Hate, Love, and Revenge

She Is Gonna Get It

Brandy

How dare Michelle refuse to show up tonight? I waited all day with the hope that our mother would take care of her, but she never did. She had punched me in the face and lost her job at that pathetic diner. I simply cannot let this slide — Michelle must be held accountable for her actions. Our mother, Brian, and I waited anxiously until after midnight for Michelle to return home, but she never came back. The long wait only deepened our anger and frustration.

The following morning arrived, yet Michelle was still not present. The day persisted without her, and as the hours turned into the next day, Michelle remained absent once again. It seems she must be in hiding; however, hiding is not a permanent solution, and eventually, she will have to face what she's avoiding. Her absence is causing our mother even more pain, adding to the emotional strain. It's ironic—someone who appears to be intelligent on paper seems to be quite clueless in real life. Throughout the entire weekend, Michelle was nowhere to be seen, and I found myself pondering where she could have been all this time.

If I were Michelle, I would stay hidden at her secret hideaway and never return. To my surprise, just as I was getting ready to take a shower, I spotted Michelle standing in the hallway outside her door. After all, Monday was the day she finally showed up, and I was planning to make her feel a lot of pain. She deserves this punishment because of what she did to me.

I loudly announced to everyone that Michelle was home so our mother could hear me clearly. Immediately, she hurried out of her bedroom, and Brian walked out of my room, her voice raised in anger as she scolded Michelle. Watching this happen, I felt a sense of satisfaction. I couldn't believe Michelle was talking back to our mother — she really has some nerve.

"I don't care that you got fired," our mother shouted with fury in her voice. "Give me my money, or else you'll be living out on the streets!" Her words echoed through the hallway, sharp and uncompromising.

Michelle, standing her ground despite the anger directed at her, retorted sharply, "I didn't get fired! This is just an excuse for you to kick me out of this house. You never wanted me here in the first place!" Her voice trembled with a mixture of frustration and hurt, yet she refused to back down.

I couldn't believe my ears at what I was hearing. Before I knew it, mother suddenly slapped Michelle across the face with such force that she lost her balance and fell to the floor, her body hitting the ground hard. I took the opportunity to kick her hard in the stomach several times. The house fell silent for a moment as the shock of the incident began to sink in.

This is what Michelle gets for hitting me and disrespecting our mother. Suddenly, Michelle stood up slowly, a fierce expression of rage painted across her face. She loudly declared, "All of you will be held accountable for this. I swear on the Moon Goddess herself!" Her voice trembled with fury and hatred. "You must be so stupid to think you can just threaten me in my own house. You are no longer my daughter. Get the hell out of my house and don’t come back!" Our mother shouted back, her voice firm and commanding, as she forcefully pushed Michelle towards the stairs, emphasizing her authority in the tense confrontation.

I approached Michelle cautiously, my mind racing with a mix of anger and desperation. I needed to get my payback from her hitting me before she left this house for good, and I knew time was running out. As she turned to leave, I confronted her sharply. "Michelle," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "I never saw you as my older sister, and frankly, I'm glad you're leaving for good. Good riddance." Without thinking, I impulsively kicked her down the stairs. She hit the bottom hard, and I suddenly saw blood oozing from her head, staining the floor. Her body lay there motionless, unmoving. For a moment, a sickening thought crept into my mind—did I kill her? A twisted smile spread across my face as I contemplated the aftermath.

"You’d better hope you didn't kill her, Brandy,” my mother warned, her voice tense with concern. “Because if anyone finds out what happened, Alpha Raymond won’t hesitate to lock you up in the dungeon for good.” I responded, my voice trembling slightly as I said, “Serves Michelle right for hitting me and messing up my gorgeous face.” The anger and frustration bubbled beneath my words.

Brian, across the room, chuckled darkly. "Everything will be just fine," he said mockingly. "If Michelle is dead, she definitely won’t be missed. Honestly, no one really cares about her anyway."

Michelle still lay motionless on the ground, her body unnervingly still. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I stared at her—was she really dead? The silence stretched thick between us, heavy with unspoken fears and uncertainties.

Brian walked past my mother and me to go downstairs. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused briefly, turning his head to look back. His eyes softened with concern as he extended his arm, reaching out to check on Michelle. "Is she breathing?" my mother yelled, her voice trembling with worry. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint, steady beeping from the monitor. Michelle remained motionless, her face appeared to be pale, and her eyes were closed, holding everyone in a tense, anxious pause, waiting to see if she would respond.

I honestly have very little concern or emotional attachment regarding Michelle's demise; her death does not evoke any feelings in me. Nevertheless, what genuinely concerns me the most is the punishment or consequences that might follow this event, as I worry about the implications and repercussions that could ensue.