Sunday, February 6, 2011

Mind of a Murderer

Disclaimer: what follows is an exercise in fiction writing. Somewhere in America the next Jared Loughner or Seung-Hui Cho is mulling over his miserable life and choosing a target for his rage. Maybe this is what he's thinking. None of this is what I think--I love Charleston!

It has been such a long and gloomy winter, I think I’m going to explode. I’m stuck here in this nowhere little town, Charleston, West, by god, Virginia.. Nothing ever happens here. Once in awhile somebody kills somebody, but what do you expect, it’s America.  Downtown is two short blocks and a downtown shopping mall. Between them is the “transit mall” where the poor folk catch their busses to the west side or the east end, South Charleston, Dunbar, Marmet, Belle, all the little dead places that make up this chemical-laced, coal-built, state government financed river valley.

The Indians didn’t even want this place. They came here to hunt, but they lived in better places, flatter places where the sun doesn't sink behind a hill a couple hours after it clears the hill on the other side. Places where it doesn’t rain or snow every other day. Well, the snow isn’t too bad, but what’s getting to me is the clouds. I looked it up. It’s only sunny 65 days a year. That makes it cloudy 300 days of year. I need to get out of here, go someplace sunny. Groundhog day was just the other day. Guess what? It wasn’t sunny. Big surprise. But I have a feeling winter’s going to go on for a while.

I’m going to kill somebody. I haven’t decided who. Somebody famous. Thing is, not too many famous people come here. But eventually I’ll have my chance. People run for president. Forget killing a president, too hard. Even if you could get close, they’ve got him covered like a glove. Of course I could kill the governor, but that would be too easy. And who would care outside WV? I mean, I guess it would make a splash and be national news for a while, but in 50 years? Only the kids in WV History class would know, and they’d forget it. Of course, somebody running for president wouldn’t be all that famous either. I don’t know. Maybe I should kill the president. Or maybe I’ll kill a bunch of people. Like that guy Cho, the one that killed all the people at Virginia Tech.

But Cho killed himself. What a waste! I’m not saying I would expect to get away with it or anything. I don’t think I’d want to be like a serial killer, keeping everything secret, worrying about getting caught all the time, trying to outsmart the cops. Plus, I’m not into torture or anything. I wouldn't want to know anything about the people I kill. Well, I guess if it was a famous person, I’d know about him or her, but that’s different. I wouldn’t really know her. You’re probably thinking I just want to copycat Jared Loughner. Well, maybe I do. He is kind of my current hero. I mean, his mug shot, you know, the one with where he’s kind of looking up at the camera with that little smile and the wild eyes, fresh shaved head. He sort of went with the idea of a famous person, a congresswoman, but then he took out a whole bunch of others, too. He’ll be remembered for a while. Plus, he’s going to have a trial. That’ll put him in the news for years to come. I mean just look at Charles Manson. He still pops up once in a while. And he’s got it made – a lifetime of free meals and free medical care.

It’s not like I hate people. I don’t like them much, that’s all. And women, I guess you could say I’ve got a love/hate relationship with them. I’m always wishing I could find one that would, you know, hang out with me, but it just never seems to work out. I’m not going to do the dating thing. I can’t stand calling somebody and saying, like, you want to go out? Why can’t you just say what you mean? Hey, you want to do it with me? Ok, that is a little direct, but why can’t you say, “Hey, you think you might want to do it with me after a while?” No, you’ve got to go through that whole getting to know you thing, buy ‘em a meal, take ‘em to a movie, pretend to accidently touch their hand or their knee.  Screw that. So, I just do sex on the internet. Got a million women out there willing to take off their clothes and talk dirty to me. A lot of it’s free, too.

Hey, if anybody reads this, I just want you know I’m kidding. Really! It’s just idle thinking on a cloudy day. The sun will be out one of these days and I’ll feel better. Or maybe I’ll move to Arizona.