Nightlife

The first part where I stopped to think "Well, what if she didn't go through with this?"

 

Insomnia sucks. I couldn’t lie there, curled up beneath the covers, with my head racing and heart pounding. Not for a third night. I was ready to drop dead during the daylight, but when night came, it’s like the darkness woke me back up.

I changed into clean clothes and walked. My world is beautiful in moonlight. Houses bathed in shadows stood in the midst of dew-showered lawns. Disorder and chaos is hidden in shadows. All that stands are the photo-negative images of a slumbering world. A world which usually included me.

My ambling continued into the park near my house, coincidentally the halfway point between my house and Karen’s. My new perspective on the value of life had lessened my anger towards Karen to the point where, instead of killing her, I’d decided to torment her by tormenting her parents. This, I did for two reasons, the first being that I still deserved revenge, and the second being that her living through this might actually be more of a hell than dying. So what was it that would set her parents off? Pregnancy tests? Condoms? Alcohol?

No.

Think. Bigger.

Lesbianism.

This was a difficult chore that I would have to perform, but, luckily, I remembered that Karen’s parents always read her email. I believe their policy was “purity over privacy” or something of the like. Of course, how could they resist reading newsletters from colleges and counseling centers?

I’d signed her up on several Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender (GLBT) groups online which circulate weekly email newsletters. I’d found her email address out by simple observation. She had it written in a notebook in the hall where breakfast was served after church. When she’d left things unattended, I’d grabbed the notebook, run to the bathroom, and flipped through it until I was satisfied that I had some kind of personal information I could use. By pure luck, the front page read “If you find this, please tell me at this email address or phone number. Thank you!” With the information below.

I’d also written to several schools’ GLBT organizations, and just for the fun of it, set up a dummy email account from Lola Simmons, an imaginary girlfriend I’d created. She wrote messages to Karen like “I can’t wait to see you Friday! You are so sweet, and I had a lot of fun last week.”

I imagine her parents freaked out. I wouldn’t find out, though, until the next Sunday. Friday night continued into Saturday morning. If you have never watched the sun rise, you are lucky, in a way, that you were never a victim to insomnia. Nevertheless, it is beautiful. That first light on the horizon washed away my mirth at the musing of what I’d done to Karen. I was overwhelmed with sadness that the beautiful night had come to an end, and even more saddened because in an hour or so, I would have to return home.

Maybe, if I hurried, I could go grab some breakfast with Jeremy before he ran off to work.

 

Reviews

[Marth47]

hahahah! That is very funny what she is doing to Karen. I wonder what her parent's reaction is going to be.

[darkmusicbaby88]

I really like this. Great idea about how to get back at Karen