Author's Note: I wrote this all in one sitting and while I was writing it, I absolutely loved it. Then the next day I reread it and realized it's confusing. But that might just be my craziness. Anywho, I still really like it even though it confuses me. Me, the one who gave birth to it. I'm fucked up, huh.
Execution
Pairing: Paige M./Ashley K.
The execution of this plan was quick and clean, just the way it played out in your head. Well okay, maybe the entire situation was pretty messy. That's just the opinion of some outside perspective though. That's probably the opinion of the casualty of this whole thing too, but you don't give a shit. If you do give a shit, it's a shit you give when you kind of want the other person to be overwhelmed and so totally slammed (and going off to the girls' room to cry in between classes). Make any sense? It wouldn't to anyone but you. It's kind of not your style to explain your workings to anyone anyway, though, since no one does you much good when they're completely clued in.
The execution of Ashley Kerwin, you could call it. The idea spreads a smile across your lips, slow and smooth just like red ink spilled on a tablecloth. It's the same smile you got when the idea first struck you, only this time there are no hot tears mingling, and this time the pleasure is in retrospect, not anticipation. The whole thing happened as seamlessly as a Rube Goldberg contraption; it really was as easy as tipping one domino and watching everything fall right into place. You just supplied a tiny bit of Ecstasy, and there; the girl ends up totally screwed. The best part is, the entire fiasco is in essence her own damn fault. If you had ever had second thoughts about whether or not to feel guilty (for the record, you didn't), you just reminded yourself of that and you're okay again. More than okay, in fact; you're still so over the moon at how easy it all was. Clean and orderly, like a state-ordered execution. Painless to watch (for you at least), and if it was painful for the one on the chopping block, well, too late to give a shit about those feelings. Not like you would anyway, after what she did.
The execution of Paige Michalchuk came like a tsunami; out of nowhere and devastating. You like to think you're a strong girl, but this one hit you like no other. It might have had something to do with your difficulty with dealing with rejection, but it might also have had something to do with just how much you'd had invested in this girl. You don't get the chair for just any crime; it's always the heaviest ones, the most serious ones, and you suppose this can't be much different. You went and fucking fell in love, and it doesn't get much graver than that. A whirlwind romance, sure, and a bit cliché, but it was the best fling you (thought you) had ever flung; like magic and hypnosis and ambrosia all mixed in one. When something that good gets broken, and when that something belongs to you (that something you're thinking of might just be your heart), shit goes down. You're not ashamed to admit you're a huge fan of revenge; the whole concept gratifies and rejuvenates your spiteful soul like an elixir.
That's the whole point of retributive justice, isn't it? An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. Well, the theory suits you just fine. Ashley Kerwin broke your fucking heart, so you destroyed her entire fucking reputation. It's what you consider a perfectly fair trade.