Violent George

This is a fictional story about a man named George who is violent. Any resemblance to any person living or dead or whoever you psychoanalysts think this is about is just a total coincidence that you're making up for your deluded fantasies about me.




George exits the train, walks off the dock and onto the street. There are many people and many cars, all busy walking and moving and making noises. George is about to cross the street, but a car drives through and almost runs over George's foot. It was George's turn to go, and George knows this. He punches the back of the car, giving the back a big ugly dent on it's shiny white trunk. The car stops and a small man gets out, yelling. The man is clearly not in shape, wears glasses and has a bad comb over. The man is angry that George punched the man's shiny new car. The man is still yelling as George moves closer, and only stops yelling (words) when George slams the man's head between the car and the car door. That feels good.
George does it again.
After a while, the man is no longer yelling. George stops and looks at the bloody face and smiles. The head now has a funny shape, especially with the face all funny looking, crooked eyes and missing teeth. He leaves the man lying on the pavement as people gather around the body, some shouting for an ambulance. George is going home now, and is feeling much better.

George lives in a simple apartment. There is a kitchen, where there is a fridge and a stove and a sink. There is a living room where George has a couch, a window and a television, though it will never turn on. If you ask George why, he would tell you that he doesn't know (because he really doesn't.) Then there is George's room, which has a mattress, another window, a large mirror on a stand and another door. The other door goes to the bathroom, where there is a sink, a toilet and a shower.
George likes living here. He has seen other people's places and there is always too much stuff. It is also always too clean, and people are getting sick because of it, thought they never seem to understand why. George finds people to be really strange. This is why George doesn't like people a lot.
George opens his fridge, eats the apple that is there and then goes to bed. He dreams the dream he always dreams, the place with no sky and endless fields of people being hurt and dying over and over again. George wants to go there one day, but he doesn't know where the place is. All he knows is that the place has no sky, the plants never grow and it is NOT in Norway. One man said it was once, but George went there and never found it. When George got back, he put the man's face into the back of his skull.
George wakes up (never remembering that at the end of the dream, someone is always screaming don't eat the apple) and goes to his fridge, eats the apple that is there and leaves his apartment.

George sits on the bench in the park and watches a squirrel nervously ticking across the grass, scared of everything, forced by hunger towards the small crumbs of bread that lay (ominously, in the squirrel's paranoid eyes) on the path. A pigeon is about to beat the squirrel to it, until George throws a pebble at the pigeon, causing it to flutter away, cooing as if it had been insulted. The squirrel stops a little longer than usual, realizing that something new has happened. It remains frozen until that nothing is moving, then continues to advance. In a flash, it grabs hold of the bread crumbs, nibbles at it quickly then runs back to it's home, deep inside some tree. George wishes he lived inside a tree, but is glad that he is not a squirrel. George likes animals a lot.
George gets up and walks along the path. He sees a person who stinks and is wearing ripped clothes, laughing as he rips off a wing of a bird with a crippled talon. George is saddened by the bird, still twitching and crying, trying to break free. Sadness turns to rage like a sustained violin note turned into a tremolo. The man spouts unintelligible gibberish from his mouth as he is lifted up into the air and thrown against a tree. He gets up, rubs his scrawny sides and charges towards George, who simply raises his arm quickly, violently interrupting the momentum of the man's upper body where the fist connected. Succumbing to the laws of inertia, his legs continue to go forward. Now that his body is no longer supported, he then gets schooled in the laws of gravity, and he gets schooled hard. Something fractures as his spine and the pavement hi-five each other on the down-low, leaving him withering on the ground, holding his back with one hand and wildly flailing the other. George walks over to the dying bird, picks it up and holds it in his palm. The bird seems to calm as George pets it, and he cares for it until it dies a few moments later.
Before George leaves the park, he goes to the withering man and uses his feet to cave in the tunnel between the man's lungs and his filthy face. The man makes a sound a hundred times more haggard then he looks as his eyes bulge. He shakes violently on the ground. The shaking dulls to twitching, and the twitching fades to death's perfect stillness.
The squirrel in the tree returns to it's bread crumb, certain as the paranoid can be that the loud noises were no threat to himself. George will think of the squirrel again whenever he eats a piece of bread, but the squirrel will never remember George, for one cannot remember what one never knew was there in the first place.