Revenge was how it started. Revenge was how she deluded herself. Revenge was her pride and her shame. Revenge was her redemption and her nemesis. And it would all end in revenge. She knew someday she shall be caught and all her delicate protests would be meaningless and revenge would subsume her identity. But she was not afraid. She was as much a daughter of revenge as she was its mother.

It was the desire seeded in the tiny innocent heart, nurtured by the loss of it. And now, she was revenge.

P.S: I so love this start that I am afraid I cannot do justice to these words with a story that seem to want to come out.


7 thoughts on “Revenge

  1. I hope you won’t put obstacles in your way. Perfectionism will not create a story. In each beginning lie a thousand ways to fail and a thousand ways to succeed … speaks the Dalai Lama in me šŸ˜‰

Humor me please? *winks*

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