The Victim

Chapter Two: Friends


The next weeks we continue to live together. But my two roommates can’t stand each other. She’s always pushing for him to contribute more to our bizarre household, and he blames her for trying to monopolize me. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to make peace between the two, tension eventually bursts into a mighty argument over any subject.

“No, no, no. You can’t have both,” she says during breakfast. They have been arguing for a while now, and I’ve been paying no attention. “You can’t defend freedom of speech while pretending to run for any office as a leftie.” “Why not?” he laughs. “Just because you couldn’t handle both things doesn’t mean other people can’t. You really shouldn’t project your own issues on others.”

“This guy!” she says, looking at me. I simply continue eating in silence. “When I read something outside your propaganda circlejerk,” she says. “I realize just how morally evil your socialist totalitarian ‘utopia’ really is.” “It’s just a utopia because of idiots like you,” he says bitterly.

“No!” she bursts. “It’s just a utopia because it’s squishy-fishy make-belief crap that can never work, in any society, ever.” “Or maybe it can work,” he answers. “with the right people in power. We can learn from the mistakes of the soviets, for example.” “Great example!” she exclaims. “That’s the case that illustrates it perfectly: if a small group takes power by force, they can impose their will and call it ‘revolution,’ ‘truth,’ whatever the hell they want; no one will stop them! And that’s the only way to implement socialism: against people’s wishes!”

“Nah,” he replies, “you’re just salty because you have no real arguments here. A good enough society could vote on implementing socialism and implement it without cults of personality or corruption.” She looks like she’s about to explode, so I intervene. “Come on, guys, let’s watch tv or something. This isn’t going anywhere.”

“Sure,” he says. “There’s a new show about a dystopia where only a minority of women can have children and christian males keep them locked up and forced to breed.” She facepalms. “Are you f-wording kidding me? That’s like the most obvious piece of anti-christian propaganda I’ve seen. And it’s made even more obvious by the awards it has received and the fact that you suggested it.”

“Anti-christian propaganda? It’s an accurate description of christians: hierarchy males that want to keep women locked up in the kitchen.” Now he’s taking it too far just to troll her. “What, are you christian now? That’s a bit too much cliche,” he comments looking at me for my approval. “If anything, you’re the naive liberal cliche,” she says looking at me for exactly the same reason. This isn’t working. They won’t stop until one of them “wins.” And the funny thing is, both are completely radicalized during their arguments, whereas they are calm and reasonable when they argue with other people. I feel like there’s some other reason for their mutual hatred that they keep from me. I know they worked together closely at tol until his sister died.

“So what do you suggest we watch?” he asks her. “Maybe that conservative sitcom that was cancelled because it was… a conservative sitcom and nobody watches that s-word?” “Yeah, you clearly got your facts straight,” she replies. “It was cancelled because conservatives liked it. It had incredible ratings but the producer pulled out due to politics. Holy s-word, are you blue-pilled…”

“Oh, look at me, look at me,” he says mockingly. “I’m ‘Ms. Redpill’. The ‘gubmint’ is out to get me. Everything’s a conspiracy!” “Stop it, both of you!” I shout, pounding on the table. “Can’t you behave like actual adults for a second? Outside is bad enough as it is, do we need this crap at home too? We’re eating for f-” But I bite my tongue. “… sake.”

“Why!?” she complains. “Yeah, why?” he joins her. “You can choose,” I say harshly. “Either keep it civil, or keep it without me.” They nod and shut up. “Nazi…” he mutters. “Commie…” she replies.