| C h a p t e r 4 |
When I was just three and a half years old, I had an epiphany-
I was going to marry Wyatt Silverstone.
♕. ♕.♕. ♕.♕. ♕.♕. ♕.♕. ♕.
Thirteen Years Ago...
Mommy and daddy have just made us move from Anaheim because daddy says that he's got a "job opportunity that was too good to pass up".
They are already friends with the family down the street. They've been helping us move our boxes and are telling us to come over for dinner.
"Daddy, I don't wanna go," I tug at his shirt. I'm kind of tired and I want mommy to make dino nuggets.
My father crouches down in front of me. "Guess what?"
"What?" I ask.
"They have a son that you can be friends with!" he says, "and I'm sure you two will get along so well."
I stare at him thinking about my options, and before I can tell him my final decision, mommy walks in. She calls dad and I "partners in crime". If I say no, which right now I want to, he won't go either.
She does that thing where she puts her hands on her hips. It's scary and we can't say no to it. "Let's go, both of you."
So, sadly, I end up walking down the street to my parent's new friend's house with nothing but two dolls in my hand.
A woman with the friendliest emerald green eyes opens the door for us, her husband, a tall man with a lot of muscles, stands behind her. They both shake my hand and introduce themselves as Camilla and Jack.
I sit in the living room for around five minutes, when Camilla comes back holding the hand of a little boy, around my age.
He has the same green eyes as his mom, with small specks of blue and brown.
He looks like the perfect prince.
The parents put us alone in a room and tell us to play together until dinner is done. It's really quiet. Mommy always says that if you don't know someone, that you should... wait. What's the word again? I think it's in-tera-duce.
I'll ask mommy what it is later.
"I'm Ashley," I say, smiling, "What's your name?"
He turns around and starts playing with his trucks completely looking away from me.
"It's not very nice to not talk to me," I tell him, folding my arms.
He turns around and I can see his eyes again. They remind me of mommy's favourite green emerald necklace that she got from grandma.
Looking straight at me, his eyebrows go closer together.
"I'm Wyatt, and your dress is ugly, and so are your dolls."
I don't say anything back, trying not to cry. My mommy comes in to tell us dinner's ready.
Dinner finishes pretty quick and we both go back to the playroom once the parents start drinking what daddy says is grown-up grape juice.
"Stop following me!" Wyatt yells.
"You're a meanie!" I tell him and turn around, starting to play with my dolls again.
Suddenly, one of my two pigtails feels lighter. I turn around to see my hair, chopped off and on the ground. My bottom lip starts shaking and the tears began to fall as my heart squeezes for my hair. I love my hair so much, and now it's all gone.
"Mommy!" Wyatt calls. Our moms come running in. "Ashley's crying because when we were playing her hair got cut off," he looks at me before adding, "By accident!"
"B-but-" I can't finish my sentence because my voice is shaking so much. Mommy hugs me and I cry even more.
"Wyatt Silverstone! How many times have I told you not to play with scissors! Apologize immediately!" She scolds.
He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "No!"
"Now Wyatt!"
He looks angry when he says sorry.
"How about we have Ashley take one of your toys. It seems like the only way we can compensate."
"No!" he screams.
Mommy looks at Camilla. "Fair enough," she says, and grabs my hand to walk me out of the room.
I hear her whisper to Camilla something along the lines of, "I didn't have nearly enough wine for this," and they laugh. Whatever that means.
As we leave that night, our parents are laughing and chatting, probably happy with their new friendships.
Wyatt never comes out of his playroom, even when his mother gives me his Hulk figurine out of guilt for what her son did.
For some reason, I can't stay mad at him.
♕. ♕.♕. ♕.♕. ♕.♕. ♕.♕. ♕.
That was only the first time he did something bad to me and got away with it. From there, the bullying only got worse.
My plan is simple, really. I plan to demolish a certain someone who's demolished me emotionally.
Who literally made me bleed. Who gave me scars.
Burn for burn.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Revenge
ChickLitWhen they were three, he chopped off her ponytails. When they were eight, he destroyed her dolls. When they were thirteen, he got his friends to beat her up and then threw her in the trash outside school. And the worst part? He's always gotten awa...
