Or at least to make them feel like how I felt I had been treated. So they would lose what I had lost, and see what it felt like to be the weakling. And then maybe they’d stop hurting me. For good. Oh, I ached so badly with wanting to wreck revenge on anyone who even looked like they were going to bully me.
I wanted to be the villain who blended perfectly into the crowd – whom nobody noticed because they were average: lived an average life, had an average house, complete with average spouse, children, dog and car. Heck, sometimes the villain even passed off as a goodie in law enforcement. It wasn’t always so obvious that the villain was someone who had been ugly or stupid or whatever that made them ostracised in the past. And every death, every crime would come out of the blue, and nobody would ever catch them. Ever. . .
I wanted the feeling of triumph through revenge without any consequences. I wanted to be labeled a psychopath. When people were shocked at the revelations of my violent ideas, I was pleased. I wanted to be the villain. But WHY?
Because of power. I didn’t want to be weak anymore. I didn’t want to go on thinking that I was useless. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was better than they thought I was. Since nobody seemed to think that highly of me anyway, why not go the whole way, but in the way that I preferred?
It’s so easy to blame Tony Stark for Killian’s turn to villainy, or to blame my parents and/or family for my morbid thoughts… thoughts and ideas that I feel still define me in ways today (albeit decreasing, which is good). But. These events are due in part to my feeling that I didn’t have a choice. Whether I was truly trapped by external forces, or trapped by my own thoughts – I felt I had no choice, and no strength or power. And then we use what is within our grasp – what we have learned from others, or what we know might hurt them the most, to try and turn the tables. . .
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