, as I drove through Isla Vista, I saw this one particular young couple that stood out from the rest only because the girl looked absolutely perfect. She was tall, blonde, and sexy. She would have towered over me in height, and her boyfriend of course towered over her. They were both wearing beach gear, and the girl was in her bikini, showing off to everyone her sensual, erection-causing body.

  Her blonde hair was wet from swimming in the ocean, and it only made her look more arousing. The two of them were holding hands, and it was clear that they were in love. I saw the boyfriend place his hand on the girl’s ass, and when he did this the girl looked at him and smiled with delight. That guy was in heaven. I can only imagine how amazing it must be to have sex with a girl like that. I had to witness everything I wanted but could not have. It made me feel dizzy with anguish.

  I immediately thought about that couple, and how impossible it was for me to have the same experience as that guy. Impossible, as I was at that point. But it would be possible for me to get a tall, blonde, sexy girlfriend if I was a multi-millionaire! Oh yes, it would be very possible. Becoming a multi-millionaire is the ONLY way I could have such an experience, and winning the lottery was the ONLY way I could become a multi-millionaire at my age. As I stared at the Powerball jackpot that was over $500

  million, I knew that I HAD to win it.

  It was midnight when I had this revelation, and the drawing was on the following day. The only way I could get a ticket before the drawing was if I left for Arizona right then and there. And so that is exactly what I did. I quickly looked up the best route on Google Maps, packed some food into my backpack, and took off.

  The sun rose as I crossed the long stretch of desert in between Palm Springs and the border of Arizona. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. When I saw the sun creeping up before me in the horizon, igniting the clouds with its orange glow, I proclaimed that sunrise as the sunrise of my destiny. I was riding towards my destiny, to obtain the record-breaking Powerball ticket of $500 million!

  As I drove, I thought about every event in my life that led up to that journey. I considered that journey as the ultimate culmination of the tragic suffering and sexual starvation I had to go through for so long. That Powerball jackpot was meant for me. Once I won it, I’d be able to have my beautiful blonde girlfriend, I’d be able to show the world that girls consider me worthy, I’d be able to show the world how superior I am. And of course, I would be able to live above everyone who has wronged me, and rub it all in their faces as a form of gratifying vengeance. That was my ultimate purpose in life, my reason for living.

  I didn’t win. It was almost the same scenario that I suffered through in March, except this one was twice as devastating. When I finally arrived home from the long trip, I immediately went to bed after not sleeping for so long. It was very difficult to stay awake on the road, but I managed to do it due to the severe importance of the journey. The Powerball drawing occurred while I slept, and my last thought before drifting off to sleep was that when I woke up, I would be a multi-millionaire, and my life would be saved. I slept for a very long time, and when I awakened it was already the morning after the drawing. I was overcome with anxiety. I was so confident and certain that I would win before the drawing occurred, but once that point in time had passed, I feared the result. I feared that I might not have won.

  I spent the next three days in my room, trying to garner enough courage to check the winning numbers that would determine my fate. After realizing how much time I was wasting, I visited the Powerball website to see the result. At the very first second of viewing the webpage, I caught a brief glimpse of it before closing it out of fear and panic. In that brief glimpse, I saw that there were three winning tickets, and one of them was in Arizona! My heart started beating rapidly. That had to be me! I thought, with hope and excite
ment welling up inside my whole body.

  There was an Arizona winner, and I had bought my ticket in Arizona. After that long, emotional journey; driving toward the sunrise in the middle of the desert, fighting off sleep just to get there in time, visualizing my whole future before me, with a beautiful blonde girlfriend and the children I would have with her… After all that, who else could the winner be but me? It was meant for me. It was fate, destiny. I took out my tickets, of which I had purchased fifty, and sifted through them to find the one that matched the winning numbers. I felt dizzy and ecstatic as I did it, feeling so certain that my victory will be confirmed. When I reached the end of my stack of tickets, I didn’t find any that matched. For the first few moments, I couldn’t even believe what was happening. I looked through all of my tickets again and again and again, and still, nothing. I didn’t win.

  I sat very quiet and still in my desk chair for a long time, all of the emotion swept out of me. I didn’t react with rage or anguish. I just sat there, cold and dead, mentally trying to contemplate what I had just done. I had driven all the way to Arizona just to buy lottery tickets, because I was so desperate for a happy life in which girls would be attracted to me; I was so certain I would win, building up all that hope, only to have it shattered right before me at just that moment.

  I then drove out of my apartment and made my way to the Girsh Park. I had to be somewhere peaceful. Along the way, I saw couples strolling along the streets of Isla Vista, walking arm in arm; I saw groups of good looking young people walking together, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I felt completely dead inside, and torment racked my entire body, as I realized that I now had no chance to rise above them. I lost.

  When I got to the park I sat in my car for hours, crying and crying and crying. I wailed with agony. My tears streamed down my face and stained my collar. I couldn’t take it anymore. Feeling the need to talk to someone, I called the only people I had in my life: My parents. I called them both, first my mother and then my father, and I told them both how much I was suffering from my loneliness, and my utter realization that I had no hope of ever having a happy life. I told them that they must be ashamed of me, that I was a 21 year old virgin who is unable to get a girlfriend or making any friends whatsoever. I was not the son any parent would want. My tantrum to my parents on the phone deeply disturbed them, and they arranged for me to see my psychiatrist, Dr. Charles Sophy, when I return home for the winter break.