Incelbordination, Chapter 21

The penultimate smack in the face for Oswald was being forced to go to therapy. The ultimate smack in the face was knowing it would affect his final grade in English if he didn’t. He must have read that email from Valerie Sand fifteen hundred times, but his fist-tightening anger didn’t subside any more than the first time. “Who the fuck does she think she is?” he wondered aloud as he swung his little feet in the computer chair. He took care not to pound his fists, for they were still healing slowly. He took one last look at his bruised knuckles and wondered when he would be able to punch the “Sand bag” again. “Therapy…I don’t fucking need therapy!” he huffed as he got dressed and exited the dorm.

The little guy still wore his medical boot and still had a modicum of pain shoot throughout his foot with each step, but the wincing and limping were minor prices to pay for his recovery. At least the therapist’s office wouldn’t be too far from here. But even so, it was still his longest trek due to how many people around him still had those ghostly expressions. Maybe they needed therapy too. Maybe they were already going to therapy and it didn’t do diddly-squat. Did they have their grades depend on this too or was Oswald the odd man out?

Oswald didn’t want to admit it at first, but when he first arrived at the therapist’s office, he was already comforted by the atmosphere around him. Harp music to relax his ears, receptionists talking in their best ASMR voices, paintings on the wall of gorgeous pink sunsets, and not one stereotypical “cray-cray” person sitting in the waiting room. “Good morning! How can I help you?” asked one of the receptionists with her sweetest smile.

“My name is Oswald Crow. I was told to come here by my English teacher Valerie Sand. She might have already scheduled an appointment for me, but I’m not sure.” Oswald just then figured out how much venom was oozing from his mouth as he spoke those words. It must have been like talking to a spitting cobra for this poor young lady behind the desk.

Nonetheless, she typed away at her computer and never once lost her gentle disposition. “Okay, Oswald, I’ll let Dr. Jealous know you’re here. Take a seat in the waiting room anywhere you like.”

“Thank you.” The waiting area wasn’t exactly packed to the brim with traumatized patients, but even so it was hard for Oswald to pick a seat without getting in someone’s personal space. This was his strategy all throughout high school and college: pick a seat completely isolated from the rest of the group. He could’ve sat next to the cute chick texting on her phone. He could’ve sat next to the fat guy in the Star Wars T-shirt enjoying a bag of Doritos. He could’ve sat next to the middle aged lady gazing languidly into the distance. So few options, yet he had to choose. Or did he?

“Oswald Crow?” said a gentle feminine voice, which caused the little guy to jump a little bit before clutching his pumping chest. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Kristen Jealous. I’ll be your therapist today.” She and Oswald shook hands. “Follow me into my office.”

Oswald couldn’t help but wonder why this lovely woman wasn’t wearing shoes. In fact, the sweat pants and Mickey Mouse sweatshirt didn’t exactly scream therapist from the mountaintop. Something was fishy about this whole setup and it all became clear once Oswald noticed a bed in the center of the room instead of a stereotypical leather couch. “What’s going on here?”

“Well, when Ms. Sand made your therapy appointment for you, she figured you could use this specific kind of treatment. Our session is going to last two hours and it’s going to be cuddle therapy.”

“C…cuddle therapy?”

Placing her soft hand on Oswald’s shoulder, Kristen said, “Yes. We’re going to cuddle for two hours and try to get you to open up. There’s one ground rule before we begin. This is a nonsexual activity, so any perverted comments or actions will result in the termination of this session. By that same token, the whole purpose of this treatment is to make you as comfortable as possible. If you don’t like something I’m doing, please let me know.”

“…C….C…Cuddle therapy?”

Kristen gave a closed-mouth giggle and said, “Don’t worry about a thing, Oswald. I’ll take good care of you. I know you’re nervous, but you don’t have to be. I promise you that this will be one hundred-percent safe. When we’re done, you’ll be nice and relaxed.”

“…O…Okay, um…”

Gently squeezing the back of his neck, Kristen said, “Do whatever you have to do to get comfortable and I’ll be waiting for you on the bed.” With a few more pats of the little guy’s shoulders, Dr. Jealous plopped down on the bed and patted Oswald’s half of the mattress.

Taking a few deep breaths, Oswald removed his T-shirt and footwear before hobbling to his side of the bed. He surprised himself by how easy it was to pull his body up without assistance. Maybe he was healing nicely after all. He rolled on his side with his back facing Dr. Jealous while the longhaired therapist pressed her body against his and ran her fingernails through his now spiked hair.

Any nervousness about this process and any ill will Oswald had towards Valerie Sand melted away when the tingling sensations ran through his scalp. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, already sinking into the bed.

“See? There’s nothing wrong with clean physical contact,” said Kristen while squeezing Oswald’s shoulders and spine. “Now, do you know why you’re here today?”

“Because my English teacher thinks I’m a fruitcake?”

“Couldn’t be further from the truth. Besides, I don’t like to use that word to describe my patients. It’s very derogatory.”

Oswald’s face reddened when he said, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I can understand your frustration. Your teacher tells me that you have a hard time letting people into your life, that you struggle with loneliness, that your loving needs aren’t being met.”

“Am I that obvious?” asked Oswald in a progressively relaxed voice. “People don’t like to be around me because of who I am and what I look like. They think I’m some kind of circus sideshow. I’ve even heard stories about drunken frat boys throwing my kind across bar counters for fun and games. I’m angry, Dr. Jealous. I don’t let people in because they’ll just stab me in the fucking heart.”

Transitioning into a waist hug, Kristen said, “While I do admit there are some guys in this world who think that way about people with dwarfism, it’s not the whole population. Most people are good to each other. Most people would look at someone like you and smile their friendliest smile. You might have to go out of your way to find these kindred spirits, but they exist and they’re waiting for you.”

“I’ve only found a handful of people on campus who fit that bill. Even then they don’t have any qualms about leaving my life and letting me rot.” A single tear rolled down Oswald’s face and Kristen wiped it away with her finger before working on his shoulders again.

“They leave your life because you don’t pursue them. Truth is, they’re probably hurting just as badly as you are. They don’t make the first move because they’re the ones who’re afraid of rejection, not you. I’ve had many patients come and go who had the exact same attitude towards social situations as you. They yearn for love of some kind, but they don’t pursue it because they’re afraid of getting their hearts broken.”

“They’re right to feel that way.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t feel that way about you,” said Kristen while resting her head against Oswald’s shoulder. “I know it’s my job to make my patients feel good about themselves, but I wouldn’t have this job in the first place if I didn’t feel some sort of empathy towards my clients. That’s kind of a requirement.”

Oswald smiled. “True.”

“You know…on the day you’re able to find a girlfriend, she’s going to want to cuddle with you a lot. She might even call you her little teddy bear. It’s not a knock against your dwarfism. It’s a celebration of cuteness.”

Oswald’s face glowed like a nuclear rod as he did his best to hide his smile.

Dr. Jealous continued, “I really do believe there’s somebody out there for you. Someone who you can share opinions with. Someone you can share moments with. It doesn’t even have to be someone romantic. It could just be a friend who cares about you. Friends can engage in physical contact too. That’s what I want you to think of me as: your friend. You can tell me anything you want.”

“…Anything?”

“Anything you want.”

Oswald didn’t even know where to begin. So many thoughts swirling his head and this was his one opportunity to get it all off his chest. It took him a while to come up with a launching point, but when he did, another tear rolled down his cheek. “I almost became an incel.”

“You what?”

Holding his thumb and forefinger together, he said, “I was this close to joining Incelbordination. I was lonely and scared. I didn’t think anybody in this world wanted me, so it only felt right to be a part of this. I wanted to hurt the world so badly. I wanted them to feel my pain and my agony. But…I didn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. And now I have nothing to show for it.”

Wiping away more of Oswald’s tears with her fingers, Kristen said, “You do have something to show for it: wisdom. You’ve seen the worst side of humanity and you didn’t give in. You almost did as you’ve just said, but you overcame that. That alone takes courage. You’re a hero, Oswald. You can inspire people in a positive way if you so chose.”

“How? Nobody will listen to me and anybody that does just thinks of me as a walking C+.”

“C+ or no C+, you’re still going to graduate from this place one day. And when you do, all the pain and suffering will be worth it. College can oftentimes be a depressing experience, but for you, it can be an opportunity to grow into something greater than yourself. Your teachers don’t care about the grades you get as much as they care about the person you become once you leave their classrooms.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“Doubt is a natural emotion, but not if it gets in the way of your greatest ambitions. I want you to be happy, Oswald. I want you to make friends, make love, and be the sweetest teddy bear you can be.”

Oswald’s tears turned into a full-on crying session and Kristen Jealous was there to hold him every step of the way. Scratching his back, rubbing his shoulders, playing with his hair, these things made crying a comfortable part of the process. For the first time in forever, the little guy felt secure. He felt loved. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of this room despite the fact that the session was only two hours long. “Why does this have to last for only two hours?” he sobbed aloud.

“Because I have other clients to see who need my help just as much as you do. Otherwise…I’d cuddle you for as long as you needed it. This doesn’t have to be our last session. In fact, I hope to see more of you in the future…you little teddy bear.”

“I love you.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Sorry…I’m really sorry about that.”

“Wasn’t the first time somebody told me that by accident. Won’t be the last either. You’re safe in my arms, Oswald. Cry as much as you want. Heal as much as you need to.”

The rest of the two hour session was spent doing those things: crying and healing. And it felt good to do that after so many years of loneliness and isolation.

Incelbordination, Chapter 18

Oswald Crow didn’t sign up for college just so he could sleep through the whole thing. He didn’t lose his parents to a drunk driver pretending to be a born-again Christian so that he could run into another fruit basket with the macho name Antero Magnus. College was supposed to be a learning experience, yet he saw his teachers not as mentors, but as obstacles. Maybe there was some truth to what Valerie Sand had been saying to him this whole time. Maybe she shouldn’t have had a piece of gym equipment named after her. Maybe…just maybe he really was loved in this world.

Rather than reflect on his many nights spent in the hospital (where his toes were surgically reattached and his ribs were held in place with Canisteo tape), Oswald wanted to go right back to work on his homework assignments. No misogynist criminals were going to hinder his process. No lack of marijuana was going to cloud his mind. It was do or die for the dwarf and he wanted to graduate as soon as possible. Summer was almost upon him. He needed to fix that C- paper. With a little more life experience under his belt and some hardcore Googling, his aching fingers danced across the keyboard to produce something he could actually smile about, even if only sadly.

He emailed the corrected paper to Valerie and sat in his computer chair staring at the medical boot on his surgically repaired foot. “Goddamn, that’s going to cost me,” he said. “Where the fuck is all this money supposed to come from?” Even successful authors needed extra employment every now and then. Oswald couldn’t picture himself sweeping popcorn off of movie theater floors or dipping frozen fries in boiling oil. Then again, he knew he had to start somewhere. The bottom of the ladder would be a welcome place if he could ever find it. He had weeks to think about it since graduation was on the horizon.

As Oswald trudged across campus with his medical boot and his cumbersome trench coat, he couldn’t help but notice the ghostly faces of everyone around him. No doubt that trauma was tearing them apart from the inside. “Goddamn you, Antero,” the dwarf said to himself. Even he felt like a wraith haunting the college grounds. One minute he was a hero and the next he was a part of this graveyard-like background. These people couldn’t cheer for him because they didn’t have the psychological energy to. As much as depression tried to tell him otherwise, he wanted to be understanding rather than dismissive of their “ignorance”.

The glass door from Valerie’s classroom was still in shambles, but the inside had improved quite a bit since Oswald was last here playing the role of hero. New desks were brought in. Wheeled chairs from the computer lab were also part of the furniture. There was even one lucky lady who got to sit in a fuzzy recliner chair. That lucky lady was none other than Nikita Johnson, whose black eye healed quite nicely over the past few days. She still had golden patches here and there and she tucked her chin to show her psychological frustration, but she was otherwise okay. Oswald wanted to take a seat next to her and tell her it would be alright, but ultimately left well enough alone when he sat in the back like he always did.

Valerie Sand stood at the head of the classroom also with her chin tucked, but was the only one brave enough to speak first. “Good morning, class. I know I don’t say this often enough, but thank you all for being here today. It’s been a bad few weeks as you can tell from the smashed door and whatnot. Some of our classmates couldn’t make it here today, either because of their traumatic experiences or because they’re no longer among the living. For those of you who were fortunate enough to live through these terrorist attacks, I have three words for you: life goes on.”

She wrote those words on the chalkboard and underlined them for extra emphasis. “It never ceases to amaze me what kinds of events bring people together. It could be music. It could be comedy. It could be theater. But in this case, as sad as it may seem, it took a war to bring us together. It’s because of our collective strength that we can truly say life goes on. We give each other the strength to push forward. We cannot divide each other at a time like this. Yes, Antero Magnus is finally behind bars. Yes, this is the first terrorist attack we’ve had on campus and we were wildly unprepared for it. But life goes on. It went on after 9/11. It went on after the various school shootings that took place around the country. Life goes on because we refuse to let negativity reign supreme. We are here for each other.”

Pointing her finger around the classroom, she said, “Each and every one of you.” She then looked Oswald dead in the eyes, “You included, Mr. Crow…you are all loved. If you have to find that love in the comfort of strangers, so be it. But it is there if you look for it. Help awaits you if you want it. It’s never too late to take care of yourself and each other. Look around you, ladies and gentlemen. These people are your friends. They’re your secondary family. Antero Magnus and the rest of Incelbordination failed to see that and they paid the price for it. Could they have been helped? It’s a debatable point, but I’d like to think we’re all capable of being helped at one point or another. I want to see the good in everyone. I want to believe that Antero wasn’t always a psychotic murderer. Something inside him snapped and he became this monster we know today. Don’t ever stray from the path of love. It’s never worth the pain.”

The entire classroom’s eyes, Valerie’s included, welled up with tears, but no sobbing took place. She thanked her students and they all applauded for her, including Oswald even though he still had sore hands. Making sure his teacher’s words were appreciated was more important than minor physical pain.

Once the clapping died down, Valerie said, “And because life goes on, it just so happens that I have your papers graded. I see a lot of improvements among you, some more than others, but then again, this is not a contest where the best grade wins. All that matters to me is that you’ve learned something from being in my class. I don’t care what grades you get after college is over. I’m more concerned with what kind of people you all will become. And that, my friends, is the biggest improvement of all.”

Oswald couldn’t help but give a sad smile at that sentiment. There was hope for him after all. There was hope for this world. There was hope for the future. The difficulty of believing his elders had finally been lifted from the dwarf’s shoulders. Valerie passed the corrected papers back to all of her students and of course, because Oswald sat in the back, he got his last. His anxiety bubbled up just a little bit, but it was more like a cup of tea rather than a raging lava pit. What he wouldn’t give for a cup of tea right at this moment. Such a relaxing thing to drink on a ghostly day like today. Maybe it would help his mental illnesses if only for a little bit.

The good news for Oswald was that upon receiving his paper, he was no longer a bastardized C- student. Instead that minus sign had a slash through the middle and his sad smile turned into a look of despair. He went from a C- to a C+ after Valerie just gave a speech about how everybody improved so much. Oswald’s inner voices told him to just tear the paper in half and toss it in the garbage, maybe spit some mucous onto it first…or piss on it right in front of the rest of the class.

But he did none of those things because he knew such reactions would prove nothing to a teacher who already made up her mind about him. Oswald felt no need to alienate himself further from his peers, so he quietly tucked the C+ paper into his backpack and maintained a stoic expression. If what Valerie said was true, then the C+ would be nothing compared to the feeling of becoming a new person. But was it true? Did Oswald really learn anything from being wrapped around Antero’s finger this whole time?

While Oswald’s mind didn’t race nearly as hard is it normally did after receiving a bad grade, he did find it hard to concentrate on that day’s lecture. He still didn’t participate in the conversation, but then again, not a lot of students did that day. This wasn’t just candles burning at both ends. This terrorist attack truly did take its toll on the student body. But life goes on as Valerie wisely said. Life goes on…

By the time Oswald could gather his wits together, Valerie was already dismissing her class. One-by-one they filed out of the room, but the dwarf just sat in his desk in silence. The teacher said his name several times, but didn’t get his attention with a sharp tone this time around. Instead she told him, “It’s good to have you back, Mr. Crow. This place isn’t the same without you.”

All the dwarf could do about that was nod like a bobble-head and gingerly leave the classroom. The garbage bin was right there. He could rebel against the system once again if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He walked right passed the teacher and her bin and gazed into the pink clouds, which looked lovely in an environment where the student body were paranoid and peaceful at the same time.

Incelbordination, Chapter 15

“Hello? Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone home?” Oswald sang to the dark wall in front of him. He hadn’t a single clue how much time had past since his incarceration. He could feel his brain popping like popcorn. He could feel his soul exiting through his mouth as he sang Pink Floyd lyrics. Any smile he had that day could be chalked up to mind-numbing insanity. It didn’t even occur to him to call for help even though nobody would answer him. It occurred to him even less to pound on the walls. His stomach growled in a leonine voice, but all he could hear were the echoes of a distant time come willowing across the sand.

And then his one-man show was finally interrupted by the opening of his cell door, keys jangling in the lock and all. The intense light flooded the room and burned Oswald’s retinas so badly that he cowered in the corner shielding his face. All he could see past his fingers was the silhouette of a trench coat-wearing female. It was nothing like the kind of coat Antero regularly wore to keep up his Matrix gimmick. This was professional-looking. And the woman’s voice was nothing short of professional-sounding.

“Bad few days, huh, Mr. Crow?” said Detective Mia Barry, whose face came into plain view once the light had dimmed a little.

Through a withering voice, Oswald asked, “What do you want from me this time?”

“I have some good news for you, Oz-Man.”

“You saved a bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Geico?”

Mia giggled. “No, not that, although they do have nice customer service. I’m talking about good news as it relates to your charges.”

Oswald lowered his hands as his red eyes adjusted to the darkening light. “I’m listening.”

“Our tech guys scoured your computer and sifted through further evidence. There’s no proof you were ever involved with Incelbordination. From the looks of things, you couldn’t get out of that chat room fast enough.”

“W…wait a minute…you mean…what I did at the warehouse? That’s been cleared up too?”

Folding her arms and leaning against the cell door, Mia explained, “Three witnesses put you at that scene. Well, only two if you’re not counting that meathead Wacey Judge. Miss Sand and Miss Johnson put in a good word for you. They said you were argumentative, but otherwise safe to be around. You should thank those two, you know. They stuck their necks out for you. They wouldn’t do that if they thought you were a terrorist.”

Oswald could finally open his eyes to full capacity in expression of disbelief. “Those three…they’re alive?”

“Actually, we performed some necromancy on them and asked them the hard-hitting questions once they were properly summoned. Of course they’re alive, silly!”

A slowly forming smile crept upon Oswald’s face. “Does that mean…you finally got Antero?!”

Scratching her nose, Mia said, “Actually, that’s where the bad news begins. Antero Magnus is still out there somewhere. He and his incel buddies bailed on us at the last minute. Of course, you wouldn’t know that, because you got knocked the fuck out before we got there. You’ve still got a knot on your forehead from whatever Antero did to you.”

Oswald winced in pain as he prodded the fresh bruise on his forehead.

“Are you ready to hear the other half of the good news or do you want to poke your forehead some more?” Oswald excitedly nodded and Mia was happy to present the news after clearing her throat. “It turns out you do have a legal prescription for your marijuana use. The only reason why it was so hard to obtain was because you used your monthly dosage too soon. Just how much of that shit have you been puffing on at once?”

On account of being kneed in the face by Antero, Oswald actually had to think his absolute hardest to find out. He had been puffing every day like a diesel train without a thought of consequence. He puffed whenever he was nervous. He puffed because he could. He puffed whenever his favorite song came on his play list. Puff, puff, puff, nonstop, twenty-four-seven. No wonder his trench coat always smelled awful. He damned himself when he said, “Stupid!” and would have face-palmed if that bruise wasn’t jutting out so far.

“Yeah, you need to be more careful with your medication, Oz-Man. It’s not supposed to be for recreational use.”

“Well yeah, it makes sense now! I…just have one more question and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“You can ask as many questions as you want, Oswald. This isn’t an interrogation. Besides, I kind of owe you that luxury after you’ve spent so much time in here for nothing. This would actually be a good time for your marijuana usage.”

Oswald sighed and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes. “Whatever happened to Jessica? Is she going to be alright?” Mia’s face softened at the mention of her name. “What? What’s going on?”

“You must be referring to Jessica Bradley, the teenage prostitute we stuck you with. Yeah, she, uh…” Mia scratched the back of her neck in search of the right way to say what she needed to say. She sighed and finally spit it out. “She hung herself the night Antero took you away. We tried CPR, but she didn’t make it. I’m sorry, Oswald. She’s dead.”

The dwarf buried his face in his hands and let the tears sting his already burning eyes. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach. His posture hunched over to where his neck ached. He even shouted, “Fuck!” as he pounded the wall behind him, aggravating his fist injuries even further. “Fucking hell!” he groaned while massaging his hand.

“Fourteen years old, Oswald. Even with prostitution on her record, she had her whole life ahead of her. She must have had some tough demons to face beforehand. Come to think of it, you’ve probably got some demons of your own to face. I would advise you to seek psychological help once you’re free. We don’t need another suicide, especially when you yourself have your whole life ahead of you as well.”

The dwarf gasped hard in between sobs. “Everything…I touch…turns to shit!”

“You see that? You see?!” Mia snapped, her following words growing more erratic as she pointed her finger. “That’s the reason why you need help! You are not a horrible person! You are not an incel terrorist! You are not a drug addict! You’re a human fucking being! If you kill yourself like Jessica did, you will have wasted your freedom and wasted an opportunity to set things right! Is that what you want?!”

“I just…I just want…” Oswald snorted snot up his nose and wiped the rest away with his sleeve. “I just want things to make sense, that’s all.”

Mia nodded and softened her tone. “I guess that’s something we all want, don’t we? But if you don’t seek help, nothing will ever make sense again. I know therapy is expensive, but it’s worth every penny. Oswald, I don’t want to watch you die in front of me. You’re innocent. You’ve been proven innocent by someone who’s waiting for you in the parking lot right now. She wants to give you a ride back to your dorm. She’s also the reason why we found your prescription in the first place. Come on, let’s go meet her.”

The detective approached Oswald and helped the sobbing dwarf to his feet. The two of them held hands together as they walked out of the police station. He knew she was just being a comfort to him, but handholding actually felt good for what it was. It didn’t have to be lovey-dovey. The kind gesture should have been appreciated and it was. I could never be an incel, thought Oswald as the last of his tears dried up on his sleeve.

After Oswald received his belongings (sans pot), Mia held the door open for him and said, “Have a good evening, little man. Get some sleep. You need it.”

His eyes lit up behind glassy vision when he saw a familiar woman standing next to her car with her arms folded. “No way,” said Oswald. It was true. She too had been through a lot. She too had watery pupils. She too had a bruise on her face, though hers was swollen over one eye.

“Come on, little dude. Let’s get you home,” said Nikita Johnson as she opened the passenger door and offered to help Oswald inside.

Incelbordination, Chapter 13

Oswald had no earthly clue how much time he spent underneath the hood. He could have fallen asleep for all he knew. He could have had more concussed visions. But when the hood was removed, a dot matrix danced across his field of vision while his weary eyes adjusted to the light. He even took deep breaths just to make sure he was still alive. But just because he was alive, didn’t mean he wasn’t already in some kind of hell. Except Antero Magnus didn’t call it hell. He just called it a “favorite hideout”.

The dim lighting revealed a broken down abandoned warehouse with crates stacked as high as the eye could see, warped wood all around, and the most important feature, three chair bound human beings with hoods over their heads. No matter how vigorously the captives struggled, their ropes only seemed to get tighter. Moderating this kidnapping was Antero Magnus himself, drumming his fingers across the back of the middle captive’s chair. “Leave us. Don’t get caught,” he told his henchmen, who were happy to oblige.

Oswald’s bloodshot eyes still pounded in his skull as they adjusted, but his vision was clear enough to take in the horror of Antero gazing at him with those ice-cold cyan eyes. “What do you want this time? You do realize that the police are probably looking for you…”

Antero put a finger to his own lips and shushed his “buddy”. “Relax, Oz-Man. Nobody’s coming to rescue you or these three jack-offs I have here. Remember how I told you we don’t use the same meeting place twice?”

“What do you want from me?”

“I’m glad you asked that, Oswald, I really am. As one of my boys told you prior to busting you out of jail (you’re welcome, by the way), you have a decision to make. Do you want to let this world walk all over you or do you want to stand up for yourself?” Oswald tried to speak, but was once again cut off by Antero. “Ah, ah, ah! Before you answer that, allow me to reveal the people who will have a strong influence on your decision. Three people who don’t know what love is, yet they somehow believe they’re actually closer to you than a stranger.”

Antero proceeded to remove the hoods from his captives. On the far left, the blubbering muscle jock Wacey Judge, who didn’t look so tough with his mile long sad face. In the middle, there was Valerie Sand, who like her counterpart had a hard time keeping it together. And then on the right, Nikita Johnson, who was sporting a black eye not unlike the one Jessica had earlier in the evening. Oswald didn’t know whether to look at these three people in disgust, fear, or disturbance. His mind swirled for more reasons than having a fucked up brain.

“You see these three normies?” said Antero as he spread his arms out for display purposes. “Their lives are in your hands, Oswald. You can’t see it right now because the warehouse is so damn dark, but underneath their chairs are trap doors which will lead them to a cold, watery death. The chains attached to these trap doors are by your feet. If you so choose, you can pull those chains and finally stand up for what you believe in.”

“…You’re insane!” whined Oswald.

“No, little man, you’re insane!” snapped Wacey. “You think you have the right to kill me because of some friendly ribbing? Come on, man, that’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Friendly ribbing, my ass!” shouted Oswald, his hand firmly on Wacey’s trap door chain. “You’re the whole reason why I needed to learn how to fight in the first fucking place! Do you have any idea how close you came to killing my ass?! It’s too late for apologies, you meathead! Time to die!”

“No, stop!” pleaded Valerie. “Oswald, think about what you’re doing here. Look, I don’t condone what Wacey did to you. But if you kill him, there’s no turning back from that. The police will find you and lock you up for life. You’ll never have the chance to be the successful writer you’ve always wanted to be.”

“I wasn’t going to be a successful writer anyways, you little shit!” belted the dwarf, dropping Wacey’s chain and picking up Valerie’s. “Ever since I’ve signed up for college, you’ve done nothing but hold me back. I’d be lucky to graduate at all under your tutelage. You don’t see greatness in me. You don’t see greatness in any of your students, for that matter. We’re all just one big shit puddle of mediocrity to you! “

“That’s not true, Oswald!” cried Nikita, who then winced in pain from her fresh black eye. “She gives you those critiques because she wants you to be the best you can possibly be. I know this because I’ve gotten harsh critiques too. If I’m not immune to it, why should you be? Are you really going to kill your teacher over a bad grade?”

Oswald dropped Valerie’s chain and wasted no time in gathering Nikita’s slack. “No, I’m not going to kill my teacher. I’ll kill you instead! Here I thought Valerie was holding me back when it was you who turned me in to the police in the first fucking place. All for what? Because I don’t conform to your idea of what it means to be healthy? Newsflash, bitch! I’m not healthy. I’m sick! I’m so fucking sick of this goddamn world!”

“Yes! That’s what I like to see,” exclaimed Antero while throwing his hands in the air. “Passion! Energy! Emotion! Oh, this is better than going to the movies. Go ahead, Oz-Man, pull those motherfucking chains and prove your loyalty to Incelbordination!”

“Yeah, man, what are you waiting for?” blubbered Wacey. “Quit making us wait and kill us already. It’s not like we’re ever going to get out of here alive anyways.”

“Damn it, Wacey, shut the fuck up!” roared Nikita, putting the muscle jock in his place. She turned her attention back to Oswald with tears mounting in her swollen eyes, a sight the dwarf couldn’t help but feel for. “Listen to me, please. I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but I want you to know that…you are loved.”

“Oh please, spare me the bullshit!” yelled Antero while slapping Nikita upside the head.

“Shut up and keep your hands off of her, Antero!” snapped Oswald. “I want to hear what she has to say.”

“You heard the man,” mocked Antero. “Or should I say manlet. Go ahead, Nikita Johnsonville Brats, let’s see if you can talk yourself out of this shit.”

With all eyes on her, she took her time to catch her breath and steady her tears. She even formed a warm smile for Oswald as she spoke, to let him know her feelings were genuine. “Oswald, someone out there loves you for who you are. It doesn’t even have to be romantic love. It could just be a loving friendship. If you put yourself out there, someone will find you. This world is only a bad place if you make it that way. And it’s an even worse place if you let people like Antero tell you it is.”

Folding his arms impatiently, Antero sarcastically asked, “Are you done yet, princess? Good, then shut the fuck up and prepare to die. Go ahead, Oz-Man, pull the chains and let’s get the fuck out of here. We’ll grab a bite to eat at McDonald’s afterwards, maybe catch us some underage pussy.”

When Oswald furrowed his brows and lifted all three chains, the captives yelped in horror and cried once again. Valerie mouthed the word “please” over and over again in a last ditch effort for her life to be spared. Wacey tucked his chin either in shame or because he was too “manly” to let a midget see him cry. Nikita once again smiled warmly at Oswald as if she meant everything she said.

Three “strangers” whose lives were in his hands. One tug of the chains could put an end to his misery. Revenge could taste as sweet as cherry pie all over again. Antero was practically salivating at the idea of finally converting Oswald to his side. But in the end, the dwarf had no choice but to drop the chains and curl into a ball to cry his own eyes out. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, guys!” he sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore! I want to be loved! I want people to care about me!”

All three captives breathed a sigh of relief while Antero shook his head and slowly approached the dwarf. The Finnish-Swede terrorist knelt beside Oswald and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “There, there, little guy. It’s okay. I understand if you can’t do it.”

Oswald lifted his face and gave a small smile of his own. “Really? You mean it?”

“Nah, I’m just kidding. You’re a puss-bag,” said Antero before kneeing the dwarf in the forehead and sending him instantly into dreamland. From there a cacophony of noises swirled in Oswald’s brain. He couldn’t decipher whether or not they were the captives’ screams, police sirens, or just a bunch of bullshit from his head injuries. If this was the day he would die, he could die knowing at least one person in this world loved him.

Incelbordination, Chapter 10

Oswald floated through the sunlit air as a familiar feminine voice whispered to him. “Come closer, my love. Come closer.” The little guy half-closed his eyes in anticipation of the seduction. The closer he floated towards this voice, the brighter the sunlight became. Whoever was sending these vibes had the radiance of an angel. And then Oswald could see a pair of plump red lips calling for him and making kissing noises to further tempt him. He puckered his own marijuana-scented lips and prepared for the love-making session he desperately desired.

And then the little guy opened his eyes and saw those red lips were hiding a serpentine tongue and elongated fangs dripping with poison. Oswald’s heart thumped in his chest and his eyes widened upon learning this face belonged to Antero Magnus, whose cyan eyes rolled so far back in his head that redness became horrifyingly apparent. “Give me a kiss, lover boy!” slithered Antero before taking a massive bite out of his former protégé’s skull. Oswald’s brains oozed out of the bite marks while his skull cracked in half, rendering him lifeless in an instant.

“Oswald, wake up!” shouted a more genuine female voice and the dwarf snapped awake while inhaling a raspy breath. Sitting up in his bed and soaked to the bone with sweat, he noticed he was back in his dorm room just like Nikita Johnson promised. Low and behold, there she was standing over his exhausted body with wetness in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. “You looked like you were having a nightmare.”

The little person wiped the blurriness out of his eyes and said, “I did have a nightmare. A bunch of virgins in masks came and beat the shit out of everyone at school. Wait a minute. That was just a nightmare, right?”

“I’m afraid not, Oswald. Our college really was attacked. It’s all over the media. I was watching GNN on my phone.” The dwarf tried to crawl out of bed, but Nikita placed a hand in front of him to keep him from doing so. “Don’t, Oswald. You’re hurt. Just lay there for a few more minutes.”

Oswald face-palmed and whispered, “Goddamn you, Antero.”

“What did you just say?”

“Um…I, uh…oh, no…”

Nikita folded her arms and asked, “How do you know who Antero Magnus is?”

“How do YOU know him?”

Nikita sighed and sat down on the bed next to her rescuer’s feet. She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger before finally satisfying Oswald’s curiosity. “He’s in one of my classes. I’m double majoring in English and political science and apparently he’s majoring in political science too. Every single time he’d share one of his papers with the class…he…” She wiped a tear from her eye. “He just sounded so entitled. He felt like the world owed him sex. He was incredibly sexist on so many levels. I don’t think he’d even be happy if he found a relationship. He’d just continue the cycle of hatred. And the worst part about this is….my professor is too scared to challenge him because he thinks Antero will snap.”

“That definitely sounds like something he’d do,” said Oswald absentmindedly before backpedaling with a series of “um’s” and “uh’s”.

“Are you hiding something from me? How do you know Antero? Please be honest.” No answer. Just a nervous stare from the little guy. “Oswald, if you know something about Antero, you need to tell me. You heard those masked guys yelling things like Love Is Black and muttering shit about Chads and Stacys. If Antero really is behind all of that, you need to tell the police. That’s information they need.” Still no answer. “Oswald, what’s going on?!”

The dwarf sighed and plopped his head back on the pillow. “Antero tried to get me to join his group. He calls it Incelbordination or some shit like that.”

“You didn’t actually join them, did you?” asked Nikita with a shaky voice. “Oswald, if I find out you’re mixed up in this sexist crap, I’m going to…”

“I turned them down!” A long beat of uncomfortable silence hung between them. “I saw what those people are capable of. I’ve been to one of their chat rooms. The shit they talked about…it was disgusting. They joked about murdering and raping women. Although, it turned out not to be much of a joke, did it.”

“You need to go to the police and tell them everything you know.”

“…I’m sorry, Nikita, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Another beat of silence built a wall between them until Nikita’s eyes widened at something that appeared to be in Oswald’s coat, which he still wore in bed. She reached inside despite the dwarf swatting at her hands and pulled out several ready rolls. “Oh my god…this is why? You’re afraid the police are going to find these?”

Holding up his hands defensively, Oswald explained, “Look, I have a prescription for those, okay? I’ve got a severe case of depression and pot is the only thing that’s working.”

“Are you sure it’s working?” asked Nikita rhetorically. “Because I’ve heard your love stories in Valerie’s class. I’ve heard your poetry. Whatever’s wrong with you, these rolls aren’t doing the trick.”

“Sometimes they take a while to kick in!” snapped Oswald. “Then again, sometimes there isn’t a cure for what’s going on in real life!”

“If you’re not going to report Antero to the police, then I will. I’ll even put in a good word for you with the cops!”

“You can’t do that, Nikita! You can’t force your straightedge crap on the whole fucking world! It doesn’t work like that! I need that marijuana just to get me through the day unscathed! It’s not my fault everybody else wants to be a prick and fuck up my therapy!”

Nikita’s face transformed from desperate tears to passionate anger at the “straightedge crap” talking point. “Just so you know, I do have a dog in this fight when it comes to drugs and alcohol. My dad smoked all the weed he could find and on top of that drank every bottle of booze within a ten mile fucking radius. He did all of this when I was just a little girl. He’d come home from work smelling like he’d just bathed in raw sewage. And then late at night he went for a drive…” She wiped a way another tear and sniffled. “He never came home. Crashed into the river and drowned. I blame him for everything, but I blame the drugs he took even more.”

Oswald sighed and face-palmed once again. “I’m sorry for your loss, Nikita. Trust me, I know how that feels.”

“Then why are you smoking this shit to begin with?!” screamed Nikita, causing her target to pull the covers halfway over his face. “If you know how it feels, then why are you repeating this garbage?! This stuff isn’t curing you. It’s making you into a monster. You want proof? You’re worried that the cops are going to find this on you when you throw Antero under the bus. Well…I don’t have to worry about that because I’m not stupid enough to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.”

“Nikita…please give those back to me.”

“Not a chance, Oswald. I’m not going to let you fuck over this entire school after what they went through!”

“Why, you little!” grunted the dwarf as he attempted to roll out of bed and onto his feet. Because of his injuries, all he could do was plop on his ass and pull a muscle in his lower back. He screamed and coughed while pounding the floor with his fist, ignoring the fact that there used to be glass in his knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Oswald…but you did this to yourself!” said Nikita before turning around and marching away.

“No, wait! Don’t go! You can’t turn me in for this! They’ll put me in prison forever! I don’t’ deserve that shit!” The sound of Nikita slamming the front door behind her prompted Oswald to scream even more curse words while pounding the floor with both fists this time as well as his heels. He didn’t get much offense into the floor due to his agonized lower back, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

Just like Nikita before him, Oswald found an excuse to shed tears, but his own sobbing was loud and obnoxious enough to awaken his couch potato roommate, who screamed, “Hey! Shut up in there!” Except Oswald didn’t shut up. He cursed and pounded the ground some more until he was ready for another trip to the subconscious theater.

“Don’t do this to me, Nikita,” he whispered as he was falling asleep again. “Please…don’t…do…this…”

Incelbordination, Chapter 2

The morning sun blasted through Oswald’s window like a Martian heat ray. His eyes squinted tightly as he struggled to pull himself out of bed for English class. Valerie Sand was a cute teacher and Nikita Johnson was sweet to a fault, but neither of them were worth washing the smell of marijuana out of his hair and beard. Oswald was the most invisible person in that room most of the time, so he supposed it didn’t matter anyways. No shower, no dental hygiene, just a child’s trench coat and “Volcanic” by Death Angel to sooth his tired mind.

During the slow and bone-creaking trek to class, all Oswald could think about was Antero Magnus’s perverse words from the night before. According to the dwarf, the only thing he and Antero had in common was that they were both unloved by the world at large due to their physical appearances and social awkwardness. What was Oswald supposed to do, walk around on stilts? How about Dutch cloggers? How about platform disco shoes? Oswald thought about this so much that he almost smacked his head against the glass door leading into his English lecture for the day. Though exhausted and smelly he was, he made it to class on time as he normally did. At least he did something right.

Oswald took his seat in the back of the classroom like he always did and got a bird’s eye view of the other occupants, namely Valerie the teacher and Nikita the student. He loved how Nikita’s long blond hair flowed so freely across her shoulders. He loved Valerie’s striking blue eyes underneath her thick-rimmed glasses (much prettier than Antero’s cyan eyes by a country mile). And because this was spring quarter and the sun was constantly out, there was always Oswald’s favorite outfit combination on any woman: shorts and sandals. The best part about this? Exposing legs and feet wasn’t considered legally indecent. It was like free porn to him.

Though it was hard to take in his two favorite girls’ beauty when anxiety was the dominant emotion. If only Oswald could smoke a ready roll right here and then. Why did class have to be so long and drawn out? Why couldn’t Valerie Sand give back their short stories now? Did she delight in watching stomachs turn into heavy knots? Did she enjoy the collective feeling of throats drying up? Oswald needed to know his grade now, damn it! The lecture was just extracurricular BS since he never spoke up during conversations anyways (too shy and too introverted). He kept glancing at the digital clock and the numbers kept laughing in his face as they moved slowly.

An hour later and all was right with the world again. The lackluster lecture was over and Valerie began passing back assignments with red ink adorning the pages. Some pages had more of it than others and Oswald hoped and prayed his wasn’t drooling with it like a bloody wound. As students (Nikita included) received their papers back, they exited the classroom with a little more pep in their step. And wouldn’t you know it, Oswald received his last. Scrambling through the pages to see what his grade was, his world went blacker than Antero’s Matrix pills.

There it was in cherry red ink staring him in the face like a pair of angry eyes: a C- for his shy guy romance story. Oswald didn’t even bother reading the critiques. All he saw was the third letter of the alphabet glaring at him, mocking him, laughing at him, daring him to crack under pressure and cry like a bitch. That wasn’t a minus sign next to the C; that was a middle finger. Or a gun barrel, which would have looked completely natural in the dwarf’s slack-jawed mouth.

“Mr. Crow?” said Valerie. No response. “Mr. Crow?” she said again. “Oswald!” That last spark finally jolted the dwarf awake from his living educational nightmare. Adjusting her glasses, the teacher kindly said, “Class is over. You’re free to go.”

Not knowing what the hell to say, Oswald hopped out of his seat and trudged towards the glass door, tossing his paper in the garbage on the way there.

“What are you doing?!” asked Valerie before fishing the paper out of the receptacle. Dusting the corn chip dust off of it, she said, “No, no, no, no, no! You’re not throwing this away. You’ve got notes here that you need to read. That’s how you improve in my class: by accepting criticism gracefully.” No response from Oswald, just a painful glare. “Look, I know you’re frustrated and all, but if you want to put an end to the frustration, you have to improve your writing. This C- isn’t going to go away just because you’re not happy about it. I’d be upset too, but throwing away your homework isn’t the answer.”

She attempted to hand the paper back to Oswald, but the dwarf shook his head and tried to leave once again, only to have a hand on his shoulder stop him from doing so. “Oswald, please just take the paper.”

After a while of hesitation, the dwarf snatched the paper and skimmed over the critiques. He could have sworn he edited the hell out of this story before handing it in. But the one comment staring him dead in the eye tensed his muscles: the implication that he didn’t have enough experience in the subject of romance to write a story about it. “Thanks for reminding me, Valerie. I wasn’t sure I would have remembered that otherwise.”

“Hey! Look at me!” retorted Valerie. “That’s basic storytelling, Mr. Crow: if you’re going to write about something, you have to know what you’re talking about. If you don’t have firsthand experience with the subject, you should at least research it. A simple trip to Google would have raised this grade to your liking.”

“I don’t drink, but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot a drunk when I see one.”

“Oh please, I’ve heard that excuse time and time again, Mr. Crow. Even the best authors have to do research every now and then. And just so there’s no confusion, when you’re writing sex scenes, Porn Hub doesn’t count as research.”

Oswald tossed his paper to the ground like the proverbial gauntlet and said, “Oh, so you’re a comedian now? You think my loneliness is fucking hilarious? You want to talk about having experience, that’s it, man. They don’t get more experienced than me when it comes to being fucked off.”

Valerie knelt down and cupped her student’s upper arms in her hands. “Listen to me…I don’t like the way you’re talking to me right now. You made a few mistakes in this paper and you have to pay for them. I’m not going to give you straight A’s just because you can’t take a little criticism. The purpose of college isn’t to feed your ego. It’s to help you grow into a better person. You have the syllabus from this class handy somewhere, I’m sure. I grade my students based not on their overall ability, but on their willingness to improve. Right now, you think you’re the hottest thing since Stephen King. You need to bring it down a notch.”

No response from Oswald, just his chin tucked to his chest. Valerie said, “You can be angry all you want and part of me doesn’t blame you for it. But the way you’re talking to me right now? You’re giving me the impression that you’re owed something in life. You think you’re owed A+’s. You think you’re owed compliments. I bet you even think you’re owed romance.”

That last comment caused Oswald to shrug his shoulders out of Valerie’s grasp. “You know what? Give me the paper. Give me the goddamn paper. If I stuff it in my backpack, will that make you happy?”

Handing it back, the teacher said, “That depends. Are you going to actually read the comments and take them to heart or are you just going to take it to the incinerator and turn all of your hard work to ashes? Yeah, I said it: you worked hard on that paper; nobody’s doubting that. I’m not saying you’re lazy. I’m saying your hard work is misguided. You need to listen to me. You need to listen to your fellow students. The knock on your romantic skills isn’t that you have scraggly hair or are three feet tall. It’s that you push everybody away. That’s the vibe I got from your main character. Please, Oswald…listen to reason.”

Oswald reluctantly stuffed the essay in his backpack and tried once again to head out the door. “Just one more thing,” Valerie called out to him. “It would help your future grades handsomely if you spoke up in class discussions rather than stare at my legs and feet.”

The dwarf’s face glowed bright red as he slowly closed the glass door behind him. He frantically checked down at his crotch to see if he had an involuntary boner. Though he didn’t, he pulled his trench coat over his body anyways and speed walked as far away from the classroom as he could. Speed walking turned into jogging. Jogging turned into running. He needed a safe space from this never-ending embarrassment, which should have been a no-brainer considering colleges these days were full of them.

The gym! That was it! He could just throw a few punches at the sand bag for an hour or so. Heh, sand bag. Valerie’s last name was Sand. How poetically appropriate. At least Oswald’s boxing punches couldn’t be marked with a C-. For a little guy, he sure had dynamite in his fists. He had to, especially if his old high school bully Wacey Judge was anywhere nearby.