The Blackmailer

Melissa is best friends with someone who wants more than just Melissa. Tiffany knows she is destined for success in popularity, and when she decides to take the chance, she makes it. A heartbroken and confused Melissa thinks an existence without Tiffany is a life without the sun until she realizes that it isn't her fault. Slowly growing insane from the silence and secrets she'd been holding for so long, she lashes out in hopes that her friend will fall from grace and back to her. She goes from the bullied to the Blackmailer overnight. Will Melissa realize it or go insane from the power she now possesses anonymously?

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2. Where It All Began

 

            “All right, class; settle down! Get back to your seats!” called Mrs. Goodwin. There was no way that was happening. If you were a fifth grader living in the South and saw snow outside your class window, would you sit down? I didn’t think so.

            Every one of our faces were pressed against that window, watching the snow stick the ground and begin to blanket the earth in the sparkling purity. At least, that was what I was thinking. Everyone else immediately thought the same warlike thought; “snowball fight”.

            “We only have five minutes until recess. Do you want me to make it ten? Sit down!” That scared us back to our seats. The last thing we want is to wait. Every last one of us kept peeking out at the snow in quick glances, each taking turns so that Mrs. Goodwin wouldn’t notice. Finally, as though we thought it would never come, the recess bell rang. Mrs. Goodwin sighed as we ran to the coat hooks like a parched person would a glass of water after being afloat in the ocean for a week. Once everyone was buttoned up, they started to head outside; everyone but me.

            “Melissa? What’s wrong?” Mrs. Goodwin asked. I didn’t answer; I was too concentrated on my buttons to notice. It hadn’t occurred to me in the slightest that I should have put my gloves on after my coat. My teacher came over to help and I ran outside when she finished, shouting a thank-you without looking in her direction.

            I went out and flopped into the new-fallen snow, creating angels with my arms and legs. This was by me alone, of course; by fifth grade, the cliques had been formed already. I sat up and looked at my classmates. There were the sport-obsessed boys, who were banded together against girls and threw snowballs like a tennis ball machine; the girly girls, who usually pretended to be mermaids and princesses at recess, who were making a snow-lady; the playgrounders, who usually played on the swings but today were making an igloo and setting up a line of defense against the boys. And then there was me; no group, no friends, nothing.

            Mrs. Goodwin came out and stood next to Mr. June, the other fifth grade teacher. They chattered away as Mr. June’s class came running out of the room. The same cliques began their snowball battles and construction projects; only one kid remained behind. She hid behind Mr. June’s legs, and he tried to push her out with a gentle pat to the back. She gripped a little tighter.

            “Why won’t you play with the others?” he asked. She shifted in her big pink snowsuit, kicking her Dora the Explorer boots in the snow and making circles with her toes.

            “Nob’dy else is makin’ angels.” she mumbled quietly. I sat up from my latest one and looked over at Mrs. Goodwin. She saw me and smiled, taking the kid’s hand and bringing her towards me.

            “Sure there is. Look here, Tiffany; this is Melissa.” Mrs. Goodwin said. Tiffany looked at the angels I was carefully arranging into one big circle.

            Tiffany stared at me. I stared at Tiffany. It felt like everyone got quiet, like we were the only two in the room. Suddenly, Tiffany smiled and jumped in the snow next to me, keeping the chain of angels going. Though I was slightly taller than her, we made a perfect chain of angels with a nice big-and-small pattern, like lace. Some of the girls came over to look at our things, but not very many. It wasn’t like we cared; it was the beginning of a friendship. The only friend I ever had, and she didn’t even have to talk to me. We just had to be kids.

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