PAYBACK

for the story contest IT STARTED WITH THE LETTER

 

PAYBACK

 

 

By

 

Jen-JG

 

 

It all started with the letter!

 

Well, that’s when THEY thought it started, but let me tell you something. I KNOW better. I know exactly when it started, why the letter came, and who wrote the thing.

 

You see, I wrote the damn letter!

 

Did I know what I was doing? Did I understand the repercussions of writing that brief, but telling missile of pure anger and hatred? Did I care about any of that? Let me tell you I DID NOT, but then, would I still have put pen to paper if I did know? Maybe … just maybe!

 

It all began – really began, at school. I was a brash teenager, who knew everything, and wanted everything right now.

 

On this particular day John Andrews looked at me with a gleam in his dark eyes that made me feel giddy, and weak at the knees. He was two years my senior, and the spunkiest boy in school but he was dating my best friend Shirley Barton. Somehow, at that moment I didn’t care. I decided I wanted John Andrews and nobody would stand in my way.

 

 

Oh, how I planned and schemed. Everything worked out exactly the way I wanted and soon John and I were inseparable. Of course Shirley found some reason for ignoring me after that, but that was her problem, not mine. After all, if she couldn’t be happy for me, her best friend, then she wasn’t worth worrying about, was she?

 

 

 

Not long after that I saw John and Shirley sitting close together in a local coffee shop. When I asked him what they were talking about, he denied it all, saying I must have been mistaken because he was somewhere else at the time. He never did say where he was.

 

A year later Shirley died in a car accident. I was upset because, apart from the way she treated me after John and I got together, Shirley had been my best friend since primary school. I went to her funeral alone because John didn’t want to come with me and he wouldn’t say why. He wouldn’t explain the new dint in his car either.

 

 

Things went on as usual and John began talking about moving to the city after we finished with school. It was another year before that happened.

You know something, I was happy; really happy for the first time I could remember. John was perfect in every way, attentive, caring and he made me feel as though I was the only person he really cared about. So why did I feel like something was not quite right?

Our parents were not pleased when we told them we were sharing a flat, but after seeing us together they said they were glad to see how happy we were.

 

 

 

We got work quickly enough but our jobs took us in different directions. John became a floor manager in one of the newer marketing businesses, and I worked in a busy call centre. We didn’t see each other much during the week because our shifts were different, but the weekends were usually pretty good.

 

Then John changed. Oh, he appeared to be as caring as ever but he became more secretive, and worked back a lot, even sometimes on the weekends.

 

He began talking about Mary Sutton, the new girl he was asked to train. I got fed up hearing about how talented she was, how smart she was, how she could turn her hand to anything. I began to hate the name Mary with a vengeance.

 

It was almost a year later before John came home late, smelling of perfume and saying we needed to talk.

 

He told me we were finished, that he and Mary were in love and were getting married in three months. Then he said I had to leave in the morning.

 

We’d been together six years and he tells me this! I was so upset and angry that I couldn’t speak let alone think.

 

Somehow I managed to leave our flat. Somehow I managed to find somewhere else to live. Somehow I managed to keep working. Somehow I managed to survive for the next two months. Somehow I even managed to think again and when I did, I knew exactly how to get even.

 

 So, I sat down and wrote the letter. Then I waited.

 

 Came the wedding day and I was in the back row of the church waiting for the bride to walk towards John. I must admit she did look beautiful even though she was evidently rather pregnant. I saw the way John looked at her standing beside him and all the hurt and anger rose again, tearing my insides to shreds.

 

Catching the usher’s eye, I gave him the letter and said it was a gift for the bride and groom and that the priest should read it aloud as part of the ceremony. Then I left the church…

 

 …the story was in all the newspapers.

 

Pregnant Bride and Groom Killed in Freak Accident Outside Church.

 

The photo showed a distraught bride rushing down the steps of church closely followed by the groom.

 

The story began

 

It all started with the letter someone asked the priest to read as part of the ceremony.

 

The church fell silent as the words spilled from the lips of the ashen-faced priest.

Mary

 

This letter is to warn you that the man you are planning to wed today is not the person you think he is.

 

He is in fact a killer who has escaped the law. Ask him how Shirley died.

 

He has no feelings for anyone but himself and will no doubt throw you aside as soon as he finds some one new to play with.

 

How do I know this? I am the one he discarded to be with you. The one he lived with for six years before you came along and turned his head. He will swing back to his true self soon enough, so be warned.

 

 

Bruce Watkins.

 

 

 

No one stopped the bride as she ran from the church. No one stopped the groom as he chased after her.

 

He caught her a split second before my truck hurtled forward. Only I heard the thumps as my wheels bounced and skidded. Now, all that remains are the bloodied patches on the hard asphalt…

 

 

I confessed it all in a letter.

 

 So here I am - sitting on death row waiting for an end to this.

 

 Yeah, it all started and ended with, the letter …

 

Author's Note

As always honesty is good - just say what you think.

Reviews

[zoeey#808]

Kept me wanting to read it all the way through. Nice build up!

[Terry Ellis]

Wow! What a letter. A little shocking, but held my interest for sure. Interesting. Honestly.

[ATG]

This was a really interesting and entertaining piece of writing. I little too fast and more details would be great, but over all a good piece of writing.