Cruel Malady by Trisha Wolfe EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Trisha Wolfe
- Language: English
- Genre: Mystery Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Cruelty is a disease.
My second-grade teacher told me this. It was Kyle Sellars—with his
seven-year-old sausage fingers—who snatched my Malibu Barbie and
stomped her into the mud. I stormed after him, tackled him to the
playground dirt, and shoved his chubby face in an ant bed.
His wail silenced the playground as kids formed a circle around us.
Appalled, Mrs. Fisher sent me to the principal’s office for disciplinary
actions. Mrs. Fisher was new that year. She didn’t yet understand that you
do not discipline a Vaughn.
My mother was called into the office. A socialite, Vanessa Vaughn rarely
made trips to her child’s preparatory school. That was the nanny’s job. But
she did that day, and by the next, our class had a new teacher.
I sometimes wonder what happened to Mrs. Fisher. Although I do recall
what she said to me on the playground, her eyes wide and pale face aghast.
Because no one had ever spoken to me like that before.
“Cruelty is a disease, Lauraleigh. It will fester inside you like cancer.”
I was confused. Tubby Kyle was the bully. How was I the cruel one?
Mrs. Fisher had been right, though.
I have a sickness inside me, a black rot.
Infectious to anyone other than me, it’s poison.
Over the years, I noticed I was different, abnormal. People were these
strange emotional creatures that sucked the energy right out of me. It
became more and more draining to try to pretend, to fit in. I took steps to
learn how to blend.
As for Kyle, his pus-filled pimpled face did heal with no outer scarring, but
the internal damage was deep-rooted, the seed of fear planted. He never
fucked with my Barbies again.
So what lessons were learned from that childhood experience?
1. Don’t bother my mother while she’s at spin class. Or ever, really.
2. Authority is easily displaced.
3. Bullies are cowards who respond to strength.
4. And the biggest lesson of all: I am not like others.
The early morning sun glints off the silver spoon in my cup. I stir the
cappuccino foam, the clang of the metal against porcelain a hypnotic
summons as I wait for him.
As the thought turns obsessive, the glass door of the trendy corner coffee
shop opens, and in he saunters. He’s late today. His dirty-blond hair looks
finger-fucked. His cool, metallic-blue eyes are red-rimmed and glassy.
“Strongest you got,” he says to the barista.
An all-nighter, it appears. And his latest conquest…?
I reach into my bag and pull out the black notebook. I didn’t see him leave
the office with a woman yesterday. His Town Car took him to a place where
I wasn’t permitted access, and I watched from across the street as I waited
for him, but he never left.
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