61: Sixty-one.

Revenge 61: Sixty-one.

Revenge “Mishelia’s suicide has increased the average quality of the women in Belfast by fourteen percent.”

Downstairs in the restaurant, Gina was chatting eloquently to her companion.

The companion across from her chuckled dryly, being one of the few who did not partake in the gossip and truly felt sorry for Mishelia.

It was precisely because of this that Gina tirelessly tried to convince her of the outrageousness of Mishelia’s actions, attempting to change her opinion—

Aileen offered a strained smile, like a friend who had heard an uninteresting topic but had to nod along: “Isn’t that a bit too much…?”

“Please!

I’ve told you so many times how awful that bitch was!” Gina exaggeratedly widened her eyes, her face filled with disbelief, and stood up to shout loudly.

She only sat down with some embarrassment, lowering her voice swiftly after noticing that everyone in the restaurant had turned to look: “You’re actually defending her…”

“But I think she was driven to suicide by all of you…” Aileen said, suddenly feeling a chill around her, growing restless, and shifting in her seat.

“Why would you think that?

Does her death mean all her sins are erased!?” Gina couldn’t believe it, puffing up with anger as she stood up and shouted once more, loud enough for the entire restaurant’s patrons to hear, in a shrill, slightly off-pitch voice: “You can’t tell right from wrong, now I need to reconsider our friendship!”

She picked up her skirt and left her seat, making her way out of the restaurant amidst a sea of astonished looks.

Aileen was among those startled, until the waiter approached the table.

“Miss, that will be eighteen shillings.”

…

“Why would anyone think she’s innocent!

Apart from being pretty, what’s so good about her, why is she forgiven for such nauseating mistakes…”

What should have been a bright gaze was filled with trembling hate and resentment, as Gina cursed under her breath.

It seemed that by doing so, she could dispel the fear inside her for having caused Mishelia’s death.

Yes, the initial source of the rumors had been Gina, spreading outwardly.

Her reasons were simple: jealousy.

As the instigator, Gina reveled in the rumors she concocted, discussing them with an increasing number of classmates and delighted when others joined in.

She enjoyed seeing the girl who once helped her classmates and was the object of all boys’ admiration become despised by everyone.

And she took pleasure in the abhorrent history about Mishelia that kept surfacing—though she doubted their veracity.

But when the news of Mishelia’s suicide broke, Gina finally felt fear, realizing things were irreparable.

Not out of guilt, but out of fear Mishelia would return as a ghost to seek revenge on her.

After all, she was the source.

Gina was well aware the rumor she spread was an outright lie, so she clung to other lies like a lifeline, believing they were the truth, that they had really happened to Mishelia.

Only by doing so could she alleviate her own fear, letting disdain for Mishelia override the fear of her.

This was evident in how Gina would fervently share Mishelia’s “crimes” with her friends, trying to get them to join in the censure.

Her friends initially joined Gina in her accusations, but as she kept incessantly bringing up Mishelia, they began to grow weary and started avoiding Gina subconsciously.

Gina hadn’t noticed her friends had begun to distance themselves from her, even having an argument that day with her best friend Aileen.

But she did notice the chill, as her exposed skin raised goosebumps layer upon layer.

“Damn this ghostly weather!”

She cursed through clenched teeth, hastening back to the emptiness of her home on the same street.

Thud.

She shut the door, resting against it and catching her breath for a moment.

The familiar sights dispelled a bit of the cold and the fear inside her.

She took off her shoes at the entrance, slipped into soft slippers, and walked towards the bedroom.

Thump— Thump— Thump—

Gina was startled, her head turning abruptly toward the door behind her.

The knocking was coming from her own home’s door.

Thump— Thump— Thump—

The slow knocking sounded once more.

“Who’s there?”

Gina called out, but there was no response from outside the door.

Her parents were still busy in the store at this time, so there shouldn’t have been anyone coming to the house then.

Puzzled, Gina picked up a wooden stick beside the door, walked to the front of the door, and peered out through the peephole.

The corridor outside was empty, with dimness roaming through the narrow space.

Standing up straight and pulling back her gaze, Gina muttered something doubtful.

But at that moment, a chilling voice suddenly sounded from behind her.

“Found you.”

“Ah!

Who’s there!?” Gina screamed, spinning around.

As she saw the silhouette in front of her, her eyes slowly widened in anticipation.

“Mishelia… Ahhhhh!”

Her body was covered in goosebumps, her back pressed against the cold security door with a thud as she let out a scream, “Are you a living person or…”

She suddenly couldn’t continue speaking, despair flooding her mind like icy water, rendering her incapable of thought.

Mishelia’s eyes were blood red, her hands as hard and cold as iron pincers, gripping Gina’s neck.

As Gina regained the ability to think, she weakly pounded Mishelia’s arm while gasping, “Don’t kill me…

please, I was wrong… I shouldn’t have done that…”

But the hand only tightened more, the excruciating sensation of suffocation unbearable, and she couldn’t help but curse out loud, “Why…

Why are you so perfect…

everyone revolves around you!

I can’t stand it!

I can’t stand it!!!!”

The hand continued to squeeze relentlessly, Gina’s neck bones emitting a hair-raising creak.

Her eyes rolled back, her legs kicked weakly, and the idea of taking a breath seemed impossibly far away.

Gina longed for Mishelia to loosen her grip slightly, then to answer her.

But she was in despair, for Mishelia was unresponsive; Gina didn’t see the imagined anger and resentment.

Mishelia just gazed at her indifferently with eyes red as blood, as if she were looking at a trivial stranger.

She had come for revenge.

As her brain began to shut down from lack of oxygen, a dark wet stain spread across Gina’s long dress, reaching down to her ankles.

The pale yellow liquid seeped into her slippers on her feet and dripped off the tips, an unbearable stench spreading.

At that moment, the hand choking her neck finally began to loosen, gradually letting go.

Gina’s form collapsed, slumping into her own urine.

Her eyes rolled back, leaning against the door, saliva unknowingly trickling from the corner of her mouth.

Mishelia silently watched her dazed appearance, her form slowly fading away.

Mishelia hadn’t done anything; she had simply appeared before Gina, letting the black halo lure out the darkness within Gina’s own heart.

The hand that choked Gina’s neck belonged to Gina herself.

It was Gina who had driven herself mad.