The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Brandon’s POV 

I felt the bridge sway but ignored it because I was focused on the water, assessing how far it was from the bridge to the river below. However, the swaying continued, and I realized I wasn’t alone.

I shifted my gaze to my left and that’s when I noticed something unsightly; her gaze was fixated on the river below too. She was dressed in a strange-looking sweater, similar to those worn by grandmothers. A hideous outfit and strange brown shoes hidden beneath it. My heart began racing because she was clutching a rubbish bag.

I could only assume she was from having an abortion and was seeking a spot to bury the baby’s remains. I was speechless as 1 clutched the railings and peered at her. She kept creeping closer to me, much to my amazement, but she had no idea that she wasn’t alone on the bridge

The bridge shook with each movement she made, and I was confident it couldn’t support both of our weights, but I just stared at her. She finally got to where I was and brushed her frigid palm on my fingers, causing her to scream in terror.

She was a scary catty for someone who had just climbed an old bridge. She was so afraid that she nearly fell over, but I caught her and she grasped my arms and the bridge began to swing back and forth.

I was certain it was my end but the shaking stopped and there was calm for what seemed like an eternity. I felt my veins pop as she clutched me so firmly, not like I was exaggerating, but I felt them snap, and then there came the terrible scent from

her hair.

The woman not only had a bad sense of style but she had a terrible choice of hair shampoo or she just never washed her hair at all.

She finally let go and looked up at me, she wasn’t ugly, and she had a good pair of brown eyes, but they were swollen like she had been crying for days or even weeks. Her awful hair made me sneeze, and all my spit ended up on her face.

I do not mean the usual spit but the one that contained dark slimy blood, with some greens and grains of my lunch. For someone who was going to commit suicide, I should have gone easy on my lunch.

It was embarrassing but she shut her eyes for a moment before opening them again. To be honest she really had a beautiful set of eyes. I kept my mouth shut and waited for her to react, but all she did was stare at me with sad

eyes.

I knew I was supposed to apologize, but she didn’t say anything, and she didn’t say bless you, so we just stared at each other awkwardly.

She snapped out of the stare, moved a little, and motioned for me to pass behind her, but I remained stationary. “You can pass behind me, there is enough space,” she said without looking at me.

“Who said I was going anywhere?” I responded in a cold tone and drew my cowl over my face as she peered up at me, forcing me to look away. I wasn’t the type to enjoy folks staring at me and feeling sorry for me.

There was a time when I loved it when people, especially chicks stared at my handsome face. I loved the attention and drooling but all that changed. My face was nothing but a pile of grey pale sadness.

“You pass behind and go your way.” I requested her.

“Who said I was passing?” She retorted, forcing me to stare at her p*ssed, even though I had no idea who she was but she began irritating me..

“Excuse me ma’am, but you found me here, therefore I recommend you find another bridge to toss whatever is in your plastic,” I said firmly.

She gazed down at the plastic in her palms before raising her eyes to mine. Suddenly, tears streamed down her cheeks like a waterfall as if I’d said something insulting, I told myself, “This is fantastic.”

“Fine, chuck it, but next time go to an abortion hospital instead of risking your life.” I remarked out loud, prompting her to give me a confused expression that quickly transformed to rage and she began smacking me in the face with the plastic bag

“You fool, these are my clothes!” She yelled out,

As I coughed severely, I shouted back at her, “Why didn’t you toss them in a bin instead of coming here?” My chest felt heavy and painful this time, so I coughed loudly, covered my mouth, and dark clots came out.

Fear crept into me as I coughed, causing the bridge to sway back and forth. She drew nearer to me and took. hers. I was certain the bridge would collapse, but after a few minutes, it came to a halt.

my

hand in

I yelled at her. “Get off of me!”