Ruthlessly 1 Hello Me!

I'm a horrible person. I don't exaggerate my words by saying that I am what some people see when they look at me and the abject being that my mirror reflects back to me every morning.

However, I wasn't always like this. It wasn't chance that made me evolve to become a monster, but it's the same people who gave me this unglamorous t.i.tle that's responsible for my transformation.

Let's do a brief leap of a year into the past.

I had always been the poster boy for the perfect gentleman, matched with a kind, understanding boy who was willing to sacrifice himself for help the people around him. To tell the truth, if I had behaved like a boor or a thug, at age 6 or 16, my mother would not have hesitated for a moment to spank me in public.

It is true that my upbringing was very rigid and that at the slightest misdeed, my father would pull out his belt to show me the right road to go down, however, I have no right to complain for such a small thing.

Since I was a child, if I disregard the piano lessons imposed by my mother or the golf courses my father liked to take me to, at Christmas as in March, I was covered with gifts every day.

Maybe this way of filling me up was just a way for my parents to apologize for their absence during the week, or maybe they didn't know how else to spend their money. Anyway, with all my toys and clothes, I could have opened a small mall.

This life between blows and material consolation suddenly came to an end last year.

After an evening during which the champagne probably overflowed from the gla.s.ses, my father couldn't think of anything better to do than to crash his car into a tree. Unsurprisingly, the tree emerged victorious from this brief confrontation.

My mother died instantly, but my father gave the doctors a little hope, and then took it away by dying before that these needle professionals have the time to operate on him.

That's the way my father was. As a powerful businessman, he knew how to bring hope to people before he broke them by stealing all the money they had.

Although I thought otherwise when he was alive, I say today that my father was a great man.

Left alone at the age of 17, confronted of a family of sharks busier stealing my parents' money than consoling me, I can only thank the lawyers who remained faithful to our family and made me a teenager who, like my parents at the time, do not know how to spend all his money.

Family, friends, working relations.h.i.+ps of mom and dad, in less than three months, I quickly realized that for all these people, I was no longer the nice Brian Sanderson, but a source of supply with whom to maintain good relations, proved to be very profitable.

In the beginning I was often trapped by the fine words of these people who, in the end, had no consideration for me as a person.

For example, I was helping my friends pay for their schooling and give them a little money when they asked for it, or I would agree to organize parties three times a week, that kind of thing.

I also had to take care of my cousins who threatened me with death if I didn't give them what they wanted.

Everything accelerated when the young man I considered my best friend came to beg for a German car that I didn't have the heart to refuse him.

What is a car compared to 11 years of friends.h.i.+p? That's what I tell myself that day.

He offered himself a sedan that was too big for my taste, but the following week he came and cried on my shoulder complaining that living with his parents had become unbearable.

This time, I hesitated in the face of his very specific request. An apartment on the Upper East Side is no small expense, so I asked him to give me two days to think about it.

He left angry, calling me a bad friend, but although my heart was aching at the thought of disappointing my friend, I managed to maintain my position.

So aware that everyone was getting too greedy, I was proud of my first small victory, my mind, him, was not at peace.

That same night my life and all my certainties were shattered. The same night, I changed. No, it was that same night that my heart broke and that my whole being went from light to dark. .

It must have been 10:00pm, 10:30pm at the most, when my girlfriend turned off the television we were watching in the huge family living room.

My Nina was the one who had been the most important thing in my heart since I was 13 years old. I can modestly pretend to attract women without even lifting a finger and yet, I never cheated on her.

For me, only my Nina existed. My world, my life, my past my present, my future, it was for and with Nina that I was considering them.

Nina was the love of my life and I think that no woman will never be able to replace her.

Nina wasn't tall, in fact she was quite short, but the angelic look under her long blonde hair with its natural curls had captivated me the moment I saw her.
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It wasn't so easy to get my sn.o.bby, elitist parents to accept my girlfriend. Nina was coming from an average family, and she attended a public school. For my mother, getting involved in such a relations.h.i.+p prevented me from growing socially.

Still, while they never actually condoned Nina and me being together, in the face of my tenacity on this question, my parents eventually gave up and decided to meet her. The meeting was inconclusive, but no family drama resulted.

Coming back to that sad evening, which turned my worldview upside down and dispelled all the moral codes my mother had instilled in me, when Nina presented me with several A4 sheets of paper showing different hotels around the world and their rates, I was surprised.

"You know, Brian, Mom's getting better and better and to encourage her, I want to entertain her by showing her the world."

When she mentioned she wanted to go on a trip for the well-being of her chronically depressed mother, I smiled.

My Nina was like that: an angel. Although I'd been aware of this for years, this time her generosity again moved me somewhat.

[I am certainly the luckiest boy. What other teenager is lucky enough to have such a sweet girl close to him?]

While I could only praise my good fortune, Nina took advantage of my absence to go to the kitchen. Yes, Nina was a little greedy, but that's a different story altogether.

I came down to earth when I heard Nina's smartphone vibrate. This smartphone, which she usually never left, was posed on the gla.s.s table only a few inches away from me.

I can promise I never checked her messages. Before that night, I never even thought to.

I don't know why. To this day, when I see myself turning on her smartphone and opening her messages, I think that if I hadn't been so curious, maybe my life wouldn't have gone in that direction.

(Did you manage to take the money for our trip from that moron. Come and see me soon, I want your body.)

In addition to the sender of the message named John and his words equivocal enough that I can't deny the meaning, the picture of a man over 40 years old naked in his bath caused an electroshock in me.

Soon, I was going back through the messages and discovered my girlfriend, totally naked, posing or touching herself.

When Nina came back, I didn't yell at her. Deep inside me, a voice didn't stop screaming: "Crush her head against the table."

It only took me a moment to push back that vengeful voice and I just calmly listened to my girlfriend's apology for the trip, supposedly intended to her mother.

This way of lying to me with so much aplomb while smiling at me with sweetness as she had done since we met, had allowed me to remember many unbelievable situations where this smile had cheated on me.

In love, naive, brought up to respect women, I suddenly realized that from the beginning, I had never stopped lying to myself.

Nina laid sweet kisses on my cheeks, but she was probably getting impatient. To testify to this, she grabbed my hands and waved them up and down, repeating phrases such as :

"Well, would you do this for my mom?" "I know $650,000 is a lot of money, but I think mom's health is worth it. Don't you agree with me?"

She talked and talked. She kept pleading for her money. As for me, I couldn't help thinking to the filthy photos that my Nina had sent to that old man.

It's pathetic, but I had never touched my girlfriend, because she said, "Purity must be maintained until marriage."

b.i.t.c.h! b.i.t.c.h! b.i.t.c.h! That's the last thing I thought about before I ripped her clothes off.

Three days later, the police came to visit me. I firmly stated that I hadn't seen my girlfriend for quite some time. I calmly told these law enforcement officials that her relations.h.i.+p with a mature man had caused me to end our relations.h.i.+p.

My sad expression and my six lawyers, all from the largest law firms, did the rest. A prosecutor called me to apologize for the inconvenience caused. I laughed as I said that these police officers had only been doing their job.

Months went by and Nina did not reappear. Her absence has not helped her mother heal, but in the meantime, the Rose bushes in our family garden have never been so high and beautiful.

As mama always said: "The quality of the fertilizer made all the difference."