My Twisted World

by Elliot Rodger

  Towards the end of the month, my mother invited Maddy and Mo Humpreys over for dinner. Mother had recently been reconnecting with her old friend Mo. Maddy had just graduated from USC, a university renowned for its abundance of spoiled, bratty students who partied all the time, very similar to UCSB. I often call USC the “University of Spoiled Cunts”, just like I call UCSB the “University of California’s Spoiled Brats”. Brilliant, fitting nicknames! Before Maddy came, I stalked her Facebook for a bit, and I saw that she was the exact image of everything I hated in women. She was a popular, spoiled USC girl who partied with her hot, beautiful blonde-haired clique of friends. All of them looked like absolute cunts, and my hatred for them all grew from each picture I saw on her profile. They were the kind of beautiful, popular people who lived pleasurable lives and would look down on me as inferior scum, never accepting me as one of them. They were my enemies. They represented everything that was wrong with this world. Maddy was my first friend in America. As a child, I played with her as an equal. Now she was my enemy. I would take great delight in torturing and flaying her and every single one of her spoiled, obnoxious evil friends. When she and her mother came to eat dinner with us, I had to keep calm as I hobbled out of my room on my crutches to greet them.

  That relaxing month at mother’s was like the comfort before the storm. Once I go back to Santa Barbara, fully recovered, the final dark chapter of my life will commence. I dreaded what will come of it.

  After six weeks of hobbling about on crutches whenever I had to go somewhere, I visited my orthopedist, asking if it was finally time for me to walk without them. After examining my leg, he agreed that I can proceed to a “walking cast”. This would enable me to limp around, without crutches, though I would have to use a cane. Though uncomfortable, it was much, much better than having to go about on those damnable crutches. When I got home, I delightedly practiced moving around with this new setup.

  Before long, my mother said I was now well enough to return to Santa Barbara. My new college classes were starting soon anyway, though she didn’t know that I had only signed up for online classes for the Autumn semester out of fear that I might have to start college while still crippled. She had grown tired of having to deal with me, as she always was in the past. I spent a few more days at mother’s with my walking cast and cane before she made me go back to Santa Barbara, telling me I can return to visit in two weeks.

  I made my ominous drive back to Santa Barbara, and as I drove I thought about all of the injustices I had to face in the last two years I had spent there. Injustices that had never been set right. Now was the time to set them right. Now was the time for Retribution.

  When I got back to my apartment, I saw that my housemates Chris and Jon had moved out. A pity, as they were the most pleasant housemates I could have hoped for. I feared what my new ones would be like, and I was told they would be coming in a few weeks. I had the place to myself for that period, which suited me well. I refused to leave my room at all until I was able to at least lose my walking cast. I spent the time doing the same thing I did at mother’s house. I watched a lot of movies, and sat around contemplating my future.

  Upon my visit home, I went to see my orthopedist for one last time, and he told me I can finally walk without any cast around my leg, though I would need the cane for a few more weeks. I was content with this, as I didn’t mind the cane that much. It had a peculiar elegance about it.

  On that same weekend, I met up with Philip and Addison. We had been planning to meet during the summer, but I had to postpone it because of my terrible injury. I took them out in my father’s Mercedes SUV, and we went on another one of our adventures around Los Angeles. First, we went to an exquisite Japanese restaurant on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood. I was thankful I didn’t see any young couples my age there, most of them were older than us. Afterwards, we went to Griffith Park Observatory, under Philip’s suggestion. Going there brought back memories, both good and bad. It was ever a tradition for the three of us to go there, as we had been so many times. The place provided an expansive view of the city of L.A. At night it was absolutely exquisite. The Griffith Park Observatory was truly a wondrous place to admire the beauty of the world… but the whole experience was ruined, of course, by the sight of so many young couples kissing there, right under the stars. Those boys must have been in heaven, to experience such a place with their beautiful girlfriends.

  Seeing all of those young couples at Griffith Park filled me with rage for the rest of the night. It reminded me of the injustices I have to face in life, and my war against it all. When I drove down the hill from the Observatory, I saw more young couples walking around, and I had the desire to run them over with the Mercedes as a sweet act of revenge. I already planned to use the Mercedes SUV as one of my weapons on the Day of Retribution, since Isla Vista on weekend nights was always filled with my enemies walking right in the middle of the road. They would be easy targets.

  After the disastrous experience at Griffith Park, we decided to take a late night trip all the way to Palos Verdes, just to admire the scenery. I had never been down there, and Addison told me it was a peaceful, quiet, and exquisite place that provided an extraordinary view. When we arrived at a beach park in Palos Verdes that overlooked the ocean, Philip had fallen asleep, so it was just me and Addison who went out to walk around. I took an instant liking to the place, and explored it as much as I could, even though I was still limping with my cane. As the two of us looked up at the stars, we had a few insightful conversations. Addison told me more about his experiences among the popular kids of Malibu, in which I still envied him greatly for. I told him about all of my newfound philosophical views regarding women, and how I believe they are mentally flawed and need to be contained. He didn’t show any hint of how he felt about this. Addison told me that I was a person of high intelligence, and that I shouldn’t waste it by doing something “rash”. I believe he had a suspicion that I was indeed planning on massacring my enemies and then killing myself. Of course he would have that suspicion… In a way I think he knew me better than anyone else. I am indeed an intelligent person, but the cruelty of this world gives me no choice but to exact my Retribution. I tactfully told Addison that I had no intentions of “doing anything stupid”. That was my last conversation with him. It was also the last time I ever saw Philip and Addison.

  I also went to meet with my father’s friend Dale Launer on that weekend. Dale Launer is a successful Hollywood screenwriter and producer who owns a nice house in the Pacific Palisades. Dale and my father have been friends for many years. When I was a child, father sometimes took me to dinner parties at his house. I hadn’t seen Dale since I was a child, but within the last few months I began to have email conversations with him after he found out I was having trouble with girls. He wanted to help me overcome my troubles because he is a so-called expert with women. He even showed me pictures of all of the gorgeous women he has dated in his life, and there were a lot of them. This man truly lived.

  A few men who are successful with women have offered me help and advice about this in the past, but nothing ever came of it. I suppose they want to help because it would be a boost to their already big egos, and also because they feel sorry for me. People should feel sorry for me. My life is so pathetic, and I hate the world for forcing me to suffer it. I feel sorry for myself.

  In truth, there is nothing men like Dale can really do to help me attract girls and lose my virginity.

  They can’t mind-control girls to be attracted to me. It’s all girls’ fault for not having any sexual attraction towards me. My brief friendship with Dale would, however, spark a few more interesting email conversations where I confide to him about how cruel I think women are by nature. He would only be amused by this. Of course he would be amused. Women were never cruel to him. They gave him sex and love all his life.

  I had an argument with Soumaya while I was visiting father’s house. It started when she began to boast that my brother Jazz was recently sig
ned by an agent to act in T.V. commercials. She said that by the time he is my age, he will be a successful actor. I talked about how Jazz was already so socially savvy for his age, and how I’ve always envied him for it. She told me he will never have any problems with girls, and will lose his virginity while he’s young. I had to sit there and listen to the bitch tell me that my little brother will grow up enjoying the life I’ve always craved for, but missed out on. It is very unfair how some boys are able to live such pleasurable lives while I never had any taste of it, and now it has been confirmed to me that my little brother will become one of them. He will become a popular kid who gets all the girls. Girls will love him. He will become one of my enemies.

  That was the day that I decided I would have to kill him on the Day of Retribution. I will not allow the boy to surpass me at everything, to live the life I’ve always wanted. It’s not fair that he has the chance to have a pleasurable life while I’ve been denied it. It will be a hard thing to do, because I had really bonded with my little brother in the last year, and he respected and looked up to me. But I would have to do it. If I can’t live a pleasurable life, then neither will he! I will not let him put my legacy to shame.

  In order to kill Jazz, I would have to kill Soumaya too, but that will be easy. All I would need to do is think about all of the hurtful things she had said to me in that past as I plunge my knife into her neck.

  But what if father is in the house to stop me? Would I have to kill him too? That would be too much. I remember, when I was a child, I had dreams about my father dying, and I woke up crying to my mother, in which she would comfort me and tell me that it was just a dream. How could my life have resorted to the point where I am the one to kill my own father? I felt sick to my stomach.

  I concluded that I would have to set the Day of Retribution during a time when my father is out of the country, on one of his business trips. It would be too risky to try to kill him. I might hesitate at the last second.

  When I thought about all of this, I truly did feel sick. I felt a shiver run through me. My whole world had become so twisted and wrong. I didn’t want it to come to this. I desperately wanted a way out.

  To make me feel more confident, my mother provided me with a better car to drive in Santa Barbara, a BMW 3 series Coupe. I had always wanted this, since I cared a lot about my appearance. I had been asking my parents for a more upper-class car ever since I found out that there was a car hierarchy, and that some students at my college drove better cars than others. Now I was one of the students with a better, high-class car.

  Having a nicer car than most other students my age did indeed make me feel more confident. Mother should have bought this car for me when I first moved to Santa Barbara. It made me feel better about going out more while I was there. This, coupled with my newly healed leg, gave me one last twinge of hope as the remaining months of 2013 passed.

  For those last remaining months, my extreme desperation and desire for happiness took hold of me, knowing full well how my life will turn out if I don’t get what I want. I went out every single day, just to put myself out there in the world in order to see what opportunities arise. I explored the entirety of Santa Barbara and Montecito, and it fully dawned on me what a beautiful environment I had been living in. However, a beautiful environment is the darkest hell if I have to experience it all alone. That fact that I had wasted the last two years in such a beautiful place filled me with anguish. I thought about what an enjoyable life I could have had, if only girls were attracted to me.

  Two new housemates moved into my apartment for the Autumn semester. They were two foreign Asian students who attended UCSB. These were the biggest nerds I had ever seen, and they were both very ugly with annoying voices. My last two housemates, Chris and Jon, were nerds as well, but at least they were friendly and pleasant. These two new ones were utterly repulsive, and one of them had a very rebellious demeanor about him. He went out of his way to start arguments with me whenever I raised the issue of the noise he made. Hell, even living with Spencer was more pleasant than these two idiots. I knew that when the Day of Retribution came, I would have to kill my housemates to get them out of the way. If they were pleasant to live with, I would regret having to kill them, but due to their behavior I now had no regrets about such a prospect. In fact, I’d even enjoy stabbing them both to death while they slept.

  I was assigned a new counsellor to meet with me every week in Santa Barbara, since Karlin and Sasha no longer worked for that company. My new counsellor was named Robert, a UCSB student who is one year older than me. I had coffee with him a few times, and we went volunteering together twice, in an effort to get me out of my room and doing activities. Nothing conducive to attaining the life I desire came out of these meetings, but the social interaction he provided was pleasant, and it gave me an outlet to express myself.

  I visited my mother’s house quite often in the Autumn. To my extreme rage, I discovered that my sister now had a boyfriend, and that she had lost her virginity. She had casually “dated” boys in the past, but never to the serious extent that she did with this one. This one was a half White, half Mexican named Samuel, and I immediately took an intense disliking to him when I was first introduced to him. He seemed like the typical obnoxious slob that most young girls are sexually attracted to. Georgia invited him to my mother’s house all the time, and it angered me to watch him lurking about, eating my mother’s food and drinks, and making use of my mother’s house. He was freeloading off my mother, and she didn’t even realize it.

  I eventually grew to hate him after I heard him having sex with my sister. I arrived at the house one day, my mother being at work, and heard the sounds of Samuel plunging his penis into my sister’s vagina through her closed room door, along with my sister’s moans. I stood there and listened to it all. So my sister, who was four years younger than me, managed to lose her virginity before I did. It reminded me of how pathetic I was, that at the age of twenty-two, I was still a virgin. I hated her boyfriend as well. My sister said that he’s been with other girls before her, and I’m sure he lost his virginity at a much younger age. It is such an injustice. The slob doesn’t even have a car, and he is able to get girlfriends, while I drive a BMW and get no attention from any girls whatsoever.

  My sister even showed me a picture of one of his ex-girlfriends, a pretty brunette white girl. My hatred towards him only intensified after that. I refused to speak to him whenever he came over, and I constantly pestered my mother to ban him from the house, but she refused to heed my demands. Even worse, she constantly talked about him admiringly. He reminded me of Leo Bubenheim, a typical obnoxious boy who has been able to experience a great sex life from a young age. An enemy had now infiltrated the household of my mother, the one place in the whole world where I’ve always sought refuge from injustice. Things were getting too out of hand.

  Grandma Jinx came to visit father’s house in late October. When she last visited, she resolved an intense conflict between me, my father, and Soumaya. In a way, this recent visit paralleled the last one, since I was having conflicts with Soumaya this time as well, just not to the same extreme.

  I went over to father’s house to see my grandmother. She suggested that I take her out for a coffee, and I knew just the place. I took her to Barnes & Noble at the Calabasas Commons, a place of great significance in my past. While there, I showed her all of the spots I had spent time at years ago.

  Afterward, before I said my goodbye, a feeling of sadness swept over me, as I knew that was most likely the final farewell.

  On Halloween, I found it hard to believe how fast time had gone by. I remember how on the last Halloween I had considered exacting my Retribution on this very day. Time indeed will inevitably pass, and soon enough my fate will have to be decided. I went home to my mother’s on Halloween, of course.

  I wouldn’t be able to stand being alone in my Isla Vista room while all of that partying happened around me. It was the exact same scenario as last year. In the a
fternoon, I saw a new psychologist, Dr. Randy Gold. In truth, he was my old psychologist whom I visited briefly when I was only thirteen. That was back when my life was just starting to fall into this dark path, and now I was still in the same position, except that the dark path was soon going to reach its climactic end. After my therapy session, I got drunk in my mother’s hot tub, trying not to think about all of the fun and sex that other young people were having that night.

  Nothing came out of my desperate outings in Santa Barbara during the last months of 2013. Girls still didn’t show any interest in me. I drove to SBCC a lot, even though I was only signed up for online classes.

  While there, I saw other boys who had inferior cars driving around with hot girls in their passenger seats. I have a BMW and never had any hot girl in my passenger seat. Not once. It only made me fume with rage. Santa Barbara was such a beautiful town, but I could go nowhere without being insulted by my enemies. The mere sight of them enjoying their happy lives was an insult to me, because I deserve it more than them.

  One place of refuge I often went to was the Coffee Bean in Montecito. It was located in a beautiful little town center, and most of the couples there were older than me. It provided a quiet and peaceful place for me to contemplate and brood.

  On the eve of my last day in Santa Barbara, before I went home for the winter break, I went to the Sandpiper Golf Course in Goleta to watch the sunset. It was my usual sunset spot, and on that evening the shape of the clouds on the horizon made it exceptionally beautiful. I basked in its radiance as I stood there, wondering with despair how a world so beautiful could be so cruel. And then, one final insult came along, as if the world was taking one last spiteful lash at me. A young couple came and stood near me, making out with each other as they watched the very same sunset. There were lots of other people there as well, for it was quite a unique sunset. All of them must have had thoughts of admiration towards the couple, and thoughts of contempt towards me because I was all alone and unwanted. I have lived such an unnatural life, devoid of love, sex, and pleasure. Watching sunsets was one of the few joys I had left, and now that too was taken from me. How can I enjoy a sunset anymore, knowing that other men get to enjoy them with their beautiful girlfriends at their side? There was no more life for me to live.