Payback Is A Bitch
Reader advisory: This story contains graphic violence, suicide, and complex emotional issues.
Author’s Note: Sometimes I use writing to deal with raw emotions and get them out of my system. That is what I did here. I started with raw emotion and wrote a short story, and then it morphed into something else with editing and revising. It’s not the emotions I am feeling anymore but something more monstrous in my eyes.
Charlie had been homeless for a month, and in that time, he had seen who had his back and who didn’t. And, he had left the life of being a thug behind him a long time ago, but with what he had been through this past month he was seriously tempted to put that hat back on. He felt disrespected after all he had done for so many as well as feeling like he had to make a statement to show he was not someone to be disrespected ever.
He had just gotten a new apartment and moved in as he was thinking this over. And, everyone knew he was back in town though few had bothered to say anything to him since he had returned. The rage in him seethed and boiled with no outlet to get out of his system. All the coping skills he had learned in dealing with his anger seemed to have been forgotten over this.
Finally, he couldn’t take anymore and started learning the ways of those that had turned their backs on him. Knowing their habits and schedules, especially at night. He did this like a cold, calculating cobra. He went back to dressing in red and black and not giving anything to anybody. He isolated himself except for those he chose to ally himself with. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but he was so angry that the fury blinded him to all else but his objective.
After he had planned for everything he could, he ambushed them one by one beating them savagely into a coma. Every time adrenaline shot into his system as he began by kicking in their knees snapping them in two right from the start so they couldn’t go anywhere. As the anger roared into his veins more, he kicked them in the mouth and nose drawing blood and smashing teeth in as well as breaking their noses. Then smelling the sweet smell of blood that drove his bloodlust he took an arm at a time twisting them and yanking ripping the shoulder out of socket before holding it out straight and snapping it at the elbow. Next, he walked around them watching them roll around in pain before savagely kicking them in the ribs until they started coughing up blood and then started kicking them in the head consumed completely with rage blind to all else until they lost consciousness. Then he went to their homes and sealed all the exits and doused each home in gasoline and regardless of who was inside lit them on fire. Watching as he walked away savoring the vengeance in his mind as the lives they had built up burned away.
At last after all that, he was spent of anger and just tired of it all. He had nothing left to give and knew the cops were on his heels. So, he fled the city to “The Greens”, a forested area of the city, it had been his sanctuary as a kid, and now he longed to return to it. He could see he had done wrong now, but at the same time, he still felt they had wronged him.
He collapsed finally in a clearing in the Greens and looked up at the stars and felt something, otherworldly touch him and he began to cry and pray. He felt remorse finally, and he knew he could face no one again. He was ashamed and guilt-ridden and begged forgiveness. Though he knew not how to forgive himself.
And, there in the middle of the clearing, he slit his wrists and throat ending a path of revenge or vengeance depending on your perspective in a pool of tears and blood. All alone under the night sky with no human being to witness it. Making the saying true that when you start on the path for vengeance dig one hole for the one you are after and one hole for yourself.
Author’s End Note: If you or someone you know is experiencing a mental illness call: 1‑877‑726‑4727. If you are ever feeling suicidal you can call: The National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1–800–273–8255, or if you would prefer to text instead of talk send a text to 741–741. There are those that care out there even when you are sure there aren’t or it seems hopeless. Just reach out at the above numbers and you will find them if you are afraid to reach out to those around you.
