| C h a p t e r 2 |
Bloom Springs, California. It's the picture perfect town you see in magazines. The kind of town that almost looks perfect. You see, majority of the residents come from well-off families.
The problem with these kinds of towns is that no one understands what goes on inside.
Everyone fails to mention the rumours that spread like wildfire, or the fact that if you look or act the slightest bit differently, you're instantly the subject of gossip.
If there's one thing I've learned, it's that everyone is selfish and that they don't give a damn about what's going on at home.
To summarize, it's just a damn screwed up town with terrible people dwelling within :)
Sighing, I put my pen down, looking at what I just wrote. When my therapist told me to write down my thoughts, I seriously don't think she meant this.
I take a look around my bedroom which I've been cooped up in for the past twenty four hours since I got home.
My room isn't much. I have the smallest room in my house, but the reason why I love it so much is the window seat. When I was younger, I'd find solace in it. At that exact spot, my father and I would cuddle up and he'd tell me stories. After he left, it became my own little safe haven where I would sit and just read for hours on end, escaping from the torment that surrounded me.
Now, there's one other place that I can clear my head in, and I decide to visit it. I change into my favourite pair of body hugging black leggings with a white tank top. I grab my phone and a water bottle.
I let out a yawn, and all of a sudden, my jet lag makes my eyes feel droopy and heavy. Damn time zones!
My bed has never looked so inviting...
Maybe shutting my eyes for a couple minutes won't hurt.
No! I need to stay awake or I'll never get over my jet lag!
For some inexplicable reason, I sit down at my window seat and stare outside and across my street. Where he lives.
What's he doing right now? He's probably happier than ever with me gone.
My heart starts to speed up thinking about it as my eyes flutter shut against my own will.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Revenge
ChickLitWhen they were three, he chopped off her ponytails. When they were eight, he destroyed her dolls. When they were thirteen, he got his friends to beat her up and then threw her in the trash outside school. And the worst part? He's always gotten awa...
