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I WAS STARING INTENTLY AT THE PRESENTATION.
Anushka Menon
EXPLAIN WHY YOU WERE DROOLING THEN?
David Song
LIAR.
Anushka Menon
GOODNIGHT. STOP BLOWING UP MY PHONE WITH YOUR JEALOUSY.
Ben Stone
A series of meek goodnight messages follow, along with my own. When I finally close my phone, I find a smile etched on my face. The clock says it’s 1.00 a.m., which means an hour of texting back and forth. I try to hold on to this happy, lightweight feeling as I turn in for bed.
But my mind has snagged on one thing. Anushka’s words.
I’m sure the LSDCATS have been getting away with this kind of casting for ages.
I turn over to lie on my back, staring at the ceiling. Exhaustion tugs at my eyelids, but my thoughts are unrelenting. I can’t sleep. Not when there’s this unresolved feeling running through me like a live wire.
I’m sure the LSDCATS have been getting away with this kind of casting for ages.
It’s not a good idea.
Not under any circumstances.
But I throw off my covers and open my laptop. I choose my old Tumblr account. After three password tries, I’ve logged in.
I stare at the blank page for a moment. I’m not a writer. Amal is the writer in my friend group. She has a way of turning words into stories, capturing the reader’s attention with a poetic line or snappy piece of dialogue. I’ve fallen in love with her fantasy pieces, her epic tales and retellings of long-lost princes and wickedly smart witches.
Good thing I’m not writing a fairy tale.
I’m typing without any thought. With every sentence, that rage from before is expelled on to the screen. With every harsh word, my anger burns coaxingly. Warming me up. Comforting me.
When I finish, I think about sharing the piece with the rest of The Tragedies. My gaze finally slides to the clock on my bedside table. A glowing red 3.00 a.m. light shines back at me.
They’ll be asleep by now.
I consider deleting it. Writing out the LSDCATS’ transgressions was cathartic, and maybe that’s enough.
Deep down, I know it’s not enough.
It’s not fair that The Tragedies must talk in a quiet group about what they’ve faced. We – they – deserve better. Maybe they’re afraid to talk about this, knowing how harsh the backlash can be for them. But I have nothing to lose. Not when no one knows who I am online. No one knows who any of us are if we remain anonymous.
With that final thought, I press ‘post’ and send the piece off into the Tumblr abyss.
And only then, once my anger settles, do I – smug and relieved – let myself fall straight to sleep.
By @ConstantlyVictimizedBySociety
Published: 20 September 2021
THE UNVEILING OF THE LSDCATS
When you’re standing on a stage, auditioning for a role, you are also baring a part of your soul. You stand there, vulnerable, in front of a panel of judges who hold your future in their hands. There’s an assumed respect there – you for them, and them for you. Simple.
