*This is a work of nonfiction based on actual events I experienced firsthand; used with permission.*
I’m happy to report, and my parents would be even happier to tell you, that I was a rather good girl when I was in high school. I never skipped, I got okay grades, and I never got into any sort of trouble.
It was only during college that trouble started finding me, mostly in the form of bad boys who I made the mistake of dating.
One of these boys was Ricky.
Even though we were only in college - I was twenty-two, about to graduate and he was twenty-one, we were much more mature than people of that age seem to be these days. Though he still lived with his parents we each, for example, worked and put ourselves through school, and paid for our own vehicles, his being one of those über fast Ninja motorcycles that he loved driving as fast as he could. I got on the back of that bike with him once and it was a few horrifying minutes of life I am never going to get back.
Ricky was twenty-one when he graduated from college, and that was a feat worth celebrating. Unlike me, he did not get good grades and it was questionable whether he would pass English that final year. He did, though, and thought it was worth celebrating.
No party his parents could host would be good enough for Ricky, oh no. He waited until his parents were going out of town for a weekend in July to throw the biggest, raging party he could imagine for himself.
Ricky procured kegs of beer and other alcoholic treats for the party, and he set about inviting everyone he knew on the newly minted MySpace. I could tell early on that this party was going to be a mistake. Not only would it be a mistake, it would be a messy, costly mistake that would get him into a lot of trouble with his parents, but really… I had no idea.
As his girlfriend, of course I was expected to attend, but for the most part Ricky ignored me to entertain his guests and I barely saw him all night. Instead, I followed people around the party picking up spilled cups of beer and liquor off his parent’s nice rugs and furniture, and hoping I wouldn’t get in trouble, too.
Then I heard something that made me stop in my tracks. The sound of a chainsaw, very close to the house.
I ran out to the back porch and started screaming when I saw what was going on.
There was a guy with a chainsaw in his hands going at it on the railing of the porch.
I watched in horror as he sawed through the railing and laughed hysterically before passing the running chainsaw off to the next guy. Someone else armed himself against the big bad porch and started sawing away, this time sawing right down through the deck I was standing on.
“Stop it! Stop it!” I was screaming, but no one was listening to me. Actually, people were laughing at me because I was the only one who was trying to make it stop.
Frustrated and annoyed, I just went back inside and listened to the sawing continue along with a jeering crowd that was egging them on to do more. I sat on the couch in the living room, giving up, and just waited for the party to dissipate. When I finally didn’t hear the chain saw running anymore, I went out to the back door to assess the damage.
The back porch was completely obliterated, sawed to literal pieces. The deck furniture was fallen off and askew on the grass, and piles of wood chips were everywhere.
I was so distraught over the mess, so upset that I would get in trouble for having been there and not doing enough to stop it, I left, driving away in the darkness crying because my boyfriend was such a moron.
Ricky disappeared for a few days after the party and finally turned up after his parents had returned home and saw the damage to their house. Of course, they were furious and promptly kicked Ricky out, leaving him to go off on his own and destroy other people’s property.
I wish I could say I was smart enough to break up with him then, but…
What would you have done?