‘I don’t fucking care,’ he yelled. I knew he didn’t care, so why did his words create such a sharp pain, that slowly spread, making me feel numb?
Maybe that was the moment that I realised. The moment when things became clear. He really didn’t care. Not what strangers thought of him, not what friends thought of him. He didn’t even care what I thought. His lack of caring was so transparent now. So evidently obvious. He didn’t care, about anything, and I, like everything else fell into that category.
A small part of me had secretly hoped that maybe, just maybe this was a mask. He had to care right? Everyone, no matter how tough, cared about something or someone.
Well, the exception perhaps being psychopaths. They are Biologically wired in such a way that it wasn’t physically possible for them to care. And these people have a breaking point, a trigger, something that pulls them away from the restraints of civilisation and the rules and laws, that keep us safe, that keep us human.
Criminal investigation units create profiles on these people. They know what they are capable of, their limits and their triggers. But without a profile these people can be time bombs.
I felt numb from head to toe, with four little words, I had created a monster in my head. The careless man before me had gone from being a major jerk to a potential mass murderer.
But I composed myself, brushed the thought to one side and looked him in the eye. ‘Well I don’t fucking care either,’ I replied, ‘just bloody pick, Macdonalds or KFC…’
So okay, perhaps the numbness had been caused by hunger but nevertheless, I’m creating a profile, just in case.