Kindness Matters (Until It Doesn’t)

READ SHORT STORY BELOW (about 2000 words)

Regardless of what you thought of him, 17 was too young to die.

And irrespective of whether his death was a murder or suicide, or whether either was accidental, the circumstances were reflective of what his late life represented: a paradox.

Apparently, Devin was his closest friend. And it was Devin’s abuse video that propelled the deceased into the limelight before his death. However, a case could be made that the deceased had no real friends at all, other than a large circle of connections who shared similar views, most of who did not live locally. Nevertheless, Devin was close enough in association to have recorded the videos that have now been widely viewed online and on TV. Including the one taken in the same place where, three months later, the fatal incident occurred. But of course, among his final posts leading up to the fateful day, the deceased posted that cryptic message: “Just say no to Devin.”

With all that has come to be revealed since his death, more questions than answers remain. Even his name has become somewhat ambiguous.

Local kids and his neighbors knew him as Trent.

His social media handle, “flitfreak,” is how the online world knew him.

But the school records, newspaper articles and police reports listed him as Randolph Trinsom. It was widely whispered that he adopted his middle name as how he wanted to be known. But there was never any mention of his full name in the media. So, there’s no confirmation that “Trent” was indeed part of his real name, at all.

Further, Trent either told someone about sealed court records regarding his previous life, or someone made it up because that was part of the rumor mill: “Trent” was a new identity. Devin said he wasn’t aware of sealed records, but some suspected Devin was the source of the rumor, as well as some of the other points circulating as hearsay.

You could say everyone has an opinion about Trent. Whether you believe that his whole tragedy was driven by a desire for fame, or not, it’s clear he achieved a moment of it.

The only ones not commenting were his parents. It seems they left their house and workplaces when the incident hit the news. If it hadn’t been for the Police Chief expressing his condolences to the family on TV and relaying that they had asked the public to respect their privacy, you wouldn’t know he had a family.

The media circus was a first-hand lesson for those in the local community of just how misleading a story can become. Even though tidbits came to light that provided broader context, such info was not indicative of local sympathies and emphasized points that were out of touch.

For example, few found it surprising that neighbors were not supportive. One nearby neighbor was videotaped by a reporter stating he had asked the kid several times a few years earlier to stop shooting rocks at his dog with his slingshot, before finally bringing the matter to the attention of Trent’s father, which put an end to the incidents.

Another was quoted in an article saying the kid was “weird.”

Another said the boy was “sick upstairs.”

A widely-shared article quoted Mr. Peterson, who was an insurance adjuster with two daughters in the same school: “This is a good neighborhood. People respect and help each other. Who the heck wants to see a drugged-out teenage boy parading around like a girl?” Although some opinions in the national discourse cited this as an example of hate-mongering, the response on social media to Mr. Peterson was predominantly positive.

The national debate could be broadly categorized into two narratives: The plight of a teenager trying to find himself in a culture antipathetic to nonconformist or non-binary genders. Or, that of a troubled kid who once expressed support of school mass shooters and who, earlier on, seemed to hate everything and everyone not connected to video games.

What was agreed by both camps was that Trent went through some changes between his freshman and sophomore years. That was when he adopted a goth look and posted why he understood some kids would make a stand for themselves and “shoot things up,” especially “starting with those who were the meanest.” There were a lot of anti-everything posts that year, including anti-police, anti-politicians, anti-government, anti-rules, anti-parents and anti-school.

He posted on and off throughout the school year but amped up in his junior year. In fact, that was the year of even greater change. No matter which of the two general narratives invited your sympathy (or antipathy), both highlighted that Trent started his YouTube channel halfway through his junior year.

On video, his earlier anti-everything theme was replaced by a more focused antipathy for transgressions against animal rights. Further, he espoused his support for women’s rights and vegetarianism. He also routinely shared articles and celebrity messages for related causes and discussed them on video.

But he had too few followers to hear him and he largely languished by himself in his room with a laptop and webcam.

Things changed his last summer when he started posting videos about LGBTQ rights. That topic helped him find an audience and his videos began to gain traction. By the end of that summer, before his senior year, and seemingly empowered by the response he was gaining online, he started dressing like a girl and his online following accelerated. This was also when it became apparent he had a drug problem and where the dual narratives emerged.

A case was made that he craved attention and that cross-dressing was a way to gain recognition. The drug use was opined as a way to assuage his false identity and a decline into personal degradation.

But a counter-case was made that his opioid addiction was a result of trying to find himself in a society that only approves of those who find their way along paths that are socially sanctioned.

When he was busted for selling drugs at one of the local truck stops the word also started circulating that he was prostituting himself to support his habit. The official records state the charges were dropped due to insufficient evidence, but the rumor was also out that he had become an informant.

Of course, when he went viral in a bigger way, he started making enough money that the notion of needing to sell drugs or engage in prostitution seemed less a necessity than a choice, especially when he was living at home and had few expenses.

Some still speculate that he engineered the video that made him an internet personality, conceding that whatever he originally intended as a ploy for attention got out of hand. Others say that the incident is obviously legit and that no one would plan that level of violence against themselves, although the perpetrators did get away. The now-famous video shows two persons following Devin, who is walking towards the truck stop restaurant at night. The two unidentified assailants were wearing hoodies and masks.

Just before they reached the brightly lit entrance, the two assailants tore off Trent’s dress, punched him in the face and gut before he fell to the pavement. Then they proceeded to kick and spit on him before walking back into the dark of the night towards dozens of parked tractor-trailers.

The fact that there was an overhead camera at the restaurant was no surprise. However, the fact that Devin was inside the restaurant recording the whole thing through the window while waiting for Trent is what makes some people dubious of the incident’s legitimacy. Why was Devin filming in the first place? Furthermore, the video starts with the subjects far away and in the dark. It could be anyone. How did Devin know it was Trent?

Of course, the police had plenty of questions since they talked to Devin for several hours before releasing him.

Devin’s social media response was that even though you can’t tell who is in the darkness at the beginning of the video, in real life he knew it was Trent because they arranged it in advance — except he was supposed to be by himself. Furthermore, Devin defended his actions by stating that he recorded Trent doing all kinds of mundane stuff, in addition to the scripted and unscripted segments that Trent asked Devin to help him with for his YouTube channel. Devin even posted such videos of Trent to prove the point: Clips of Trent prancing around in a local park, hanging out in the same truck stop, dancing in front of the school entrance, or in the middle of a street, etcetera.

Devin received a lot of social media scrutiny after Trent’s death. Some were saying Devin was complicit in the violent viral video. Others were saying Devin was a drug dealer, pointing to Trent’s terse post: “Just say no to Devin.”

A few even speculated that Devin was involved with the death, regardless of whether it was a murder, a suicide, or accidental. Devin was quick to respond by declaring he was at the skate park at the time and that the police had reviewed security footage verifying that to be true. (Technically, he could have still done it, although the time window was short). Devin also said he would never agree to a staged video that included real violence, especially a suicide, and also stated he didn’t do drugs, but conceded he knew Trent did.

In his final six months, Trent would end his written posts with #KindnessMatters and conclude his videos with the same. During this period he was getting enough YouTube views to eat out and buy clothes.

He was discovered at dawn by a jogger who observed the body at the base of the five-level parking garage in town. It was determined Trent died the night before from a broken neck, a consequence of falling from the top of the garage.

The coroner ruled the death “consistent with a fall.” The toxicology report showed trace amounts of drugs in his blood — enough to impair but not enough to incapacitate. And not enough to silence a scream. But there had been no scream reported.

The town wanted closure, but Trent had always been the kind of story that refused to end neatly. Even in death, he seemed to disrupt.

His YouTube channel was shut down after the funeral, a move said to be requested by his parents. But not before digital activists scraped and archived every video, every comment, every clip of him crying or laughing or raging into the webcam. And in that digital mosaic, a different kind of Trent emerged — not just the confused, angry kid or the radical empath, but a contradiction of both. A teenager on fire described as both burning passion and burning out.

His cryptic final message — “Just say no to Devin” — remains enigmatic. Some say it was a betrayal, a final middle finger to the only person who had stuck around. Others believe it was a cry for help, a warning, an attempt to set the record straight before it was buried in internet takes and schoolyard rumors.

Devin hasn’t posted since the day of the funeral. His last upload was a poorly lit video of Trent at the infamous diner, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. No makeup, no dress — just Trent in a hoodie, talking about how the fries were the “best damn thing in this town.” The video was captioned simply: “He wasn’t a symbol. He was my friend.”

There’s a mural now, hastily painted on the side of the recreation center. It’s a stylized portrait of Trent, mid-laugh, with #KindnessMatters in bold beneath it. It’s already been vandalized twice. One time, someone painted a halo above his head. The second time, someone scratched out his eyes.