Tyrant Eliza

- This is a work of fiction -

Eliza wasn't real.

I have made that statement obvious, for I do not wish for you to believe that I am still troubled by her.

There is no need to fear me now, for the past is the past, and I have changed for the better.

But the times with Eliza were bittersweet.

It all started six years ago in high school, when I first fell in love with a girl. It was high school, and puppy lovers were everywhere; everyone had raging hormones and reveled in the short-term pleasure of masturbation. Me too, cause I have always been a very healthy person. I met this girl; a classmate, whose beauty was unrivaled. She was my destiny. I just had to kiss her.

I would've done that if we were anything more than just friends. Well, I'm actually glad that I was thrown into the friend zone, for I wouldn't have a story to tell otherwise. I was her best friend, helping her go through her tumultuous relationship with some famous dude who only wanted to fuck her. That dude was so fucking pretentious, masking his perverted face with forced smiles and spitting out cheesy jokes and trying his damnedest not to stare at her breasts.

But she liked him. Why didn't she like me? I was the nice guy. I thought girls love nice guys? 

Was I too nice?

Maybe. I started to doubt myself. I stared at my own reflection in the mirror. I reevaluated my personality, and I realized that I was a fundamentally flawed person. I had shitty social skills and zero confidence in myself, that's why I had no friends. Too bad my hormones were still there, though.

I told myself that I will change.

I stopped replying to her messages, I deliberately ignored her in class, and I refused to even think of her as a human being. Okay, the last point sounds pretty fucked up, but that's because I've superimposed her appearance, personality and soul onto this imaginary being named Eliza.

So Eliza has been following me around... not that it was a very interesting thing to do, since I literally had no social life. The most notable thing that happened during the first few days with Eliza was when she looked at me when I masturbated. She liked it. I liked it too. It felt good.

Masturbation did get boring when it became routine. I needed friends, but I was scared. But then I look into Eliza's eyes and I realized that I could never get to kiss anyone if I did not improve my social skills. Eliza has always been a reminder that my first love preferred a lustful dude who only wanted to stick his dick into her, instead of someone as kind and loving as me.

The next day, I went to class with Eliza accompanying me, the usual. Except this time, Eliza kept dragging me off my seat and pushed me into the realm of strangers. It says a lot when I called my classmates of six months 'strangers'. At first, conversations were abso-fucking-lutely awkward, with me saying hi and them saying hi. They looked at me a little weird, then they continued talking among themselves, while I just listened and zoned out. I displayed no reaction to anything; not to jokes, not to gossips, and certainly not to the ongoing rumor that my first love has just lost her virginity.

On the next day, Eliza dragged me away from my seat again.

And the next. And the next. Nothing evolved beyond 'hi' and some weird glances directed towards Eliza and me.

One day, Eliza had a serious conversation with me in my room. She told me that my lack of social confidence was precisely the reason why my first love was unrequited. She encouraged me to practice maintaining conversations with her, and be more emotionally engaged in the conversed topics. 

So we talked and talked and talked and slept together.

I overslept and missed class the next day. The following day, the classroom strangers asked me, why were you absent yesterday?

I told them I spent the previous night honing my socialization skills with Eliza. They asked me, who? And I pointed at Eliza, sitting on the chair right in front of me.

And they were like, oh so that's "Eliza".

And in my heart I was like, shit, I fucked up.

But they all laughed. They thought it was a joke. And I thought, hey, that went a lot better than expected. Eliza was laughing too. I was confident for the first time in my life.

Over the months, the strangers became my friends, and I was commonly known as the joker in the group. How did I accomplish that? It was all thanks to Eliza, who spent two hours with me every night helping me fine-tune my humor.

Of course, there were times were I would fuck up and feel so bad about it, as I thought that my friends would hate me, such as the time when I accidentally said an offensive joke and two friends went off crying and the entire atmosphere changed. But Eliza told me, true friends would not mind the occasional fuck-ups, as long as you apologize afterwards, with sincerity, of course.

So I apologized. All went well. I graduated from high school with a handful of true friends that I still keep in contact with till this very day. I even apologized to my first love about ignoring her and all that, confessing to her the reason I did so. She understood and we left on good terms.

With that, I was even more grateful to Eliza for helping me grow.

In university, I had my first relationship with this other girl. To be honest, Eliza advised me against this relationship, but I wanted to kiss someone. So we dated and we made out. I felt bad, as I believed that I did not know how to sexually satisfy her. 

She offered to teach me, but I refused, as that would be a huge blow to my confidence. I mean, Eliza was already shaking her head in disgust when she saw how I used my tongue. There was once when Eliza forcefully pulled us apart. The girl was bewildered. I apologized and came up with the excuse that I had a bad stomachache and needed to use the washroom. I ran into the cubicle and wept. Eliza patted my back. I felt so embarrassed.

That night, with pornographic videos playing in the background, I made out with Eliza in my room.

The next day, the girl actually trembled in pleasure when I made out with her. It was working. Eliza saved my life. Over the next few days, we progressed from making out, to removing clothing, to me sucking her tits, to her sucking my dick; it all went by too fast.

It was eventual.

She told me she was ready to lose her virginity to me. My confidence shook, for I always had the assumption that sex was the ultimate intimacy session between two lovers. I was scared. What if I ruined her first time by giving her some shitty sex? What if I lasted less than two minutes? What if...

You can practice on me.

I was having the most fucked up dilemma of my life, you know? Eliza wasn't real, so it technically didn't count as me having cheated on my girlfriend... right?

It was all so fucking surreal, I tell you. Me. Fucking. Eliza. How the fuck?! I know it sounds stupid but I ejaculated inside her. Her vagina was so fucking tight that it hurt so much, yet the more it hurt the more I wanted to stab it into her.

I... don't know, okay? Gosh. We fucked for seven nights in a row. She taught me all I had to know about it. She made me a beast on bed. I was confident. I felt so fucking good.

So I went and told my girlfriend that I was ready. We fucked. I lasted less than two minutes.

She said it was okay. She still loved me for that. But I was fucking embarrassed, I tell you. I no longer had any dignity. I ran out of her room and never talked with her again. Fuck my life.

Eliza was waiting for me in my room. I ran to her and embraced her and fucked her. We spent the whole day fucking. Fuck toilet breaks, and human hunger, and dehydration, all I wanted was my dignity back.

We fucked for two days straight. It was so intense that I was bleeding all over.

And I blacked out.

I woke up on this hospital bed. The nurse informed me that I was in a coma for a day. She also told me that I broke my dick. I could never fuck again. I could never fuck again.

How the fuck would you feel? You understand me, don't y-you?

The nurse said I was found in my room, with the skin and flesh of my dick scraped off, and some veins popping out and shit. Also, it seemed... crooked?

I mean, yes, my dick is useless now, but that's not the point.

She said I have been fucking a hole in a mirror.

You get my point, right? She literally denied the existence of Eliza! How the flying fuck? Eliza... she was there, the whole damn time!

Eliza taught me how to fuck! Eliza taught me how to be human! Eliza changed my life, and yet...

The nurse Eliza denied the existence of Eliza.

But but but, my girlfriend certainly wouldn't, right? She loved me unconditionally, r-right? I ran to her place and told her about Eliza. I told her everything, how I have been honing my fucking skills with Eliza so that I could properly fuck my girlfriend Eliza. My girlfriend Eliza embraced me and told me that she Eliza is willing to live with me and Eliza and we will all be happy together.

And her mother Eliza came into the room and we all fucked each other and and and

Calm down. Please, keep yourself together! What happened to that high-and-mighty opening statement about Eliza not being real and you not being troubled by her anymore?

...

... I'm sorry. I got carried away. Please don't write about that outburst in my autobiography, I don't want the readers to know about it.

I mean, I want to inspire them, not scare them away. You understand me, don't you?

Yeah, I do. You apologized with sincerity, and that's all that matters. We all want this book to sell well, don't we? People like happy endings, no matter how contrived it is. 

People need role models, and you're going to be a great one.

T-thank you. S-so, back to the story... we all fucked each other, and I ran away, and I came across this abandoned house, and I've been living here for the past two years, going out to the streets to beg for food and money once every sometime.

Actually, I lied, we didn't fuck each other. I just ran like a coward after seeing so many Eliza's.

That's the end of it?

Yes.

Thank you for your time. It will be interesting to see how the readers respond to this story. But I gotta say, you're still pretty screwed in the head, aren't you?

Y-yeah... As much as it pains me to say it, I'm perhaps at the worst stage of my life now.

I'm sorry to hear that. But your book will change lives. Let us just go through the recorded interview we just did one more time, to see if there's any discrepancies in your story.

...

Okay, let me get this straight. You have been fucking a mirror this whole time, right? To be more direct, Eliza is a mirror, right?

Precisely.

Did your classmates in high school seriously laughed when you called the mirror that you brought every single day to school, Eliza?

Actually...

They didn't, right? They shunned you even more, talked behind your backs, and were generally even more afraid of you. It didn't help that you kept apologizing to them with a mirror by your side.

Y-yeah, that's true, but how do you kno-

Anyone would've been spooked out if someone brought a mirror to school every day and call it by a human name. Truly, you're one fucked up person, you know that? Trying to charm your readers with some innocent high school story, eh? That's really smart, you know.

... Sorry.

Sincere apology. I like it. Also, you didn't even fuck your girlfriend, right? She saw your bandaged dick and ran away.

... Please don't include that in the autobiography.

Well, it's okay, it's your story after all. 

Yeah, I know. Thanks, for everything, for being here for me, for being a true friend, for being my only friend...

Thank you... Eliza, what would I do without you?

Haha, we're all pretty fucked up eh, Eliza?

---

As I look around me, in this room of mirrors Eliza's, I see them applauding my bravery, my courage, my dignity.

And I feel good. :)