My Twisted World

by Elliot Rodger

  At the end of Spring I had to commence with my summoning to jury service. I received the summons in the mail a few months prior, but I postponed it until May because I was too anguished to deal with such trivial matters at the time. The Courthouse was all the way in Santa Monica. As I sat in the waiting room before my interview with the judge, I saw a very pretty girl who looked about the same age as I was. She had a face that melted my heart. What I would give to hold her in my arms and kiss that pretty face of hers… I wanted to talk to her, but I just couldn’t. I felt too insecure. I was afraid she would think of me as a creep, as all other girls did. To my fury, another guy came in and struck up a conversation with her. They started talking comfortably, and he even made her laugh! I had to watch it all, and it broke my heart.

  I wanted to get out of there as soon as I could. I hoped that I could make an excuse to avoid having to do jury service. When I was called in for the interview, I requested to be excused due to the fact that I was moving to Santa Barbara soon. To my relief, the judge told me I can go and wished me good luck. As I drove out of the Courthouse parking lot, I saw the same pretty girl. She must have been excused as well. Again, I wished I could have said something to her. She would have made the perfect girlfriend for me, but she was probably already attracted to that other guy who sweet-talked her in the waiting room.

  Damn him! I felt so sad on the drive home. When I passed by the Palisades, I stopped by at a park that I used to play at with James when the two of us were little. I walked around for a bit and took a ride on the swing, reminiscing about happier times.

  At the very end of May, my mother gave me an unpleasant surprise by telling me that I had to move to Santa Barbara on June 4th, which was just in a few days. I wasn’t prepared to move so soon. I thought I would go there towards the end of June, right before I start my summer class. I wanted more time to emotionally and mentally prepare for such a huge undertaking. And it was a huge undertaking. For the first time in my life, I was moving out of my parent’s house; and on top of that, I had to move into an apartment with other college students. I had no idea what to expect, and of course I was very nervous.

  My mother and I found two apartment complexes in Isla Vista that I could potentially move into. I went with my mother and father on a day trip to Santa Barbara to take a look at them. We first had lunch at a restaurant on Cliff Drive, and while there I admired how beautiful Santa Barbara truly was. I found it to be like a mixture of Malibu and Santa Monica, depending on what part of it I was in.

  I was astounded when we toured through Isla Vista. It was a whole town of college students living together, right next to UCSB, and right next to the beach. I had never seen anything like it in my life.

  When I read about it online I thought it was too good to be true, but there it was. It was exactly as I expected it to be. There were hot blonde girls walking around everywhere.

  I always theorized that one of the main hindrances to me living the life I desire was my situation of living in my mother’s apartment. I thought to myself, as we explored more of this college town, that if I lived there, then there was no way I would have trouble getting a social life and losing my virginity. It was the perfect environment to do so. If I can’t get laid there, then there is no hope for me at all.

  The first apartment building we looked at was pleasant, but they only had shared rooms, and I wanted my own room. The second apartment building was called Capri Apartments, and they had a setup of many two-bedroom apartments shared between three college students, in which one occupies the single room and the other two occupy the shared room. The single rooms cost more, of course, but it wasn’t much. My parents and I sat down at a café to talk about it. We agreed that Capri Apartments was the best choice. My mother went back to their office to arrange a lease deal. Capri was a very popular apartment complex, so it was hard to get a spot there so late in the year. They didn’t have any Autumn semester apartment units ready until July, so it was arranged that I would stay in a temporary apartment unit for the first month, and then move to a permanent one in July once it was ready. The lease was signed and the deal was set. I was going to move to Santa Barbara on June 4th.

  My mother was very adamant that I move on that particular date. She said it was because she wanted me to go there and settle in before college started, but I knew the real reason. She always wanted me out of her house because she hated having to deal with me. The Santa Barbara plan would free her of me, and she wanted that so badly that she was willing to pay $900 a month for my apartment room rent. Basically, she was paying money to get rid of me. I realized that once I moved out, there was no going back. It will set a precedent, and the threshold will be crossed. My mother will never welcome me back to live with her permanently ever again.

  In the remaining days I had at my mother’s apartment, I spent a lot of time meditating about how I would deal with this huge change. I had to prepare myself as much as possible, so I did a lot of introspecting and evaluated myself in great detail. This move to Santa Barbara was the only chance I had of attaining the life I desire. I had to do my best to make this work, proclaiming to myself that this time, I will not fail. I exercised in the gym for many hours to boost my confidence as much as possible, and I went to the mall to shop for clothes. Last Christmas I got a few gift cards for Macy’s, and I spent them all on a few shirts that I thought I would look good in, as well as new shoes. After doing everything I could do to physically boost my confidence and appearance, I was ready.

  And so ends another era of my extraordinary and tragic life. I call it the era of Hope and Hopelessness, where I drifted and languished in lonely despair while I lived at my mother’s apartment and attended two colleges. At various intervals, something happened to give me a new hope for my life, only to have it shattered later on. My life had been moving in that same pattern for a long time now, and I was sick and tired of it. All while I was suffering this lonely existence, other boys my age lived their happy lives of pleasure and sex. I can never forgive such an injustice, and it was my bid to overcompensate for it in the future. I had to make up for all the years I lost in loneliness and isolation, through no fault of my own! It was society’s fault for rejecting me. It was women’s fault for refusing to have sex with me.

  The move to Santa Barbara is the endgame, the ultimate climax of everything. I saw it as a new chance that was given to me to finally have the things I want in life: love, sex, friends, fun, acceptance, a sense of belonging. But I could never forgive the world for denying me such things in the past. I was already turning twenty soon. I had already lost many years of my life. I deserve better than that. I am an intelligent gentleman, and I deserve the love of girls more than the other obnoxious boys of my age, and yet they get girls and I don’t. That is a crime that can never be forgotten, nor can it be forgiven. I always wanted to exact my revenge on humanity for forcing me to live such a life, but I’ve also always had the hope that if I can do things in life to make up for all my suffering, then that in itself would be a form of peaceful revenge.

  In truth, the move Santa Barbara was actually a chance that I was giving to the world, not the other way around! I was giving the world one last chance to give me the life that I know I’m entitled to, the life that other boys are able to live with ease. If I still have to suffer the same rejection and injustice even after I move to Santa Barbara, then that will be the last straw. I will have my vengeance.

  Part 6

  Santa Barbara: Endgame

  Age 19-22

  On Saturday, June 4th, 2011, I packed up all of my most important belongings into my car, said farewell to my mother, and drove off to face my destiny in the beautiful ocean-side town of Santa Barbara. It was raining as I arrived in the vicinity, and I felt a sense of ominous foreboding as I entered Isla Vista, my new home. My father met me outside my apartment; he came to help me move in.

  The two of us walked up to the leasing office where they gave me my new set of keys, and then one of the receptioni
sts walked me to the apartment unit that I will be staying in for a month. I was introduced to two new housemates who would only be there for one week. One of them was named Artem, a quiet Russian student who went to UCSB; and the other, whose name I don’t remember, was a tall blonde surfer-type boy who went to SBCC. I was annoyed at how tall and attractive he was, though I didn’t show it.

  After I unpacked all of my belongings, father and I went out for a quick lunch before I said goodbye to him. And that was it. For the first time in my life, I was living independently, miles away from my parents, in a new town. I felt a sudden sense of anxiety, fear, and trepidation; but I also felt a sense of hope that my life could possibly change for the better. I exchanged small talk with my new housemates, and they seemed nice enough. It was hard to believe that I was actually living in an apartment with two other college students who I didn’t know until that day, especially for someone like me who has had very minimal social interaction with other young people. It felt so odd and peculiar. I was uncertain of what to expect, and the anxiety I felt from that uncertainty was overwhelming, but I knew I had to push through this. I knew this was the major turning point of my life. My life was finally changing, and I had to do my best to make that change a positive one.

  The very first night was traumatic and gave me a very bad taste about everything. Through my window I heard a lot of students partying outside, and I wondered, with a great amount of fear, how I would ever be able to join in on their fun. That was the reason I was there, after all. I didn’t think I was capable of it. Later in the night, I heard a boy and a girl having sex in the apartment above me. Just knowing that other young men get to enjoy the pleasures of sex while I get none of it has always filled me with envious rage, as well as bitter hatred towards the world; but to actually hear them doing it?

  That was even more traumatizing. I was prepared for this, however. I had done a lot of research about college life in the town of Isla Vista, and I knew that students had a lot of sex there. I had an inkling of a suspicion that I would eventually hear or even see people doing such things if I lived in that environment. Hell, the reason I moved there was because it was a sexually active place. I myself wanted to be sexually active. But when I heard that couple above me having sex, I couldn’t help feeling vile and miserable about it. I tried to calm myself down and convince myself that soon I will be doing the exact same thing. How wrong I was.

  My first week turned out to be very unpleasant, leaving a horrific first impression of my new life in Santa Barbara. My two housemates were nice, but they kept inviting over this friend of theirs named Chance. He was black boy who came over all the time, and I hated his cocksure attitude. Inevitably, a vile incident occurred between me and him. I was eating a meal in the kitchen when he came over and started bragging to my housemates about his success with girls. I couldn’t stand it, so I proceeded to ask them all if they were virgins. They all looked at me weirdly and said that they had lost their virginity long ago. I felt so inferior, as it reminded me of how much I have missed out in life. And then this black boy named Chance said that he lost his virginity when he was only thirteen! In addition, he said that the girl he lost his virginity to was a blonde white girl! I was so enraged that I almost splashed him with my orange juice. I indignantly told him that I did not believe him, and then I went to my room to cry. I cried and cried and cried, and then I called my mother and cried to her on the phone.

  How could an inferior, ugly black boy be able to get a white girl and not me? I am beautiful, and I am half white myself. I am descended from British aristocracy. He is descended from slaves. I deserve it more. I tried not to believe his foul words, but they were already said, and it was hard to erase from my mind. If this is actually true, if this ugly black filth was able to have sex with a blonde white girl at the age of thirteen while I’ve had to suffer virginity all my life, then this just proves how ridiculous the female gender is. They would give themselves to this filthy scum, but they reject ME? The injustice!

  Females truly have something mentally wrong with them. Their minds are flawed, and at this point in my life I was beginning to see it. The more I explored my college town of Isla Vista, the more ridiculousness I witnessed. All of the hot, beautiful girls walked around with obnoxious, tough jock-type men who partied all the time and acted crazy. They should be going for intelligent gentlemen such as myself. Women are sexually attracted to the wrong type of man. This is a major flaw in the very foundation of humanity. It is completely and utterly wrong, in every sense of the word. As these truths fully dawned on me, I became deeply disturbed by them. Deeply disturbed, offended, and traumatized.

  Those two housemates moved out within a week. I was glad to see them go, after that horrible incident. I was then presented with two new housemates, who would be staying in the apartment for the rest of the month that I was there. Their names were Daniel Faynshell and Reed Mankins. Reed was a quiet Asian-American student who was studying biology at UCSB, and Daniel was a heavy-set Russian student who had a witty personality. Both of them were older than me by a couple of years. Daniel was very social and talkative. He often tried to start conversations with me, which I actually liked. Social interaction was always welcome in my lonely life, and I found him to be a very interesting person. It was nice to have someone reach out to me.

  Soon enough, my summer session at Santa Barbara City College began. I had enrolled for two classes, a history class and a geography class. The history class started at 8:00 in the morning. When my alarm rang, I enthusiastically put on one my new shirts as I got ready to start my first day of my new college.

  The weather was sunny and bright as I made the drive down the 101 Freeway. This was it. This was the moment of truth. My whole life has led to this.

  I was starting a new college, in a beautiful new town. This was my fresh start to attain the life I’ve been craving for so long. If I am unable to make it in this opportunistic environment, then I am doomed forever.

  I felt a surge of confidence as I ascended the flight of stairs that led up to the main campus. For my first class, which was history, I had to cross the iconic bridge to the west campus. I tried to feel as confident and sure of myself as possible, thinking that all of the girls I passed were attracted to my appearance. They should be. I spent a lot of time choosing out that shirt and doing my hair.

  When I reached the classroom, I saw some pretty girls waiting outside. My new classmates, I thought with excitement. I was a bit dismayed that they didn’t pay any attention to me. They didn’t even look at me. I was sure I had an attractive appearance that day, but those girls didn’t seem to notice it. Perhaps I was deluding myself.

  As all of the students started pouring in, a group of typical popular-type boys sat near me. Their overly social and obnoxious personalities offended me, and I felt like getting up and leaving. They somehow knew all of the pretty girls in the class, and it broke my heart to watch them chat up the girls.

  How could I compete with those popular kids? I hated them so much. I’ve wanted to be like them all my life, ever since elementary school, but they never accepted me. They have caused my life to be a living hell for so long. Right then, on the very first day of SBCC, I was going through the exact thing as I did at every other school I’ve been to; the feeling of being a lonely, unwanted outcast.

  That class was horrible, but I didn’t want to give up so soon. I couldn’t! My whole life depended on my success in Santa Barbara. I attended my geography class next. This class was much more interesting, and more relaxed, but it didn’t have any pretty girls in it. After lunch I walked over to the cafeteria area, and I saw so many pretty blonde girls sitting around. I wished I had the courage to go up to them and ask one on a date, but they would have seen me as a creep. Girls are so cruel.

  After I left the campus I drove around downtown Santa Barbara to explore new areas. I went up and down State Street, the main common area of the city where everyone frequents.

  Countless restaurants an
d shops lined a magnificently designed street with wide walkways. It was absolutely beautiful… a true paradise, for those who were thriving there. I can only imagine how heavenly it would be to walk with a beautiful girlfriend down that street. My life would be complete if I get to do that. It would be the epitome of gratifying perfection. To have a beautiful blonde girl by my side, to feel her hand clasping my own as we walk everywhere together, to feel her love! That is what I want in life. Instead, I had to watch other men experience my idea of heaven while I rot in bitter loneliness.

  And there were a lot of young couples on State Street. The whole area was full of young people enjoying their pleasurable little lives. I saw groups of good looking popular boys and girls gleefully walking together. It reminded me of that fateful night, years ago, when I walked through the Calabasas Commons and saw the same thing. And there I was, over two years later, still in the exact same position.

  It was very hard to deal with. I quickly drove back to my apartment and cried to myself, soaking my pillow in the tears of my agony.

  So far, Santa Barbara was not working. I dreaded how horrible it would be to continue suffering my miserable, lonely, celibate life in such a beautiful city where everyone else experienced the pleasures of sex and love. That would be the darkest hell. And that was exactly what was in store for me.

  After a couple of days I decided to drop my history class. I couldn’t stand watching those obnoxious popular boys talk to all of the pretty girls in the class. The girls actually liked them! I should be the one they pay attention to, but they treated me like I was invisible. I didn’t want to torture myself any longer.

  I felt a sense of guilt as I did it, because I made a bid to make the best of my time in Santa Barbara. Once the class was dropped, I felt a sense of relief. I was still enrolled in the geography class, and it was only the summer session. I had plenty of time to make up for it.