DEMENTED DECEPTION: The Irony of Betrayal

“…is a blue pill… [take] it…and ‘believe whatever you want to believe’… [take] the red pill…‘you stay in Wonderland and…you [discover] how deep the rabbit hole goes.’”1

-The Matrix2

The following passage is taken from the journal that I wrote for the sole purpose of the world to learn from my mistakes:3

“There was a time during my complex, yet simple existence that displayed a fine example of an extremely tough judgment-call I had to make. It was a choice of love or hate; loyalty or betrayal…4

Bright stars dotted the midnight sky as faded clouds gently floated down around the rotting ruins of an old rental building I was studying. My brief moment of peaceful trance was broken when I become startled from a soft tap on the shoulder that was followed by a faint whisper, “Time is of the essence, buddy boy. Quit gawking at Jeroni’s Junk and let’s get moving!”5

A few moments later, Mische began her ‘artwork’ as I stood as watch for any late-night guards that might be patrolling the grounds. I turned my head to steal a glance at her as she worked on her picture. “Having fun vandalizing you’re home of education? Or is this just business and no play as usual?” I asked her with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “Oh, just hold your tongue! You know it’s always business and never any fun spray-painting the side of your high school,” she expressed casual sarcasm. “And plus, you know yourself one could never call this place of corruption and violence a ‘home.’” Looking at me, she stuck her tongue out at me and then continued working.6

The next day at school, talk of the newest edition of decoration spread throughout the school like a wildfire in the middle of dry woods before first period ever began. During my second period I was called to the office, as expected, for questioning of last night’s “appalling anarchy,” as teachers were calling it. I presented the class with a fox-like grin when I was paged to the office. My teacher sighed with revolting disgust and muttered something along the lines of “Justice will be served finally,” as I left the classroom.7

As I approached the office, I noticed Mische was sitting outside the principal’s office and had her head between her knees. I sat down next to her and put an arm around her. She looked up with red eyes that seemed to come from crying, and spoke with tenderness in her voice, “They said you’ve somehow been caught on video. I haven’t seen it, so they could be bluffing. They’ve already questioned me, but I didn’t give’em any more information than they already had. Jimmy’s in there right now.” I began to get nervous; sweat began to pour out of me like a rushing river as something queer began edging at the back of my mind. What exactly did “any more information than they already had,” mean?8

“How could they tape me?” I asked anxiously. “I, Jimmy, both of us scoped out the area for cameras and covered every one there was with tar!” “Maybe you missed one or a camera caught you before you covered it,” Mische suggested with haste. I stared hard at her, the edging sensation grew stronger and that quick remark made me stop and readjust the gears in my head for a minute. I’m sensing something very wrong here, I said to myself. There’s a different tone in her manner than there was last night.9

“Don’t worry, I’d never give you or Jimmy up; you guys are my life,” I assured her. She smiled the same satisfied smile she had given the night before. The door to the principal’s office opened and Jimmy strolled out whistling with a “gave’em the slip again” look. Mische greeted him with a funny smile, and I gazed into her eyes with suspicion, but all I got in return was a look of innocence in her eyes. Before I could utter another word to either of them, I was called into the office, and was forced to leave the two of them alone together. Whatever was edging me in the back of my mind began to become to form a clear picture.10

The principal squinted his beady, little eyes at me as I slumped into the first chair I saw. He began playing the video that confirmed me giving the south wall of the school’s west wing a new paint job without so much as beginning “I’m disappointed in you,” or an “I’m ashamed to have such a student,” speech. I soaked up every detail of the video: what I was wearing, what brush I used, the trash on the ground, even the kind of window that was beside me as I painted; to try to find where I went wrong. The tape was paused with me looking at my artwork with a window nearby. Principal Mekworth began rambling about suspensions and fines, but none of the details of the consequences made it past my ears. I was staring blankly into the wall opposite of me. Should I give up the love of my life and my best friend just for my own sake? I pondered. No! No, I’ll take all the blame. Then, I glanced at the TV screen and the edging in my mind became clear as fresh-made glass.11

“Are you listening to me, young man?” Mr. Mekworth bellowed at me. “I know you had accomplices. Will you give me the names of whoever else helped you or do you wish to be suspended and spend the rest of the school year in juvenile detention?” I didn’t answer him; I just gawked at the TV screen in utter shock with my jaw dropped to the floor. Without even blinking, I gave him the names of the two people I had cared most for in the world. They never spoke to me again; I never said a word to them ever again.12

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After that, I served my time and did my best to live a good, clean life, never once distrusting the judgment-call I had made. Even though many people could not see how I could have given up my two best friends, I never once gave my decision a doubt. Nothing could have changed my mind; for reflecting in the window beside me in the graffiti video was Jimmy with a video camera aimed at me and Mische leaning towards him, placing a kiss, my kiss, upon his lips.”109

End of Mistake 1-110

Several others to record