Valentine's Revenge

A cup of coffee, toast, and scrambled eggs. A robe, messy hair, and eye bags like she hadn't slept at all last night.

This was Tamara Valentine and she had eyebags because she hadn't slept at all the last night. She stared at herself in a mirror, slightly disgusted. She took a sip of her coffee before taking a bite of her toast then looked at herself in the mirror again as she munched on the softness of the bread. She took a deep breath.

What kind of fucking life is this?

She walked away from the mirror and sat on a dining chair, resting her coffee cup on the table. Her eyes wandered to a piece of paper with a pen stabbed right through it. The words on the paper read Randal Meyers.

She thought it was poetic, perhaps it made her look crazy; writing her ex-boyfriend's name on a piece of paper and stabbing right through it. She would have gone for drawings but she wasn't much of an artist.

She kept biting from the toast and sipping from her coffee as her mind raced frantically.

The past year of house arrest might have not driven her completely crazy but she knew she had changed. She knew she had hate in her. She was filled with anger and lust for revenge every morning she woke up. She would always plot her return, and what she would do to the man who destroyed everything she had achieved and tried to destroy her.

Unsurprisingly, her mind would always wander to the idea of killing him, but she wasn't sure she had enough hate to drive her to murder someone so it was always a no-go for her.

She tore out a piece of paper from her jotter on the table and scribbled the name Randal Meyers, she stabbed the paper, again and again. She used this as a way to let out some anger and frustration. It kept her sane

What am I doing? She thought to herself, digging her fingers into her hair. It was something she had to deal with every day; questioning herself as to why what happened happened. Most times she thought it was a long nightmare, everything was so horrible that it had to be a nightmare.

She regretted not seeing the signs when they were right there. It all felt too good to be true and she fell for it, completely. Now Randal Meyers was living in some mansion he bought, spending the money he stole from her with her best friend Paige, while she is stuck in her home, denied the freedom of anything like an ordinary tweet.

Apart from the regular visits from her assistant, Elsa Voight she never had physical contact with other people. It was exasperating, to say the least.

She tore out another piece of paper and was about to write down his name once more when her doorbell rang. A confused look was on her face, Who the fuck could that be? She got up almost tripping on her slippers.

"Oh fuck." she put on her slippers and staggered towards the front door, "Elsa is that you? You're kind of early?" The doorbell rang again.

"Well fucking hold on then!" She opened the door. The face she saw was the most unrecognizable face she had ever seen "Who the hell are you?"

"Hello, Ms. Valentine. My name is Malia Goldman."

Tamara stared at her for a second then replied, "Okay, Malia Goldman. What do you want?"

"I believe you and I have a thing in common."

"Really, well what's that?"

"We have a common enemy."

Tamara gave her an inquisitive look, pretending to not be assuming what she meant. "What are you talking about?"

"I used to date Randal Meyers. He destroyed my life just as he did to yours and I want my revenge."

Tamara's eyes widened with curiosity, this was a sign, this was her chance.

"Are you gonna let me in?"

She blinked her eyes, returning to her senses. "Yes," she said, "yes I am."