Something wick, Cassidy?

It's about a wicked plan, he does say. She plans for the laugh at the end of revenge. Author-I hope you guys like this, if you want me to continue please say or like.


1. The plan was revenge

She wasn’t normal, strange was she? Lies evolved around her life, lies just built, any minute they could just collapse. No one ever guessed them, just thought or believed maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe? She did things she wasn’t proud of but never cared to look upon them and learn.

2010, she had a plan, a wicked plan. The plan was revenge, on whom? On those who are around her, but not all.

She arrived after another day at prison, High school. Today was the beginning of the wickedness. She closed her door, so nobody knew she was at home, early arrive from school was suspicious. She began to pack everything that proved her exist. Pictures, books, dairies, everything. Expert for her body, they would found it but nothing else.  She threw the boxes out of the window and then jumped. She walked to the Post office and sent something that would arrive to the person in two days. Two days after, something. She walked back to her house but entered through her window.

She got everything ready, everything that makes the scene shocking. She got a cup of water on her bed stand and then got all the sleeping pills. In seconds she swallowed them; she hid the packet and laid flat on her bed, for death to do its part. She slowly drifted, into a deep sleep that would last for enteral.

After four hours, the girl laid dead, her mother called for her to come down stairs. As no reply was heard, she made her way in rage. She slammed the door, as she argued but soon she stopped as she ran. She checked her pause but no beating was heard. She screamed for her son to call an ambulance. As her mother cried, she notices the room was odd. She looked upon the walls; there won’t any pictures, nothing. Her desk was empty, her drawers were also empty.  Her mind took distances as it thought. ‘This isn’t normal’ her brother walked in, he was too young to understand but from the tears his mother cried, he guessed. Wasn’t a bad guesser, at all? He didn’t cry, he didn’t feel anything, just numb. How would she do this, why would she? Why? He asked himself, but unfortunately no answer was thought. 

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