Step 8: Get your revenge

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*EDITED*

Jamie's POV

  I knocked on the wooden door with a large, mischievous smile on my face that only promised more grief and death for Eli. I hid both of my hands behind my back, concealing the weapon I had.

  When the door unlocked, I immediately wiped any signs of smiling or mischief from my face and replaced it with fake sadness and fake remorse.

  "Ms. Saunders, what a pleasant surprise. How can I help you?" 

  Mr. Jackson was in his same dress shirt and dress pants, with the same leather shoes. His handsome face was contorted into a handsome smirk and his large electric blue eyes mocked me as I stood there at his door.

  I looked down and looked back up with the same fake remorse in my eyes.

  "I-I...Can I please come in, Mr. Jackson."

  Quickly, his smirk vanished and was replaced with a subtle kind of shock. He was clearly taken aback.

  I internally let out a cry of victory.

  "Uh, sure...Ms. Saunders." he stepped back, allowing me to move past him.

  He closed the door and turned around.

  I sigh and turned around myself, so my back was facing him. I held my weapon in front of me and grinned.

  "Mr. Jackson, I just want to tell you, I feel like I don't have a choice anymore." I said.

  There was silence.

  "Choice? A choice to do what?" I could hear the confusion in his voice.

  A smirk appeared onto my face instantly.

  "To do this."

  I whipped around and pointed my Nerf gun at him. I immediately started shooting at him, blue paint coming out of the other end. 

  His eyes widened as I started shooting him, paint splattering his face and clothes. He then ran away to go and find cover.

  "Ms. Saunders! Stop this immediately! NOW!" he yelled.

  I simply laughed and continued on shooting.

  He grabbed a throw pillow and attempted to cover himself from the blue paint.

  "Ms. Saunders! STOP!"

  "Not until the grand finale!" I grinned, taking out a cap that kept in all the blue paint, "Which is this."

  I dumped all the paint on his head, watching as it dripped down his hair, onto his face, onto his clothes and then onto the floor.

  I put my fists on my hips and took a step back, admiring my work. 

  Mr. Jackson stood in front of me, hair covered in paint, his face had a lot of paint on it, save some little unfilled parts on his cheeks. He had blotches on his clothes and there were some dots of paint on his shoes.

  I smirked. He looked like a smurf.

  "Hey, Papa Smurf!"

  He scowled.

  I pouted.

  "Oh, I think I have the wrong smurf! Is that you, Grouchy Smurf?" I grinned mockingly, "Sing with me! La la la-la la la sing the happy song! La la la la la la, smurf the whole day long!"

  When I saw that he definitely wasn't going to sing with me (not that I expected him to) I slowly backed away.

  I chuckled nervously.

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