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Young Writers Society


Revenge is best served hot



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Fri Jan 20, 2012 1:04 am
dasiamari says...



I pulled up in front of the traitors house slowly, a dim stream of light flickered across the lawn from in between the drawn curtains. I turned of the car and waited. I could be patient, even more so now knowing that if he proved guilty he would pay. If he didn't pass the test, he never knew he was given I would do more than brake up with him. That would be petty. I would brake him.

Sure enough I looked up from my multi-coloured nails to see her walk out, his hand wrapped around her sample size waist. The moon light glittered off her perfect blonde curls, even from her I could see the from the flickering light her bright pink lipstick. Agony ripped through me, and I doubled over. I was right , I so wished I hadn't been right. "No!" I said to my self "He will wish I'm not right"

I pulled out the slim red lighter from my pocket and grabbed the song he wrote form me, which I had kept taped to me dashboard like a good luck charm. I waited until Ashley got until her small baby blue Bug and drove off her headlights at the end disappearing of the road, she didn't deserve to pay for this swines acts of treachery, even though she had been a part of it. I would make her pay separately. As soon as Jacob went in side I flicked the lighter and watched the flame for a moment then I set it to the to the tip of the paper where it began eat at it hungrily, eating away all the false lies of love. I tossed it on to the red gas can by the window.
I smiled as it exploded, not quite as large as I would have hoped, but I assumed the can wasn't very full. The small explosion was enough to catch the curtains throw the open window where they began to burn. I heard nothing from inside. Maybe he wouldn't discover the hose was burning until it was to late. Nothing more than he deserved. "Men should know that woman are sensitive, delicate creatures." I said out loud laughing. I didn't seem so very delicate.
Know that she's back in the atmosphere I'm afraid that she'll think of me as a plain old Jain told a story 'bout a man who was to afraid to fly so he never did land. ~Train
  








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