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Story: We’re At It Again
HUDSON
I SWAGGERED DOWN THE HALLWAY, exuding an air of nonchalance. My eyes scanned the passing faces as my thoughts drifted. The meat heads appeared in my path; their bulky frames blocked my way like an impenetrable wall. I sighed in annoyance as I attempted to sidestep them, but they moved to block me again. Their smirks widened into arrogant grins.
“Move.” I said, not in the mood for pleasantries.
“What’s the magic word?” Jockstrap asked from behind his army of jerks.
“Move before I punch you.” I said, tilting my head to the side with a plastic smile. “ Please. ”
“I don’t feel like that was genuine,” Jockstrap said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Want to try again?”
“Perhaps you should ask me not to punch you in the face.”
His mindless buddies laughed; their bravado bolstered by their numbers. As the tension was about to escalate, a familiar voice cut through the air, drawing our attention. Luna approached, her eyes red-rimmed with tears, but her voice was steady as she addressed me.
“Hudson, not again.”
Her eyes were pleading as she avoided his gaze. She placed her hand on my arm. My eyes softened at the sight of her distress. A pang of guilt tugged at my chest. The pain on her face was enough for me to step back. However, I rammed my shoulder into Jockstrap’s as I walked past, knowing he wouldn’t do a thing.
I didn’t stop walking until I reached the parking lot. In a dark corner, I leaned against the wall. My fingers retrieved a cigarette from my pocket, and I lit it with practiced ease. As I took a drag, my eyes wandered to the rows of cars landing on the familiar Mercedes. My mind whirred with mischief.
A devious smirk spread across my lips as an evil idea took shape in my mind. With a glance around to ensure there were no witnesses, I approached my dad’s truck, popped open the toolbox in the backseat, and retrieved a set of tools.
With practiced efficiency, I removed the lug nuts from each wheel. My hands were steady despite the coursing adrenaline. As I worked, the thoughts of his dumb little face seeing this caused sinister pride to wash over me. With a triumphant smile, I stepped back to admire my work. I wasn’t done.
Reaching into the back of the truck, I retrieved a can of spray paint. My fingers itched with anticipation. I defaced the expensive vehicle, my movements fueled by rage and satisfaction. The rush of adrenaline left me breathless and exhilarated. Good luck getting to your date with the Snow Queen.
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Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14 (Reading here)
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
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- Page 27
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- Page 37
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- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42