Chapter 5

Tara saw an elderly woman fall on the sidewalk and, being the kind-hearted person she was, helped her up.

The woman turned around and accused Tara of pushing her down.

She checked herself into the hospital and refused to leave, claiming Tara had paralyzed her.

In front of the media, the woman twisted her wrinkled face into a mask of self-righteousness.

"I'm just an old woman," she said. "I never lie."

Her family jumped in, shouting, "If she didn't push you, why did she help you? Guilty conscience, huh?"

So, I waited for my chance.

I kidnapped that old hag, strapped her to the back of an electric scooter, and ran her over again and again.

By the time I was done, she got her wish. She was permanently paralyzed.

This time, I couldn't get away with it. Security cameras caught everything.

I've hated cameras ever since.

Since I'd hit the legal age for criminal responsibility, I was sentenced to one year and eight months in prison.

With good behavior, I only served a year.

Good behavior was easy—I ruled the place. No one dared cross me, and I lived like a queen inside those walls.

The vibration of Tara's phone pulled me out of my thoughts.

It was a message from those bullies.

"Make sure you come back next semester. We're not done playing with you."

Playing? I thought, a cold smile spreading across my face.

They have no idea who's about to start playing with them.

I turned to my mom, forcing a sweet, innocent smile.

"Do I look like Tara?" I asked.

She flinched, her voice trembling as she answered, "Y-yes…"

That winter break, I did only one thing: I collected every piece of information I could about those bullies.

I found a class video someone had posted on social media—one of those cheesy school projects where everyone talks about their dreams.

Watching it now was almost laughable.

The brown-haired girl stood confidently in front of the camera, speaking with conviction.

"My name is Wendy Young. My dream is to become a philanthropist, to help those in need, to make sure no one goes hungry or cold ever again."

Wendy lived in the upscale neighborhood of Riverwood Estates. I took a temp job as a delivery driver in the area, keeping a close eye on her house.

Her dad, one of the school's board members, owned a successful company. Her mom was a high-profile attorney.

With parents who were always busy, Wendy was spoiled rotten and given free rein to do whatever she wanted. She'd become the queen bee of not just our school, but several others nearby.

Rumor had it that Wendy once beat up a girl at a karaoke bar just because they were wearing the same outfit. The girl eventually jumped off a building, unable to cope, but the story mysteriously disappeared from the internet.

Her two sidekicks were no better.

One wanted to be a doctor, to "heal the sick and save lives."

The other dreamed of becoming a teacher, to "educate and inspire the next generation."

In reality, they were Wendy's lackeys, doing her dirty work in exchange for favors and protection.

Then there was the guy, Carl Stone.

In the video, he flexed his muscles and bragged, "My dream is to become a cop, to take down criminals and serve justice."

Carl was nothing more than a spoiled rich kid, hopelessly infatuated with Wendy. She strung him along, and he followed her like a lovesick puppy.

For fun, he spread disgusting rumors about Tara, Photoshopped obscene images of her, and even edited fake obituaries.

Does karma exist in the world of school bullying?

If it doesn't, I'll make sure it does.