5 Triggers

There's always been the one who got away. They were perfect for you: you had compatible interests, sense of humor, even compatible kinks. You knew these things because you had been friends for years. You got closer and closer, and then suddenly it all went away. Your friend withdrew, with no explanation. Them being gone only intensified your desire, and you pined after the dead possibility of a relationship for months. Time heals all wounds, and eventually you thought of them less and less. One night, sick with fever, you dream of your one who got away. It's a wonderful dream, and you get to spend time with them again - until it ends. Reliving it makes you realizes exactly why they left. It was your fault. You drove them off, with your clumsy, lovesick advances. The realization wakes you up. It also wakes up your passenger.

You’ve always been a bit clumsy. You drop things, bump into people, and knock things over. It’s your least favorite thing about yourself, and even though you always laugh it off, inside you simmer and boil with frustration. You finally decide to do something about it, and make an appointment with a physical therapist who specializes in fine motor control improvement. You’re on your way, and as you go to cross the street, you trip over a curb. A bus rushes around the corner and runs over your leg, still in the street. The pain and irony causes you to trigger.

You’re used to the high life, but you’ve fallen on hard times, lost your job at the bank. The transition has been extremely hard on your psyche, and you can’t quite get used to not having enough money. You take out loans to keep up your spending habits. In order to try and emulate your old standard of living, you go out for fondue one night. At the end of the night, the waiter hands you the bill, and you realize you don’t have enough money. As you go to hand him your card, in a fit of rage, you knock over the pot of boiling oil. The hot liquid scorches your waiter’s hands, and in complete shock at your actions and still focused on the embarrassment of being poor, you trigger.

You are on the playground during recess. You and your friends are throwing rocks to see who’s the strongest. None of you thought too hard about it. Unfortunately, the responsible adult staff doesn’t approve. One of the teachers runs up to scold you, and you beam them in the head. The rock doesn’t hit too hard, but she starts bleeding, and doesn’t stop. She falls to the ground. You trigger as you realize what you’ve done.

You lie and cheat and steal to get what you want, but it’s OK. It’s OK because what you want will help everyone by curing disease. You eventually make it to the top of the company, and are ready to do a much better job at designing pharmaceuticals than anyone else could, to make all the misdeeds worth it. On your way to work, with a report about lowering prices of drugs in your briefcase, you see a homeless man on the side of the road. You recognize him. It’s your fault he’s there. You started rumors about crimes he never committed, and he was fired. He recognizes you too, and stands up. You yell, argue, and just as you realize that nothing could ever be worth what you did, he swings a fist at your face. Trigger.