Bully Aftermath by Gigi Birtie

Author:Gigi Birtie [Birtie, Gigi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Moonie

I can’t do this! As much as I fantasize about them tearing one another apart by getting jealous and then leaving them both drowning in a puddle of doubt, confusion, and all-consuming heartache.

My gut keeps telling me I could never pull it off.

No matter how long I’ve been wanting for this to happen or how I dreamed of destroying them in way possible. Even though this way of revenge is the last thing I ever wanted to do in the beginning. There’s just no way I can sink to that level now. Rox was right. It’s time to mend our old friendship.

My eyes shift to the closest filled with beautiful new clothing, and rage takes over my emotions. I’ve looked this skinny since high school. Where were these kind gestures when I needed them the most? This war inside of me needs to stop. Love and hate is all too consuming with these two.

As I stand here trying to contain my word vomit, I turn my stare back to Hyder and Rad who are still frozen in place at the door staring at me. I throw both my hands up in the air above my head in frustration.

“Look, I can’t do this. I’m a fucking virgin!” I say direct and to the point. “What makes you think I’d want to be with you both especially after all these years of you and your friends tormenting me day after day? I’ve looked like this for the last three fucking years and not once did either of you feel compelled to feed me. Fuck, we had to wear the same school uniforms year after year, and you both made fun of me because I needed to use a shoelace to keep my pants or skirts up!” I yell in frustration.

The dam has broken and everything I’ve ever wanted to say is flowing out while both of them stare at me in shock. I don’t give either of them a chance to get a word in. So, I continue to point out a few more fucked-up things they’ve done to me through the years.

“You threw footballs at me during lunch, causing my tray of food to spill to the floor or onto my clothes and most days leaving me with nothing to eat! I didn’t have the luxury to work until I was seventeen. For two years, I cried myself to sleep many nights because I was too proud to beg for food and refused to take the risk to be recognized at the soup kitchens in fear of someone from school seeing me waiting outside,” I say, squaring off my shoulders while pacing.

“It’s all fine that you want to help me now, and damn, I would be lying if I didn’t say this is what I’ve been waiting for, but you stole too many pieces of my soul. All I’m left with is barely anything of myself that’s recognizable. What I deserve is to see you both grovel, but I’m not

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