– feeds your head

A danger to society. (short story)

“Just start from the beginning.”

“What beginning?”

I hate that look. That look of understanding. They all have it. Like a mixture of pity and greed. A glow in their eyes. They think they can understand. That if they understand me enough I will be cured. Fixed. That’s all they want, to fix me. I am a danger to society and a danger to myself. I’ve got that in writing. I think they are more worried about society than me though. No way they locked me up to save me from myself. That would mean they cared. That they actually gave a shit about me, and they don’t. That’s why I hate that look. Because they don’t really want to understand. They don’t even want to see.

“Well, what ever beginning you want to start with.”

“I can’t say I want to start at any beginning. Just tell me what you want to know man.”

“I want to know about you. Where you are coming from.”

“What the hell for? Just ask me what you want to know, ok? I’ll answer.”

“But that is what I want to know, your story, the story about Michael.”

“No you don’t. You want to know how long it will take you to fix me. How long it will take before I’ll stop being a danger to society.”

“A danger to society… Are you a danger to society Michael?”

“Well, that’s what the papers say, so I suppose I am. You’ve read them all so you tell me, what do you think? Do you need to lock me up for good?”

“Yes, I have read your papers Michael.”

Now he looks at me like that again. Like he understood. Like he’s worried about me. Tilts his head slightly, frowns. I hate that. I fucking hate that.

“So? What’s the verdict?”

“Well, I think you are a very troubled young man Michael, but I think you are more a danger to yourself than to society.”


You are a danger to yourself Michael. Fuck, all the times I’ve heard that before. And he keeps on giving me that worried look. I fucking hate this guy.

“Yes Michael, I think you have a lot of pain inside you.”

A lot of pain inside me? Is this guy for real? A lot of pain inside of me. Now that’s some serious new age shit. What the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he really think I’ll fall for that bullshit?

“Whatever. You are all just worried about what I did to that girl and you want to know if I could ever do something like that again.”

“Of course we want to know if you could do something like that again. That is important Michael. But what’s even more important is you, and what you are doing to yourself.”

“That’s bullshit man. It’s all about that girl.”

“So tell me about that girl then.”

I fucking knew it.

“What do you want to know? I fucked her. Simple as that.”

“Is it really? Simple? As you know I read your papers, and in the report from your social worker it says that you refused to look at the girl in court and that you started crying during the cross-examination.”

In the report from your social worker… Fuck, they really write down everything don’t they? Every little shit detail. The bastards.

“Why would I want to look at that bitch again?”

“So it wasn’t because it was too hard to face her?”


“And the tears, where they just to get a lighter sentence I suppose?”


“Come on Michael, do you really expect me to buy that?”

“I don’t know…”

“I have read your papers Michael, and even though some of what‘s in there is, well rubbish, I can still tell that you are not stupid. And neither am I.”


“I think you couldn’t face that girl again because you can’t really face yourself and what you did to her. Those tears were honest, weren’t they Michael?”

He really thinks I’m going to crack? He’s got to be kidding me. I am not going to crack. I am not. No way. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

“You’re just full of shit man…”

“No Michael, right now you are the one who’s full of shit.”

“Dude, you are not the first one to tell me that.”

“I know that Michael, and I suppose some of the times you were told that it was true and some of the times it wasn’t. I don’t pretend to know everything about you, but I do know that you have had some hard times in your life. I asked you to tell me about yourself and you refused. So here we are. You think all I want to know is if you will rape someone again, and I do want to know that, but most of all I want to know why you did it. Why you raped someone in the first place. Why did you rape that girl Michael? You told me to ask you what I wanted to know and you said you would reply, so my question is why did you rape that girl Michael?”

“Because she was there, ok?”

“But why Michael? What made you do it?”

“She was just there ok? I just did it!”

“No, not ok. Why Michael? Why her? Why then?”

“I don’t know, ok? I don’t fucking know why!”

“But you do know Michael. You do know.”

“No I don’t! Leave me the fuck alone will you?!”

“Ok, I’ll help you and you can fill in the details. You were at a party at her house. She goes upstairs. You see her leave and decide to follow.”

“Shut up!”

“You follow her upstairs. Her testimony says you asked her about the photographs on the wall. Why did you do that Michael?”

“Shut up!”

“What was it about her, about those photographs Michael?”


“Did you plan it in advance Michael? Was that why you followed her upstairs? Did you wait for that opportunity all night?”


“No? So what then Michael? If you didn’t plan it, what made you do it?”

“I don’t know…”

“But you do know. Was it something she said? Something she did?”

“I’m telling you man, I don’t know why I did it! It just happened ok?”

“You’re lying Michael.”

“Fuck off…”

“So what did she say when you asked her about the photographs?”

“Told me who they were of I guess.”

“And who were they? Who were the people in those photographs?”

“Her family.”

“And then what?”

“And then I raped her. She told me about her family and I raped her. End of story.”

“No. Not end of story. You still haven’t told me why.”

“Because she was there ok? She was just there. At the wrong place at the wrong time. She shouldn’t have gone upstairs alone. That’s all.”

“In her own home?”

“She shouldn’t have… And she shouldn’t have told me about the photos. She was looking all happy when she talked about her family. She shouldn’t have done that. She shouldn’t have smiled like that. She just shouldn’t have…”

“Was that the reason?”

“She was just so happy, so… pure. Unspoiled.”

“Was that why you did it?”


“Because she was happy?”

“Because she was so pure. So innocent. I guess it was jealousy. She had it all. She had everything that I wanted. She was so right and I am so wrong. Then it all went all messed up in my head. Like I couldn’t think anymore. It was like rage. I just wanted to destroy her. Destroy that innocence. Defile her. Make her as dirty as me. Because it all seemed so unfair. Why should she be so pure? Like I wanted to punish her for that. Like I wanted to punish her for all my shit. It was like I blamed her. If I could only destroy her perfect world that would make mine seem less…well, imperfect. None of it made sense really, but then and there it all made perfect sense. It was like that was the only thing I could do. And I was filled with this rage, or desperation, or whatever it was. And I was drunk. And I didn’t know what I was doing… “


“And… well… I didn’t know what I was doing…

“But you did Michael. You managed to get her into the bathroom and lock the door. That means you must have had some idea what you were doing.”

“No I didn’t. Or I did. Or… I don’t know. It was like I couldn’t control it. Like I could see myself from the outside and I didn’t want to do it, I hated myself for doing it, but I still couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t stop. And then when she started begging me to stop, that’s when I hit her. And then she started screaming and I was worried someone would hear her so I put a towel in her mouth but no one could hear her anyway because the music was too loud and everyone was drunk. And I just kept going. Even though I didn’t want to. And she kept on crying. But she didn’t fight back that much which made me even angrier. She should have fought back. She should have fought to keep what she had. That made me so furious, that she didn’t even fight for it. Like she didn’t even realise what she had. But I still had to take it because maybe then she would realise what she had. I had to make her as dirty as me to make her see. And then I was worried that I wouldn’t get a hard-on, but I did. And I was proud and disgusted at the same time. And I just wanted it to be over… And I think I hit her again. And then I went soft and I just felt sick. I didn’t even come, I threw up instead. But she didn’t even try to hit me. Not even when I was spewing my guts out completely helpless. It would have been so easy for her, but she just lay there. On the floor. Crying and bleeding from her nose with the towel still in her mouth. I think she was afraid of me. And I hated myself for what I had done and I hated her for making me do it. I hated her for not stopping me. I hated her for not even trying to kick my ass. And deep down I still knew she didn’t make me do it. She had nothing to do with it. It was all me. And I couldn’t stop throwing up.”

He doesn’t know what to say now. He just looks at me. With disgust. Fuck, he really made me crack… How the fuck did he do that….

“Well Michael…”

“Yeah, I’m sick. I know. Better lock me up for good huh?”

“No Michael, you are not sick. You are a very tormented and damaged young man, but there is no need to lock you up for good.”

Is he smiling? Is that dude actually smiling at me? Is he enjoying this? Is he getting off on this? He’s the sick one here, not me!

“So what are you going to do with me? I am a danger to society…”

“No you aren’t Michael. Not anymore. This was the first step. What you did to that girl was bad, terrible, but the fact that you could finally talk about it is the first step.”

“To what?”

“To recovery. To being fixed as you say.”

“You really think you can fix me?”

“Yes, Michael, I do. You are crying again. That’s good. Tears are healthy. And I think those are real tears. It shows you actually feel remorse for what you have done. That’s also healthy. You talk about being fixed and that tells me that you actually realize you are in need of fixing. But fixing is something we do with things that are broken. And that’s why I am saying I want to know where you are coming from. What you’ve been through. When you say you are dirty I want to know why you feel like that. Because when you say the rape was actually about you, I think you are right. And yes, you are right about why you are here. You are here so that I can help you make sure you’ll never do something like that again. To stop you from hurting other people, but above all to stop you from hurting yourself. And I am sorry that you have had to go this far. That you didn’t get help earlier. You should have, but it’s not too late.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive. But it’s up to you Michael. You have to do all the work. The only thing I can help you with is no not shut up or fuck off when you tell me to.”

That was five years ago and I still don’t know how that guy got me to crack like that. If there was something special about him or if it was just a widow of opportunity. He saw it and he seized it. I don’t know. But for some reason, whatever that was, it all came out then and there. Like it was just waiting to pop. Like I was just waiting to snap.  Maybe he just pushed the right buttons at the right time. I don’t think there was anything special about that guy, not really. I have met far better shrinks since then, but still he made me tell it all. Made me crack. Totally. I guess he was just at the right place at the right time. And in a way I’m glad he was. I can’t say everything changed after that day, that would be saying too much, but still I think that’s where it all started. From then on the direction shifted. My direction shifted. Less wrong and more right. It wasn’t easy, it’s still not easy, but at least it’s not the same. At least I’m not were I started and I guess that is good. So far so good.

2 responses to “A danger to society. (short story)

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