It's midnight.
It's midnight, the time that the world kind of... shuts down, and the dark easily surpasses the light, besides the tiny pinprciks of stars illuminating the sky, like a million tiny flashlights.
It's midnight, and even though I had no party, my parents apparently felt obligated to give me a present, as two, poorly wrapped presents sit under my left arm, but I would feel I had a better birthday if I don't open them.
I don't deserve presents, even if it is a terrible wrapping job.
I am the youngest child and the only daughter, and stopped interacting with my parents because a phony idiot broke my heart.
I broke my mother down in tears when she told me she loved me, and I slammed the door on her.
I watched my father's heart break when he hugged me and I pulled away.
I just can't bring myself to do this.
I can't bring myself to love someone- when they have all the power they want over you.
Blaise was a idiot. He not only ruined everything for me; he ruined everything he possibly could for himself.
He should know that.
All I'm saying, is I will have my revenge.
I will come into his life and ruin it and everything he holds dear, if it is the last thing I do.
I don't care how I sound.
This has to be done.
So, I know Blaise has no idea, and you are probably wanting to know what's going to happen, so allow me to tell you.
Like I said, I trust readers like you.
I am going to live up to my name. I will became as heartless as they all call me to be for the sake of humiliating the one who got me this way.
I know that tomorrow will be a normal day for him. He will play a new game. Exchange some texts with that girl of his. He won't have a shadow of a doubt how devastating I am, and I don't have a shadow of a doubt that he won't care.
I'll barge in on him. I'll rob him. I'll take his money and his Xbox, take his phone, take everything that gives him joy anymore.
And I'll smile about it.
Why try keeping it hidden? They already call me heartless, I might as well solidify that statement.
I stay up that night, just staring out the window again, letting my mind wander. The snow isn't plentiful, only small chunks breaking off and melting into the ground- but the storm has continued through all day and night, so the snow has begun to start piling up.
I feel my eyelids getting droopy, and I lay my head back on the windowsill, letting out a stiff yawn that leaves my throat dry and congested.
I fall asleep simply that night, a new age, two unopened presents laying at my feet.
The last thought on my mind is simple as well:
"Revenge. If I could have any birthday gift, it would be his revenge...."
