He hated this town. It wasn’t his home town. He grew up a few miles away, this was merely where he had gone to high school. High school, what a terrible memory that created. He rarely ever came to town. He was happy he didn’t have to drive through to visit his folks. Today was different though. He was visiting his parents and happened to look at the local weekly newspaper.
Glena and Brenda Hillcrest are happy to announce
the marriage of their daughter:
Laura Gene Hillcrest
Jason Alex Kline
His heart stopped.
“What’s wrong sweetheart?” His mother asked clearly seeing his ashen face.
“Did you see this?” He asked.
“Oh yeah, wasn’t that the girl you had a crush on in High School?” She asked innocently, not knowing that the crush had never gone away. He still lay awake a night imagining her, she was still the vision that he saw in his dreams.
“Yeah.” Was all he said. She didn’t recognize the other name, Jason, he was a bastard. If there was one person in the world that he hated, and still hated it was him. He visited him in his dreams too, in those dreams the only happy endings were Jason’s head lolling off to the side as he sliced through his neck, or fragments of skull and blood bursting from the side of Jason’s head as he shot him at close range. No ending could make up for years of ripped clothing, swirlies, wedgies, snake-bites and general humiliation.
He saw Jason in the picture, leering at him, as if to say, I really gotcha now.
For the first time in many years, he snuck out of his bedroom window, 32 years old and sneaking out like he was sixteen. He had the newspaper in his hand, he knew what he had to do.
The fireball of gasoline had exploded as the fiery newspaper lit the homemade bomb, now the school that he had so dispised was beggining to glow orange. Every window a flicker. This time, he won.