The Six Degrees of Separation - A story of sadness.
Yesterday it seemed alien.
Today he is the alien.
Chapterette One
He clicked on the send button and sat back, satisfied. Every day there seemed something for him to comment on, and usually it involved kids. They were being murdered, abused, beaten – and no one seemed to care. The judges, when they caught them, sent the animals to jail for a year or two and meanwhile the kids lives were ruined. Whole families had their lives ruined and the evil filth responsible just seemed to get a couple of years in a holiday camp.
Of course, writing to the paper or even his member of parliament was a waste of time, he knew that. But unless people protested then children would remain at risk and continue to suffer. It made him sick. If he’d been lucky enough to have kids, he would have treated them properly. It was ironic – those who really wanted them often couldn’t have them but those who should have been sterilized at birth end up abusing them. Blogging and putting his opinion down on paper – or at least on the internet – might not achieve much, but maybe, just maybe, at some point it might ultimately help to bring about some sort of change. If just one child avoided sexual abuse or a beating, then any amount of hard work would be justified.
Chapterette Two
It was hard being on your own. His wife had left him – they were incompatible she said. Clearly she was right because she’d left him. Both had wanted children, but it had never happened. Like some golden dream it had greyed into a nightmare. Eventually she’d packed her bags and left. There had been no one else, it was just that being alone was better than being together.
In a relationship which shared little physical affection, the main impact of her departure was the requirement to do his own washing and cooking. Sexual frustration as a problem had long been eradicated – their inability to share such closeness just meant a move into methods and solutions that he could undertake alone. It was, true, a little like sitting under a sunray lamp as opposed to lying on a beach, but it kept things under control.
Lack of conversation was sometimes a problem, but he had a few internet friends, people he’d never met but with whom he’d struck up a close – if strange – relationship based on electronic impulses and digital interchange. It was a type of social intercourse and he wondered if digital intercourse was perhaps an appropriate term. He’d google it maybe.
Chapterette Three
‘Digital Intercourse’ he discovered was not a particularly relevant term to apply to ongoing digital communication. A quick search of the internet had revealed some surprising and particularly disturbing facts and images related to ‘Digital Intercourse’ which disgusted him greatly. People, he thought, could be very perverse when they wanted to be. And considerably perverted with it.
He did find a number of sites of more appeal, however. The artistic presentation of the nude as a classic enjoyment, while bringing some sexual arousing, seemed to be of a nature that was made for appreciation. The subtle exposure of beauty without the baser exposure of biology brought a heightening of his spirituality. The gentle curves and tones of the nude could hardly be called sexual or pornographic – they were rather closer to a human landscape, a presentation of being within femininity and fertility and as far from the carnal extremes of ‘Digital Intercourse’ as one could get.
Chapterette Four
There was, he found after some time, perhaps some merit in the delicate sweepings of all human design. While initially he had found the vulgar partings of the female subject repulsive and revolting, he was forced to admit, after a while, that when treated in an as-is manner, without the dark exposure of sexual activity or promiscuity, they carried a subtle, almost childlike joy of natural being and freedom. Like the soft water worn river pebbles devoid of grass or weed, even the most intimate of female humanity could be appreciated.
Chapterette Five
The films were good. Exactly what he’d hoped for. Totally without any sexual or lewd overtones. The young girls were soft and silky and played happily in the natural environment of being – without the artificial trappings of false coverings of clothes or makeup. Many were underage, of course, others were older. But they shared that natural exposure that brought him so close to his true state of spirituality.
He would watch them in the same manner that they would parade – on the screen – in front of him. He would imagine that they could see him just as naked as he, they. His arousal did not seem unreasonable or wrong since there was nothing sexual about about the subjects of his interest except for their freedom of undress. He did not imagine himself possessing them, or taking them – he just watched them, and admired them, and in his mind he would touch them with his eyes, until his conclusion was reached. Then, sometimes, he would feel a little uncomfortable as they continued their dances and paradings. But next time, this was forgotten.
Chapterette Six
The trouble with video is that it is just a recording. They girls all run and jump the same way each time. The light falls upon them in exactly the same way – never failing, never varying. They become less animated with every viewing and the effort to reach that particular joy becomes greater and greater.
More videos do not seem to provide the solution either. It was true, some – more interesting – ones had helped, a little. The increase in sexuality amongst the very young girls had, for a while, provided that added zest that was needed, but the bar kept rising – if nothing else did – and soon it was too high to breach. No matter what the children or women did, no matter who they were with, nothing really touched him. They stayed as lights on the screen of his computer. The adrenaline slowed and even the greatest perversions soon failed to pump it.
And it seemed to him that Life was denying him. Again.
Chapterette Seven
The arrest had been inevitable. The first child had not seen his face and he had only exposed himself, but with the second had come a more physical interaction. His intention to show would not have delivered to his need – he’d known that even as he’d gone out that day. Yes, the first had been good, but each time there was a new goal post, a new high jump, and ultimately only one thing would do the job.
The court case had been quick. DNA, a stupid attempt at an alibi and a hard drive of child pornography had sealed his fate. There was little point in fighting it. Just go with the flow. And bide his time.
Yesterday it had seemed so alien. In the yesterday of life where he’d not even bothered looking at a topless model and pornography had seemed – so alien. Yet in the today which was the rest of his life, he was a convicted pedophile – himself the alien of society.
How had he crossed those six degrees of separation?
shanghaiwu
you are amazing
shanghaiwu
interesting writing lightsmith
lightsmith replied
I find this a disturbing story, but also a cautionary one. I can well believe that there might be a hundred such people out there – that, in a sense, we are all just six degrees of separation from the very demons we despise…. Thank you for your comment. Sometimes I frighten myself :o
shanghaiwu
I also find it disturbing and has certainly given me something to think about.
I’ll get back to you on this