The October Music, Stanza 2 - Day 5

When You’re Evil

            History is filled with real and imaginary monsters. From dictators to vampires and everything in between, evil is depicted as something elegant or vicious or powerful, depending on the context. One thing nobody ever mentions, though, is how it can be so utterly, drearily boring. Not in the ‘eh, this is okay’ sort of way. In a ‘oh, come on – do I really have to kill someone again?’ kind of way and, let me tell you, that wears on your nerves after a while.

            Being evil starts easily enough, you know. Usually, it happens when you’re little and get a little taste of power from manipulating someone to do something. For me, it was Bodie Markus in kindergarten. We were playing outside and something dark clicked in my brain. I started telling him that his parents and little sister were going to die unless he did exactly what I told him. Of course, he started crying and ran to the teacher. I denied everything and even cried myself – crocodile tears are lovely. She chalked it up to kids being kids and we went on with our day. But the warm feeling I got in my stomach when what I said made him burst into tears was addictive. I didn’t know why, but I needed more.

            From there, it was the escalation you would imagine. ‘Accidentally’ pushing someone off the play tower and breaking their wrist. Forcing someone to eat dirt and worms to avoid being hurt. Dropping seeds of discontent in friend groups to watch them implode. Then puberty hits and hormones take over. Violence increases. Assaults become less harmless. Lies and sex become part of the playbook. I won’t say how many back-alley trashcans were clogged up due to my actions in high school, but I’d wager it was well over a dozen. College was much the same, with broken hearts, broken bones, and broken personalities scattered across the landscape of the campus.

            But it’s boring now. I can do whatever I want to whomever I want in whatever ways I want and it’s so mundane. It would take maybe five minutes for me to find a random person on the street and convince them to jump off the nearest building. I’ve done it. It’s not difficult. You just look for the desperate ones. That’s not the point, though.

            What I’m trying to say is that I’m realizing something. Being evil – truly evil – is like a marriage. You must choose it every single day and decide you want to make it work. It sounds romantic, I suppose. It’s tiring and a grind and I just want one day where I have a meaningful conversation with someone I love, you know? It does get lonely. Everyone needs human connection, after all. Maybe I should change. Maybe I can make myself better. Kinder. Maybe I can find love.
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            Nah. That sounds like too much work. We are who we are. Why don’t we go upstairs? I have something to show you.