His

Nobody believed in me. That was their first mistake. And it took the town of Greer decades to get over it.

The thing is, I don't blame them. For not believing in me. I mean, I get it, I do. It's hard to believe in the girl who's covered in dirt with two black eyes and a penchant for tripping on the last stair leading to the library, every damn time. I wouldn't have believed in me either. If I were them.

But what's a girl to do? Sit back and wait for them to believe? Sit back and take it? No way. Not this girl anyways. So I made them believe.

That night, the trees were having a rave; the lightning flashing, the thunder thumping, the rain hammering a beat on the cement. My red dress was soaked through, clinging to my body like it needed me to hold on to it instead of the other way around. I sat on the library step. I had tripped. Again. I watched the rain mix with blood and become a small stream twinged pink running down my calf from the scrap on my knee.

I sat there for a while. Too exhausted. Too tired to keep fighting. No longer begging for their support, their belief. I sat there and wondered what else is a girl to do when the world is against you. When the world is for evil. What other options are there?

As a kid, I was all smiles and rainbows. I believed in the good of people. I believed in second chances. Now I believe in just rewards and that revenge is best served cold. I'd have to thank Bill for that.

Bill is, or was I should say, the golden boy of Greer. His dad owned the town. And Bill followed right in his footsteps. Star athlete, valedictorian. He even volunteered at the women's shelter. Such a philanthropist. That's how I crossed his radar. I mean, we went to school together since kindergarten. But he never noticed me. Not until he was spooning out mashed potatoes for dinner. He gave me an extra helping after asking me why my lip was cut.

He started off sweet. Caring. A smile, a wink. He told me I was beautiful. He'd push my hair behind my ear and whisper about how I was special. His. I went with it. It's hard not to with his eyes focused on you, his lips saying your name, his hands trailing your body. The town's future holding your chin in his hand — I mean, who doesn't fall for that?

And it was nice. It felt good. For a while. Pretending I was special. His.

Cause the thing is, he didn't believe in me. He didn't think I was actually special, destined for more. He didn't see me. He saw a girl who had it hard. A girl that needed something. A girl he could use. And I pretended in the beginning. I enjoyed the words he said and ignored the truth in his eyes. Cause yeah, he focused on me, but because of his own hunger and needs. Not for me or mine.

I was used to being a nobody. I was used to going out of my way to not be seen or heard. My goal was to blend in, stay out of the way with my head down. Work, sleep, eat. Better than what my mom had at least. I didn't want attention. But he made me seen. The golden boy's attention draws everyone's. All I'd hear is what's Bill see in her? What's she got? Yeah, no one believed he'd want me for me either.

Which, of course, they were right. It's just, no one believed I saw it. No one seemed to believe I'd do something about it either.

I sat there, on that library step, in the storm for at least an hour. My lips numb. My body shaking. I sat there until the red and blue lights flashed and cast purple on my feet. I didn't struggle. As they placed me in handcuffs, pushed me into the backseat. I mean, I knew they were coming. I wanted them to come. I called them to be seen.

When Detective Higgins asked me what happened, his face dropped at my answer. Literally. His whole mouth shifted down, his eyes stared at his hands. It was fascinating. The change. He started bored, unsure why I was picked up. A girl like me. What was I capable of, right? As I told him, as I laid it all out, went through every single detail, I watched as he realized the truth. What Greer's inability to believe had cost them.

Detective Higgins asked why. Easy. Because he thought he could take advantage of me, that I wasn't going to fight back. Yeah, I waited. I planned. I planned for a long, long time. Ever since he stood behind the counter and offered me a second scoop. The golden boy, my savior. Yeah, right. Bill had made fun of me for tripping on that library step as a kid.

I told Detective Higgins how I did it. How I'd gotten Bill to come over. How I told him I needed him, wanted him. I told Higgins how Bill liked it kinky. How he'd tie me up, put me in a collar, whip me. How he'd make me beg for more. Only this time I tied him up. And it took some persuasion, sure, but I told Bill it was because he deserved something special. Because I was nothing without him. I was his and he was mine.

And then I told Higgins how Bill's eyes changed. After his hands and legs were bound. After I put a gag in his mouth and told him I didn't want to hear him scream. Bill's eyes were very focused on me when I pulled out the knife.

Nobody believed in me. And I stabbed Bill five times in the stomach. I cut golden boy's throat for good measure.

I bet you they believe I'm capable of a whole lot now.