This (Wild) Animal I Have Become

Opportunities: We all have them. We choose how to live, who to love and even if you want to love someone. Sometimes it’s better if we use those chances to take advantage at some point, but there comes a time when it’s greater if you reject them, that shows your strength, your courage to stop some addiction or your determination to become a person who knows how to take care on his own.

I got one of those opportunities and took it, of course, the consequences made an almost instant appearance; I became addicted to a ticket machine, mostly to its own side effects like meeting girls, sex, girlfriends, parties and, hell yeah, more sex. At least, I know I can stop this whenever I want. Just like smoking, even though I keep asking for #30’s cigars… But I will stop doing those things whenever I want.

Another problem I got is this weird confusion that invades me everyday when I walk near to the chalkboard I have in my bedroom. It’s really cool, I’ve saved all the tickets I’ve taken in the library and nailed them into that wood slate. #07 asked me about it the other day; I told him it was a collection. Can you believe it? A collection, I collect people, like objects that I can use when I need them. I’m a human-kleptomaniac, I steal lives and, some may not be aware that I have committed that theft, but she paid attention and #47 got rid of me.

Now, because of the weirdest dream I’ve ever dreamt, I decided to change my lifestyle this morning, but I came to this point: good people are boring and I’m the totally the opposite.

Tonight, I’m going to be awake until dawn, nothing that a couple of prayers cannot erase. I guess I’ll have to go to church next Sunday. I know that the word “Why?” is coming to your mind and the answer is easier than the question: I don’t want anything to ruin my day, so, I won’t talk (or fight and cry for forgiveness) to #47 until I would miss her really much. “So, who are you going to spend the night with?” you question again (damn, you’re too curious!) and I’ll reply that #97, the red hair girl who gives massages, is my date.

Maybe you remember I don’t love her, I bet you also know she thinks I’m her boyfriend. Well, as I told you a little while ago, I got human-kleptomania and chicks like these are indescribably indistinguishable from the first kind of “opportunities” I commented about at the beginning. Obviously she accepted when I asked her to go the fanciest restaurant in the city (yeah, the one where now lies a plastic extra leg).

It’s going to be a wonderful night full of relax and comfort, let’s bring the drama dose of the day: “Do you know what #07 exactly did to get caught in jail?” I rustled to #30 while the three of us were in the movie theater, watching a film that reminded me of the supposed man killed by my main dude’s cellmate.

“Shut up, dude. He’ll find out what we’re up to!” he reproached inclining his body to my seat, so our friend could not understand a single word. The woman in the back apparently heard everything and shouted us to do silence. Oh, lovely irony.

Anyway, I managed to explain with my hands we were going to talk about #07’s link to the guy from the ID I found at the gray-eyed girl’s house the other day.

The movie was almost perfect. It was funny, cool and had an interesting development. It was a little confusing though, just like me.

We went to the food court and #07 left us for ten minutes to talk to a hot girl who was giving small tickets to gain a discount at our favorite pizza place. So, #30 and I looked for a decent table, one in the big balcony seemed quite good, we could smoke and see the artificial waterfalls outside the colossal building. I really like them, their structure, how they are presented. It looks alike to real cascades. I wonder how much money they cost to the mall. Wait a second... Why do I care? Well, there’s an empty table we can use to eat and appreciate how the transparent liquid flows between little rocks specially positioned by expensive architects. I can cheat myself and pretend that I have no problems occasionally. Five, four or one minute, at least a few seconds watching the waterfalls and I’m out of this universe.

“Stop acting like you’re retarded, dude!” said #30 as paper ball made out of a napkin woke me up. With no #07 around, we could freely speak about him and we did. I had so many questions. Why did he go to jail if he claims innocence? If he didn’t kill the owner of the ID, does that makes #47 guilty? That would have sense, she had the ID. What if she murdered him and ran away after leaving proves that took my cellmate’s friend to prison? But, why would she want to slay that guy? What did he do to her?

“Maybe we should tell him about the ID”- I told to #30, who preferred not being involved. Damn curiosity. I need to know the truth- “But later, here he comes”.

#07 wasn’t as happy as we expected him to be after talking to the hot girl in the entrance. “I invited her to go out tonight but she just gave me her phone number” he said.

There’s not such thing as perfect happiness, there’s always something missing. No matter how many things we have, we are never complete. The day we had no more goals in life, we’ll be dead.

“Look at the cascade, #07. It’ll take your problems away” I affirmed as I moved my arms imitating waves. But I just made him laugh... Who would’ve known? I’m a possible killer’s waterfall.

We ate six combos together, the food was delicious and we laughed as never before, especially when #76 appeared. I introduced her to the guys as my biggest fan; she just giggled and blushed, as usual, she didn’t realize we were making fun of her enormous wart, her breast-less chest and, generally, her ugly body. Some say the inside is what matters, but they said that because they didn’t meet #76.

She went to the mall because I told her; I had some homework to do for the next day and, as I had a date with #97, it was impossible for me to make it. That’s where #76 does her amazing entrance. So, I gave her my notebook followed by a fake “Thank you very much, you’re great!” and she left smiling.

“I’m glad she’s finally gone!” said #30 stretching his arms up.

“Why?” asked my other friend.

“She is visually uncomfortable” he responded.

“A fancy synonymous to Ugliness” I added to finish the cruel joke as we all burst out laughing. Its official, if I don’t go to church this Sunday after telling this, I know I’m going straight to hell.

Where does that come from? Why do we need to feel greater than other people? What makes us destroy someone’s life? Is it to make our self-esteem grow higher? I remember I used to talk about those things with #21; I have days without seeing her… But I’d phone her tomorrow; I had to get ready for my date!

I borrowed #07’s car to pick my girl, it was very important to make sure that everything worked perfectly that night, I was dating a chick I didn’t really like and I wanted to try to love her. That would be a nice way to forget my sexy religious ex: the gray-eyed girl. I wish I could’ve been careful with her, #47 was unique.

Anyway, we arrived to the restaurant and I felt lucky to have #97 by my side, she looked pretty hot in that black dress. A waiter took us to the table I booked last week, however, I never expected what happened.

My girlfriend was sitting behind an apparently strong man; he was wearing a cool shirt and a silver watch, but that way of dressing was not what interrupted my peace. He was speaking to the gray-eyed girl and I could tell by the way she stared at me, how surprised and happy she was to attend to our destinies’ reunion.

The waiter gave us two menus and went back to his place near to the main doors; my girlfriend kept talking to me but I couldn’t take my eyes off #47 who was doing the same. Strangely, there was a sexual spirit between us, even when she never wanted it before. I had to do a sign.

“I’ll be back in a minute, baby. My bladder is suffering” I joked to #97 as I stood up. She laughed and agreed with me.

I walked straight to the men restroom; before entering, I threw a look back and caught the gray-eyed girl coming to meet me. Nobody saw us going inside together.

There were a few seconds of silence in that black place, but those were changed by apologizing comments from both of us. Then, I kissed her with passion, love and all my soul. I really missed her. I grabbed her from the ass to put her on the dry lavatory and, while I softly bite her lower lip, she asked me: “How much do you care for me?” I tried to give her a clear answer as I tasted her neck: “So much… I assure you… Anything or anyone could separate us”, I told her those last words gazing at her beautiful eyes.

“Really?” she added amazed.

“Yeah”, I replied. Then, I kissed her again and again. At that moment, my hands were starting to explore her virgin breasts.

“Now… listen… listen to me” she said while sweating. But I told her everything was fine, that I would block the door with a broom (which I did) and that we would break up with our couples, she just had to let the situation run and enjoy it.

“Before going further… Oh, God… I want to tell you that I love you as well… Oh, Lord… And I have a… Yeah, THAT”, she exclaimed scared.

Honestly, an 8 inch erect penis is not what you imagine to find out when you touch between a hot girl’s legs.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT, BITCH!? WHAT’S THAT!?” I yelled while I quickly walked backwards and hit a bathroom door with my back.

She tried to explain this whole new discovery; the only thing I did was throw up in the lavatory and taking her arms off me. There was no excuse for that. Why didn’t she tell me before!?

Opportunities: We all have them and I should’ve rejected the bible she or he gave me the day we met; I should’ve denied those gray eyes, those eyes that couldn’t avoid my angry fist. Yeah, I couldn’t hold the fury, but that just revealed the truth. At that instant, she had a brown crying iris in her face and I had a contact lens in one of my knuckles, then, everything turned so clear that I could smell reality: #47 was the man of the ID.

#07 got in jailed for a crime he didn’t commit. He had to know that his suppose victim was alive. This travesty deserved prison and even death!

“You do not have freaking idea of what expects for you, piece of crap” I said before cleaning my mouth and spiting a residue of vomit to the lavatory, leaving her/him weeping in the restroom floor.

I fixed my tie while I returned to my table. #97 asked me what took me so long. The lack of toilets was a good reason for her and immediately she noticed I was sick. We left the place, I wish we had gone to see a waterfall, but we didn’t. I took advantage of the opportunity to call #07 to tell him about everything while #97 got in the car. He was astounded and I was happy to be obliging.

What makes us destroy someone’s life? The desire of revenge may be the answer; also the need to recover our fallen status, but, most of the times, the real motive is to make our self-esteem grow higher.

If someone doesn’t want his or her life to be ruined, that someone should be careful of the words he uses, the way she looks at people or, merely, don’t mess with me. I’m not just a normal guy. I hope #47 rotes in jail, I really do.