Gedankenwelt

You're different

TW!!: Rape, suicide, murder, selfharm

Disclaimer: I'm not trying to justify or even promote the main character's or anyone's actions in any way! I'm just trying to show major society problems (such as the group chats or the protection of the rapists) by putting them into a fictional story!!

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“What was this for?”, she whispered under her tears. “What did I do to deserve all this? Why did you choose me? Why did you have to do it to anyone at all?”

She tried to look into his eyes, tried to ignore what he just did because she wanted to focus on her questions. She wanted anwers - real, honest ones. She knew that, maybe, these answers will never satisfy her, maybe make things even worse. But she wanted to understand it. Or at least wanted to make him think about what he's done.

“Why not?”, he tries to argue, but she heard that he himself knew that this wasn’t the whole answer he had to her questions. 

“Because I’m a human. You are a human. You know how I must feel. You must have seen these videos of woman talking about rape and trauma coming with it. You can’t tell me you didn’t know how a woman would feel afterwards.”

He sighed and sat down. He stayed silence for a while, but she waited patiently. She couldn’t do anything else, anyway, seeing that she was trapped inside this room with this man.

“You’re the first one to ever actually ask me such questions”, he admits. “The first one? Does that mean I am not the first woman you brought here?”, she asked. He didn’t say anything, but his silence said more than any words. 

She stared at him, expecting him to start talking again. 

“There was this girl. She was in my class. Nobody ever really noticed her, except me. And I was lucky. She actually liked me back, and we eventually started dating. I thought we were a good couple, but she never wanted to do anything like… you know…”

For a rapist, he still had a surprisingly big feeling of shame.

“I wanted it, but I didn’t want to push her. But I guess I still did, because when she finally said she was ready to do it, she obviously wasn’t. I noticed it right when we started. But she was so careful, she even seemed scared. And I liked it. I liked the way she trusted me, the way she gave me the power to do whatever I wanted to do to her. I never meant to hurt her.

But she didn’t react well. She paniced - which I didn’t notice. I kept going, and I thought that she just gave up herself completely to me. 

Only weeks later, after we had done it a few times again, she told me about how she really felt. But by then, it’s been too late. I had fallen in love with the feeling of power, of controlling.

I didn’t let go of her. I manipulated her to stay in the realtionship so that I could have just a little bit more fun with her.

I told myself that one day she would understand it. That one day she would love it just as much as I did. That she would be thankful that I never gave up on her.

But that never happened. And so one day, I saw the cuts on her arms. She told me about how unhappy she was, that she tried to be perfect for me but felt like she could never meet my expectations because she was too weak.

I never told her that being weak was exactly how I wanted her to be. I did the right thing - probably for the last time in my life - and ended our relationship. I wanted her to get happy, because deep down, I still loved her. Her, not only her weakness and the power I had over her.”

He turned away, trying to hide the feelings that seemed to overwhelm him. “What happened then?”

“After she was gone, I had none I could control anymore. I hadn’t noticed how addicted I had become to this feeling of power. It started small. Making comments on girls and seeing that my actions caused reactions. Then it went on to small touches, a friendly kiss on a cheek, giving me part of the physical touch I craved just as much as the control over a weak girl.

But that little touches made my cravings even stronger. And so I started touching them closer to the inappropriate areas. They didn’t speak up. They knew they didn’t really have a chance. I was well-known at school, you know?”

She didn’t, but she could imagine it, judging by his looks. Probably some of the other girls even were jealous of the attention he gave his victims. 

“I ended up in a group chat, months after graduation. I don't even remember how I got there. The men - it were only men - texted about their fantasies, what they wanted to do to these little, innocent girls. And I felt kind of understood. They triggered my cravings, they talked me out of the bad conscience. They even told me which drugs could easily make a woman fall asleep fast without a high risk of killing her. They made up perfect plans. And then the videos started.

I guess every normal human would have been disgusted. But I loved what I saw. And I wanted to do it myself. 

That’s when I bought this place. And I started bringing women here. Some of them didn’t wake up before I brought them upstairs again. Some of them woke up while I was doing it, but they didn’t dare fighting back. Some of them woke up before I could start. Needless to say, I did it anyways. Just as I did with you.”

He didn’t sound guilty. He said it as facts, as if he was talking about the weather. She supposed this was the way he dealt with his bad conscience.

“But none of them ever asked me anything. They all went silent, or cried, or screamed. But you… you are so.. different.”

“I cried, too”, she reminded him. “I know, but you still asked me why. Nobody has ever done that. Nobody has ever tried to understand me.”

“You have to change something.”

“I know. But I can’t. And I can not ever let anybody know about what I've just told you. I guess you know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

He stood up, and with one smooth move, he lifted her up. “Let me down”, she ordered, her voice calm but clear. “I won’t”, he simply said. 

Then he carried her through a door into a dark room. A room neither of them ever left again.