Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
The peachy tint of her face turns red then blue and finally purple. The only thing that saves me from not flat out committing murder is the image of Zora’s face that clearly enters my brain like a soothing balm.
Realizing the extent of my madness, I immediately release Teagan, partly regretful for what I’d done while the other half celebrates releasing the resentment I’ve felt for her for a very long time.
She collapses to the ground, clutching her throat, coughing and crying. She raises pleading eyes toward me, silently begging for my comfort but I have none for her.
I need to get away from her, this party…this house.
I head toward the door but before I cross the threshold, I turn to a still crying Teagan. “Try not to steal anything on your way out.”
I don’t need to go from room to room to know that Zora has already left. I no longer feel her presence.
For now, I don’t have the power or resources to reach my ultimate goal.
Zora.
But the day will come when I claim what’s mine. And nothing is going to stand in my way. Not even her.
5
ZORA
“Isaw my bully today. You know they say that these kinds of people peak in high school and their lives go downhill from there. But she looked amazing. And she had two beautiful children with her and she seemed happy. And here’s the kicker, she saw me too. She came up to me like she was happy to see me and wanted to catch up on old times time. It’s like she’d completely forgotten that she’s tormented me to the point where I slashed my wrists.”
The redhead self-consciously rubs the dulled scars on her wrists as she glances out the window. A lonely tear cascades down her cheek, so I grab the box of tissues at my side and discreetly hands it to her.
With a sniffle she plucks one from the box and gently dabs the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m being a big baby. I’m going to be thirty in a month, and I can’t stop crying over something that happened over 15 years ago.”
I place my notepad on the stand next to my chair and lean forward to make eye contact with my client. “Your feelings are completely valid. There’s no time limit on how long it takes to get over something that was understandably traumatic to you. It’s okay if you need to cry about it. And I can imagine how triggering it was to see her after all this time.”
Kara clenches her hands in her lap and bows her head in reflection. “You probably couldn’t imagine, how I’ve actually dreamed about seeing her again. In my mind, I’d be triumphant in all aspects of my life. I’d be at the top of my game career wise, I’d be well traveled, financially stable and adored by the love of my life. And in each scenario she’d be miserable with her life, so miserable that I’d take pity on her and hold back all the angry words I’ve wanted to reign over her head. I’d be magnanimous in my victory and pretend she was simply a blip in my life while she’d never be able to forget about me.”
“But she robbed me of the very fantasy that’s been keeping me going. I hate my job. The only reason I’m keeping it is for the health insurance to cover my therapy. My last boyfriend was a serial cheater and I haven’t left the country. Hell, I don’t even own a passport. I feel like I’m still stuck in high school and she’s been able to live the good life. That’s not fair. It’s not fair!” Kara yells as she swipes at another stray tear.
“How can someone ruin your life and pretend it never happened? I don’t get it? What happened to the universal rule of karma, or is that all just bullshit? Where’s my justice?”
“And justice to you would be your former bully leading a bad life?” I gently prod.
Kara shrugs. “I don’t know. She doesn’t deserve to be happy after what she did. I mean I guess if she would have shown a little bit of contrition, I wouldn’t be so pissed.”
“I’ve read somewhere that everyone is the protagonist in their own story. People rarely see themselves as the villain. There are times when suppressing trauma and memories is used as a coping mechanism. The same can be said about events where we’re not seen in the most flattering lights. To you she might have been pretending and she very well may have been, but it’s also possible she’s distanced herself from those memories because she hasn’t fully come to terms with what she’s done. I’m very sorry you had to relive some of those unpleasant experiences because of your impromptu meeting.”