Never Again - A Dramatic Narrative on Dexter

This post is for anyone and everyone still reeling from the series finale of "Dexter". As we try to move on and forget, let us remember the series for what it once was, rather than what it turned out to be.

Dexter is over.

When the credits rolled onto the screen, it hit me. This was it. No more Dexter, no more Deb, no more Batista or Quinn, etc. One of my favorite shows on television had come to an end.

It was hard, in that moment, to discern all the emotions that I was feeling. The end of a series, especially one as good as "Dexter" should feel like saying goodbye to an old friend. The end of an era. Once the credits started rolling signalling the end of the last episode, one should feel a sense of satisfaction. One might even say - closure.

In the case of "Dexter", I felt nothing but shafted!

Nothing made sense anymore, kinda' like how the final season made absolutely no sense. Why did he kill Deb? Why did he dump her body in the ocean like his other victims? Why didn't he go and meet Hannah and why did he leave Harrison with her? How did Batista and Quinn let him get away with murder? So many questions - why Dexter, why?!

I looked around my place. In the initial moments of a post Dexter world, it felt foreign and alien. I needed to get mind off this horribly unsatisfying series finale. The trailers had used the terms "explosive" to describe it. The series didn't end with an explosion, it limped to finish and fizzled out.

It was too much to take.

I went outside for some fresh air hoping to shake myself of "Dexter". I felt like I had just been stood up by someone that I had built such a long connection with. All the time and energy I had invested towards watching the show, getting to know the characters intimately, inviting them into my life - and for what? A final shot of Dexter with a beard! Working as a logger?! A speedy and forced finale with more plot holes than an episode of "Glee"? I couldn't take it!

I walked out onto the street and rather than immersing myself in the hustle-and-bustle of my neighborhood, all I could see were people walking past me in a similar state of confusion. Clearly, they were just as shell-shocked by the finale as I was. Everything felt so distorted. I had to sit on a nearby bench to process. A stranger came over and asked if I was okay, but I dared not give an answer. Dexter had shafted me, I would not allow myself to be shafted any further regardless of whether it was a fictional TV character or a real, living, breathing person.

Never again! I silently declared.

I hissed at the stranger. Onlookers stared at me confused by my bizarre outburst, some looked sympathetic because they understood what I was going through. Dexter had robbed me of a satisfying series finale. I was angry and now I was going to take out my vengeance on the world. With fire in my eyes, I ran down the streets roaring in frustration.

Damn you Dexter! Damn you!

I did not know where I was going, nor did I care. All I knew was that I needed to get away! I kept running until I hit a vast highway. It was dark and there was nothing but trees and bushes on all sides. I looked back and saw the lights of the city. So far away. A trucker passed by and the driver offered to give me a ride back to civilization, however when I saw his name-badge that read "Dexter", I screamed like a shrill beast and ran into the wild.

Never again!

That was all one week ago. I haven't returned to the city. Instead, I choose to remain hidden in the wild. This is my new home tucked away amidst the trees, bushes and greenery. I have made a new place for myself. My friends are now the roots of the trees, the prick of the leaves, the snapping of twigs and the worms and insects that surround me. I have now become one with them. I feel safe and protected from any further unsatisfying finales. Most of my nights are sleepless as I try to overcome the trauma of  that final episode. At night, I lie awake and feel haunted with a single name reverberating through my psyche:

It calls out Dexter, Dexter, Dexter. It never stops.

On these nights, I will cautiously leave my new dwellings in the bushes and tentatively stare out at the city that was once my home. It feels so long ago now. I used to be one of those people that had an existence of city-life with a job, friends and the companionship of a great series revolving around an intriguing, complex and flawed main character.

Oh Dexter, how I miss what you used to be. At this point, I am forced to silence my thoughts. It is still too much to bear. Nothing matters anymore, not even my appearance. I have let my hair grow out and my beard now falls in a tangled mess past my chest. My clothes are in tatters, but I care not. I have become a savage which suits me just fine. What is the point of going back to my life, there will only be more disappointments. Sure, there are other shows like "Sons of Anarchy" and "Homeland", but the thought of being shafted by those series makes me want to cower back in my bush-hole.

Perhaps one day, I will return. But for now, the world is too cruel and disappointing for me to venture beyond the wild. In time, I will completely vanish from existence and memory with only hints of the man I once was. In my place, a new creature will emerge - one that is immune to all the disappointing series finales' the cruel world can hurl at me. One day I will have the armour to withstand such assaults to my expectations.

But for now, I remain in the wild. 

Shielded. Hidden. Guarded, but safe.