Rebecca Stanley took second prize with her blade-sharp story of revenge.
You were bigger and stronger – more powerful than me in every way. Your chubby fingers dug into my skinny arm as you smiled on the outside. The teacher was so pleased you took me under your wing, she never noticed me suffocating. You told Josie I wasn’t her friend anymore and she believed you. By the end, I learned to laugh too when she cried and wet her pants. We never talk about Josie, do we?
Lots of water under the bridge since then of course; husbands, kids, ex-husbands, grandkids – the whole works. Now here we sit: Alone, you and me; husbands gone; kids too busy to visit. Now it’s my turn. My turn to dig my nails into your flesh, my turn to speak for you because you can’t any longer. Now it’s your turn to wet your pants. Terrible things, these strokes. And look; here comes Josie.