do you comply with my request or not
Bad Friend
“It’s another beautiful day here at the University of Shit Fuck,” my friend announced in a faux radiobroadcaster voice as we strode along the concrete path.
I grunted in agreeance and shielded myself from the rapidly increasing rain.
We went to class and I did not understand anything. My friend knew this reminded me of how woefully screwed I was when class ended. Then he asked me what I was going to do after college even though he knew that I had no direction or motivation and was basically fucked in life.
I said peace out to my friend and dropped my skateboard to the ground but as I moved to push off my foot slipped and I fell. My friend asked me how I was even though he could see I was bleeding. He then pretended to just notice I was bleeding and commented on how my wounds would take a long time to heal and how they would sting in the shower. He also commented on how no one around me had shown concern for me and were perhaps a bit amused by my tumble. I knew what he was doing and I told him to stop being a dickhead and he just smirked like he usually does and told me he was just telling me the truth. I asked him why he is always such a dick to me and he countered by asking why I talk to him if I hate him so much and proposed if the reason was because I have no other friends. I skated back to my room with my wounds that would take a long time to heal and would sting in the shower.
I got back to my room and after painfully washing and bandaging my abrasions; I checked my phone and saw 5 missed calls from my mother in the past 12 hours. Just then I got another call from her which I immediately declined. My friend who is also my roommate commented from behind my shoulder and asked me whether she was calling about the trouble I had gotten into recently or my classes. I didn’t answer because he already knew but I thought it was probably both.
I sank down onto my bed and my friend asked me wasn’t I going to get started on my work, but then he answered his own question saying that it was probably too late anyways. I just told him I wasn’t up to it.
My friend asked me what I was up to for the rest of the day and suggested that I could go skate, but I probably wouldn’t want to hurt myself again.
I laid fully-clothed, motionless, and sweaty on my bed, gingerly and uncomfortably positioning myself so I wouldn’t get blood on my sheets. I did not want to move, ever again. My friend gazed down at me and his assholish grinning expression turned dark. Pathetic, he said.
I kicked my leg towards my friend’s asshole face as I yelled at him to shut up but my foot just passed through the air without hitting anything. My friend wordlessly left our room and left me to lie back down, but I knew he would be back when I woke up.
Risky Business
Two pairs of footsteps entered the men’s bathroom. It had been 5 minutes since I had been granted permission to use the bathroom and I was making good progress until they had entered. Their voices were hushed and urgent. They were clearly amateurs. I slowed my rhythm not to be heard by them. I continued with caution, recalling the lithe figure of the girl who sits in front of me.
I stopped my work momentarily as I heard the sounds of the two boy’s footsteps pass in front of my locked stall. I turned my back to them but kept my head turned to keep an eye on their shoes; one had a pair of Nike trainers and another with black Vans. I recalled the slightly dirty pair of Vans that the girl from my class wore, a perfect complement to the length of her legs. I resumed my work at a quickened pace.
The boys began to leave a few minutes later, but to my great dismay I heard a third pair of footsteps entering just as their feet were leaving my line of sight. At the same time I heard something lightly drop to the ground and identified it from my view as a small Ziploc bag containing several clumps of a lumpy, green substance.
The bathroom erupted in the sounds of an adult man yelling, a teacher. My careful concentration was shattered and my work threatened to crumble in my hands. The feeble, defeated tones of the boys struggling to defend themselves revitalized me. I was not like them, an amateur. I redoubled my efforts as I recalled the way the yoga pants that girl in my class wore shaped perfectly to the contours of her body.
The sound of a softer female voice entering the bathroom broke my concentration again, but I recognized this voice. As she pleaded with the male teacher to calm down I recalled her class, and her scent whenever she would look over my shoulder to examine my school papers. My breath quickened with excitement as I savored her voice and recalled the time I spent in the class within her class that only existed in this stall.
The male teacher had barely managed to calm his fury despite efforts and had begun banging his fist on the door of my stall, but it did not matter anymore. I turned around as my work neared completion. I looked through the crack in the stall at the owner of the female voice standing in a slightly protective position behind the angry man. We made eye contact.
I finished.
Terroristic Threats
I have this friend who has been to jail twice totaling a couple of months. He did not
do anything. One of the times he was out at the bar. Some drunken asshole started taking the piss out of him and he got angry. Not a single punch was thrown but he ended up spending the night in jail. The reason was because he told the drunken guy at one point that he was going to kill him. It is a common expression that people use when they are angry but he was arrested on the basis of making “terroristic threats”.
Another time, it was at his old workplace. His boss was insulting him on his performance, and putting on his passive-aggressive act as usual. His boss often commented on his lack of a girlfriend, and one day he was berating him after he made a small mistake at work saying “you’ll never get a girl with handiwork like that, you’re gonna have to steal my car if you’re going to have any chance.” My friend, his inhibitions lowered and patience all but run out replied, “I guess I’ll just have to rape a bitch then, and I’m stealing your car, but I guess since you won’t let me have it I’ll have to kill you for it.”
He was convicted on charges of terroristic threats and sexual harassment charges because a female coworker had overheard the exchange. It was impossible for him to find work after this. I met him on an obscure online forum a while back and we became close friends and he told me his story. He is one of the nicest guys I have ever met and has never actually caused harm to anyone. He does not work now or speak with nearly anyone. He collects welfare and spends most of his days online.
