the same deranged george stabbed me a second time, this time in the left shoulder. I happened to be at his grandmother’s home to look at george’s rock collection. i think he thought i coveted his quartz rock. i did want to take it home with me but i never would have taken it without asking.
george’s psychiatrist, nurse, social worker, and myself vouched for him. we said he had been under a huge amount of stress because he was near completing his treatment.
saturnine george had choked a woman in the city park so that she lost consciousness and was thought to be dead for five minutes before she recovered. he had been released because the woman had said that she had agreed to it.
when george had bad headaches he was unavailable. he said that he had large white spots in his vision. he thought it was from high blood pressure and having been unemployed for years. he thought it was from the three addictive medications the shrink gave him.
george said i was the only person he was able to fuck. he used his belt to choke me and lacerated my arms with his pen knife. it aroused him and it aroused me that my pain aroused him. he had only once asked me to burn his hand with a lighter and i had refused. it had angered him and i had felt guilty about not giving him what he wanted because i wouldn’t have been able to respect myself. he would have asked me to do shit i wouldn’t have had the stomach to do.
i was worried about george leaving me for someone else. his rings were stuck on his fingers. they tightened and changed colors depending on the temperature. i had been alone for so long. i didn’t want to be alone anymore. i was the one who introduced him to the dead woman in the city park. she had been a friend of friend. i thought george would stay with me if I helped him with women. i felt he liked men more than women and that eventually he would only see them. he was shy, even morose, with women. he never knew when he would be moody and withdraw. he hated to lose a woman to his lack of confidence.

i’ve never done anything wrong, george said. i’m a good person.
you’re going to end up on that new tv show that has the victims respond to murders and rapists, i said.
someone said they saw you drive away in a brown car, i said. the woman was bleeding from her neck, i don’t think she made it.
who do you know, george said. you don’t know anyone. that wasn’t me. i threw out my back. i cant bend over or ly down, much less steer a car
you haven’t fucked me for months, i said.
it’s the medication and my headaches, george said. i’m angry.
what about, i said. what the heck do you have to be angry about?
shut up white boy. you don’t understand me. don’t ever behave like you get my shit. you don’t get shit. you walk around. no one bothers you. you walk in the middle of the street not moving for the cars. other day i had these white bums talking shit to me about how i think i’m intelligent because i’m wearing glasses.