Complex Kimberly

the story of a white woman

This is a story about a white woman.

I can’t believe he killed Janie. She tried to make her body as flat as possible, barely allowing herself to peek down the stairs. From the sound of it, the killer was somewhere in the kitchen. Janie was dead. Sure, she was a bit of a slut, and nobody gave a shit about her stupid podcast, but that didn’t mean she deserved to die.

Going down the list, Kimberly couldn’t believe how many of her classmates were dead. Brody—the class clown; Marcus—captain of the football team, whose talent for poetry only became known after he’d been impaled on the goalpost, Jarvis—the black student.

Now, at the top of the staircase in her house, the only person standing between her and the killer was Max. She didn't know much about Max before her friends started dying, and she really didn't know all that much about him now, either. His face wasn't very memorable. He was either mostly quiet during class or not in her class at all; she couldn't remember. He was also flat against the wall, staring down at the first floor, waiting for any sign of movement.

Kimberly sneezed, alerting the killer. While she was paralyzed by fear, the killer ran up the stairs, seeming to glide over each step. He lifted his hand to lunge the knife into her heart. She closed her eyes, remembering she hadn’t done her geography homework. She expected getting stabbed in the chest to hurt much more. She opened her eyes—Max stood between her and the killer. Max had stopped the knife from penetrating her by blocking it with his own hand. The killer, himself momentarily paralyzed, didn’t react in time. Max started punching the killer with his free hand. The two tussled and fell down the stairs. Kimberly watched helplessly.

Both men lay on the ground. Were they dead? No, there was movement.

“Kimberly, I’ve been stabbed, and I think my back is broken,” said Max.

She approached the killer. She needed to know who it was. She pulled at the mask, lifting it slowly. The first thing that removing the mask revealed was how perfectly mewed his jawline was. She let her finger slide against his cheekbone as she continued to remove the mask. He had dimples. His lips were full, his hair brown, thick and luscious, his eyes icy blue.

“Hi,” she said, staring at him.

“Hi,” he said back.

He was the cutest boy Kimberly had ever seen. He looked just like Matt Rife if Matt Rife was even cuter and better at looksmaxxing.

“Please help me,” said Max, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

Kimberly ignored Max and could hear police sirens cutting through the night.

“Shit, we’ve got to get you out of here,” said Kimberly.

The killer smiled. He had such gorgeous lips and nice teeth.

“It’s okay, I’m not afraid. I’m busted up pretty good, so I don’t think I’ll be able to escape. Will you write to me while I’m in jail?”

She leaned in to kiss him, but before her lips could touch his thick, juicy suckers, the police kicked in the door and pumped him full of bullets. Even dead, he was the hottest boy she had ever seen.

“You need to go to school.”

"Are you friggen retarded?" Kimberly said to her mom. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm depressed, and if you trigger me one more time by saying I have to go to school, I'm going to kill myself, and it's going to be your fault, you stupid cow."

It had been a week without Jacob. That was his name. He was a boy from a school down the road. After the cops murdered him, his house was searched, and various journals were found. Oh, what she would do to get her hands on them. He was sure to be deep and complex. She missed him and resented her mom.

After three weeks, her threats of killing herself no longer worked, so she acquiesced to her mother’s orders. Before going to school that day, she took forty selfies until she was satisfied she looked sad enough. She uploaded it to her Instagram stories with the caption: "Janie, I miss you so much. You were my best friend.”

She wore a bright pink halter top, a white skirt, and knee-high boots.

When she entered the campus and realized everyone was looking at her, she knew she had to upload a story:

I'm just so overwhelmed by emotions. This was so traumatic. I literally lost three of my best friends. I can't believe my mom is making me go to school. I'll probably have to take a day or two weeks off because I'm so traumatized. Miss you, Janie. Don't even ask me; I don't want to talk about it.

Several student protestors were blocking most of the walkways throughout the quad. There were always people protesting something; Kimberly didn’t understand why they couldn’t just get a life, like for real.

She showed up twenty minutes late to her geography class, taught by that retard Mr. Palladino who kept asking her stupid questions about Africa. She hated him ever since he gave her an F on her report: Why Africa is My Favorite Country. She complained to the administration that bigots shouldn't be in teaching positions. He said nothing as she walked into class and sat down, but everyone in class was looking at her. She was thinking about future Instagram stories to post.

The only available seat was next to some really ugly guy in a wheelchair that took up a lot of space. On the one hand, she felt bad for him, but on the other hand, it wasn't her fault, and he should really learn to fix his mistakes. She pulled out her phone and tried to focus, but after a few minutes, she realized he wouldn't stop staring at her.

“Kimberly,” he whispered.

“What the hell do you want?” she said.

“Kimberly, it’s me, Max.”

That name meant nothing to her.

“I haven’t seen you since getting stabbed.”

“No offense, but plenty of people have been stabbed. Do you think you’re special?”

"We were on the staircase together. I fought off the killer. I know you probably have PTSD; I do, too. I just wanted to say if you ever feel like talking, I'm happy to listen."

“First of all, don’t mansplain me. Second, how dare you. I was being polite at first, but you’re like, really pissing me off. You’re like, literally the ugliest guy I’ve ever seen. If you don’t stop, I’m going straight to the counselor; this is harassment.”

The classroom door opened, and two people came in. One of them was some loser student who did administrative work in place of an elective, but next to him was the hottest guy Kimberly had ever seen.

“I found him wandering around campus; I think he’s meant to be in this class,” said the fucking loser.

"Class is almost over, son, but welcome, what's your name?" asked that retard Palladino.

“My name is Rudolph Heller,” he said.

His accent was so sexy. He had bleached blonde hair and was wearing a T-shirt that said Free Palestine. He was the most beautiful man in the world.

“Where can I sit?” Rudolph asked

You can sit on my face, she thought to herself. She wanted to tear him out of his clothes, ask where he was from, and find out what Palestine was.

During lunch, the number of protestors increased. The entire quad was full of people waving flags of white, green, and red. The colors reminded her of that one time she had astral traveled. Her soul journeying were just one of the many things that made her such a complex person. It was also a reason she had trouble relating with normies. Rudolph, the new boy, was standing on one of the tables. His aura was magnetic. Everyone was entranced by him, and his voice projected so well without needing a megaphone.

“Ve must stop ze Zionists!” he shouted.

“We must stop the Zionists!” his followers responded.

“Ve must protect ze people of Palestine from ze greedy, dirty Zionists!”

Kimberly had never heard of Zionists before, but they sounded hella scary. She used to think it was lame to give a shit about something, but when she saw how passionate Rudolph was and how it riled up all those around her, she found it kind of hot.

At dinner, she decided to ask her dad what Palestine was. She usually came to her mom with these kinds of questions, but her mom was friggen retarded, and she was still pissed at her for making her go to school.

“Daddy, what’s Palestine?” she asked.

“Some shithole in the Middle East,” he said. “Now honey, I don’t want that kind of talk at the dinner table.”

They said grace and ate their meal. She understood the only way she'd get answers was by talking to Rudolph. Then she realized she hadn't even thought about Jake, the killer, that entire day. Honestly, compared to Rudolph, he was so fugly and cringe.

At school, it was hard to get Rudolph alone. Despite being the new kid, he always had no fewer than five loyal followers on his heels. They were never separated. But Kimberly had something he didn’t— 607 followers on Instagram, the third highest number in the whole school. She approached them.

“What’s the deal with Palestine?” she asked.

“Do you vant to know about ze Palestine?” asked Rudolph.

“Very much,” she said.

“Come mit me zen,” he said. “Boyz, I leave for five minuten.”

“Jawohl,” they answered.

Kimberly walked with Rudolph at her side. He walked with one hand firm behind his back. His confidence was arousing.

"So, where are you from anyway?" she asked.

“Braunau am Inn,” he answered.

"Oh yeah, I think I've heard of that. That's somewhere like—”

“Austria,” he said.

“Have you ever been to Paris?”

“Ja,” he said.

“Have you seen Dune?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“Me neither.”

They momentarily walked in silence past the basketball courts. Rudolph stopped for a moment to observe the school’s tall athletes. He scoffed before continuing his walk.

“Palestine,” said Kimberly. “What does it all mean?

Rudolph stopped in his tracks and let his gaze meet hers. It was the first time he looked directly into her eyes, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

“Come mit me,” he said, holding out his hand.

His hand enveloped hers, and he led her far away to somewhere she'd never been before— the far side of the campus near the vegetable fields where the special education trailers were located. They sat down together, the smell of cilantro permeating the air and making her feel nauseous.

“I need your assurance you are ready. After I show you vat I vill show you, zer is no turning back,” he said.

“I’m ready,” she said.

He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. She felt the weight of something important in her hand.

Human rights violations by Israel against Palestinians.

The first thing she noticed was that it was spelled Israel, whereas she always thought it was spelled Isreal. If she was wrong about that, then what else was she wrong about?

So much information flowed before her: the Zionist project, village closures, targeted assassinations, the blockade of the Gaza Strip, population transfers and deportation, collective punishment, house demolitions, organ harvesting, rapes, the murder of journalists, nearly 50,000 dead Palestinians dead since October 7^th…….on it went. She couldn’t take it anymore. She was going to post the saddest Instagram story anyone had ever seen.

“How can I help?” she asked.

“Find me ze Jewish students; I vill do ze rest.”

Kimberly spent the next eight and a half hours at home trying to get herself sad enough so she could upload a really depressing story, but she didn’t like how she looked. She was too confused to be sad. Growing up, her dad had always told her Jews were bad but that Muslims were worse, but now she was discovering that Jews were actually worse. She knew someone as hot as Rudolph wouldn't lie to her. She couldn't believe in a world where Liam Payne was dead, and Niall Horan wasn't, that something so terrible could be taking place in the world.

She saw images of bombed-out schools and hospitals, fathers carrying their children’s lifeless bodies, naked prisoners put in humiliating positions. She was finally sad enough for her Instagram story.

She arrived at school the next day with the colors of the Palestinian flag painted on her face. Everyone was looking at her. Before people thought she was just the really smart, really popular, unbelievably hot girl, but now they saw she was an activist and cared about things that mattered.

In class, that pathetic loser Max wouldn't stop staring at her.

“I didn’t know you cared so much about the Palestinian cause,” he said.

“That’s a really rude assumption of you,” she said.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I’m part of a youth organization that collects money to donate to Palestinians for food, medicine, etc.”

She looked at him and felt he had to be full of shit. There was something about his face she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“What’s your last name again?” she asked.

“Silverstein,” he said.

“Are you Jewish?” she asked.

“Guilty,” he smiled.

“What makes you think you have the right to talk to me about Palestine?” she asked.

“What?”

“Why should I let someone Jewsplain me when kids are dying?”

“Whoa, whoa there, easy,” he said. “My family and I are extremely anti-Zionist. Not all Jews support the state of Israel, and those who do should be ashamed of themselves.”

Kimberly had to immediately tell Rudolph she'd found a Jew hiding in plain sight. She got up to leave.

“Kimberly where are you going?” asked Mr. Palladino.

“None of your business, Zionist pig,” she said.

She returned to class with Rudolph and five of Rudolph’s loyal crew. They lifted Max out of his wheelchair and pulled him out of class. No one ever saw him again.

Kimberly found out she was really good at identifying Jewish students. She would point them out to Rudolph, and he and his boys would remove them from class, gym, or the cafeteria. For every Jew she got rid of, she imagined she had to be saving at least fifty Palestinian lives.

"We're making such a huge difference," she told Rudolph when it was just the two of them alone outside the Panera Bread.

“Kimberly, I have somezing to tell you,” Rudolph said.

“What is it?” she said.

“My name isn’t actually Rudolph, it’s Adolf.”

"That's totally cool," she said. "I don't mind. When I was twelve, I told everyone to call me Tiffany. My parents even went along with it, but I kept forgetting to respond when they would yell 'Tiffany,' so I got over it and was Kimberly again."

“Very cool,” he said. “I’m also not sixteen.”

“Well, how old are you?” she asked.

“Very old,” he said.

“You can tell me.”

“I’m 134 years old,” he said.

“I think my grandpa is around that old,” she said. “But I don’t think it’s an issue. My dad is like, way older than my mom, and you look really good.”

“Ja ja, very good. But I need to tell you zis. My time here is done. I must return to Germany.”

“I thought you said you were Australian?”

“Nein, German. I have business to attend to.”

“Can you take me with you?”

“Nein.”

“But I love you.”

“I know,” he said. “But my heart belongs only to Germany.”

“But what about Palestine?”

“I don’t give a fuck about Palestine; I just really hate Jews. You’ve been very useful for me. It’s been almost one hundred years since I had to fake mein own deaz, run away to Argentina, and develop ze science to keep my body young and fit. I have assembled enough men to come mit me to retake Germany and finish vat I started. The war is far from over. I never signed a peace treaty.”

“You can’t leave me!”

She tried to grab his hand, but he just walked away. The fact that he just walked away without even looking at her or saying goodbye made him so much hotter.

She went home and uploaded a thousand stories that night. She told her mom that if she didn’t buy her a new car, she was going to kill herself. She gave herself a really short and edgy haircut. She decided she was going to be a bad bitch from that moment on. She couldn’t believe she had wasted so much time giving a shit about stupid Palestine.

Her bad bitch phase lasted for about a week. Then she decided to become a lesbian, but all the girls at her school were really fugly. She made a giant message about how she was going to delete her social media pages and didn’t want anyone to ask why. Two days later when she knew everyone was missing her, she resurrected them. She was going to start a new life.

EPILOGUE

Kimberly never fully got over Rudolph/Adolf. Other boys came and went, but he was the best of them. She tried several identities for herself, but none of them stuck. She decided in the end to convert to Islam. She Googled ‘Muslim communities near me’ and found several links for The Nation of Islam.

When she attended the first meeting, everyone there was black. She was really scared, but then she saw the hottest black guy she’d ever seen. His name was Jay Jay Abrums. They talked after the first meeting.

“Look,” he said. “You a white bitch, but you fine as hell. I can’t officially be seen with you but let me hit it a couple times and I’ll be able to clear it with the others.”

Despite Jay Jay being really hot, he was no Adolf.

At the age of thirty-five, she would go down in history for multiple milestones. She became not just the youngest president ever elected but the first female and first Muslim president of the United States. She had asked Jay Jay to be her husband and come with her to Washington, but he said “Nah, it aint even like that.”

She kept her composure, but deep down, she was a really complex person. She stacked the supreme court with like-minded complex individuals, but none of them were as complex as she was. Congress had also demonstrated complete loyalty to her. On day one of her presidency she halted all foreign aid programs.

Around the time of Kimberly’s ascent, she saw Adolf rising through the political ranks in Germany. If she couldn’t have him, nobody could. On day seven of her presidency, she launched two nukes at Berlin.