he enjoyed manicures. [trigger #220]

To the casual, and perhaps smaller minded observer, Jacob didn’t fit most preconceived notions of manliness, but he could kick your ass, and your best friend’s, and your personal trainer’s. All at the same time.  

He enjoyed manicures, spent more money in a week on hair product than most men spend on haircuts in a year, and dressed so well that he had literally been offered money from strangers to be a personal shopper. 

Men with a particular type of insecurity assumed he was gay, a trait this sort of men found detestable. Many other people, men and women alike, both gay and straight, were often enamored with him. He was never in a room where he wasn’t noticed. 

Of all the people enamored with Jacob, none of them knew his secret: that he was the most dangerous civilian contract killer in the world. They didn’t know he was proficient in seven different forms of martial arts (arguably the best in the world in three). They didn’t know that while he could quite easily kill you with his bare hands, he was also the fifth best shot in the world with a handgun, and the eighth best shot with a sniper rifle. He was also fluent in 13 languages, was secretly a published author under the pseudonym Richard Vincent, and had once secretly spent a night in the residence at the White House, just to prove to himself he could do it without arising any suspicion whatsoever. 

 

cabin in the woods. [trigger #219]

They all froze, listening closely to hear whether or not the sound happened again. A few seconds later, it did. A scraping through the dry branches outside. Something about the rhythm or weight made it sound distinctly human, which was eery out in the middle of nowhere as they were.

The six of them had come up to the cabin for the long weekend. It was the last three day break of senior year, and all six of them knew that they had to make the most of it. Tommy’s uncle owned the cabin, deep in the Oregon woods, completely isolated from civilization. Here, at two in the morning, there shouldn’t be anyone else for miles. Yet, there it was again. Scraaaaaaape, crunch, crunch, scraaaaaaaape, crunch, crunch, scraaaaaaaape.

Each of their hearts was beating wildly. They had seen enough scary movies to know exactly what sorts of things can happen at cabins in the woods, but they had come along anyway. They had suppressed their fears as childish and irrational. Now, in the dark, listening to the noise outside as it got closer to the cabin, those fears were fully active, front and center in their minds.

The bravest of the bunch, Tommy volunteered to go and see what the noise was. He argued that he could show ID if needed to prove he was related to the cabin’s owner. He also argued that as the only one who had been to the cabin before, he was the most likely to stumble around in the moonlight outside without hurting himself.

He looked in his friend’s terrified faces. “I’ll be right back.”

He stepped out the door, closing it behind him. The *scraaaaaaaaaaape, crunch, crunch* had stopped. There was a raised voice speaking indiscernible words, followed by silence.

A moment later, the door flew open with a crash, and Tommy unsteadily dropped a heavy trunk onto the floor. Breathing heavily from exertion, he pointed behind him. “My uncle forgot we’d be here this weekend, and was headed up to spend a few days here. His car broke down a ways down the hill, and he was dragging his trunk up to the house.”

Everyone laughed at their paranoia, happily introducing themselves to Tommy’s uncle. The next day, they drove into town and got a mechanic out to look at the busted car, which turned out to be easily fixed. The group enjoyed one another’s company for the remainder of the long weekend, and for years to come would look back fondly on that weekend.

early morning runs. [trigger #218]

Bobby wasn’t a morning person. In fact, he hated mornings, and hated his alarm clock even more than your average American. Yet, every morning he got up at 4:30 to run 10 kilometers. No one really understood it, including Bobby. He was remarkably undisciplined in every other area of his life.

He ran sick. He ran hungover. He ran when he’d been up too late and never actually went to sleep before his 4:30 alarm. He ran on weekends. He ran after one night stands. He ran through shin splints, sore hamstrings, and even hobbled his way through a mild grade two ankle sprain.  

Perhaps it was because this was the one thing he could fully control, getting out of bed and running, no matter what the circumstances. Maybe he was punishing himself for some shortcoming, real or imaginary. He certainly wasn’t doing it because he liked it. The running itself wasn’t so bad, but after two years he still hated everything about waking up before the sun.

All we can know for certain about Bobby’s running habit is that it is more confirmation that people are very strange animals indeed. 

he thought about it every night in bed. [trigger #217]

Dylan could often successfully forget about the feeling of powerlessness that lived in his chest during the day, but no matter what he did, he thought about it every night in bed. Futility was the vindictive demon that tormented him whenever he slowed down enough to be left with his own thoughts.

Sometimes the panic inspired by the fear his life meant nothing led him to frantic action, trying to accomplish as much as possible to quell the pain and anxiety. Nothing he accomplished helped. Other times, this shadow in his heart led him to despair and lethargy, leading to complete inactivity outside of the absolute necessities of work and eating. 

Powerlessness and futility were the driving forces in so much of Dylan’s life. They were the reason he drank more than he should, the reason he picked up so many women at bars, the reason he never let himself be alone in a quiet place. This constant fear was the wolf hounding his steps, the bogeyman under his bed, and the evil tyrant holding him under its thumb in continual bondage. He wished he could be free of it, but he was powerless to do anything about it, which only exacerbated the issue.