CHAPTER 7

Dario's POV

"You're insane."

Yeah, I know. I get that. It's no news to me. It's been rained down on me quite a couple of times, especially by those fuckers who think they know shit about me. Yet, they yammer anyway. I keep my personal life quiet so don't think you know me. You only know what I allow you to. But, I take it. I accept it. I shoulder it because it's who I am. It's who I've been and the only reason I haven't fucked you up for calling me that in the first place is because I believe you.

Now, don't look at me that way, like you didn't know. Don't throw your ugly face at me like you didn't have a clue. Like you didn't have the slightest idea. That's pointless because I know you know. My biggest problem? I notice everything. I am quiet but trust me when I spit you this, I'm not blind.

I'd drop the formalities and introduce myself but then, I'm too insane to explain and you're too normal to understand. You know, I used to think I was just like you. Normal. Now, don't laugh at me. I'd tug your teeth out with a plier and shove it down your throat. Then, you'd tell me how you like that. Back to the matter. So, I compared myself to you and realized how fucking wrong I was. I'm insane but I'd prefer the term mentally creative.

You know this dude? What's his name again? Oh yeah, Rowan Sebastian Atkinson. If there's anyone I respect so damn much is that guy. He thought me one thing in life. He said 'enjoy your own company instead of expecting someone to make you happy.' I hate when people ask me, "Why are you so quiet?" Because I am. That's how I function. And I ask them right back, "Why are you so noisy?", "Why do you spit so damn much?". I suffer from that disorder where I speak the truth and it pisses people off so I am terribly apologetic if you don't like my harsh truth but I don't like your candy-coating bullshit either.

People

If there's anything on this earth that pisses me off so much is that word. People. People. People. I hate people. I curse people in my mind with the choicest of profanities. I loathe people.

People steal and try to make up a story to justify it.

People love to cast their problems on everyone else, like you haven't got yours.

People vote for liars and thugs. They love their own tyranny and cannot stop themselves, even if you yell into their ears at the decible level of a train horn.

People love to spread lies about people they deem less than themselves, and then shrug their shoulders with innocence, even though they've just destroyed someone's reputation with their lies.

People throw ugly people under the bus, or off a glacier, in order to save someone who is more cute. In fact, they'll sacrifice two hundred ugly people in order to save one cute person.

People are violent, they lie, they can't stop themselves from cheating on their spouse or significant loved one.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate mankind. I only hate people especially this particular asshole trailing behind me right now.

He's mad at me and heaven knows I am equally as irate as well. We may be buddies and shit but that doesn't give him the right to spit at me the way he did over there and over what? Over some random frump? A frump he shouldn't give a flying fuck about? One lame bitch who isn't worth the hassle? What happened to bros before hoes? What happened to having my back always?

You see why I hate people? So what good are people to me? Good sex with hot women is all I care about. I could care less whether I ever see my brothers, sisters, or mom again. Not like I've got any of those anyway. You think I'm jaded? A lost man? I think you are. You are dependent on rotten people for your whole life. I am not. I feel no sadness nor do I feel lonely and trust me when I spit you this, no one is coming to save you. This life is 100% your responsibility.

He tailgated me because like I spat. He's an asshole. I'm a bigger asshole so I can tell when I come across one like me. We got up to the next light where I pulled off to make a right turn. He stayed in the lane going straight, got up beside me and flipped me off, yelling something. Both our windows were up, so it was a lot of wasted breath. I got the gist of it tho, I assume some f-bombs were dropped, some m-fer bombs. I mean, it's basically always the same old speech, the road rage yell is pretty unoriginal these days. It'd be nice to see someone come up with a road rage rant that was a bit more creative, but I don't really hear it that much.

Anyway, after making my right turn he sat at the red light a couple seconds, then his rage must have gotten the better of him. He turned and followed me up the road I was travelling. The road just happened to become Main Street in the side of town where I live. He did the tailgate thing again which had me slitting my eyes at his ride. God help him if he does so much as leave a dent on mine.

I slid through the driveway and threw my car in park, cutting the engine right after. Then, I dashed out and made for the door. I'm not oblivious to his presence. Not when his footsteps echoes off the building announcing his arrival to all in an eight hundred metre radius.

And when his voice came barelling, "Dario." I stalled.

"What the fuck is your deal, huh? What the hell is wrong with you?" My muscles grew tight, jaw clenched. He knows better than anyone than to raise his voice at me.

"Tell me, man. What's your problem? It's not everyone you move about picking a fight with. Do you even realize what you just did out there? The magnitude of your dick ass move?"

My back turned to him, eyes squeezed shut, I was trying so hard...trying so fucking hard in restraining myself. A little piece of advice? Don't talk shit to me. Don't stand in my face and spit crap. If you want to oppose me, just stand against me by facing my courage and watching my legacy.

The thing is real friends talk shit to your face and say dope as fuck stuffs behind your back and maybe, just maybe that's the reason I still let him hang around me and vice versa till this very day. I'd rather have an enemy who admits they hate me than a friend who secretly puts me down.

As calm as possible, I spun, facing him, locking eyes with his furious ones. "Don't talk shit if you don't know shit."

He sneered, taking a step further, "Really? Are you fucking shitting me? You hurt her, man. You fucking hurt her and you stand there and spit that crap? Are you for real?"

"Don't talk shit if you don't know shit." I warned. My jaw developing a tic.

"Guys. Seriously? I'm trying to make a call here. Can you just...at least...take your little beef elsewhere." His head snapped over to Erika, paused for a second and came right back to me.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Take a wild guess."

He asked incredulously, "Were you actually gonna hit her?"

I repeated, "Take a wild guess."

"Man, what the fuck? She's just a girl. Just a freaking girl. What the heck did she even do to you? Why did you have to hurt her? She's fucking terrified man. I could bet on my dick she gone be traumatized for the rest of the semester."

I chuckled, "Then, I guess I should give myself a pat on the back and treat me to one hell of a money sucking Italian dish."

His face grew rigid, jaw clamped tight, teeth grinding. He barked, "Really? Can you just hear yourself speak? Make out the bullshit that flies out?"

Instantly, I exploded. I charged, coming right for him. Face to face, eyes locked, head two inches above his. I became lost in the moment and the torment my brain was in. There came the tension of my muscles, flexing of my veins threatening to explode and the inability to think clearly.

I snarled, spitting facts. "No, you hear the shit you spit, Keegan. You listen to the garbage you spill. Try catching the trash you let escape your goddamn mouth. I hope it doesn't make any fucking sense to you just like it doesn't to me and everyone else out there. You weren't there. You weren't fucking there to hear the bullshit she uttered. To listen to the utter crap she spewed in my face. Telling me this and that? Spitting trash? Like she's got any goddamn clue how the world turns? And then, she dared....the fuck? You out of everyone else is supposed to know I don't take a liking to making people get comfortable in disrespecting me. Y'all just seem to never learn.

I don't take shit from anyone. You wanna dish it out? You better be ready for me to shove it right back at you and you can be so damn sure I won't disappoint. Whoever the hell she is. If she's one of your bimbos. If you've got a fucking clue who the fuck she is, let her know never to fuck with me. She shouldn't think of fucking with me, Keegan. Cause I won't hold back next time. I'm sure you know what happens when I don't. But incase it slipped your mind, I'll be glad to help refresh your memory. Three words. Three words, Keegan. I'd snap. And when I snap, you can be damn sure it's gonna get messy so if you don't know shit about shit, don't say shit about it."

As soon as I laid my breath to rest, a loud shrilling voice punctured my ear drums.

"Guys, I said I'm on the phone. Keep it...."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP." At a stroke, my head snapped to the culprit, eyes cutting at Erika, sprawled out on the couch, phone clasped between her shoulder and ear. I didn't miss the way she jumped. The way her body quaked on impact. Her ass instantly left the couch. She stomped begrudgingly in the direction of the stairs. I'm just going to guess she's heading all the way to her room because I wouldn't want to deal with yet another third class twat.

Muttering trash on her way, mumbling as low as possible...so low that I wouldn't be able to hear and that's fine. She's smart. I'll give her that. She has probably heard what happens when you stand in front of me and spill out crap.

I shifted my glare back to Keegan to find his already pinned at me. Nose flaring, muscles tensed, lips twitching. I assume he had something more to say but chose to flush it down instead. Too bad for him cause news flash, I ain't done yet.

"She's just a girl, huh? Just a girl, you say? But I didn't care yesterday. Don't give a shit today and I'm sure as hell won't give a fuck tomorrow." I proceeded to backtrack, leaving my spot.

"Avoid me, Keegan. Avoid me. I mean it."

Taking three steps at a time, I reached the top of the stairs and swerved to the right, entering the hallway. I bashed into my space, storming in the direction of the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a bit in a bid to steam out but it wasn't working.

Instead of chilling out, my anger took off, spreading like wild fire. I needed some release. Some sort of relief even. It feels like I'm drowning and can't come up for air. I'm struggling and I try and keep trying to get air into my lungs but I can't. I hate this. I hate this so fucking much. I need a distraction. A distraction from every thing going on in my head.

It started off with a cold sting. Then a pinch. And finally, numbness. Like everything you ever worried about, even for just a short time, disappeared.

It feels so damn good. Yes it hurts. The pain is what leads to the best part, the release. That's the addicting part. The silent calm that overcomes my mind. My body no longer tense, no longer shaking. I feel light and free. So I do it again. Bliss. And again, never really wanting to stop.

It feels as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can equate it to getting out a sneeze that is stuck or turning in a high stake report minutes before it is due.

I throw my head back as a wave of calmness and relief washed over me.

It's like an escape. Excitement. Satisfaction.

I feel powerful and omnipresent. Once again, I am able to dictate what happens to me, and once the fuck again, I am able to regain control over my body. It's an addictive high and a way to just let go and feel as though the worst person on Earth- myself- is being dealth with and punished.

I toss down my sleeves right after fixing myself up. Descending the stairs, I didn't fail to perform a quick 360° around the living room. No one was in sight. Appeared like everyone had departed though the little chuckles and squeals still emanating from Erika's room right above my head only debunked the theory that I was basking in solitude and veered it straight into a fact. I'm guessing she's talking to one of her many harridans.

I fished out my bike from the garage and kick started it at the first trial. Now, don't ask me why I ain't employing the use of a headgear and all that shit. I have told you a lot. You prolly know more than you should and that isn't good. Well, for you of course. You should really learn to mind your business once in a while. Trust me when I spit you this cause I ain't gonna lie, it could do you a lot of good. That's the rule of the game. You snoop, you lose.

Once again, I crashed into the bleeding city with only one place in mind. Only one place that could render me alone for as long as I deem fit.

And maybe then, just maybe then, I won't have to deal with any more bullshits from you sonofabitches.