So the profiles were all set up. Now, I needed to add people to both accounts, to get as many people as possible to experience the scream.
It seemed like more than a coincidence that right as I realized that there was something more to this weird zombie girl thing, my phone broke. So I wasn't going on my normal facebook account, and I had no phone. Erik had no way of reaching me. Maybe, this was one of those times when it would do me good to be a bit cut off from everyone else.
I added one of Matthew's sisters, and Matthew's ex-girlfriend Amber. I added random people from my high school class, people who had not accepted my friend request when I added everyone, and people who had added me but later removed me. I also added a few people who still had me as a friend. I added people from Innercept. I added all sorts of people, for different reasons. Several people from Innercept actually accepted.
I knew the scream wouldn't work on Erik because we had already been talking about the situation with Crystal where I referred to her as weird zombie girl. So, I sent it instead to Erik's cousin.
After this, I don't recall the exact order that everything happened in.
I started to realize that everything that I had feared for so long was true. People hadn't gotten on Crystal's case for putting puke in front of my door. Instead, they had gotten on my case behind my back for being delusional, and having such weird misconstrued ideas.
When I had been telling Brandon about the Matthew III situation, I had mentioned that I had always wanted to joke about the whole thing after it was all done and over with, but I wouldn't dare, because I wasn't sure how my friends felt about it. I thought that they might be embarrassed that they believed it. I wasn't, but I didn't know if they were or not and I got the impression they were.
However, there was a small group of people from my old dorm, and I wasn't exactly sure who these people were, Sean was one of them, but I wasn't sure who else was. It had become this little running joke amongst them to demean me all the time for my misconstrued ideas.
“But first, let's give thanks to our loving savior Rachel,” Sean would say.
“Who gives incredible blow jobs,” someone else would add.
“Let's sit around and talk about force-feeding her semen.”
As all this began to dawn on me, I went into a much different, uncomfortable, agitated spiritual state.
I had taken my computer back into my room, and that is where I would spend most of my time. I came out of my room after dinner one night, and I was feeling funny, and talking to my dad. He used the word scream. I stared at him with an intense expression in my eyes, and repeated that one word: “SCREAM.”
At the time I had done that, I thought it was because I was making other people scream. Later though, it turned out, I was the one who began screaming. All the angst and agitation I had been experiencing over the last several years was coming to a climax. At times I would ask, God, isn't there something I can take? But I knew there wasn't. This was a spiritual state, not a mental state, and drugs weren't going to touch it. The best thing I could do would be to lay off the unnecessary drugs.
It was like I had had all these walls up to keep all this pain out. Now, they were coming down. And it got worse and worse as I began to realize that all my worst fears about what people thought about me were reality.
People from my old dorm knew about the thing between Brandon and I. I remembered back to when I first contacted Brandon, and he had told me he didn't know what I was talking about, and I had decided he wasn't telling the truth. People had hated me for doing that. They hated me for accusing him of lying. They had also hated me for continuing to believe in my misconstrued ideas, despite the fact that Brandon and Crystal stayed together after I had believed the livejournal thing had happened. I was shocked and exasperated by this. Oh my God. These people don't understand delusions! Why would they do that? Why would they hate me for that? Wouldn't it have occurred to them that there might be something about being delusional that they didn't understand? That was the underlying purpose of the Nietzsche quote.
I realized something else. Brandon had done more than just read my facebook messages himself. He had forwarded some of them to Crystal, in an effort to win her back. He hadn't forwarded the good ones though, just the ones that made me look bad. Just the ones that embarrassed the shit out of me.
I was the second coming of Christ. The first coming of Christ was crucified physically. The second coming of Christ was crucified with hatred.
While this was going on, I was still continuously adding people as friends on facebook. I knew that these accounts violated several facebook policies. You are not allowed to have multiple accounts, and you are not allowed to have fake accounts that don't represent you. However, as I heard Brandon say in my head:
“She's counting on the fact this is so cool, no one is going to report it.”
Some people from Innercept were accepting the friend's requests. I found this slightly odd. They were supposed to look at the profiles, but after they experienced the scream they weren't supposed to want to accept. I wondered if it was because the scream didn't actually work on everyone.
I had sent friend requests to my old RA from Bernard. It had apparently worked on him, according to some of the stuff I was hearing in my head.
I overheard Brandon talking to Sean:
“Sean, you don't want to experience the scream. Mark experienced it for us, and he said it was horrible. It is a feeling so horrible you just want it to go away, but there is no relief.”
Then, I realized something that scared the shit out of me: I had sent friend requests to this guy from Innercept, Dan. I sent it to him because I loved Dan and I thought he would want to experience the scream. But the scream was horrible. No one wanted to experience the scream. And Dan already suffered from extreme depression. I wondered if the weird zombie girl thing might cause him to do something irreversible, like take his own life.
I had to contact Dan, to tell him to not look at the profiles, but I was already in the car going to the store with my dad. I didn't have my phone, and it wasn't working anyway. I knew bringing this up to my dad was not a good idea because he would just think I was being ridiculous. There was nothing I could do.
Actually, there was one thing I could do. I was the second coming. I was a facet of God. God was very powerful. If I spoke to God, maybe He would listen.
So I started praying in my head. I wasn't used to praying like this, but I tried the only thing I could think of to do. I just started repeating the same phrase over and over again in my head:
“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost, save Dan. In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost, save Dan.”
Later, I realized that Dan hadn't been in danger in that way. However, there had been another reason I was praying to save Dan. Dan was Jewish.
Previously, not all that long before this while I was still in Idaho, I had been looking at the people Brandon had as facebook friends, while logged in from another facebook account. I had noticed someone on there whom I knew, someone I didn't think was on his list before. It was this girl named Emily, a girl from my high school class. This girl had also been in my drama class in the eighth grade.
I could remember back to drama class. Emily hadn't been particularly popular, but she had apparently been planning on being popular in high school. There was one day when we were choosing partners for a scene, and it looked like I was going to have to pair up with Emily. Emily started pleading with some other girls, asking that one of them pair up with me instead. Because they were seventh graders and they would have time to recover their reputations, but she was in the eighth grade and she was going to be in high school next year. Because doing one small scene with me was going to ruin her reputation, apparently. It was exceptionally rude. After she was done, she turned to me and said, “No offense, Rachel.” I gave her a big fake smile. It was ridiculous because first off, no one was even going to know she did a scene with me. Second off, no one would care. A lot of people would have probably been like, “Who's Rachel Zuhl?”
However, even though this girl could be judgmental, I knew she wasn't nasty like some other people were. I actually had her as a friend on facebook now too.
I imagined that Brandon and Emily had met, and that when Brandon found out she was in my high school class, he asked her about how I was in high school. I imagined that Emily had given him some information.
I was imagining Brandon telling someone something about me that he had learned from Emily. “There was a time in high school at an assembly when Rachel was with her friends, and they all laughed really hard at something that wasn't funny. It really stood out that Rachel was the only one of them that didn't laugh.”
I could remember this. It was during an assembly junior year. We were supposed to be split up by classes, and each class had an assembly in a different part of the school. Timmy had come to the junior assembly despite the fact that he was a senior. One of the upperclassmen who was running the assembly noticed this and said his last name, and my friends all laughed really hard for a really long time. I knew that other people would think it was weird how hard they laughed at that.
Laughing at something that wasn't funny was a theme that related to weird zombie girl. When you are going through the profiles, you are smiling, then you get to the end, and what was first funny suddenly freaks the shit out of you. You realize you thought something was funny that wasn't funny at all.
I thought about how people at Innercept had thought it was funny how I said “spirits” all the time. Except, I did it because I was in pain. They were laughing at something that wasn't actually funny.
I knew the significance of this. This was God commenting on our society. We live in a perverted society that laughs at something that is not at all funny. That thing is pain. We laugh at other peoples' pain. But pain isn't funny.
Those people from my old dorm, whoever they were, they were laughing at something that wasn't funny. They were laughing at my pain.
I could hear Crystal talking, back when she found out what had happened to me with the mental illness:
“Blake spent thousands of dollars on a lawyer and he lost. He was convicted of furnishing alcohol to a minor because of Rachel, so now he doesn't have a clean record. This is karma!”
I remembered how Blake and I had talked a bit via facebook messaging after the ER incident, and he said that they were talking about charging him with that. I hadn't known that it had actually happened and had always really hoped that it didn't. When I had seen Blake that one day, and he had seemed very distant, it wasn't because of the puke. It was because of the legal issues he was facing because of me.
I thought back to my previous beliefs about the past life with Brandon and karma. I had believed that Brandon had shot me, but because it was something he just did in a split second when his judgment was impaired, I had bad karma from it. There was a parallel between my belief of Brandon shooting me in a split second, and my gulping down Blake's alcohol in a split second. It was something I just did very fast without even thinking, and I had already been drinking. My judgment was impaired. Would I have to face such heavy karma for something like that?
I could hear Blake talking, explaining to Crystal why he still had me as a friend on facebook. “Crystal, there was something so innocent about the way she did that.”
But that's what people from my old dorm must have thought. This was karma. It was so ridiculous that I believed I was Jesus after I had done something like that. They didn't understand that the second coming was different.
So they laughed at me. And they thought everything that had happened to me was funny. They didn't realize that they were laughing at something that wasn't funny. This really did ruin my life. I spent the past four and a half years at a treatment center. And while they all probably had real jobs, my occupation was a lot like what I had listed on SmirkydeSmirkster's profile. I was a pill popper. And I was only a volunteer.
While I was in this agitated spiritual state, I would progress through different ideas and theories about what was going on with my whole issue with Brandon. I was hearing things constantly. But, as always, when I heard things, I knew they were just in my head. They were my own thoughts. However, it was as if my own thoughts were louder than normal.
As I would progress through ideas, I would often hold two or more ideas simultaneously, ideas which couldn't possibly all be true. I knew this. I would tell myself, those two ideas can't both be true. However, when I held these ideas in my head, despite the fact that they weren't all true, it created some sort of balance. As if these contradictory ideas created harmony when placed together.
It was sort of like, you have a set of wheels that represent your beliefs. The position of the wheel determines what your belief is. It was as if someone had come up and spun all the wheels around wildly, so they were now spinning, going from one belief to another, and the beliefs as determined by the position of different wheels didn't line up with one another.
I realized something. I had been having so much trouble understanding why Brandon had treated me the way had. He hated me, but sometimes I got the impression that he secretly liked me. It was really quite simple. He was a guy. He wasn't romantically interested in me. He just wanted to have sex with me. That was it.
Why had that been so hard to understand? I had been coming up with the strangest explanations for what was going on... I reminded Brandon of his dead sister Sophie, Brandon had killed me in a past life... when really all it was was sexual tension.
When I realized this, I went down, and explained this to my dad. The reason I did this was because I knew this was something my dad would think made a lot of sense, since he was always telling me how guys were different then girls. I wanted to prove to him that despite the fact that I was going around the house randomly screaming, I was thinking in a way that made sense.
I told my dad the thing about sexual tension. Then, another thought occurred to me. I went to ask my dad about this.
“Feether Meeke.”
“Yes?”
“Is I true that... guys secretly don't like lipstick?” I was thinking that this was a secret amongst men, that they don't tell women, or necessarily even talk about amongst themselves. Sure, lipstick looks nice. But it's a mess. You try to fool around with a girl, you get her lipstick all over you. That's why it would be better if girls just didn't wear lipstick.
My dad answered me. “No. Sometimes it's kind of nice after you've kissed a girl, to have her lipstick on you.”
I went back upstairs. Okay. So that was wrong. Or was my dad's opinion the same as other guys?
I thought about something else, which I didn't dare ask my dad about. Swallowing semen. One thing I have noticed about guys is that, a lot of them think it's hot when girls do it, but disgusting when guys do it. When a guy has a girl swallow his semen, he is taking advantage of her ignorance. Girls don't realize how nasty semen is because they don't have to look at it all the time. Guys will masturbate, and look at this nasty stuff coming out of their dick when they come, and after staring at it time after time, you realize how nasty it is. This is something you would never, ever want to eat. But guys, they come in girls' mouths, and they don't even get to see it most of the time. The whole idea of swallowing was degrading to women.
It was like I always knew this. I remembered a girl named Chelsea. She stated proudly one time that she swallows (this comment is taken out of context). I replied, “Yeah? Well, I don't swallow!” And I was proud of that. Because I knew that sure, guys like it when girls swallow. It's hot. But do they respect girls who swallow? No. When a girl swallows, they respect her a little bit less.
I imagined a girl, a girl who swallows. She was stupid, ignorant, childish, and pathetic. She swallowed because she wanted affection. “But I thought you looooved meeee...” she moaned in a pathetic, disgusting, very sheep-like voice.
Another thing I thought about was my hair. Guys liked the way I had my hair done. At least, I imagined they did. The way I got it done, I had highlights, but instead of lots of very small highlights, there were a few bigger, chunkier highlights. Sure, it didn't look natural. But the way I did my highlights, the exact width, turned guys on. I imagined that the reason I knew this, was because I had divine knowledge, a divine understanding of what guys found attractive, and what was aesthetically pleasing. I always wondered why other girls didn't get their hair done this way. When I went to the hair salon, I had to insist on this exact width.
I was in a lot of pain. I kept thinking about all the crap I had gone through. With Brandon, with the doctors, with my delusions, with the treatment centers. This had ruined my life. And on top of that, everyone from Bernard was doing exactly what I feared. They did think bad things about me for continuously talking to Brandon, despite the fact that he didn't respond. For saying all that crap about blow jobs. For having delusions about him. I was a loser. They didn't bother to listen to me. To ask me why I had done what I had done, what my reasons were. No one had ever talked to me about any of it. They just demeaned me for it. They hadn't been around me in so long, they had forgotten how sensitive I was. I hated them for it. I was standing in front of the mirror, staring at myself, and I had a look of shock on my face. If they had been there at this moment, I would have stared at them in shock. I would have told them that they made me sick. But when it was all over, I would have definitely forgiven them. Because that's what Jesus did. He forgave the people who had crucified him.
I was in so much pain I wanted to scream out in agony. This was the peak of my mental pain, but now I was stripped of anything that would have comforted me. I couldn't comfort myself by thinking of the funny or clever things I had said. Because Brandon wouldn't let people see my good side.
God, I had such a horrible life. I went out in the hall, and my parents were standing there. I began screaming at them. I screamed at them for getting a guardianship over me. I screamed at them, telling them they hadn't needed to, I would have signed anything they told me to sign. But they wouldn't even try that. They just assumed that I wouldn't sign things and took legal action. They didn't understand how degrading what they had done was. I screamed at them, telling them how horrible it was to have lived a good portion of my life in a treatment center. And now I was twenty-six, and I still hadn't grown up. I was still like a teenager. Why had they done this to me? I had such a horrible life. Why couldn't they understand how horrible my life was? But it was okay. I forgave them. I held onto my mom's shoulders and assured her over and over again that I forgave her. I forgave her.
My parents didn't even argue. Or try to stop me. They just looked very sad. And my mom cried. And I felt bad that I had hurt her feelings.
My parents went back downstairs again and were watching TV. I wanted to assure them that things weren't as horrible as I had led on. That I had gotten carried away. I had a great life. Just at that moment, I was having trouble seeing it for its good side.
So I came downstairs, and smiled, and starting walking around the kitchen in a joyful fashion, chanting, “Doop di doop di doop di doop di doop.” Then I told them that I was sorry. And that I had actually had a great life. And I meant it. I had. Because at this moment, all these moments from my life were flooding back to me. And I was remembering all sorts of interesting things from my life that I had forgotten.
I talked to my parents about how much I feared the upcoming scream. The scream was inevitable. One of these days, I would just let out a horrible scream, a scream that went on and on, as I suddenly felt nothing but agony over everything I had gone through. I was terrified of this.
I couldn't sleep at night. I was thinking about Brandon again. I was up late, thinking about him, and how much I wanted him. I was rolling around on my bed, writhing, burning up with this intense desire for him. I didn't even need to be in a relationship with him anymore. I just wanted to fuck the shit out of him.
However, that wasn't actually the reason I couldn't sleep. I was having this problem where every time I went to sleep, something really horrible would happen. It was much worse than the feeling like I was dying, as scary as that was. Every time I fell asleep, I felt like I had gone to hell. It wasn't nightmares. It was much worse than nightmares. It was an incredibly dark spiritual state. I didn't really have any dreams, though there were vague ideas of horrible situations which I wasn't able to recall upon waking. It was so horrible that I just could not sleep.
I told my parents that I could not sleep. They wanted to give me some medication to help me sleep. This scared me. Because I was worried they would give me something that would knock me out for a long time, and I would spend that time stuck in hell. So I told them no. Please don't give me anything to help me sleep. In order to sleep again, I needed to get baptized.
I told Erik. He begged me to get some sleep. I was putting myself at severe risk by becoming so sleep deprived. If I needed to get baptized, then I should get baptized as soon as possible. But for the love of God Rachel, get some sleep.
I looked up baptisms on the internet. There was a place in Portland that offered them. I filled out a form so I could get one. My dad gave me a new phone. However, they never ended up calling me. I went another night without sleep.
A thought occurred to me. Was a baptism really necessary? Maybe there was some way that I could accept Jesus and be saved, without actually getting baptized, for now. What did the bible say about being saved? I did some research. In Romans, it said you needed to profess that Jesus is lord by mouth while believing in your heart that Jesus rose from the dead, and you would be saved. I called Lily, who happened to be a recently ordained minister. I asked if that was all I had to do, and I decided to try it to see if it worked. So I said it, while on the phone. “Jesus Christ is lord.” About ten minutes after I hung up, while I was standing in the bathroom, I felt some divine light shining on me. I had done it. It had worked. Thank God.
I don't know if I was able to sleep right away after I was saved. I think I slept a bit that night, but still not enough. However, I never again had the problem of going to hell upon falling asleep. Getting saved cured it. But I was left in a state of fear and horror. Because my eyes were opened to something really horrible about the world. Everyone who is not saved, who has not accepted Jesus as their savior, goes to hell after they die. At least, the majority do. I wasn't sure exactly how strict this rule was.
But the people at bible study had been right. You had to be saved. The idea of being saved was starting to become a joke. I had thought it was silly how Jen had said “Ouch!” when the pastor mentioned someone who wasn't saved. But she had been right. It was an ouch. This was even scarier to me than global warming had seemed back when my misconstrued ideas started.
I started to feel like I was God, like I understood things like God did, like I had God's sense of humor. One of the things I thought I understood was the mechanics of being saved. Here on Earth, we are separate from God, but we are connected to God by a cord. All comfort and pleasure we experience is the result of our connection to God through that cord. The cord breaks upon death. When one accepts Jesus Christ as their savior, another cord is created. God uses that cord to reel you back in upon death. But if you don't accept Jesus, there is no cord. You lose all connection to God. God can't find you, and you are lost for all of eternity, in a state of unimaginable horror and agony.
Something I thought was funny when I felt like I was God was people's response to Jesus. Jesus came down to die for people's sins and teach them moral lessons. However, a lot of people didn't learn the moral lessons they were supposed to from Jesus. Instead of learning from his teachings, they were just... in awe of how great he was. Like, “Woahhhhhh.... That guy was great. NO ONE compares themselves to THAT guy.” It was funny because I knew that comparing yourself to Jesus was not really sacrilegious or a sin or anything bad. What was a sin was hatred. This was so funny to me at this time, I was laughing my head off.
However, I was still going through my pain. Now, I was going through Dark Night of the Soul. Dark Night of the Soul is a spiritual crisis that occurs in Christianity during the journey toward union with God. It wasn't supposed to be pleasant.
I knew that what was supposed to happen was, the pain I was experiencing, at some point it was supposed to lift all of a sudden. And I would experience peace.
This happened one day as I walked out of my room. Suddenly, I was above all of it. I was above allowing those other people to get me down. I was at peace. This occurred to me as the smell of peace entered my nostrils. I inhaled deeply.
“Oh my God! That smell! What's that smell?” I inhaled as deep as I could again and again, breathing in this smell that was in the air. It was one of the most pleasant smells I have ever experienced. It was sweet, but it wasn't sickeningly sweet. It had a nice depth too it. It wasn't overwhelming, but something about it pierced my soul. “Oh my God! What's that smell? What's that smell? Oh my God! That smell!” My dad said it was the smell of rice cooking. Though, later, I discovered that what I was smelling was a scented candle. The brand was Pacifica, the scent Tahitian gardenia.
There were a few times after that where I felt like I was about to lose the peace I had attained, and I was going to slip back into Dark Night of the Soul. But I never actually did.
By now, it was February 14th: Valentine's Day. That morning, I had a beautiful bouquet of roses sent to my house from Erik. The card read: “It's always darkest right before the dawn.” This filled me full of fear. This was an omen! The worst was yet to come.
I realized that within Crystal's hatred of me, there was an element of jealousy. Crystal had been jealous of me because I got to have sex with Blake. Of course, this was silly, because I had been passed out when I had sex with Blake, or at least blacked out. I had no memory of it. After Crystal had put puke in front of my door, I had reacted by doing something clever: removing all the signs except one, “A wedding ring is like a tourniquet – it cuts off your circulation.” I left that sign because it was stupid. Crystal apparently didn't want to get married.
I realized that people at my old dorm had been laughing at me over something. They were laughing over the fact that I had thought that Crystal took the thing about me never talking literally, when I was the one who had taken the puke literally. Crystal hadn't put puke in front of my door merely to inconvenience me. It was a very symbolic gesture, symbolizing how deeply I revolted her.
She may not have taken me never talking literally, but she had done something equally stupid. She had mistaken my tone of voice on the comment, “It seems I'm more famous than I thought.” I was being facetious. She didn't understand my sense of humor and she had thought that I was somehow proud of the ER incident because it made me famous. I wasn't exactly sure of this, but this is what I was picking up on. Of course, with the cycling of ideas, truth was irrelevant. Just roll with it.
I knew that Crystal wouldn't hate me as much as she did if she had ever met me. Not necessarily because she would have realized that I wasn't a bad person, but more because it is much easier to dehumanize someone whom you have never met. If she had met me, she would have seen me as a human being, and not someone that needs to be eternally punished for a split second bad decision.
While I was done with Dark Night of the Soul, my brain was still coming up with new ideas. I suddenly started imagining the pictures and the things I had told Brandon, plastered all over the internet. I imagined someone else going on my facebook and posting the sexual pictures, and putting them anywhere else they could, all over the internet. Putting my embarrassing quotes out there. Giving other people all the information which I had given Brandon.
As my brain got carried away imagining all this horrible stuff, a voice in my head spoke up.
For the love of God, Rachel, get some sleep.
I still hadn't gotten an adequate night's sleep. And now, I was paying the price. I was starting to lose whatever sanity I had had. I was losing that familiar feeling of normalcy, that feeling of grounding, that feeling that gives you a sense of living on a fixed timeline. I felt like I could float off into the clouds and be gone forever without ever actually dying.
I had never truly lost my sanity. I had never really had a mental breakdown, like everyone else seemed to think I had. Whatever I had experienced before, that's not what losing it felt like. This was what it felt like. I was confused. My brain was going crazy imagining all this stuff about me plastered all over the internet, and on facebook. I remembered how my therapist had been misquoted as saying I thought people could go on my facebook and do things to me. It was like that was some sort of prophecy.
For the love of God, Rachel, get some sleep.
I just needed to stop thinking about this and sleep. The thing was, it was the middle of the day and my Adderall wasn't going to let me sleep. But I had to sleep. My mom was able to acquire some Zyprexa for me, which is a prescription drug in the atypical antipsychotic class. The thing about Zyprexa is, no matter how awake you are, you take an adequate dose of Zyprexa and you will go to sleep for hours. I took some, and I slept peacefully for a long time. When I woke up I was finally well rested.
I had a nightmare one time during my freshman year of high school. It involved this man, who I may have been romantically involved with. I had been warned very strongly never to look this man straight in the eye. I wasn't given a reason. Just don't do it. So I tried my hardest not to. I was out with the man at a restaurant with some other people, and I turned to say something to the man and accidentally looked him straight in the eye. This was when I figured out why you were not supposed to do this. The whites of his eyes were not white, they were yellow, and there was this dark spot in one of his eyes, in the yellow part, and it was not his pupil. The eyes are a window into the soul. I was looking at something dark about his soul, and it freaked me out so bad I jumped up and screamed at the top of my lungs. Then I started running away, trying to get away from him, and he started following me. I ran into the bathroom but he followed me in. I don't remember what happened after that.
I was reminded of this dream during my freshman year of college, when I was looking at Brandon's myspace page. On his profile he warned people not to look him straight in the eyes, because there was something dark, something that he didn't like to look at.
When I woke up from my nap, I was well-rested. I had achieved some insight and clarity on what I had been thinking previously about my stuff plastered all over the internet.
Brandon knew how to crack passwords. That was why at some point earlier, my password had been floating strongly through my head. He knew my password. Or at least one of the passwords I used, as I now used different ones. Back when I had been sending Brandon messages, they came up with the idea to take advantage of what I was going through and plaster embarrassing stuff all over my facebook and the internet. Brandon didn't want to, but he was in so much pain after he broke up with Crystal, he would have done anything to get her back. He thought that if the two of them ruined my life together, then he would have her back. So he was willing to do it. Of course, she wouldn't have taken him back anyway. She had a new boyfriend.
So Brandon hacked the file that was sent to the treatment center in Santa Barbara and added the bit about how I think people can go on my facebook and do things to me. The reason he did this was so that if I started complaining about the stuff they were doing, people wouldn't take me seriously. Of course, this part of the plan would not have worked. I know that people would have still taken me seriously. Besides, when I was in Santa Barbara I was still in contact with my parents and they could have proven that I had never said that. This part of his plan would not have worked. However, there was a time when I was not allowed computer access, and they could have done this then and I wouldn't have known until it was too late.
But Brandon and Crystal didn't realize that I was going to read the intake report, and when I sent my therapist a nasty email it scared them, since they could read my email. They got in a fight and ended up not doing it.
What I thought was interesting about this was the fact that through sending my therapist a nasty email, I had narrowly avoided a disaster. My mom had gotten mad at me for being nasty to my therapist.
What was also interesting was that Brandon was willing to ruin someone else's life in the hopes that it would make his life a little bit better. He would have ruined someone else's life for his own selfish purposes.
That was all I was to Brandon. That was the reason he had gone six months without blocking me. He saw me as a way to win Crystal back.
As I was sitting in my room on my bed, I got lost in thought. A bunch of ideas started coming to me. I was in a normal state of mind. My brain wasn't chaotic like it was during the rush. But I realized a bunch of stuff all at once.
“Rachel thinks she's good because of the way she was about Matthew's secret. What she doesn't realize is that she invaded his privacy by telling me. However, I knew that what Matthew had done still wasn't nearly as vile as what I had done to my younger sister.” This was Brandon talking.
Back during the summer right before I contacted Brandon regarding my delusions, Brandon had posted a photo album on facebook of his family vacation. One thing I had noticed was that he had a younger sister who was exceptionally heavy. Which was odd, because no one else in his family was heavy, I had seen his mother and father and they appeared to be a normal weight, and Brandon was a normal weight.
Back when Brandon and his little sister were very young, Brandon had hated her. He just wanted her to die. So one day, he started shoving food down her throat really fast while stimulating her sexually. His plan was to fuck her up so that all she'd ever want to do was eat.
His little sister was young, but she was old enough to talk. She didn't know what Brandon's intentions were. She thought it was fun. She got a really strong high from it.
“Oh my God Brandon, you're like my best friend!”
So, Brandon kept doing it. The trouble was, Brandon's plan ended up working. By doing this to her when she was so young, it gave her a fetish for eating. Now she has uncontrollable orgasms every time she eats. The high she got from what Brandon did to her was so strong, it was almost like trying crack. Now, it was like she was chasing the dragon. Every moment she's not eating, she's bored.
That was why Brandon had titled the blog entry about his dream, “Freud Was Right.” Because of Freud's theories about sexual development in the early years.
As Brandon got older, he grew to love his little sister. But he had already ruined her life.
“Whenever people find out about my little sister's problem, they laugh at her. It's so sick how people laugh at something so horrible.”
Once I figured this out, I was so horrified by what Brandon had done I was walking around in a state of shock. I had to ask myself, “What would Jesus do?” Was this something so big and awful that Jesus could not forgive? No, it wasn't. So I forgave Brandon.
But I wasn't done with my revelation.
“Some of Rachel's messages were so funny I was just laughing my head off. It wasn't until a while after it was all over that I realized that I liked Rachel. She was funny, and she wasn't nasty like Crystal was. So now, I invade every aspect of Rachel's privacy. Rachel left a massive imprint on the internet. I just always keep her blocked on facebook so that she doesn't know.” I realized that the message I had been writing to Brandon when I was attempting suicide with aspirin had not gotten accidentally sent. However, Brandon had gone on my myspace because he knew my password and he had seen that I had been writing one to him, and that's why he had blocked me there.
Despite all the embarrassing things I knew that Brandon had seen about me, I wasn't angry. Because I knew that Brandon accepted me for what I was, despite the fact that I wasn't perfect. It was like he knew everything about me, and he still loved me. Brandon's love was unconditional. He had seen the good in me and no amount of bad stuff was going to take that away.
People had thought I was stupid for not realizing that the reason Brandon treated me poorly was just because of sexual tension. However, now I realized that it wasn't just sexual tension.
“Rachel was wrong, she doesn't remind me of my big sister. She reminds me of my little sister.”
“I used to feed my little sister carrot cake. That's why I always secretly hated how Rachel would go in her room and eat carrot cake.”
I realized that Brandon wasn't alone. He had gotten married. That was why he had his arm around a girl in his facebook profile picture. You just had to be his friend in order to see his relationship status. Duh.
I heard Brandon talking, as if he was talking to his wife. “When I first moved off to college, I moved into this dorm. It was all guys on this floor except for this one really hot girl at the end of the hall. At the beginning of the year, this girl was like a sex symbol. But then, she turned out to be this whore.”
At this point, somehow I knew what Sean had said to the guy who had asked him if the girl on that floor was hot.
“Is she hot?”
“She's mine.”
“Dude, you say that like she's your girlfriend.”
I heard Brandon talking again. “One night I went in her room with her, took off all her clothes, touched her and made out with her. I had her so turned on she was rolling all over the bed writhing. But when I asked her if she wanted me or the guy next door, she still said the guy next door. I was so mad I just wanted to rape her. I already had her lying there completely naked. But I didn't, because I remembered what I had done to my little sister, and how I had taken advantage of her innocence.”
The idea was that girls never ask to be raped. Even if they are naked.
“I never forgave Rachel for that. But really, it was my fault. Rachel was different because she's a girl. Sexual attraction is different for girls. She had just met me. She didn't have feelings for me yet.”
I remembered the line Brandon had spoken in the dream I had had back when I lived in Bernard. “I knew Jesus, and she was a girl.” God realized that He had made a mistake with Jesus. Jesus should have been a girl. Because when He sent down Jesus, and Jesus taught people to have respect for women, it was lost on the people.
In my mind, I saw God making hand motions. He makes a hand motion to indicate that He is sending down Jesus. Then He waves His other hand in a circle and says, “Oh, the fire and the brimstone...” This is God getting the church leaders to warn people about the fire and the brimstone of hell that awaits them if they don't accept Jesus.
Then, He clasps his hand to his head. “Dammit! Jesus should have been a girl!”
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