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The Art Of Revenge by MK20 Gab Chapter 49 Brandon’s Pov
My fingers twitched as I slept on the bed. The days flew past like wildfire on a windy summer day. A
month had passed.
Was I dead? or did I make a calculation error? Or maybe I was in the afterlife. I gently opened my eyes
to see a familiar ceiling; I was in my house, or was that my new hell?
I closed and opened my eyes again, attempting to figure out if I was still in my room. Maggie’s vacuum
cleaner could be heard.
I stood up immediately, and she waved at me with a smile. I waved back, and she dashed through the
kitchen door, returning with a cup of coffee and handing it to me.
“Am I in hell?” I joked.
“Do I appear to you as a demon?” she joked as she began gathering her belongings. I noticed Thalia
wasn’t in bed when I looked to my left. “Where is Thalia? Is she in the bathroom?” I inquired. Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.
Maggie immediately put on a phony smile after I noticed her face stiffen up. “She’s gone for a walk on
the beach,” she explained.
I nodded, Thalia was never an early riser, she was always last with her snoring and her legs all over the
place, practically suffocating me to death. Something wasn’t right. I stood up hurriedly and placed the
mug on the table.
While I was putting on my robe and preparing to join her outside. Magie said her goodbyes and walked
out of the house. I would have walked out with her but I needed to put on my robe.
As soon as I tried to open the door, I felt my back collapse and I froze while holding on to the door. My
back felt like it was being pulled apart with a j*gsaw. The pain was so terrible that I collapsed to the
floor.
Maggie was most likely already on her way to the helicopter. I lay there, either waiting for the episode
to end or breathing my final breath. I started to feel panicked; there was no way I was going to die
without saying goodbye to my stup*d Thalia.
I attempted to do so the previous night, but she was optimistic that I would wake up because I had
completed all of the days allotted to me. She even had the audacity to refuse waiting for me in the
morning.
Other women would have stayed up all night waiting for me to draw my final breath, but she had opted
to go for a silly beach walk.
Was she unconcerned about my feelings? As I clung to my foolish waist, I wondered if I was reading
too much into her generosity, which was conditional since I was assisting her.
When I requested her to remove my clothes the other day, the stup*d girl mast**bated over my images
in the bathroom.
The only reason we hadn’t had sex was because I was dying, and it would have been unjust and
selfish of me to force her to become attached to me or fall head over heels for me. The most important
rule in the house was to focus on vengeance and shove feelings down the drainage.
I laid down on my back, facing the ceiling, and gave up the struggle. I’d grown accustomed to the
excruciating pain over the years, and there was no point in fighting it. My month was up and the muscle
stretching always ended.
I closed my eyes and absorbed the anguish; it eventually stopped, but blood poured out of both my lips
and nose. I wiped my hands over it and glanced at it; it wasn’t as dark as ordinary blood, and it was
more pink than black.
I felt as if a huge burden was lifted off my shoulders, and I sat there waiting for something that never
arrived.
Brainless Thalia had vanished without a trace. I got up without any aches and pains and walked
outside; it was a week since I had gotten my sick a*s out of the house. As I closed my eyes, the sun’s
rays appeared strange.
My skin felt as if it was getting burnt. I put my palm over my brow and looked for Thalia, but she was
nowhere to be seen.
I noticed the helicopter, which still had Magie inside. My jaw clenched as I realized Thalia was with
dumb Nestor. I was dying inside the house while she was outside with my foolish pilot, enjoying the
morning light. I strolled slowly along the shore, hoping to see them.
Magie began heading towards me as soon as she saw me, but she continued gazing to her left. When I
looked to her left, I realized she was attempting to keep me from seeing her son clutching my brainless
Thalia.
He was tightly clutching her to his chest as if she was going to fly away. His one arm was wrapped
around her and the other was patting her hair.
Maggie approached me and tried to distract me, but I pushed her away. I locked my gaze on the two
p*ssed, they had no idea I was watching them. The two m*rons were cuddling and snuggling while I
was dying inside the house.
A rush of hatred and misery washed over me, and piercing pain in my chest began to emerge. I was
torn between wanting to go back inside and confronting them. My mind went back to all the times she
had excused herself to accompany Nestor out the door.
I used to think they despised each other, but they were secretly hoping I’d die so they could be
together. I was simply a thorn in their way of being together. They didn’t even check to see if I was still
alive or wait for my body to be taken to the morgue.
“It’s not what you think, Brandon?” From behind me, Maggie said.
“Maggie, shut up!” I screamed at her and began marching towards the two cretins. They believed they
could keep their secret until I died but I was given an extra day so that I could catch them in the act.
“You also knew about this, didn’t you?” I paused and glanced at Maggie.
“Brandon, it’s not what you want to think; please calm down!” She begged.
When I coughed, blood and clots splattered all over the place. I didn’t have time to confront her, and
she and her son had already betrayed me. I’d always known they weren’t true people, but parasites
clinging to me for their gain.
“I don’t want to see either your face or your stup*d son’s face!” I said, clearing my throat. I screamed at
her and proceeded on my way to the fools. Maggie’s scream drew their attention to me, and they let go
of each other like two robbers caught red-handed.
Thalia’s eyes were swollen and red as if she had been crying. Was she feigning grief over my death
which she had not confirmed? Was she innocent, or was she guilty? The questions were not important,
I thought to myself.
The fact that she had betrayed me was all that mattered. She dashed over to me, feigning a grin, but I
told her to halt.
“Brandon, you are awake?” After a lengthy stare, she asked, breaking the stillness.
“Did you want me to die in my sleep?” I inquired, my voice solemn.
“No,” she responded with a small chuckle.
I ignored her and focused my attention on Nestor, who, like most of the time, had a blank expression on
his face.
He made it difficult for me to understand what he was thinking at all times. He didn’t look guilty, and
Thalia didn’t either.
“Brandon, let’s go inside,” Thalia suggested but I stopped her with a raised palm. “Wait a minute! You
two are deserving of each other, and you can go live happily ever after.
You should have honestly asked for my blessings and I wouldn’t have denied you rather than going
behind my back!” I spat out.
“What exactly are you on about, Brandon?” she inquired, perplexed. I could give her credit or an award
for being an excellent actress but I was not going to fall for it.
“Brandon, you’re overreacting,” Nestor said, but I ignored him and walked away. I had no intention of
squandering my little time on them. I walked back home swiftly, almost sprinting.
I could hear my name being shouted, but I disregarded it and dashed into the fence, locking it and
triggering the facial recognition system as swiftly as possible, and changing the password.
I was going to die alone and rot alone in my stup*d house, just as I had planned, but instead of jumping
off a bridge, I was going to bury myself in my house. I thought to myself, “Useless human beings,” and
entered the room.
I was inhaling flames and feeling my body heat up, but it didn’t bother me. I was ready to die since the
single person I had let into my heart had deceived me.
I coughed loudly and started kicking everything in my way, then went to the kitchen and got a rolling pin
and started beating anything in my way, starting with the dumb plasma screen. I continued to pound it
until it was shattered and strewn across the floor.
I gathered all of the digital and paper revenge plans and soaked them in the sink to ensure that they
were fully destroyed.
My head was flooded with guilt for all the wasted hours and days preparing and carrying out vengeance
for someone who was already slipping behind my back with my pilot.
We were meant to be celebrating since I had lived out the time allotted to me, but she opted to get up
early and spend her morning in the arms of useless Nestor. I was fighting back tears but failing
miserably.
I’d never sobbed for anyone before, not even when my parents died or when I was diagnosed with my
dreaded disease.
After everything I had done for her, how could she do such a thing to me? I stormed over to the closet
and dragged out all of the idiotic clothing I’d purchased her.
Yes, I was acting like a crazed ex-boyfriend but I didn’t care, though; the stup*d woman despised me. I
carried the clothing into the bathroom, doused them in spirit, and set them ablaze.
Yes, I went too far, but she wasn’t going to utilize them and neither was I going to allow her inside the
house. It was obvious the two idiots planned to wheel themselves over to Nestor’s house and live
happily ever after.
I pledged, though, that I would haunt them for the remainder of their miserable lives.
I was supposed to set the silly chopper on fire so they could walk or swim. But it was too late; going
outside would simply allow them to gain access to my house.
I hurriedly doused the stup*dly burning clothing with water and returned to the bedroom, searching for
anything that reminded me of the stup*d woman. I couldn’t force myself to say her obnoxious name.
When I turned around, I noticed the filthy couch. It reminded me of her, and even the foolish bed
reminded me of her, but I’d spent all of my energy and there was no way I could burn them.
I took my tablet and went to a room opposite the kitchen. If I was going to live another day, it was going
to be my new home.
Maybe the death process needed a catalyst, so I took out my remote and went straight to my wine
cellar.
I picked out the most expensive bottle of wine and proceeded to drink it. I turned on my tablet to see
whether the idiots had departed, but they were still outside, much to my surprise.
Thalia was pounding on the door and crying uncontrollably, while Nestor tried in vain to quiet her down.
She continued to use the old password, but no veil. I guessed that she was crying because I had
caught her red-handed.
To be honest, I didn’t give a d*mn; I continued to drink myself to death while coughing violently, anxious
for death to arrive and take me away.
I kept beating myself up for not jumping that night. Everything was my fault; I should have followed my
foolish gut instincts; what was I thinking?
I always knew how humans were programmed but I dropped my guard. I should’ve leaped off that
bridge.