The Joke

“He thinks I’m the joke,” I said to the mirror.  “He will soon find out that I’m not the joke he thinks I am.  Soon the joke will be on him.” 

I gathered up my clothes and my school books and headed toward my car.  Harry had broken up with me the day before and had already started spreading rumors about me.  It had started with a few text messages followed by a few whispered conversations in the hallway. 

Harry didn’t know who he was messing with.  He didn’t know I had experience with revenge.  Didn’t know I had learned from the best in terms of how to enact my revenge.  My parents were the most vindictive people I had ever met and they had taught me everything I know.   

I could sling mud with the best of them and I had plenty of mud to sling.  Harry was a bit of a gossip and definitely a lightweight.  Two beers in and he was telling me things about his family.  I would never tell a soul.  As I threw my belongings into my car, I went back to Harry’s bedroom. 

All I had to do was get the box he had in his closet.  It had every secret I needed to enact my revenge.  I just couldn’t get caught.  As I scurried toward the door, I didn’t know my life was already in danger.  It didn’t come until later that night when the brick came flying through my window. 


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