Facing the truth. A girls revenge.

Facing the truth

He’d been expecting someone. I knew that the moment he’d answered the door, the thumb of his right hand bandaged. I'd pointed this out and he told me he’d cut it chopping vegetables for dinner, but when did he ever cook.
He’d never cooked for me.
In the kitchen I confronted him. He smiled and said it was just a jealous rumour.
“I love you,” he said.
I thought that the first time he’d say those words to me I’d feel butterflies or maybe a little leap in the pit of my stomach but all I felt was anger. A rusty anger, it had been bottled away so long that I wasn’t sure how to use it, what to say.
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Tammy…” He whispered but I shrugged him away.
He sighed.
“What’s gotten into you Tam, why are you being this way?” I turned and glared.
“You know exactly why.” I snapped.
He crooked his head to one side like when he used to lie to his mum about pinching the biscuits from the jar.
Again anger flared. I turned away.
“So now you believe those other girls,” He said “What they’ve been saying about me and Lucy? Bloody hell Tammy, I thought you were smarter than to listen to them.”
Tears stung behind my eyes. I wanted to believe. How I wanted to believe him. How I wanted it to be some stupid joke, but I knew too well. I was his joke and he was laughing silently while I made excuses to myself.
Excuses for his strange behaviour, for his sudden weekend trips, for the photo Clair had shown me.
The photo.
He could try to pass it off as a fake. He could try telling me that some one had photo shopped it. He could try denying the evidence that he had kissed her, that he had held her, but I knew and when I’d seen it, when I’d finally had to face the bitter, burning truth that had tried so hard to stay in the back of my mind and never to bother me, never until now. That had been it.
That damn photo.
I spun around my mind filled with hate, wanting to lash out, to strike, to scratch off his sad, solemn face and reveal the smirk that hid behind it, to reveal the truth. The truth about the past months.
He'd always tell me to bring Lucy with us when we went out, to bring my best friend and he'd bring his and 'it would be great fun' and I bet it was, for them. Laughing about me. Sharing my secrets. Lying.
He shook his head and denied it again.
Then there was a knocking.
A flash of fear in his eyes and I knew.
I grabbed the carving knife from the counter and ran, ran so fast that my heart forgot to beat. I felt him grab at my hair as I ran down the hallway, heard him scream my name, but it was too late. What would come, would come and there was nothing he could do.
A pair of eyes appeared in the letter box and they saw me, and they saw the knife.
There was no time. No time for thought, no time for escape.
I wrenched open the door. She stood there, half confused. She stared at me, blessed with the looks that I wasn’t, and I struck. Not to kill, never to kill, but to ruin her beauty and to let her live with it. I slashed and the blood poured and she screamed. Like music to me.
Her screaming, her pain. It was only half mine.
"SLUT! WHORE!" I yelled the words again and again.
Then I felt him seize my arm, seize the knife, seize the slashing but the screaming and the bleeding kept on. I fell to my side panting. I was no longer angry. I’d done what I needed to.

Hiyas! I'm Mars, ready to review.
First of all, I hope those are not your titles (A Girl Who's Been Cheated and Anger), just because I don't think that either one does justice to your story. Anger is so vague, it can refer to a great many things, like a parent scolding a child, and so it really doesn't tell us anything about your story...and it also doesn't draw me in. And this story is exciting! And I think it deserves a better title. Here and here are two websites that might help you.

And, also a quick dialogue grammar lesson:
"I love you, Jesse." She said.
That's wrong. What it should be is:
"I love you, Jesse," she said.
More info here, if you need it.

Now, onto the actual story! I do like the first sentence. But when you say, He'd cut his thumb chopping vegetables I was a little confused as to how Tammy knew. I wish she had looked past him and seen the knife and the carrots, or the cutting board, or whatever, just so that the reader could make the connection. And then, it would've been cool if we could have seen the connection forming in her mind. How did he cut his hand? Oh look, a knife and chopped onions! He must've...but wait... you know? Because otherwise the reader gets jerked into the story so fast that it's like, hold up! What's going on again?

Oh, and, just a jealous rumour, right?

And then, the part with the photo is kind of the same. It's like, oh my gosh! The photo! and Tammy's freaking out about it, and obviously it's some key piece of the story that incriminates her boyfriend, but us readers are still left in the dark, going, wait, what photo is this? And so I suggest explaining it a little more, like, the photo that Clair had shown me, of him and Lucy. Just to be clear. (Obviously, you can write it better than I did! But you get the idea, right?)

I actually really, really like the ending. It's unexpected, and creepy, and I think you did a wonderful job of portraying Tammy's emotions. But, now, I realize that you spent the rest of the story (the part before Lucy came) telling us how she was so mad at him, and nothing about how Tammy was angry at Lucy. So, while it was good, I think inserting some anger at Lucy before she actually shows up would do the trick. And since Tammy is obviously a bit violent, maybe she tries to hit her boyfriend, or something? I don't know. I just think these suggestions would make the story flow a lot more cohesively.

Anyway, to sum up, expand and explain. You've got a great skeleton of a story here, but now I think you need to go back and add the flesh, the meat, and make it better than great. PM me if you have any questions, and I do hope this helps you!
-Mars

I've made some changes, they're not briliant but i'm not shakespear. (no matter how much i wish i was)

Hey there,

Let's get on with the review, shall we?

I'd pointed this out and he told me he’d cut it chopping vegetables for dinner, but when did he ever cook. Re-structure this sentence, maybe make several sentences out of it. For example: I'd pointed this out to him; he'd replied that he'd cut it while chopping vegetables for dinner. When did he ever cook?

just a jealous rumour. Not sure what you mean by this. He had just said he'd been cooking, so how can it merely be a rumour?

I thought that the first time he’d say those words to me I’d feel butterflies or maybe a little leap in the pit of my stomach but all I felt was anger. Chop this sentence up, too. Try to avoid run-ons.

Bloody hell Tammy, I thought you were smarter than to listen to them. I thought you were above listening to them./I thought you were smarter than that. The way you've put it isn't logical.

He could try telling me that some one had photo shopped it. [s]photo shopped[/s] Photoshopped.

He could try denying the evidence that he had kissed her, that he had held her, but I knew and when I’d seen it, when I’d finally had to face the bitter, burning truth that had tried so hard to stay in the back of my mind and never to bother me, never until now. This is one sentence -- it's too long.

I spun around my mind filled with hate, wanting to lash out, to strike, to scratch off his sad, solemn face and reveal the smirk that hid behind it, to reveal the truth. You need a comma between "around" and "my", and might want to consider turning this into two sentences.

Whoa, intense piece. Well done, though you should fix the things I've mentioned ^ up there.

PM me for anything!

XxxDo