Along came Avery

5 0 . b i r t h d a y p l a n

I've concluded it all. After reading all the letters, even the ones that were cringe and for Avery's eyes only, I concluded all that I needed to.

It didn't make much sense the first time I concluded this yesterday when I took more time to think about it, especially when I considered a lot of things she had said to me before. Like, for instance, when she told me to make the promise that I'd take care of him? When she would try and convince me that he's a good person and he means no harm at all. Or what about the times that she would want us to be around each other? When she seemed in love with him, or would kiss him right in front of me that I would cringe just because I didn't like even a cell in his body. All of that? So why suddenly say that she hates him in these letters? Why warn me? That's what I didn't understand.

Until everything started making sense.

She loved him the one moment, shown in some of her letters, and then the next, she absolutely hated him. She says she loves everything about him, and then suddenly, she explains -- almost in detail -- how she hates him. What he has done to her. He has put her through a lot, emotionally and I can presume mentally as well. Was he abusive physically? I don't know, but I will find out today. He threatened her so much that she felt she had to stay in the relationship.

He had something to do with her death. It only makes sense.

I spent the whole day yesterday processing it, trying to make sense of it all. I spent the whole of yesterday crying my eyes out for being so deceived the way that I was. For five full years and a few months, I sat with so much guilt because I thought I did something unthinkable, when really he was the one who did it all. I tried piecing it all together and it all made sense.

He was with her last. He watched her die with me and he remained. Maybe he killed her first! She spent the day with him; for all I know, he could have been the one to force her to take those drugs and then... I don't know! All I know is that he was responsible. He is responsible. He did whatever he did. He really, truly knows what happened that day, or even the days leading to that day. What a coincidence that the day I am supposed to spend with her and leave to move to a whole different location, she dies. He did something, and I firmly believe this. He did all that, and then blamed it on me! He made me think I was the problem!

I don't know why he went to prison then, or what happened, but I know he was behind it all.

It all makes sense!

So, I wept. I wept and in me, anger started building like a cotton ball collecting dust. Because of my conclusion, I made the conscious decision to go out of my way and seek something that would teach him a lesson.

I pick up the small plastic transparent bottle that once held Michaela's pink sparkles she left in this box. I surely emptied it out and cleaned it well, before finding my way to the cleaning crew's locker room on the first floor. I found something beyond what I was looking for last night, and made sure to put just a good amount in this bottle.

Potassium Cyanide. It took me forever to find it in just a few hours, but I found a good pinch, and I intend to use it wisely.

He said it before. I took Michaela's life, and I should pay with my own. Now the tables have turned; he took hers, so he will pay with his in return.

I stand staring at myself in the bathroom mirror. My eyes are dark, even despite them being dark in colour. My make-up looks lovely, matching the black silk dress I'm wearing. Black, because I'll be attending his funeral. I am sure this is the last time I'll be wearing braids, as I plan to take them out. I've also told myself that this time around, I must pretend at all costs. He will be using his money on me, and I will make sure to enjoy every last cent spent on me, right up until I confront him. Either by words, or by watching him suffer. I've had it; I've made up my mind. I suffered because of him, he will feel my pain as well. For good, this time. I take a deep breath, gripping the tiny bottle and nod.