(Esther's P.O.V.)
I'm standing here, leaning on the tree, watching that idiot Ryan Clarke walk back inside for his class. I may have been acting tough and undaunted throughout my encounter with him, but inside I was scared shitless. For a moment I thought he was going to eradicate me after throwing him some bold insults a while ago. Seeing this wasn't the case, I try to relax myself and remember that I still have two more classes to go.
I collapse to the tree's base, relieved his anger hasn't boiled over to me. I let out a sigh of relief and close my eyes, holding on to my sanity as hard as I can. While I let one hand go to the edge of my red skirt, the other pushes itself along the ground, until it grabs a hold of something and lifts it up for me to look.
That's odd. What would a Swiss Army Knife be doing here in school premises?
I realize I didn't know, so I do what anyone else would do in my place: adopt the 'Finders Keepers' approach and take it in as my own. Easy, since there is nothing in it to identify the owner and where it came from.
Recalling I still have a subject to attend to, I stand up and head to the specified classroom. I say to myself,
Come on, Esther. Just two more subjects. Two more subjects and you can go home and have a nice hot bath...
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The bell toils in its loud reminder to the students to get themselves ready for the last class of the day. As for me, the class carried on without incident. Good thing I decided to share only three subjects with that self-righteous warmonger instead of all of them. Otherwise, this place would have to be closed by the National Guard.
I walk to my locker and take some stuff out of my bag. While I think about what else I'll be doing after this, I hear an obnoxious laugh next to me. Turning to my right, I observe him talking to his friend about some random topic. Just looking at his smug face makes me want to tear him, piece by piece, with my bare hands, until he's no longer recognized as 'human'. I will not even save a single portion of him for burial. Or if I so desire, I may just be kind and save his head to be sent to other people I hate as a warning.
I find myself silently chuckling for my dark imagination. Oh, the things I'd want to do if I can just get close to him...
An idea forms in my head as I take out the Swiss Army knife from my skirt pocket. I toss it between my hands like my car keys as the idea keeps inserting itself to action mode.
Go ahead, Esther. Give it to him; take that imbecile out and live the rest of your life in peace. There's nothing to lose and everything to gain if you purge him from society.
I don't know; I've never really thought about intentionally murdering someone before, except for that time when I smashed a bottle on that creep's head in Cape Town for feeling me up and wanting me to do him like an antelope.
Come on, Esther. Don't be shy. Get rid of him and you will never experience this torment again.
No, I may hate that asshole, but I won't kill him. Maybe I'll call a hit on him; send someone to put a bullet to his brain. No, wait wait wait, what's happening to me?
What the Hell are you waiting for, Esther? Christmas? He's right in front of you; finish him before he finishes you! Deal with him while you still have the chance! Do it now!!!
My restraint hangs up like a malfunctioning program. The cracks are starting to show in my rationale. My temptation has turned itself into action. I've lost the battle.
YOU ARE READING
Two Wrongs Do Make a Right (Rewriting in Progress)
Action"My name is Ryan Clarke. I can't remember much about what happened, but this here is all I know: "Before I blacked out, there were armed goons chasing my brother and I, shooting at us and trying to run us off the road. Then we collided with somethin...
