The Egomaniacs

Author: Meow

Charlotte was a smart woman, but she has a problem. Multiple problems, in fact. Charlotte believed herself to be special. She’s not religious, but if she were, she’d be the type to think of herself as the chosen one. Let’s address her problems! Charlotte has deep rooted mummy issues. She’s seen mummy issues shown in media, but it never felt right to her. Hers was her unique, just like her. She related slightly more to men with mummy issues than she did with women who have mummy issues. Men can suck on their girlfriends and wives boobs, but when a woman does that, it’s considered weird. Charlotte isn’t incestous. She’s fucked up, for sure, but has her limits. Perhaps if she were a lesbian, it’d be easier. She’s slightly retarded in socially situations. She really is a special individual, and many would agree with that. She’d joined a baking program a few weeks ago. It was the type of place that got mocked for how cringe it is.
And then we have Nathan. If you thought Charlotte was bad, you’ll hate Nathan. Nathan also has mummy issues. He’s pretty stereotypical about them, unlike Charlotte. All he really craves in life is a pair of jugs he can suck on whilst drinking milk. Him and Charlotte both share most of the psychological effects that come with mummy issues. They both have shitty, deadbeat dads, but their dads are less complicated. It’s like that with most people. With mummy issues, you could present 50 entire paragraphs explaining why you hate her guts, another 50 why she hates your guts, another 50 explaining why you love her, and another 50 why she actually loves you. As for shitty fathers, it’s as simple as that “Yeah, fuck him”. But then again, we all have our own issues. Charlotte wasn’t being edgy when she wished for all of humanity to die. She truly believed that. Nathan, on the other hand, would be type of guy to lie about that to make himself seem like a cool supervillain. Nathan’s had 4 girlfriends, and they all left because he’s a douchebag with mummy issues that wants to suck on their tits as they play with his hair. Charlotte has been single her whole life. She isn’t overly ugly. Neither is Nathan. They aren’t supermodels, that’s for sure, but like most average looking people, a little bit of effort put into their looks, and a good personality, can do a tremendous amount. Charlotte hasn’t ever really craved love, though. Charlotte doesn’t even know what she wants. Nothing? Money? Fame? Truthfully, she does want fame. She wants to be recognised across the whole entire world. Nathan also craves fame, but he wants love more than anything. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with himself. He’s not necessarily arrogant, in fact, he may be the opposite. He acts overly confident to hide his painfully bad insecurities. Charlotte is actually arrogant. She has almost no talents. That problem is that she is actually quite smart. She’s emotionally intelligent and psychologically wise, if you’d put it that way. Otherwise? She’s fucking useless. Nathan is the opposite. He’s stupid as fuck, but has a few good talents that get him the praise he wants. It’s nothing too special. Baseball, chess, and more goddamn sports. Nathan had dreamed of becoming a police officer, but he gets upset the second someone yells at him. Charlotte never knew what she wanted to do. Everything seemed boring to her. Dealing drugs seemed fun in a chaotic way to her, but she had zero fucking connections. She’d been scared of death for some time, until that fear developed into something else. She would love to be immortal, but the idea of dying doing something fun or chaotic seemed ‘respectable’ to her. She was weird and dumb like that. Nathan never really thought about death like that. He was quite simple minded. One day, they meet eachother, complete strangers, at the fucking baking club! Nathan, like the insecure asshole he is, is creeped out by her. As I mentioned, she is quite regarded in terms of social situations. She laughs at all the wrong times and stares at people when they make jokes. Nathan is so insecure he spent hours studying social psychology and rules as a teen. Sure, it was silly, but now he can act like a normal, healthy, functioning adult. They’re forced to be partners. She doesn’t laugh at his jokes, instead, she just focuses on the baking process. When she joined the group, she genuinely thought it was about learning how to bake. But anyone with any knowledge in socialising knows that these groups are usually just for meeting new people, and potential friends. Nathan joined it because he wanted to meet new people. He doesn’t like her at all. She isn’t laughing at his jokes, complimenting him, fostering his ego. He took that sorta stuff personally. He laughs the second she accidentally spills something. It’s not a friendly laugh. Charlotte goes homes and stares at herself in the mirror, placing her hand on her cheek, closing her eyes, and slowly moving her body. Then, suddenly, she slaps herself! “What the fuck am I doing…?” She laughs to herself, realising how fucking stupid she looked. Her room is noticeably colourful. In the past, she’d asked god to fulfil her wishes, even when she didn’t believe in god. Now that she thinks about it, some of her wishes came a little true. “Halloween is soon.” She says to herself, staring at her clothes in the closet. She’d never really liked Halloween. It only got worse as she got older. But it was tolerable. A few days pass, now it’s the day before Halloween. The baking group is at it again, and Nathan is still her partner. They enter one room alone. He reads a few instructions out loud to her, his eyes squinting as his little pea-brain tries to understand the words. “So, place the dough there, and then-“ suddenly, she spills something else. It’s milk, and it’s all over the floor. He scoffs, “my god, you’re the slowest person I’ve ever met.” Charlotte feels a knot tighten in her throat, as she’s ALWAYS despised being called slow or anything along those lines. She doesn’t apologise or scream at first, instead she just stares at the spill on the floor. He raises an eyebrow, he isn’t as creeped out as when he first met her, now he just thinks she’s an autistic freak, “well? Clean it up.” She goes over to a cabinet to grab some cleaning tools, when suddenly a sharp knife catches her eye. It’s begging to be picked up by her, the shine of it says it all. She never killed anyone, or honestly, harmed anyone. Psychically, at least. She picks it up slowly and walks back over to the stupid creature named Nathan who is known staring at his phone. She hides it behind her back and suddenly SLASHES his neck. She gasps as she watches him stumble and choke on his own blood, he looks at her in disbelief and shock, and she can even see a little bit of anger in his expression. He clutches at his bleeding neck. She steps back, watching in horror and fascination. She’d seen people kill others in media and even seen some real life footage, but this is entirely new to her. She doesn’t feel any guilt, she just feels pleasure. She opens her mouth to make a sly remark about him being ‘slow’, but she just stares at him, her mouth agape. He finally collapses, though he makes two words out through his choked, pained struggled. “Fuck… you.” He then goes limp, the blood still flowing out but gradually becoming less. She simply looks at his lifeless, bloodied body for a few seconds, slightly in shock. She then takes the knife to her own neck, absolutely despising the idea of going to jail, but she doesn’t have the guts to kill herself. She locks the door to delay someone finding his body, and then she leaves through a window, running into the nearest forest. “Shit, shit, shit!” She looks at the knife, and digs up some mud, hides the knife, and buries it as deep as she can. But she hesitates, because if the police get to her, she’ll kill herself before going to jail. With no knife, she’ll have no other options but to slam her head against a wall, which risks leaving her braindead instead of dead. She can’t handle that. She digs it back up and hides it in her pocket. She then goes to hotel and rents out a room. She spends the next few hours panicking in her room, not out of remorse, but out of the fear of jail and public pressure. She’d always seen herself as a genuine hero, and she knows if she was to be caught, the public would call her a monster. She eventually falls asleep, somehow, and when she wakes up, she’s shocked to see that it’s the next day and she still hasn’t been caught. She drinks a bunch of alcohol to numb her fear and other feelings, and passes out a few hours later. Two days pass, now it’s been three days since Nathan’s death. She wakes up. Still no words from the police. She checks her phone with shaky hands and she doesn’t see anything about his death online. Her eyebrow twitches in confusion and mild relief. She sighs, laying back and staring at the roof for a few minutes, finally somewhat calm. “Damn, I really killed someone because they hurt my ego.” She laughs to herself, finding it genuinely amusing instead of pathetic or evil. In her eyes, what she did wasn’t evil. She genuinely believes she’s a good person, and anyone who is slightly mean to her doesn’t deserve to live. She sighs dramatically. “I guess I am really lucky.” She says to herself. A few hours pass. Then, a knock is heard on her door. She anxiously checks… it’s… NATHAN?!?