The highly unjust experience of being beaten and humiliated in front of everyone in Isla Vista, and
their subsequent lack of concern for my well-being, was the last and final straw. I actually gave them all
one last chance to accept me, to give me a reason not to hate them, and they devastatingly blew it back
in my face. I gave the world too many chances. It was time for Retribution.
I went into surgery in the beginning of August. After visiting the local orthopedist, he recommended
that I have my broken ankle surgically screwed in place instead of waiting for it to heal by itself. I
decided to go through with it, just so I could be out of crutches sooner. My mother drove me to the
hospital early in the morning, and I was wrought with fear. I had never been through such a thing in my
life. They put me to sleep with anesthesia, and when I woke up my leg burned with pain, though the
pain medication they injected in me afterward helped ease this. A new cast was placed on my leg. I
didn’t even want to think about what it looked like underneath. I was told that they screwed in a
titanium plate to hold the fractured bone in place, and it required six screws. I rested in the hospital for
a few hours before I was allowed to go home, under the instructions that I would have to keep my leg
raised at all times for the next week.
Shortly after my surgery, my mother and sister went on a vacation to Hawaii. They had been planning
this for a long time, and of course I refused to go with them when they initially asked me months before.
My mother didn’t want me to stay in her house all alone in the crippled state that I was in. Taking care
of the house in such a condition would be too difficult, and there would be no one there to provide
immediate assistance in case of an emergency. I asked father if I could stay at his house, but Soumaya
was having some of her relatives staying for the summer, so she refused to let me stay there because it
would be “too much for her to handle”, despite the fact that father’s house had six bedrooms and
plenty of space for me to occupy. Father, of course, gave in to Soumaya’s rules as he always had. My
respect for him was already so low that it couldn’t get any lower because of this.
Due to this little difficulty, my mother booked me a hotel room at Extended Stay America in
Woodland Hills. I was content with this. The hotel was comfortable enough, and my mother stocked me
with a lot of food for the week that I would be there. It provided a nice atmosphere to recover from the
horrific experiences I had just recently endured. The only thing I disliked about this hotel was that it was
located right across the street from Taft High School, so whenever I looked out the window I saw a place
that had caused me great suffering in the distant past. I thought about the bullying I received at Taft,
and in a way my experience there was quite similar to what had just happened to me on that fateful
night in Isla Vista. I was bullied by thugs, and the girls adored the bullies instead of me. Indeed, a very
Only now, I was ready and capable of fighting back against the cruelty of women. Back when I was a
weak and timid boy at Taft High School, I was powerless and frightened, having to resort to hiding in a
life of playing video games. All of the suffering, loneliness, rejection, and humiliation I had to experience
since then had strengthened me. The hatred that festered inside me in all of those years leading up to
this point had empowered me in a dark, twisted way. I was now armed with weapons, possessed great
intelligence and philosophical insight, with the willpower to exact the most catastrophic act of
vengeance the world will ever see.
I spent the next week in that hotel room brooding about the injustices of life and my place in the
world. It fully dawned on me that I would now have to bring about the Day of Retribution. There was no
other hope. I mused that once I descend upon Isla Vista, armed with my weapons and my burning
hatred, I would definitely make sure to target the people who lived in that house I was attacked in. The
plan was to destroy the entirety of Isla Vista, and kill every single person in it, or at least kill as many
popular young people I could before the police arrive and I’d have to kill myself.
I felt so shocked and overwhelmed upon realizing that it was definitely going to resort to this. I was
going to die soon, and that in itself was hard to accept. I didn’t want to die, but I would have no choice.
Vengeance is the only path; all other paths had been closed shut. I thought it to be such a tragedy that I
was actually going to wage war against women and all of humanity. But then again, women’s rejection
of me was a declaration of war. They insulted me by deeming me inferior of their love and sex. They
hate me, and I will return that hatred one-thousand fold. I will inflict suffering on everyone in Isla Vista,
just like they have made me suffer. In the past, I have always been at their mercy, and I was given none.
On the Day of Retribution, everyone will be at my mercy, and in turn I will show them no mercy at all.
My Retribution will be so devastating that it will shake the very foundations of the world.
My broken leg was a setback, of course. Even with surgery, I’d have to be in crutches for six weeks,
and even after that it would take a while to be able to walk normally again. I figured I won’t be walking
normally until October. There was no way I’d be well enough to prepare for the Day of Retribution by
November. There was too little time. I made a new plan to set the ultimate and final date for the Day of
Retribution to be at the end of the Spring of 2014. This would give me plenty of time to prepare. The
Day of Retribution was now my whole reason for living. It’s all I have to live for. This act of deadly
vengeance against the people who have wronged me is my sole purpose on this world. I needed as
much time as possible in order to plan it efficiently.
Postponing the Day of Retribution also gave me a few more months of life. Perhaps I would also use
that time to look for a way out. I have always been itching for a way out of this, and even with the
recent events that had occurred, a small part of me still clung to that inkling of hope.
Gavin came to visit me at the hotel, and he was welcome company. It was really getting lonely there,
though it was definitely better than being lonely in Isla Vista. The two of us sat down for three hours in
my hotel room to have an important conversation. I explained to him my finely altered version of
everything that happened on that night in Isla Vista. He didn’t seem surprised. When he was my age, he
used to go up to Isla Vista quite often. He told me that the kind of brutal, rowdy atmosphere I’ve
witnessed was part of the culture there. The boisterous, wild frat boys get all of the beautiful girls, and
everyone is looking for a fight, like the vicious animals they are. He said it was a truth I had to accept,
advising me to move out of there. I couldn’t accept this truth, because it was unjust. I couldn’t let such
evil exist, and I will not run away from it by moving out of there. I will either thrive there, or destroy the
place utterly. Since I failed to thrive there, I had no choice but to plan my Retribution.
When my mother came back from Hawaii, I went to stay at her house for the next month, until my leg
healed enough for me to lose the crutches. I didn’t want to go back to Santa Barbara while still in
crutches, it would be too humiliating, and I had felt humiliated enough there already.
For the first week after surgery, my leg suffered intense searing pain, though that searing pain was
nothing compared to the hatred that burned in my heart. During that time, I could barely leave my bed,
because whenever I did, the blood rushed to my leg and triggered the pain. For the entire time that I
was in the hotel, I stayed in my bed like a vegetable. After that initial week, the pain subsided, and I was
able to move about on my crutches with greater ease. I often did laps around my mother’s backyard as a
way of venting my anger, sometimes swinging my crutches around as if they were swords, slashing at all
of the enemies who had wronged me in life.
The month that I spent at mother’s house was very relaxing, and I tried my best to calm myself down
as time passed. I spent a lot of time watching movies, reading books, introspecting, and contemplating
about life. I stayed in the house all the time, for I despised having to go out and be seen as a cripple. I
already felt insecure enough about myself for being a lonely virgin. Being seen as a cripple was too much
salt on the wound.
Gavin came to visit me again, and this time we sat in my mother’s dining room to have yet another
important conversation about my life and where I was going. He tried to advise me again to move out of
Isla Vista, but I refused to hear it. I moved to Isla Vista with the goal of losing my virginity and attaining
the life I desire. If I’m unable to have it, I will destroy it. I will never run away in defeat.
My parents arranged for us to have a conference with my Psychiatrist, Dr. Charles Sophy. I set out
with my mother to meet father outside Dr. Sophy’s house in Beverly Hills, and when we got there we
were surprised to see that Soumaya had come for the conference too. This presented a conflict, because
Soumaya and my mother had recently had an argument due to Soumaya refusing to let me stay at
father’s house during my mother’s trip to Hawaii. For more than half of the conversation, the doctor
spent time resolving this petty conflict instead of addressing the troubles that I was going through.
When we finally did get to my situation, Dr. Sophy ended up giving me the same useless advice that
every other psychiatrist, psychologist, and counsellor had given me in the past. I don’t know why my
parents wasted money on therapy, as it will never help me in my struggle against such a cruel and unjust
world. The doctor ended up dismissing it by prescribing me a controversial medication, Risperidone.
After researching this medication, I found that it was the absolute wrong thing for me to take. I refused
to take it, and I never saw Dr. Sophy again after that.
Towards the end of the month, my mother invited Maddy and Mo Humpreys over for dinner. Mother
had recently been reconnecting with her old friend Mo. Maddy had just graduated from USC, a
university renowned for its abundance of spoiled, bratty students who partied all the time, very similar
to UCSB. I often call USC the “University of Spoiled Cunts”, just like I call UCSB the “University of
California’s Spoiled Brats”. Brilliant, fitting nicknames! Before Maddy came, I stalked her Facebook for a
bit, and I saw that she was the exact image of everything I hated in women. She was a popular, spoiled
USC girl who partied with her hot, beautiful blonde-haired clique of friends. All of them looked like
absolute cunts, and my hatred for them all grew from each picture I saw on her profile. They were the
kind of beautiful, popular people who lived pleasurable lives and would look down on me as inferior
scum, never accepting me as one of them. They were my enemies. They represented everything that
was wrong with this world. Maddy was my first friend in America. As a child, I played with her as an
equal. Now she was my enemy. I would take great delight in torturing and flaying her and every single
one of her spoiled, obnoxious evil friends. When she and her mother came to eat dinner with us, I had
to keep calm as I hobbled out of my room on my crutches to greet them.
That relaxing month at mother’s was like the comfort before the storm. Once I go back to Santa
Barbara, fully recovered, the final dark chapter of my life will commence. I dreaded what will come of it.