patrick.net

“Maybe I was, but all of you just don’t understand what I’ve been going through lately! It’s not just losing dad or dealing with the paperwork and legal stuff…”

Janet frowned slightly. Actually, she had been the one dealing with all the paperwork and legal stuff.

“…but there’s the trauma of being a rape survivor too!”

This was news to everyone at the table. Psycho Dish now directed his look to Janet, who was wearing an expression that somehow managed to combine concern and skepticism. It did not escape his notice that the revelation was followed by a long pause, into which a response was obviously intended to fall. He found himself very glad that his older sister was the one who had to deliver it.

“Oh, Chris, why didn’t you tell us anything about this before? We’re your family! We’ll always stand by you! Did you tell anyone else? What did the police say?”

Psycho Dish didn’t know what would come next; he knew only that he dreaded it.

“No. I was too embarrassed and afraid to tell anyone! And nobody would have done anything about it even if I did!”

“But that’s not true at all! The police would have…”

“The police wouldn’t have done anything! They couldn’t!”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because the man who raped me was…” here, Chrissy lowered her voice and seemed near tears. “…it was Donald Trump.”

Janet’s next words were calm and measured, but her tone made it obvious that the skepticism had started to overtake the concern.

“Donald… Trump? You mean, as in… the President?”

“Yes, him.”

Janet is a mathematician and a programmer. It’s in the blood. Psycho Dish’s family history is filled with respectable engineers who married crazy artists. Everyone in the family fits into one of those two types somehow. In his generation, the two older children grew up respectable and studious, the two younger ones unstable and artistic. The divide between them hung like thick smoke in the long pause that had followed. Chrissy had always been into New Age spirituality, crystals, and meditation in addition to having a troubled relationship with reality that had lasted her whole life. Janet had always thought in algorithms and equations, and outside of church took life about as literally as it could be taken. He saw her struggling to come up with some explanation for what she had just heard that her exceptionally rational mind could process. After a few seconds that seemed much longer, she came up with one.

“So you mean… twenty or thirty years ago?”

It seemed at least plausible; certainly to a group of women whose outraged reactions to Trump’s “Grab ’em by the pussy” comments of long ago had lit up Psycho Dish’s Facebook timeline for weeks on end.

“No, I mean now! Recently! Since he became President!”

Psycho Dish now turned toward Cindy and saw her staring off into the distance, as if she was looking at something far away that wasn’t really visible. And he knew exactly what it was – Michigan, where she was no doubt very much wishing she was at that moment. Psycho Dish wished he was in Michigan, too – or in Bora Bora, or in Swaziland, or in Purgatory, or literally anywhere other than that dinner table. She got very slightly up out of her chair, extended a boardinghouse reach across the table to a near-full bottle of wine, yanked it back to her seat, and filled a glass almost to the brim.

Janet continued in a polite tone of voice: “But Chris, I… I don’t like him any more than you do, but I don’t really see how that’s possible. I mean, he’s surrounded by the Secret Service 24/7, and I don’t think he’d really be able to slip away to… do something like that.”

“See?! I knew you wouldn’t believe me! You’ve always been like that! You’re not able to see all the ways that someone like that bastard could do something like this!”

Janet seemed increasingly desperate: “Then please, Chris, help me to understand. Tell me what he did.”

Chrissy’s expression told Psycho Dish that she knew it was time for the killshot: “He used astral projection.”

Janet hadn’t changed her expression yet, but when she continued, her voice sounded like an old cassette tape that had been slowed down.

“Assss… trallll… pro…ject… ion…”

“Yes! Right into my bedroom! While I was sleeping!”

Janet suddenly looked relieved. Her rational mind had thought of another explanation for all of this.

“Well, dear, I think that may only have been a dream, don’t you?”

“NO! Not if it’s happening over and over again, every single night!”

A good sister will always come in for the save when things get bad. Cindy is a good sister, and took over momentarily from the flabbergasted Janet.

“So you’re saying that the President of the United States is astrally projecting himself into your bedroom every night to rape you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!”

“And how long has this been going on?”

“Since the election!”

“That was two years ago. So Donald Trump has astrally raped you every night for two years?”

“Yes, he has.”

https://antidem.wordpress.com/2019/01/18/psycho-christmas/