Page 2 of My Rules for Revenge
“Indira, I’m sorry. I really am, but if I tried to expose any of them, they would kill me. Most of them have D1 scholarships on the line, and a couple of them have a real chance of going pro. If I mess with their dreams by messing with their reputations, and ruining their relationships with those colleges…I’m dead.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and I couldn’t take it anymore; my eyes welled up with tears as I viciously slapped him, leaving a bright red mark on his cheek as he stumbled back in bewilderment and nervously chuckled. I wasn’t a violent person by any means, but he caused me to reach my breaking point.
“Indira??!!” He cried out.
“Those stupid jocks, or whatever the hell you want to call them, have been harassing me and calling me names for weeks. Do you know how humiliating that is? The basketball players, the football players, and even the guys on the bowling team have seen them. Can you believe it? The bowling team, for Christ’s sake!” I exclaimed—I was furious.
Confusion washed over Eddy’s face.
“What? Still? I told them to knock it off when you first told me. I swear.”
“You did, but it doesn’t matter, because you can’t protect me against all of them, Eddy. It’s fine—it’s really okay. If you don’t want to help me the way I need you to help me, then we’re done,” I threatened in a whisper.
“I just want there to be peace, Indira—that’s what I always want, you know that, and I hate to see you this way.”
I shoved him in frustration.
“Then do what I’ve asked—you’ve made my life hell—you need to make it right!”
“I can’t. That’s the one thing I can’t do. I’m so sorry.”
I scoffed and chuckled. I wasn’t sure why I continued to talk with him—it was obvious he wasn’t going to help me.
“So, the one thing I need you to do is the one thing you can’t do. You’re an idiot,” I remarked. Eddy remained quiet and looked utterly ashamed. An ounce of guilt formed in my gut for the way he appeared, but it was quickly overtaken by the fury that still boiled within me.
“If there’s one thing I realized from all of this, it’s that you never truly cared about me.”
“Indira, how can you say that? That’s not true,” Eddy affirmed.
“It’s the truth,” I affirmed.
My steps echoed in the hall as I walked away and wiped the tears that were rolling down my face.
CHAPTER 2
HEATHER - PRESENT DAY
My name is Heather Chang, and I was sixteen years old when my life changed directions forever. If I had known what the path of revenge would have led me to, I still would have taken it. I won’t pretend that I would have known any better because I wouldn’t have. I was a heat-seeking nuclear missile who destroyed anyone and everyone who disrespected me. I tried not to be a monster, but some people made it easy for me.
I’d like to think that I was pretty normal. I enjoyed reading books and making memes, and I still do. But when I had to, I did everything in my power to uphold my reputation as someone you could not mess with. I couldn’t let people get comfortable disrespecting me. I had a duty to protect myself, and this was especially important in high school.
I imagined Brightwood High as a wild jungle filled with cruel bullies, assholes instead of athletes, and horny nerds who couldn’t get laid.
I lived in Brightwood Lake, a busy small town filled with soccer moms and unfaithful working-class husbands. Not all of them were unfaithful, I would say. My dad certainly wasn’t one of them, but for some reason, it seemed to be a serious epidemic where I was from. It was like a supernatural force had descended upon this town and had forced most men to cheat—perhaps they were bored, perhaps not.
Just like any other town, Brightwood Lake has rich neighborhoods as well as a poor side of town, and I lived in the middle. I didn’t have to worry about my next meal, but I wasn’t crazy rich either.
I was enjoying a decent life that wasn’t very exciting until it happened.
My life would eventually become involved in cases of sexual harassment, abuse, missing people, and even murder.
Thinking back, it would always amaze me that certain people I’d come across could dictate the type of life I’d live. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, though. This story is important if you’re going to understand my motivations. This is my story of revenge.
The year was 2017. I was shopping with my mom at a grocery store after school. My long, auburn hair was loose, and I wore a shredded, dark t-shirt with skulls andblack jeans. Most people took one look at me and thought I was a freaky, Asian emo girl who loved death metal. Truthfully, I was a freaky, emo girl who loved death—I’m only kidding; it was just the way I liked todress. I suppose it’s related to the idea that I liked to rebel, and maybe I was stereotypically angry at society for being how it was. Could you blame me?
As I told you earlier, I was with my mom, a slender, soft-spoken woman who usually wore a gray pantsuit with no vibrant colors and who didn’t like to make a fuss about things.
She was usually firm with me and no one else, which I found very annoying. She wasn’t the type of person to make a scene in public, but she was the type of person to allow someone to cut in front of her in the supermarket line and would rather stay quiet than complain.
