You can’t keep this a secret forever.
What’s that old adage again? Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead. I hope that is not the case for you, but then again, loose lips and all. That’s what they called you when we were young, remember? Well, not ‘loose lips’ but what was it that they called you? Tattle Taler. You like to spill the beans, it gets you off doesn’t it? It used to at least. I still remember the disturbing satisfaction etched into the corners of your mouth when you told me that Sarah girl’s mom had cancer.
Cancer made you smile.
When I think about that now, it makes sense. You know, like when a guy on a motorcycle passes another motorcycle they wave, smile even. Like energy attracts like energy, just like you and cancer. Cancer makes you smile because thats what you are, a cancer. A living breathing disease spreading your shit around like a flood. God, you would love that, wouldn’t you? If a flood came and washed everything away, so that even if that mouth of yours betrayed you, the evidence would be gone.
A girl can wish, I suppose.
Disturbing thought, thinking about what vituperative wishes snake around that filthy mind of yours. Would you wish you could take back what you did? I doubt it. You’ve probably got an extra little pep in your step thinking about what your world will look like now that you’ve done what you did. You’re probably raising a glass in honor of never having to hear words like vituperative being used in everyday conversations. At least, you thought that would be the case.
But it isn’t, is it?
Cause you can still hear all those flavorful words like punitive, culpability, and insentient, can’t you? You didn’t think this would be part of the bargain when you signed up, did you? Oh, but wait. You didn’t sign up, you lead this, this, thing you did. It was your idea. You wouldn’t think I could know that, but from where I am now, God, it’s great, I can see everything. All the heinous little corners of your being. All the little lies bouncing around your head like a pinball, and you were never very good at pinball, were you?
Those lies will take flight.
And then what? What do you think your partner in crime will do to you? Perhaps not dissimilar to what you two did to me. That would be a tasty little bundle of irony, now wouldn’t it? That would be something to smile about, something that would give me that same satisfied little smile you carried around. I would get to try on your face, and–ha–you mine. Not literally, of course, but you would get to see, feel, what it is like to be kissed by Judas. I won’t sugar coat it for you, sister, it’s worse than you could imagine.
But the aftermath…
The aftermath is great. I mean, it’s great for me. I can’t speak to what it would–sorry, will–be like for you. Cause I doubt our aftermaths will be the same. I doubt there would be anything analogous about where I am and where you’re headed. I mean, I could try and warn you. I could use my vantage point for good, but I am a fan of retribution. Lex talionis to be exact, not that I expect you to know what that is, but you can use that wild imagination of yours. So, I’ll just keep my mouth shut, since, if you remember, that was something I was great at, and wait for your day in the sun. And when it comes, I hope the last thing you see is my shit-grin, like how yours was mine. Like I said, lex talionis.