Make no mistake. I'm a sociopath. God, that sounded evil - let's rewind a little.
I grew up all over coastal America. House, after house, after restraining order, everything just kinda blends in. If the divorce rate is 50/50, my mom landed on tails like eight times.
So by the time I was 14, right? I moved from seven different houses, and attended six different school districts. After a while, you don't see a point in making friends. The Vitamin C graduation song? Yeah, can't relate.
But then one year, all of that almost changed? For the first time ever, I found myself going to a school for two consecutive years, going on three. And then I like...started turning pretty a month into high school, so the "guys hitting on you" social leverage was really awesome. The popular girls would talk to me all the time.
And they were just stupid. Like they had always been pretty. Never left out, never alone. And when I think about it...all the thinking I've ever done was when I was alone. I was nice about it, and thought I'd always be nice about it. Finally in one place to build a steady reputation.
And then life said, "fuck that!"
My piece of shit gamer brother got us evicted for pirating breakbeat mixtapes. It's like, not even good music. Anyway, so Mom was crying packing up the moving boxes, and that's when she told me we were moving out of the state! And I just got settled!
I said "fuck you, I'm living with Dad" - he's just a neighborhood down. I put the boxes down, go over, knock on the door and...
BOOM, a gunshot! My second Christmas killed himself!
I walked in, floor looked like a whole ass video game - just blood, everywhere. And get this, his suicide note was stuck to the fridge with a Cookie Monster magnet. All he wrote on it - "Nicole's fault".
I'm Nicole, by the way, hi, what the fuck did I do to him? Maybe I missed the office softball game? Men are so into this revenge suicide thing. But whatever, it doesn't matter, nothing matters...I'm moving...again.
City, county, state; all the same fate. But I've always said that while leaving. This time...it's on arrival.
I grew up all over coastal America. House, after house, after restraining order, everything just kinda blends in. If the divorce rate is 50/50, my mom landed on tails like eight times.
So by the time I was 14, right? I moved from seven different houses, and attended six different school districts. After a while, you don't see a point in making friends. The Vitamin C graduation song? Yeah, can't relate.
But then one year, all of that almost changed? For the first time ever, I found myself going to a school for two consecutive years, going on three. And then I like...started turning pretty a month into high school, so the "guys hitting on you" social leverage was really awesome. The popular girls would talk to me all the time.
And they were just stupid. Like they had always been pretty. Never left out, never alone. And when I think about it...all the thinking I've ever done was when I was alone. I was nice about it, and thought I'd always be nice about it. Finally in one place to build a steady reputation.
And then life said, "fuck that!"
My piece of shit gamer brother got us evicted for pirating breakbeat mixtapes. It's like, not even good music. Anyway, so Mom was crying packing up the moving boxes, and that's when she told me we were moving out of the state! And I just got settled!
I said "fuck you, I'm living with Dad" - he's just a neighborhood down. I put the boxes down, go over, knock on the door and...
BOOM, a gunshot! My second Christmas killed himself!
I walked in, floor looked like a whole ass video game - just blood, everywhere. And get this, his suicide note was stuck to the fridge with a Cookie Monster magnet. All he wrote on it - "Nicole's fault".
I'm Nicole, by the way, hi, what the fuck did I do to him? Maybe I missed the office softball game? Men are so into this revenge suicide thing. But whatever, it doesn't matter, nothing matters...I'm moving...again.
City, county, state; all the same fate. But I've always said that while leaving. This time...it's on arrival.
— The opening narration, courtesy of Nicole.
It's funny when a girl tells her story, only to be told back that it's unrealistic. Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real.
For everyone who doesn't know; my mom's a bitch, my dad shot himself, my life sucks, and my brother is on a watchlist. Not in that order, or maybe, I don't know.
But last year, that combination left me at the worst, most predatory school imaginable. At least, I thought it was the worst school, but then I like, talked to other people and it turns out it wasn't that bad? Well no, it was that bad, it was just really standard.
Other girls saying their gym teacher wanted to bang them, their counselor texting them at three in the morning; I was the only one with a white nationalist photography teacher though, so I guess that's something.
But here's the problem; Mom won't listen, the principal doesn't care, and I still have all of senior year to get through! My life's just a game...a sick, hopeless game.
Like, I've never really been "religious", but if God is some introvert loser sitting in their computer chair, I really hope they can help me through this...
For everyone who doesn't know; my mom's a bitch, my dad shot himself, my life sucks, and my brother is on a watchlist. Not in that order, or maybe, I don't know.
But last year, that combination left me at the worst, most predatory school imaginable. At least, I thought it was the worst school, but then I like, talked to other people and it turns out it wasn't that bad? Well no, it was that bad, it was just really standard.
Other girls saying their gym teacher wanted to bang them, their counselor texting them at three in the morning; I was the only one with a white nationalist photography teacher though, so I guess that's something.
But here's the problem; Mom won't listen, the principal doesn't care, and I still have all of senior year to get through! My life's just a game...a sick, hopeless game.
Like, I've never really been "religious", but if God is some introvert loser sitting in their computer chair, I really hope they can help me through this...
— The Re-Up's opening narration, again courtesy of Nicole.
