Avenging Myself | Teen Ink

Avenging Myself

January 29, 2015
By AmazinGracey PLATINUM, Wilmington, Delaware
AmazinGracey PLATINUM, Wilmington, Delaware
24 articles 6 photos 25 comments

 I’m not a very vengeful person; many would probably say I’m the opposite. Although I’ve been referred to as a passive pillow, there does come a time where the pillow must give a punch instead of simply taking every hit that comes. Most of the time, when I do happen to retaliate, I feel a surge of remorseful, apologetic, and pathetic apprehension. There is one time that I am foolishly proud of, and will always remember.

I stepped up to the cold metal bleachers of the football stadium, overwhelmed with thoughts as I climbed the seats and sat myself down in the far right corner of the very last row. I looked around, not seeing many people yet. I couldn’t get him off my mind. It had been four months since he broke my heart a week before my fifteenth birthday, and a week after my mother had been discharged from the hospital. I needed him, or so I thought. That night came as a surprise to me, but now I know that some people deserve much better than what they settle for, and other people are much better left with ranch scented hair.


“Please don’t come…Please don’t come…” my thoughts raced as my eyes searched through the arriving students. I felt the blood rushing to my face. Then it hit me like a hundred bee stings to my heart, there he was. He walked towards the snack bar, holding her hand. Not mine. I held my breath as a surplus of tears streamed down my face. I was crushed. I was enraged. I was feeling everything all over again.


As the night went on, it was difficult to enjoy myself amongst other friends. I found myself leaning against the wall of the snack bar, until my friend Timothy approached me with a bag of Doritos.


“Hey, do you want these?” He nonchalantly handed me the unopened bag.


“Sure.” I accepted without much thought.


As Timothy started to walk away, I added, “actually… I don’t really want them. I don’t feel well.”


“You could always throw them at someone” he chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders.


I knew my eyes lit up, because I could almost feel the adrenaline.


“Actually, that is not a bad idea.” I grinned, and started to run towards the bleachers, before he could even ask why.


I don’t know exactly what I was thinking, or what had given me the sudden bravery to do what I had always wanted to do, I just knew I had to do it. I felt my hands crumble the bag of chips as I proudly climbed the bleachers and approached my ex-boyfriend and the group of his friends, including the girl clasped in his fingers.
“Hey, Matthew” I greeted him as I lifted my arm directly above his head. Before I knew it, the bag of the crunched up cool-ranch Dorito chips were no longer in my hand but on his head, in very tiny pieces. Without thinking twice or breaking a sweat I turned around and walked straight down the bleachers. I heard my sister’s laughter and many claps from behind.


I ran far away, to the other side of the football field. I started to cry, and then I took a breath and started to laugh. “I can’t believe I just did that...” I smiled to myself. It may not seem like much, and although some people would consider it a childish and rude thing to do, I don’t care. The look on his face is all I ever needed to get over him, and I’ll never forget how strong I was to actually pull it off.



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