Disturbia: Chapter 4(The jigsaw puzzle)

Ok Corey, are you sure you want to continue? We can always continue another day. I am fine Gary, I can finish this. Ok, so Corey, tell me what was happening in your mind. Ahem, ok, my mind was a jigsaw puzzle. The pieces were no longer linking. One piece was somewhere it was not suppose to be. I can see that you Gary love playing crossword puzzles. Yes, actually I do love playing those puzzles, how did you know? You always have a pen and newspaper with you. I scanned the notes you write in these sessions and they are mostly summarized into one word or a phrase. You always want to put the pieces to any story together; it’s as if you are solving a puzzle. You have a multitude of newspapers in your office and the last piece that cements my claim is that you always carry a crossword puzzle in your right pocket with the pen swinging effortlessly around your neck. I have been observing you Gary. Wow, I have to say I am impressed, you are quite perceptive and sharp Corey. I believe you were born like that. Actually no, I was quite passive in my childhood but as I grew, rejection and scorn turned me into a sharp and very perceptive person. I don’t like being taken by surprise. I like having the controlling stake in most situations. However let me tell you how it came to be. Gary, you being a puzzle man, have you ever put in a word into the puzzle that was wrong and it ended up spoiling the entire puzzle. Yes I actually have a number of times. Good then we are on the same page.


I grew up heavily dependent on mommy. My fathers influence in my life made me a very sharp, aggressive, manipulative, witty, shrewd, sick, twisted, and ever violent person. I became so caged up in myself that I developed a survivor’s instinct that was very selfish. I was a very confused person in my teens. I struggled with acceptance and hurt. I hid from society and began to brew the hurt in me into anger. I loved horror films! Every time I imagined it was me acting out the scenes in the movie. Making the people who hurt me bleed was a plan for my future. I did not trust in any person except my immediate family. I developed a split personality. A very dangerous one! The other personality of mine was a person heavily addicted to blood, sex, violence and unorthodox behaviour. In high school I was always mocked. But one day I proved them wrong.


I walked into class and bumped into another students table. He stood up with the intention of intimidating me. I put my bag down and turned with murder in my eyes. He attempted to strike me but I stepped back. Him thinking I was a woman; kept on coming for me but I stepped away. He quickly gave up and assumed I was not going to retaliate. I pounced immediately on his sense of security. My first blow hit his left eye, my second blow hit his stomach, and my last blow went straight onto his mouth. He fell back and covered his mouth. A tooth rolled from his blazer onto the floor. Then everyone was silent. I began to laugh with such a sinister tone. He uncovered his mouth and he had lost a canine tooth and blood was flowing down. I grew silent; my focus was now on the blood. I became amused at the sight of his pain and started to laugh. This time I was poking him in the head with my fist. Such a puny person he seemed. My first victim! He sat down crying and never went to tell the senior masters because I promised that I would finish him off. Nothing in my mind made sense. I was a psychotic episode at most! I loved playing mind games with people and manipulating their thoughts and emotions. I discovered that people underestimated the power of the human mind. But soon, it would be in the open for all to see.


I found myself talking to another person in me, getting motivation to do harmful things. The war at home got more serious. Each and every time my dad spoke to me harshly I would stand up and stare him in the eyes in rebellion. My hope was that he would throw the first blow and that would give me a good enough reason to kill him. My brother and I had our occasional sibling rivalry episodes and it would turn violent. My mother always intervened and cast down the foul spirit. Such a darling she was! I hated the time out sessions that followed such episodes. I was always banished to a stone outcrop in the yard that had no shade. The suns blazing arrows and the impenetrable surface of the rock made me feel like an egg in a frying pan. At least my sister would offer comfort in such times but not for long.


A time came when my sister had to go abroad for school. Seeing her getting onto the plane opened my eyes to the prospect that I was not going to see her any time soon. I felt robbed! My darling sister, my best friend was leaving. My other character was saying that she didn’t care; she didn’t love me and never did. Hearing that everyday as I looked into the mirror hurt me. I began to search for a female friend to fill the gap. I would isolate one and begin to monitor her without her knowledge. Following her home; taking pictures of where she stayed. Isolating her social habits and tendencies. If she lived in an unprotected area, I would try to get as much as I could about her room and anything that could be helpful. As quick as it started, I would find myself gawking at the pictures of the girls I was tracking. The desire to defile them became a hidden intention. The glitter of their smiles, the aroma of their perfume, the firmness of their breasts, the tone of their voices, and the shear sight of them made my imagination go wild. I found myself wanting to unleash my anger and hurt on them. Stalking girls became a pass time activity. Pornography became an addiction. My mind was a maze of pornographic images, videos and moans. I am glad that no girl ever fell into my hands because I would not be here talking to you right now.


I was always very good with words and I had quite the flirtatious tongue. Girls saw my charm. My slippery words hid my obsession, my intentions, my sick and perverted thoughts; I manipulated girls, played with their emotions, inspired thoughts into their minds, pounced on their insecurity and enjoyed flirting. I had demented desires and lusts. Everyone had become a pawn on my chess board. My eyes were so sharp I undressed women down to their birthday suit just by setting my gaze on them. My mind knew of no direction in life; it only knew vile crimes and atrocities against mankind. I got into another fight at school and this time I had to be restrained by a teacher. During a science lesson, I was paying attention to the words of my teacher when a student behind me mocked me. While my teacher was writing on the board, I stood up and walked to the student and smacked him three times and went back to my seat before the teacher saw me. The teacher turned to face the class wondering why the entire class was cheering and roaring. He did not pay too much attention to it. Then he left the room briefly and the guy I had slapped came down to my table and commanded me to face him in a fight. I agreed. I stood up and removed my blazer. I went up to him and he immediately started swinging fists. I began to block his fists and I got filled with massive strength. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and began to unleash right hand fists upon his face. He began to retreat but I pursued him. I began to use my entire body as a weapon. Some students tried to stop the fight but I pushed them aside and kept on pounding him. The teacher walked into a heavily disoriented victim and a pursuing mad boy. He grabbed a hold of me and held me in a bear hug. I tried to break away but he refused to let me go. The fight died down and then the teacher took a Bunsen burner pipe and ordered me to touch a table. I laughed inside as he began lashing me. I kept on laughing in my mind, I felt no pain. I was used to it! He then ordered me to sit down and I grinned hideously to the class who cheered me on.


I would find myself saying that this person was not who I was. But who was I to say who I was since I did not even know who I was! Even when I was in my most normal of senses, I found myself drifting into a state of denial. I tried to sort out my mind by introducing girls. A lot of them were just like candy without the sweetness but one stood out above the rest. I became so hung up on her that I chased after her for four years. She had given me a reason to wake up everyday. Getting her heart next to mine became my fight. Those were very happy days in my life. However I did too many things to get to her. I wrote letters, sent presents and even lied just so that she could feel sorry for me. One day I bumped into her and in a very cold voice she told me to “get of her case”. That shattered me; it cast a dark cloud over my hopes. After four years, my desire came crashing down on me. I tried not to listen but she insisted. I remember the feeling of rejection. I remember how it ate me inside. How it changed me for the worst. My old friend was back with a vengeance. Now all he wanted was blood. He wanted to bring his so called justice into action. If ever my split personality was to become an instigator of justice then I was doomed for eternity.


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