The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

4

I was stunned and had no idea why. But I was so confident when responding to the man in front of me.

I never stood up for myself before, maybe it was because I was going to end my life. He, on the other

hand, was acting as if he owned the silly bridge. His c**kiness was starting to grate on my nerves.

“Two minutes ago you stated that my body would get in your way, so you jump first,” I yelled at him.

Or maybe it was because he was sick and weak, and I had always been the weak one in my life and it

was very easy for people to pick on me.

Suddenly, he started coughing violently, causing the bridge to move forward and backward. He closed

his mouth, and the dark clots splattered all over him and my face once more.

He appeared to be ill with an infectious illness. Or perhaps a lethal infection which he got by from a

biological weapon. But who cared if he infected me; I was ready to die anyway, but I was intrigued.

“What disease do you have?” I asked without giving it much thought.

“None of your f**king business!” he spat, causing more clots to land all over my face. He simply

glanced aside without apologizing. I was curious as to who had reared him, as he lacked both manners

and shame.

He was without a doubt the rudest person I’ve ever met. The spitting was followed by utter quiet as a

group of birds soared on top of us. The sound of birds mingled with the sound of the water below us. It

was lovely and refreshing. and it would have been ideal if the haughty jerk next to me hadn’t been

there.

We were both cowards deep down. We both planned to commit suicide, but no one was willing to take

the initial step.

I sighed as I knelt and took a seat; the sun was setting and it was joining to be nightfall. When I looked

up at him, I noticed he was still staring down at the water.

“Perhaps we could wait until dusk so the height wouldn’t be so intimidating,” I proposed but received no

reaction.

The cold wind began to breeze through as I ignored him and gripped my knees. What a stup*d

coincidence, the sh*thead decided to end his life on the same day I did, and he couldn’t even use

another bridge.

He knelt and sat next to me, much to my astonishment, but remained silent. We sat and watched the

sunset, was strange because none of us dared to jump.

which

To my amazement, he responded. “It’s beautiful. Finally, rather than rudeness or mucus, he said

something kind. I c**ked my head to look at him, but he swiftly shifted his gaze away. He did that a lot,

avoiding eye contact. He was probably the shy rude type, I thought to myself.

“My name is Thalia,” I blunderingly introduced myself.

He said coldly, “Knowing your name is not necessary.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and he cringed with contempt. We were back to square one, or perhaps he had a

personality condition.

There was silence once more, followed by a loud rumble from my idiot stomach. He returned my stare,

and despite the fact that his face was completely hidden, I could tell he was mocking me. I hadn’t eaten

in two days and had to cover my face since the noise was so loud and embarrassing.

He stated. “Here.”

When I looked up I noticed he was clutching a chocolate bar.

“Were you planning to kill yourself with a chocolate bar in your pocket?” I inquired, chuckling-

He responded, “I assumed you’d be concerned about the hygiene in my hand?” Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

I winced and grabbed it; at the very least, it was wrapped.

He questioned, “Why didn’t you use poison?”

“Excuse me?” I responded.

“When women decide to commit suicide, they frequently employ poison. “97% of women would use

poison or pesticide,” he said.

I was silent for a moment as I chewed on the chocolate bar. To be honest, I didn’t know what to say. “I

don’t know, I was walking by and heard the sound of water, so I came up here,” I said as I ate the

chocolate. I couldn’t remember when I had chocolate last

He chuckled and was on the verge of laughing, laut he held himself back His face evident with shock,

he asked. “You walked all the way here

Lanswees. “Yes”

I could see he wanted to say something but couldn’t on he was debating it in his head He murmured

something and coughed “pardon?” Lasked But he remained silent, and I gradually came to understand

lum, he wasn’t a blabbermouth.

But, because I was in the mood to converse, I said something even though I knew he wouldn’t respond

“I wanted

front of

Oving ·

hist, but there wer

the highway mugi the odds?” I said, but

all he did was raise his eyes. His hoodie obscured the majority of his face, making it impossible to

make it out. He then spoke after a little pause

in

“I was driving, and I parked down there I was about to hit a tree lait then I realized that if I survived. I’d

probably become paralyzed or bram damaged, and I’d just end up in a f**king hospital again,” he raged

“I despise the stench of that place,” he added.

1 giggled as if he’d said something amusing, which made him look at me.

I retorted. “You should have just sna*ched the pill tray and overdosed yourself”

He said, “The other guy who did it recently ended up in a coma.”

“So you’ve been considering killing yourself for days?” I inquired.

“About a year,” he replied “But on the day I finally had the halls, some chick with a terrible sense of

fashion and stinky hair decided to utilize the same bridge.”

I was so taken aback by his response that my jaw just hung open. I sna*ched a strand of my hair and

smelled it, yeah. he was right, it smelled awful, and I couldn’t recall the last time I washed it.

But then I remembered that he said “year” I couldn’t comprehend what sort of hell he was experiencing

to be contemplating suicide for nearly a year.

“If I had your life, I wouldn’t be up here,” he said casually,

He was starting to get on my nerves, so I chuckled. “Well, if I had your stup*d life, I wouldn’t be up

here.”

“Be careful what you wish for, he warned me.

“Do you know anything about me? How do you know that?” I sobbed and moved a few millimeters

away from him. “Alright let’s make a deal, the one with the s*ddest story gets to jump second,” he

suggested.

I turned and glanced at him in surprise, he did not look away like he was doing before. Instead, he

returned my stare To be honest, he was good looking I could have been staring at Henry Cavill’s

younger brother if he hadn’t been afflicted with the illness that had turned his skin grey

He was even more surprised when he asked, “Is it a deal, Thalia?”

“Didn’t you say knowing my name was not necessary?” Lasked, my brow furrowed. “And I’m not going

to tell you anything about myself because I don’t know your name!” I went on to say

He chuckled and averted his gaze when he realized I was staring at him “My name is Brandon,” he

replied and asked if it was a deal.

“Why would the person with the s*ddest story jump last?” I enquired.

“Well they will get the guts to jump if the idiot with a less sad story jumped first, why shouldn’t they,” he

replied Without making any sense.

“So Thalia, what’s your horror story? Ladies first,” he added.