Can a Man Who Was Raped by a Bear Ever Find Justice in this World

You walk down the street, turn right and then suddenly, boom, you get raped by a bear. A real bear mind. Not one of those anthropomorphic ones that are all cute and cuddly and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or some other shit. No, a real honest to goodness bear, with claws and sharp teeth, and paws that are all over you. Bit of a dampener on your day. One minute, minding your own business, maybe whistling a tune, maybe wondering whether or not to get a latte from that hipster coffee shop on the corner, when suddenly a wild animal is inside of you and no-one is stopping to help. Why would they. Why get involved. It’s a bear. They’re dangerous. And it was your fault, the cops say. You were asking for it, walking down the street, stepping on all the cracks and lines. Everyone knows to keep on the squares, you stupid cunt. Practically had a sign on your back saying “Free Use”. And so that’s it. Now you’re forever the guy who fucks bears. Your girlfriend can’t take it. Every time she looks at you, she wonders if you fucked that bear or if the bear fucked you. Eventually she leaves and you start to get depressed. Your friends stop hanging out because they just want to have fun and you moping in the corner at the party is bringing everyone down. So, your grades start to suffer and your parents are on your back and you drop out. You don’t know what you’re going to do instead but you drop out. You drink. You take drugs. You sleep around. Anything to try and numb the pain of being raped by that bear. And then one night, you can’t take it anymore. You climb up on an overpass and you’re going to do it. You’re going to jump. But someone driving by stops. They get out and talk to you. They tell you it will be all right. Nothing that has gone before matters. You can start living your life from now. You can start living for yourself. They take you to AA and you sober up. You get a job. You make new friends. You start to feel good about yourself. But you still have those nightmares, about the bear. Its fetid breath on the back of your neck as it takes you. Its low growls ringing in your ears as you wake up drenched in sweat. So you go to therapy and it helps. You decide to take back control of your life. To stop letting this one incident define you. So you buy a gun and you go out to the woods hunting. You set up a hide and you wait and soon enough, a bear comes into view and you aim your rifle and you exhale your breath and you slide your finger along the trigger. But it’s no use, you can’t take the shot. You’ve never killed anything before. You just watch the bear as it snuffles around and eats the bait you set. And as you watch that bear, you begin to get a little hard and then you feel ashamed and start to wonder if maybe it was all your fault. If maybe it was you that was asking for it. That maybe you wanted that bear to fuck you after all. And then you remember how it felt. How much pain you were in and how you begged for it to stop. And then you get angry and you line up your rifle and you do it. You pull the trigger and you take the shot and the bear whines as it falls and then you feel sad. You killed it. You killed that bear. But you also feel like you have all this power that you didn’t have before. Like a weight has been lifted and now you can do anything. So you decide you’ll take a trophy to remind yourself that you are in control. And you gut the bear and bleed it and take it back to your truck. But there’s people there, waiting for you. They’re protesting. They spit at you and call you a murderer and ask you what that poor bear had ever done to you. And you have no answer and you begin to cry and someone takes a photo of you with the dead bear, crying, and puts it on social media. And it goes viral. Sad crying guy who killed a bear. And then someone recognizes you and you go even more viral, sad crying guy who killed a bear after getting fucked by a bear. Now everyone thinks it a little strange, fucking a bear and then killing a bear. Everyone thinks you really are into bears. Your new friends don’t want anything to do with you and you get depressed again. You start to drink. You lose your job. You’re back up on that bridge again, getting ready to end it all. No-one sees you this time. No-one stops. And so you jump. But you don’t die. Now you’re in hospital and your back is broken. Someone comes to see you. It’s the bear that raped you. He brought flowers. He says he’s been thinking about you a lot recently. Saw you in the news. Says he is sorry for what he did. Says he is a different bear now. Says he has found God. Asks for your forgiveness. You cry and tell him that he ruined your life and are about to scream at him to go. But then you don’t. You feel that weight being lifted again. You accept his apology. You forgive him. He cries. He thanks you. He says he’s sorry again. You reach out for him to hug you. He leans over, resting his paws on your shoulders and gives them a little pat. You lean up, as best you can with your broken back, and you kiss him. You kiss the bear on his furry muzzle. At first he pulls away in surprise. But then he leans in again and kisses you back. And he slips his big bear tongue into your mouth and you’re kissing the bear that raped you. And even you don’t know anymore whether you wanted that bear or not. But you want him now. You want him because he’s all you’ve got. This is what you’ve come to. This is how pathetic you are. Sad crying guy who killed a bear after getting fucked by a bear and who now wants to fuck bears.