Burning Tulips

Revenge is always sweet

I put tulips under all of the pillows, and then I set fire to the house. Her house. The house where I thought all of my dreams were going to come true, and then they didn’t. That woman ruined me, she ruined my life and my family’s lives. She took advantage of me, all I did for her, all I gave her, and what did I get? Nothing except 12 years in prison.

And then I got out.

The first thing I did was head straight to her house, but she wasn’t home, and that made me mad. I got the kerosene from my truck, pored it in every room, every hallway, every staircase until the house reeked of it. I went out to her garden and chopped up all of her precious tulips before putting them under the pillows of her bed, all except one. One I left one the front porch, leaving it to remain so she would know that I did this, but also as a message that she would not be able to catch me again. She ruined me, so now I was going to ruin her. First was to burn down the house, next was to destroy her car, then cut off all of her relationships, and last, expose her for the evil b***h she really is.

As the flames of the burning house began to take over, I sneaked away, inhaling my fair share of smoke. The neighbors saw and soon enough, the fire department was called to the seen. And eventually, she showed up. Her short, fake, brunette hair in a frenzy, tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. Her neighbors gathered around her and hugged her, expressing their condolences about her evil house.

They were all the same, these people that live in this world where old ladies can only be gentle and caring and nice. I guess I was among them at first. When Mrs. Hannigan hired me to take care of her house when she went on vacation for three weeks, I was thrilled at the opportunity to make easy money while residing in a three story Victorian. Especially when she offered to pay me two thousand dollars. My only instructions were to make sure her tulips stayed alive. At the time, I was still in high school. I was eighteen, but I still lived in a tiny apartment with my mother and brother, and Mrs. Hannigan said it was perfectly fine for them to live in her house with me for the three weeks.

Little did I know the crazy old bat was running a meth lab in her basement.

She called the cops on me about two weeks in claiming I had broken into her house, dragging my family with me, so I could run a meth lab while she was away. What bullshit. But, the cops believed her and I was sent away for twelve years to a prison with less than ideal living conditions at eighteen. I didn’t even to get to finish high school, but she got off scotch free without even one little mark on her file.

But, that was going to change now that I was here. I was going to take her down, and I didn’t care if I died trying.

The next night, I snuck back to the remains of Hannigan’s house. Her silver Honda Civic was still parked out front, waiting to be picked up by Mrs. Hannigan the next morning. I surveyed my surroundings making sure no one was around and crawled under her car. I cut the break lines.

And now, I had to wait.

I camped out in the bushes all night and then finally at eight am the next day, a friend dropped Mrs. Hannigan off at her car. She got in, drove off, and crashed almost immediately into an oncoming car. The car was clearly totaled.

Now I had taken away her house, I had taken away her car, next I would take away all that she loved. This task took more effort than the last too. I had to do little things like hack into her Facebook account and start leaving snotty comments on her friend’s posts, while locking her out of the account so she wouldn’t be able to see what I had done. Next, I had to start visiting the country cub she frequented, pretending to be her granddaughter Michelle. There I would casually mention things she said about her pals, watching them get angry and hurt. Eventually and with much effort, she had no friends.

Three tasks down, one to go.

Now, the big one. This one I had actually done first but it wasn’t revealed until last. While I was still locked up, my brother did me the favor of getting 10grms of meth and placing it under the carpeting of her car. After she got into the accident, the mechanics found it. They found all of it. There was no way they would be able to trace it back to my brother meaning there would be no way that they could trace it back to me.

She was arrested soon after and tried and sent to prison for 14 years. I was in the clear. Able to live my life again, get my GED. However, my life will never be the same as it was and my revenge isn’t complete.

Now, all I can hope for, is that she dies in there. 

Author's Note

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