Chapter Description: Everyone has a breaking point. another short chapter
Chapter 2: Teaching an Old Dog
As expected, the next day at school played out like clockwork. The school had been outfitted with poster after poster displaying a tearful and crying Jaime, head topped with a baby’s bonnet, her own thumb shoved hard into her mouth. The two boys who had held her that way long enough for the photo to be taken were again edited out of the picture, so it looked as though Jaime was sucking her thumb and crying all on he own accord. A caption read under the picture reading “Jaime The Creepy Crybaby! She’s been bad, so give her a spanking!”
Jaime’s behind was red raw by the time she went home that day. Her backpack was full of the posters which she had ripped from the walls and crumpled into balls.
She arrived home that day more angry and mad than she had been for a very, very long time. Her sister, who found out about the previous day’s events, wasn’t home because she was working a late shift at the diner.
Jaime had to do something. She couldn’t deal with this torture, this menace, this unfair humiliation that she had to deal with from someone who she had once shared juice boxes with. College life was supposed to be different. But Becky seemed to be trying to follow Jaime for the sake of some sick vanity. Becky couldn’t let go of the past. She just couldn’t grow up and be mature and let the wounds that Jaime was trying to let heal, heal. No, she just had to keep pouring salt into those wounds.
Jaime scoffed as she clicked on the light to her basement bedroom. The room flooded with a sickly red goth glow.
“She calls me a baby.” Jaime thought. “She’s the one who’s acting like a fucking child, the little brat”
The walls of Jaime’s bedroom were painted to look like gothic cobblestone and metal. The room was dark even by normal standards. The basement was large and multi-roomed, so that Jaime had a lot of space to herself. Her sister rarely came down here.
“I’ll show her.” Jaime thought almost out loud. “Fucking baby. SHE’S the baby. I’ll show her and her little slut team how funny it is.”
Jaime entered the second of the three basement rooms. This room, too, was decorated and designed to look like some medieval dungeon. Books lined bookshelves. Candles lay unlit and silent on the floor. Jaime walked to the bookshelf, thumbed across the spines and found what she was looking for.
It’s amazing what you can find when you have a credit card and access to the internet. Jaime had, perhaps, let her love of macabre and dark things send her down darkened roads, roads that one might find in cheesy horror movies and second rate fan-fiction. Every once in a while, someone happens upon something that should have been left alone.
Because Jaime then set out to prove why you should not mess with the weird, creepy goth chick.