At the Edge of the Sunshine
Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars – J.R.R. Tolkien
I have been rebellious for as long as memory serves me well. When kids my age were watching Barney the Dinosaur, I was flexing my muscles in contact sports. When kids were indoors, playing with their LEGO toys, I was out running vigorously. People could see I was different as I did not conform to their beliefs and standards. I defied the expectations of my peers and forged my own path.
I do admit that my parents fed me with a silver spoon – I had every luxury you could ask for at my disposal. But my disposition was not that of a spoilt brat but rather of someone who had identified the fine line between reality and fiction. I was a friend of the affluent and a bastion for the weak.
I always stood out, for good and bad reasons. Having money and a nice ride meant I always drew attention from crowds. However, I think it is important for the readers to understand that I never took my lavish lifestyle for granted. I worked hard to multiply my wealth and get my hands on the things that made me happy – girls, parties and good music.
I spent a large fortune of mine on throwing wild parties, where folks smoked dope and drank like maniacs. We are talking in millions here. I knew my money was going down the drain but I was having a great time and my own gratification meant the most to me.
I do not give much thought to Zodiac signs but boy I am a Gemini and I loved to get loud and lousy. I usually acted on impulse which got me into some trouble. I never got my act together and instead lived in the illusion that I was entitled to all that I had.
I thought I had earned the right to live that wayward lifestyle.
Shine On You Crazy Diamond
Did I mention that I also had another pastime? I loved girls, I still love them but yeah, girls were my weakness back then. However, I was only motivated by lust and bodily pleasures than any sentimental value attached. I always aspired to stay head and shoulders above others, and that reflected in my personality. I walked and talked with a suave that would immediately captivate the other person. I sure knew the skill to leave an impact.
I can safely say it was the best phase of my life, whatever I touched turned into gold. I had just founded a production house, supporting independent movie/documentary makers and it was not long before we started receiving offers. It was surreal – I was rapturous. The parties and the booze increased considerably and so did my weight. I was making money like peanuts. I even went on a trip to Europe with a mistress to chill. Life was good.
When you are privileged and have more resources than others, you ought to have enemies. Plus, I am a fairly good-looking chap. The deadly combination of good looks with money – is there a prospect more tempting for a female than to have a sexy chap with a huge bank balance? She certainly thought no.
Every single female in the university knew me well if someone wanted to hook up, they’d approach me, we’d have a wild night and she’d go her way and I’d go mine. Everyone knew I was not in the mood to be in a serious relationship with anyone.
Anyways, people could tell she was into me; she would find excuses in the class to sit next to me, would give seductive looks during my class presentations and so on. But I did not fall for her bait. I actually felt sorry for her, as I could see right through the facades she bore.
Sometime later, I received a long text from her. As I said, I was extremely popular, so getting my number from someone was not an uphill task. This is what the text read, “Hello, in spite that you have been deliberately ignoring me, I cannot help but love you unconditionally and irrevocably. You are irresistible, I want to taste you. You know, Valentine’s Day is fast approaching, I have planned something special for the both of us 😊 Please talk to me, love, you mean the world to me.”
Crashed and Burned
It was not the first time a damsel had proposed me and it certainly wasn’t the last. One could easily sense the selfishness and emptiness behind her words. I mean, we hardly ever connected and you claim to love me to bits, damn. Besides, Valentine’s Day for me was a joke. All I cared about was shagging classy ladies, that was it.
Anyways, I did not respond to her text, knowing fully that it would make her indignant. Time went on and nothing really happened until one day, when my entire life turned upside down. I realized that day how powerful could a feeling of rejection be. It was graduation week and I had come to meet a professor of mine. After my meeting had ended, I went outside to the parking lot to drive away.
Just then, someone grabbed my shoulder from behind with a vehement force. I looked behind and saw her. She had an exasperated look on her face and wanted to know the reason why I rejected her. With scorn on my face, I simply said, “Do Not Play with Fire, You’ll Get Burned”.
I shrugged her off and stormed off. It was not the first time I had rejected a girl but something was strange – I was sweating profusely; my heartbeat was racing and I was having a feeling of guilt. Those were the tensest 30 minutes of driving I had ever done.
I reached home and hit the sack without eating anything, with my mind still spinning from her thoughts. But why? I did not know. I woke up the next morning, on the 14th of February, Valentine’s Day. Actually, I was awoken by my mother who in a distressed voice told me that the rector of the university has called me to see him in the office by noon. Now I was worried. I knew she was somehow involved in this, she had to be!
Just as I got to the university, I saw police mobiles, with their deafening sound of siren parked outside. I went into the rector’s room where I was greeted rather unceremoniously by a police officer. The first thing that official said was, “We know you did it, will you admit here or in the station? Also, what was your motive? You cannot run from the law, I will make sure you are dealt with an iron hand”. I was too bewildered to say anything.
I simply asked the rector what had been going on and he asked me to take a seat. He told me that she was abducted, raped and left for dead, but somehow survived. I was too stunned to say anything. Just as all this was happening, 2 police officers stormed into the room and handcuffed me.
They took me into a police mobile, in the presence of curious onlookers. The police sirens started wailing as I was taken away on the eve of Valentine’s Day to a police station.