Have you ever been seized by white-hot apoplectic, apocalyptic rage? I know I have, and it really feels great. Plus, it does have some attractive features attached to it. People tend to get out of your way if you’re seething your way down the sidewalk. Children run, dogs whimper. In my case at least, you stop thinking about interacting with the world around you and just move faster.
It took me a while to find her. I stalked through the main library and the student centre looking for her. People moved out of my way. It turned out that she was in the music department, and really I should have looked there first. She was sitting in the side room of the music library with a couple of other people. Two of them were people she’d been sleeping with.
I roared “YOU!” and the look on her face was absolutely priceless. I guess she’d thought that handcuffing me to a futon was a fun game. I’m not sure whether it was the tone of my voice, or the look in my eyes that let her know what I thought of it. The people at the table knew something bad was going to happen. The girl exited the room pretty quietly. The guy came up to me and got about two words into talking me down when I looked him in the eyes. I stretched my neck, and it produced a loud crack but he wasn’t buying it. I was getting annoyed and I wasn’t thinking straight at all. I just growled at him. I’ve never seen anyone back away so quickly.
I moved towards her, throwing tables and chairs aside. She was backed into a corner of the room. Keep in mind, this was not spoken in an indoor voice. “Listen to me, Roxy. You are a complete and total fucking bitch. You handcuff me to a futon and you think it’s a game? What the fuck is wrong with you, you psychotic whore? Are you insane? You put Conner in the hospital and cover it by telling people he tried to kill himself?”
Quite a crowd had gathered. Everyone that was within earshot. Pretty much everyone who was in the building. I turned to them. “You wanna know why Conner was in the hospital? Cause this fucking bitch handcuffed him to a futon and he damn near killed himself trying to get free! This whore slept with 7 people this month behind my back. She’s a goddamn plague monkey and I don’t care who knows it.”
I turned back to her and yelled. “Don’t ever talk to me again, you complete skank. I hate you.”
She was in tears and started to say something like, “I’m sorry.” I was beyond caring, and I’d said all I had to say. I just let loose a nonsensical roar. I turned to leave and there, on the table, were the pop tarts. I threw them at the wall and stormed out of the library. I pulled hard enough on the door on the way out that the top hinge broke.
And that’s why I transferred to the English department. No one in the music building who saw that was ever going to respond well to me. I would be either a laughingstock or a horrible ogre. I played trombone sometimes if they needed someone to fill in, and no one ever stepped in front of me in the corridor.
Conner got the help he needed, eventually. He failed out, but he got on medications and he got the hell away from Roxy. He came back after she graduated to finish up.
Roxy. I don’t know where she is, but I hope it’s a dark alley and I hope she’s sucking dick for crack. The sad thing is that she’ll probably be just fine. She was ostracized from the rest of the department for the rest of her time at university when they saw Conner's circular scars.
That's it for this week's Goldmine. We'll see you next week, when I either will have another story or some sort of pictures for you to look at. Oh boy!
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