Vengeful Gods

Picture your average punk ass teenage boy. He hates his mom, his dad, his stepdad, his stepsister, pretty much anyone he comes in contact with, and most of all of himself. This boy is mad at the world. He's mad at his school, his home, his life, and the future he doesn't believe he has. If you need any reference as to who this boy is think back to that guy in your homeroom class who had an undying hatred for that pretty girl who wore miniskirts and didn't know his name. For all intents and purpose that boy is Connor Hayes. 

Connor Hayes was in the shower aggressively masturbating to the thought of that girl in homeroom on her knees telling him that he was the best she'd ever had while his hands were gripping tighter and tighter around her throat, as was his Wednesday night ritual, when he heard his mother pounding on the door yelling at him to stop wasting the water, as was her Wednesday night ritual. When Connor gets out of the shower he likes to stare into the bathroom mirror covered in steam. He wishes mirrors were clouded all the time. That way he could look into it them and not have to see his imperfections so distinctly staring back at him. Rather he could see a blurry version of himself who could be anyone really. Someone more handsome, someone more popular, someone with much more power.

Sometimes Connor imagines that the clouded figure in the mirror is the God that his mother loves more than she loves him. These are the times that Connor will stand and stare into the mirror until all the steam clears away so that he can see God’s true face. He stands for hours, naked staring at himself in the mirror, the God he's been waiting for revealed at last. Connor does this on his bad days. 

Today was a bad day. Today the pretty girl in the miniskirt was handing back graded papers in homeroom and didn't realize that she had given Connor the wrong one and he was furious. So he stood and stared at himself in the foggy mirror telling himself that he was God and nobody gave god the wrong paper because everyone knew who God was and anyone who didn't was smited down with his wrath. Blind with rage Connor was staring at the steam clearing off the mirror when he noticed some of the features of the blurry figure were different from his own. The hair looked longer and darker than his own and the figure looked taller. Connor rubbed his eyes thinking he was finally losing it. When he opened them again the steam was gone and his own unfortunately familiar figure stared back at him, mocking his dreams that he could ever be more than what he was right now. 

Furious, Connor bounded into his bedroom and threw himself on the bed, ignoring the calls from his mother that if he didn’t come down for dinner now he wasn’t getting dinner at all. Connor didn’t know how long he had been laying on the bed. It felt like minutes but it could have been hours. However long it was really, it was at least time enough for him to have dozed off curled up in a ball, clutching his cold naked body on top of his covers.

Connor woke up suddenly to something hitting him in the face. He opened his eyes and was staring at the culprit, a pair of dirty underwear, when an unfamiliar voice made him jump out of his bed. “Please, in my name would you put some fucking clothes on.” Connor now found himself standing naked and shivering, face to face with the figure he had seen for just a moment in the mirror. “What- Who are- I- How did- What-” Connor stammered, unable to form a complete sentence, as you know it is difficult to do so in a situation like this. “I’m not answering any questions until you cover yourself. I’m serious. I meant to make you all in my image but I clearly missed the mark in some areas” the man said scanning Connor’s figure. Connor clumsily put on the underwear that had been thrown at him and tried to cover the rest of himself with a sheet all the while watching the stranger mill about his room as if he were completely at home. 

“Did you-Did you say- Your image?” Connor managed to say with much difficulty. The stranger spoke to Connor without bothering to look to him and stop exploring the contents of Connor’s desk. “Yes my child. Don’t you recognize me? I know I saw a picture of me in the living room.  Now granted the painter clearly took some artistic license, happens all the time, but all the same you should still be able to get the main idea” Connor stared in awe at the man who was now sitting at his desk and flipping through one of his school notebooks. He wasn’t even sure if he believed in God in the first place. However the alternative that this strange man wasn’t God and instead some wack job who could be potentially dangerous was not as appealing as the idea of an almighty being choosing to visit him, granted visiting him at a bad time but all the same it was the option he preferred. 

Connor stood silently gawking at God deciding if he should scream or not. “God ahead scream” God said without taking his eyes off Connor’s notebook, “I dare you.” Connor yelled downstairs for his Mother to come quick without taking his eyes off God. Two minutes later the door was shot open by Connor’s mother who stood in the doorway juggling a basket of laundry in one hand and his baby step sister in the other. “What Connor?” She sounded as frustrated as she usually did when addressing her son, in fact Connor couldn’t seem to detect any trace of worry in her voice towards the fact that there was a strange man in her son’s room. God finally looked up from the notebook to smirk at Connor. “Connor if this is about dinner I was serious. You don’t want to eat with the family? Then fine. You don’t eat at all. Or at least I’m not making anything else. If you’re starving go make yourself some cereal. God gave you arms, legs and free will. Use it.” With that she had lost her patience and slammed the door shut, no mention or worry of a potentially dangerous man in her house. 

“Alright now that we’ve gotten that out of the way” God popped up from the desk and addressed Connor in a cool and even tone, not allowing him room to speak in response, “I’ve come her with a proposition Connor. I have a job just for you.” God thrust a folded piece of paper into Connor’s hand. Connor looked at the paper and saw that written on it was a list of ten names that at first glance he did not recognize. “I need these people dead”, said God unphased by the look of terror in Connor’s eyes. “I would like you to do the job for me.” Connor couldn’t take his eyes off of the list in his trembling hands. “W-W-Why me?”,  Connor stuttered. God laughed, “Isn’t it obvious? I’m giving you what you want Connor! You stand in front of that mirror and pray that somehow the steam from your shower will transform you into a god. I’m sorry to break it to you, that’s not how it works, trust me, but I’m here, my child, to answer your prayer. I’m giving you a little slice of the power of God.”

At that Connor’s hands stopped trembling. A resolve washed over him that would go unnoticed unless you looked into his eyes. God did, and God knew. “Are you in kid?” God said reaching out his hand to Connor, and without hesitation Connor thrust his hand into God’s to shake on it. “Yes.”

The people on the list were all deserving of punishment, God had assured Connor, but Connor didn’t need as much assurance as one would think to get the job done. His hatred for them was enough. He hated that their lives seemed better than his. He hated that they cried for God when he killed them. If only they knew that he was on God’s side. If only everyone knew. If everyone knew then the pretty girl in homeroom would know his name. He was sure of it.

Wednesday night, Connor stood staring into the foggy mirror in his bathroom. His ritual had changed. Tonight in the shower he masterbated to the thought of the pretty girl in the miniskirts name on the list. He could hear her crying for God in his fantasy, as he waited for the cloudy mirror to reveal God’s true face to him yet again. Usually the cries grated on his ears, but in her voice they sounded right. She finally knew his name and finally God would smite her.