Responding to Trolls
The following is an exclusive, unpublished excerpt from the novel Soulmates: A Metaphysical Love Story.
Audrey wrinkled her nose at the comment on her last video. She normally didn’t pay trolls any mind, choosing to let her followers tear them apart in the comment section rather than address them directly. But this one presented a unique opportunity, so she made an exception. That, and his username pissed her off.
She wrote the song ages ago, scribbled in her pocket-sized leather notebook like a vengeful prayer. The book of songs stayed hidden between layers of cleaning rags above the washer and dryer, a place she knew her ex wouldn’t be caught dead rifling around. Now seemed like the right time to share it with the world.
“Weaponized Incompetence,” she named it. An ode to her crumbling sense of domesticity.
Audrey clicked the button that allowed her to make a video response to the comment.
“Hi, warriorofgod62547. Woof, that’s a mouthful. I’m just going to call you Chad.”
She pointed to the bubble on the screen displaying Chad’s comment. It read: Sounds like you just don’t know how to take care of a man. It was in response to a video about her experience with emotional and religious abuse.
“Chad, I can see how you would think that. I mean, what other justification does a man need to abuse a woman other than the fact he’s not being taken care of? But alas, you’re wrong. I do know how to take care of a man. In fact, every woman does. It’s drilled into our brains from the time we’re children. The problem isn’t that women don’t know how to take care of men. It’s just that we don’t fucking want to anymore.”
Audrey paused, straightening, and smiled.
“I wrote a song about it. Enjoy. Or don’t.” She shrugged, and began to sing.
I don’t really care if your clothes are wrinkled anymore
‘Cause you don’t really care if my back and my knees are sore…
As she sang, Audrey remembered how she felt when she wrote the song. She was angry, and that was a big deal for her. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to feel angry about her relationship. It was the beginning of the end.
That anger saved her life.
And I don’t really care if you like this brand of coffee
‘Cause you don’t care enough to do any of the grocery shopping…
It started out small, her rage, bubbling deep beneath the surface like an underground geyser. It slowly ate away at the layers of fear and socialization that kept it trapped—kept her trapped—until it burst from her chest like an alien spawn and tore her whole miserable life apart.
Well I don’t really care if my pastor tells me it’s a sin
‘Cause he has never been in the same position I am in
No, I don’t even care if it means that I’m gonna go to hell
As long as I don’t have to see you there as well
And I don’t give a fuck if it means that I look craven
When you never cared enough to support my aspirations
And I no longer care if you think my dreams are cheesy
‘Cause I have spent years of my life making your life easy…
Audrey stopped the recording and took a long breath. She hit Post. With the words out of her body and into the world, she felt like a small weight had been lifted.
She was putting her tripod away when she heard a knock at her bedroom door.
“Come in,” she said.
The door opened and Ty came in phone-first, Audrey’s newly posted video paused on their screen.
“Is this what you’re doing when we’re supposed to be watching Westworld? Responding to trolls?”
Audrey chuckled at the incredulous look on her friend’s face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I would have been thinking about it the whole episode if I didn’t do it now.”
Ty’s expression softened as they smiled. “I like the song. Do you think Chad will like it too?”
Audrey snorted, following Ty to the living room where drinks and the television were waiting.
“I hope so,” she said, feigning desperation and making Ty laugh.
Chad did not, in fact, appreciate the song.
