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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2177558-The-Perfect-Storm
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #2177558
Revenge is a dish best served cold. (SCREAMS Flash Fiction Winner)
I hated my home town.

I despised everything about it.

The jocks, the hicks, the smug assholes, the drug addicts, the busybodies, the puritans and most of all: Tyler.

Conjuring up images of his sneering face could give me the willpower to do anything.

When he shoved my head into the dirt and laughed, I began my revenge. After I told the school counselor, he shrugged and insisted there was nothing he could do. So I added him to my list.

It’s remarkable how fast that page of names grew.

Soon I was forced to use an entire spiral notebook, just for the purpose of marking down people and their offenses towards me.

My teacher asked that I present my report to the class. I had written up an extensive essay on global warming and its dangerous effects.

Jeering, Tyler snorted at the facts I presented. “If global warming is real, why is there snow outside right now?” His little group of toadies joined in, snickering.

Mentally, I added them to the notebook.

Despite my well researched paper, the teacher gave me a B and wrote a comment that it was a convincing argument but not to fall for “liberal conspiracy theories”.

I don’t know what I expected, living in a coal mining town. Everyone was in love with the shiny black rocks, willing to send men and children into the earth in search of it.

After school, Tyler and his yes-men dragged me into the alleyway. “Here’s some snow to cool down your nerd brain!” He cackled as they shoved freezing handfuls down my jacket. I ran as they pelted me with iceballs, splitting my lip open and gashing my forehead.

“Go back to mommy and cry!” Tyler’s voice followed as my legs carried me away.

Bitterly, I trudged home.

My mother gasped at my swollen face, muttering that she was going to murder the children responsible. She never failed to make me smile. Happiness was hard to come by ever since my father passed in a tragic mining accident.

When she died, I left town and never looked back. But I never forgot the years of abuse I’d endured.

Using my talent for science, I received a degree in advanced meteorology and atmospheric physics. Without stopping to celebrate, I took a course in aviation; learning how to pilot fixed-wing aircraft.

My certification in hand, I smiled wickedly.

It was time to return home.

Do you know what silver iodide is? Commonly used as an antiseptic, it has an interesting effect when sprinkled in clouds.

Within the rented crop duster, I pressed a button and watched the yellow powder billow into the misty haze.

It was the perfect crime.

Unfortunately for them, everyone I’d remembered was still living in that miserable town. When the obituaries were published, I checked my list like an evil Santa.

Nobody could explain the freak snow storm, plaguing the area for weeks.

Was it man-made? Just a conspiracy if you ask me.

(499 words)
© Copyright 2018 Ray Scrivener (rig0rm0rtis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2177558-The-Perfect-Storm