The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

49

The Art Of Revenge by MK20 Gab Chapter 49 Brandon’s Pov

My fingers twitched as I slept on the bed. The days flew past like wildfire on a windy summer day. A

month had passed.

Was I dead? or did I make a calculation error? Or maybe I was in the afterlife. I gently opened my eyes

to see a familiar ceiling; I was in my house, or was that my new hell?

I closed and opened my eyes again, attempting to figure out if I was still in my room. Maggie’s vacuum

cleaner could be heard.

I stood up immediately, and she waved at me with a smile. I waved back, and she dashed through the

kitchen door, returning with a cup of coffee and handing it to me.

“Am I in hell?” I joked.

“Do I appear to you as a demon?” she joked as she began gathering her belongings. I noticed Thalia

wasn’t in bed when I looked to my left. “Where is Thalia? Is she in the bathroom?” I inquired.

Maggie immediately put on a phony smile after I noticed her face stiffen up. “She’s gone for a walk on

the beach,” she explained.

I nodded, Thalia was never an early riser, she was always last with her snoring and her legs all over the

place, practically suffocating me to death. Something wasn’t right. I stood up hurriedly and placed the

mug on the table.

While I was putting on my robe and preparing to join her outside. Magie said her goodbyes and walked

out of the house. I would have walked out with her but I needed to put on my robe.

As soon as I tried to open the door, I felt my back collapse and I froze while holding on to the door. My

back felt like it was being pulled apart with a j*gsaw. The pain was so terrible that I collapsed to the

floor.

Maggie was most likely already on her way to the helicopter. I lay there, either waiting for the episode

to end or breathing my final breath. I started to feel panicked; there was no way I was going to die

without saying goodbye to my stup*d Thalia.

I attempted to do so the previous night, but she was optimistic that I would wake up because I had

completed all of the days allotted to me. She even had the audacity to refuse waiting for me in the

morning.

Other women would have stayed up all night waiting for me to draw my final breath, but she had opted

to go for a silly beach walk.

Was she unconcerned about my feelings? As I clung to my foolish waist, I wondered if I was reading

too much into her generosity, which was conditional since I was assisting her.

When I requested her to remove my clothes the other day, the stup*d girl mast**bated over my images

in the bathroom.

The only reason we hadn’t had sex was because I was dying, and it would have been unjust and

selfish of me to force her to become attached to me or fall head over heels for me. The most important

rule in the house was to focus on vengeance and shove feelings down the drainage.

I laid down on my back, facing the ceiling, and gave up the struggle. I’d grown accustomed to the

excruciating pain over the years, and there was no point in fighting it. My month was up and the muscle

stretching always ended.

I closed my eyes and absorbed the anguish; it eventually stopped, but blood poured out of both my lips

and nose. I wiped my hands over it and glanced at it; it wasn’t as dark as ordinary blood, and it was

more pink than black.

I felt as if a huge burden was lifted off my shoulders, and I sat there waiting for something that never

arrived.

Brainless Thalia had vanished without a trace. I got up without any aches and pains and walked

outside; it was a week since I had gotten my sick a*s out of the house. As I closed my eyes, the sun’s

rays appeared strange.

My skin felt as if it was getting burnt. I put my palm over my brow and looked for Thalia, but she was

nowhere to be seen.

I noticed the helicopter, which still had Magie inside. My jaw clenched as I realized Thalia was with

dumb Nestor. I was dying inside the house while she was outside with my foolish pilot, enjoying the

morning light. I strolled slowly along the shore, hoping to see them.

Magie began heading towards me as soon as she saw me, but she continued gazing to her left. When I

looked to her left, I realized she was attempting to keep me from seeing her son clutching my brainless

Thalia.

He was tightly clutching her to his chest as if she was going to fly away. His one arm was wrapped

around her and the other was patting her hair.

Maggie approached me and tried to distract me, but I pushed her away. I locked my gaze on the two

p*ssed, they had no idea I was watching them. The two m*rons were cuddling and snuggling while I

was dying inside the house.

A rush of hatred and misery washed over me, and piercing pain in my chest began to emerge. I was

torn between wanting to go back inside and confronting them. My mind went back to all the times she

had excused herself to accompany Nestor out the door.

I used to think they despised each other, but they were secretly hoping I’d die so they could be

together. I was simply a thorn in their way of being together. They didn’t even check to see if I was still

alive or wait for my body to be taken to the morgue.

“It’s not what you think, Brandon?” From behind me, Maggie said.

“Maggie, shut up!” I screamed at her and began marching towards the two cretins. They believed they

could keep their secret until I died but I was given an extra day so that I could catch them in the act.

“You also knew about this, didn’t you?” I paused and glanced at Maggie.

“Brandon, it’s not what you want to think; please calm down!” She begged.

When I coughed, blood and clots splattered all over the place. I didn’t have time to confront her, and

she and her son had already betrayed me. I’d always known they weren’t true people, but parasites

clinging to me for their gain.

“I don’t want to see either your face or your stup*d son’s face!” I said, clearing my throat. I screamed at

her and proceeded on my way to the fools. Maggie’s scream drew their attention to me, and they let go

of each other like two robbers caught red-handed.

Thalia’s eyes were swollen and red as if she had been crying. Was she feigning grief over my death

which she had not confirmed? Was she innocent, or was she guilty? The questions were not important,

I thought to myself.

The fact that she had betrayed me was all that mattered. She dashed over to me, feigning a grin, but I

told her to halt.

“Brandon, you are awake?” After a lengthy stare, she asked, breaking the stillness.

“Did you want me to die in my sleep?” I inquired, my voice solemn.

“No,” she responded with a small chuckle.

I ignored her and focused my attention on Nestor, who, like most of the time, had a blank expression on

his face.

He made it difficult for me to understand what he was thinking at all times. He didn’t look guilty, and

Thalia didn’t either.

“Brandon, let’s go inside,” Thalia suggested but I stopped her with a raised palm. “Wait a minute! You

two are deserving of each other, and you can go live happily ever after.

You should have honestly asked for my blessings and I wouldn’t have denied you rather than going

behind my back!” I spat out.

“What exactly are you on about, Brandon?” she inquired, perplexed. I could give her credit or an award

for being an excellent actress but I was not going to fall for it.

“Brandon, you’re overreacting,” Nestor said, but I ignored him and walked away. I had no intention of

squandering my little time on them. I walked back home swiftly, almost sprinting.

I could hear my name being shouted, but I disregarded it and dashed into the fence, locking it and

triggering the facial recognition system as swiftly as possible, and changing the password.

I was going to die alone and rot alone in my stup*d house, just as I had planned, but instead of jumping

off a bridge, I was going to bury myself in my house. I thought to myself, “Useless human beings,” and

entered the room.

I was inhaling flames and feeling my body heat up, but it didn’t bother me. I was ready to die since the

single person I had let into my heart had deceived me.

I coughed loudly and started kicking everything in my way, then went to the kitchen and got a rolling pin

and started beating anything in my way, starting with the dumb plasma screen. I continued to pound it

until it was shattered and strewn across the floor.

I gathered all of the digital and paper revenge plans and soaked them in the sink to ensure that they

were fully destroyed.

My head was flooded with guilt for all the wasted hours and days preparing and carrying out vengeance

for someone who was already slipping behind my back with my pilot.

We were meant to be celebrating since I had lived out the time allotted to me, but she opted to get up

early and spend her morning in the arms of useless Nestor. I was fighting back tears but failing

miserably.

I’d never sobbed for anyone before, not even when my parents died or when I was diagnosed with my

dreaded disease.

After everything I had done for her, how could she do such a thing to me? I stormed over to the closet

and dragged out all of the idiotic clothing I’d purchased her.

Yes, I was acting like a crazed ex-boyfriend but I didn’t care, though; the stup*d woman despised me. I

carried the clothing into the bathroom, doused them in spirit, and set them ablaze.

Yes, I went too far, but she wasn’t going to utilize them and neither was I going to allow her inside the

house. It was obvious the two idiots planned to wheel themselves over to Nestor’s house and live

happily ever after.

I pledged, though, that I would haunt them for the remainder of their miserable lives.

I was supposed to set the silly chopper on fire so they could walk or swim. But it was too late; going

outside would simply allow them to gain access to my house.

I hurriedly doused the stup*dly burning clothing with water and returned to the bedroom, searching for

anything that reminded me of the stup*d woman. I couldn’t force myself to say her obnoxious name.

When I turned around, I noticed the filthy couch. It reminded me of her, and even the foolish bed

reminded me of her, but I’d spent all of my energy and there was no way I could burn them.

I took my tablet and went to a room opposite the kitchen. If I was going to live another day, it was going

to be my new home.

Maybe the death process needed a catalyst, so I took out my remote and went straight to my wine

cellar.

I picked out the most expensive bottle of wine and proceeded to drink it. I turned on my tablet to see

whether the idiots had departed, but they were still outside, much to my surprise.

Thalia was pounding on the door and crying uncontrollably, while Nestor tried in vain to quiet her down.

She continued to use the old password, but no veil. I guessed that she was crying because I had

caught her red-handed.

To be honest, I didn’t give a d*mn; I continued to drink myself to death while coughing violently, anxious

for death to arrive and take me away.

I kept beating myself up for not jumping that night. Everything was my fault; I should have followed my Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

foolish gut instincts; what was I thinking?

I always knew how humans were programmed but I dropped my guard. I should’ve leaped off that

bridge.