There Will Be Blood: My Hallmate Fucked My Mom

So there’s this guy in my hall named Hans who is kind of like the picture of beauty. When I met him during move-in my heart skipped a beat. So did my mom’s. 

He is tall. He has long, full, and rather straight blonde hair. Probably a guy who frequents Pottruck, although I never see him when I’m there at 6:00 A.M. to get some strength training in before my morning run. I do see him, however, in my Tuesday and Thursday Economics lecture, where I make sure to avoid sitting immediately behind him (made that mistake once — couldn’t see the board all class). I prefer to assume a position a few rows back so that I can gaze upon his golden features as I plot my revenge.

I also see this man in my nightmares, which provide most of my inspiration for revenge. Historically, I have not been much of a dreamer, but these visions pervade my increasingly restless nights. Like the vignettes from this book I read in tenth grade English, I see Hans and my mom apple picking, stopping for cider donuts on the way home, making apple pie, and more or less performing all of the steps of the apple picking process. The nightmares rarely focus on a non-apple topic. 

As far as revenge goes, unfortunately, Hans’ mom is way out of my league. And I don’t necessarily believe in “an eye for an eye.” I’m totally Jewish, so don’t come at me with that bible shit. Instead, I think I’ll play the long game. Probably get really zen and Nathan Fielder-esque with it. Dedicate a room in my apartment to him, map his daily routine, figure out where he shops, what shows he watches, who his friends are, etc. And then tear it all down.

There has already been sweat (mine), tears (mine), and other fluids (undisclosed). Next, there will be blood.