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A Serpent in My Bed

A Serpent in My Bed

Gavin

5.0
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11
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The smell of stale coffee hung heavy in my college dorm room. My roommate, Jessica, hovered over me, her face a mask of feigned concern. She was my best friend, or so I believed then. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving break, a seemingly ordinary start to a week. But the moment I opened my eyes, a brutal wave of memories crashed over me. The screech of tires, blinding headlights, then utter darkness. My family's beloved restaurant, Miller's Place, crumbling to dust. My dad, debilitated by a stroke, his once vibrant eyes now vacant. My brother, Michael, broken, his promising future stolen. And my sweet sister-in-law, Emily, clutching an empty nursery. Jessica, the viper I'd foolishly welcomed, had meticulously orchestrated their ruin. She'd falsely accused Michael, leading to Emily's devastating loss. Her calculated lies had bled our family savings dry to fuel her extortion. The shame, the whispers, the very fabric of our small town life, torn apart. I, Sarah Miller, became the pariah, blamed for enabling the monster. The relentless online bullying drove me to walk into traffic, desperate for an end. Now, here she was again, playing the innocent victim, sighing about a lonely Thanksgiving. Her eyes, wide and pleading, mirroring the exact look that had sealed our destruction. How could I have been so catastrophically naïve, so utterly blind to the serpent in my bed? A cold, potent fury roared inside me, threatening to consume everything. The nightmare was beginning anew, a cruel replay of my worst past. But this time, I wasn't the gullible girl. I was back, somehow, exactly one year before the catastrophe. This time, the script was mine to rewrite. This time, I would not be her fool, her stepping stone to ruin. This time, Jessica would finally pay. Every last, agonizing cent.

Introduction

The smell of stale coffee hung heavy in my college dorm room.

My roommate, Jessica, hovered over me, her face a mask of feigned concern.

She was my best friend, or so I believed then.

It was the Monday before Thanksgiving break, a seemingly ordinary start to a week.

But the moment I opened my eyes, a brutal wave of memories crashed over me.

The screech of tires, blinding headlights, then utter darkness.

My family's beloved restaurant, Miller's Place, crumbling to dust.

My dad, debilitated by a stroke, his once vibrant eyes now vacant.

My brother, Michael, broken, his promising future stolen.

And my sweet sister-in-law, Emily, clutching an empty nursery.

Jessica, the viper I'd foolishly welcomed, had meticulously orchestrated their ruin.

She'd falsely accused Michael, leading to Emily's devastating loss.

Her calculated lies had bled our family savings dry to fuel her extortion.

The shame, the whispers, the very fabric of our small town life, torn apart.

I, Sarah Miller, became the pariah, blamed for enabling the monster.

The relentless online bullying drove me to walk into traffic, desperate for an end.

Now, here she was again, playing the innocent victim, sighing about a lonely Thanksgiving.

Her eyes, wide and pleading, mirroring the exact look that had sealed our destruction.

How could I have been so catastrophically naïve, so utterly blind to the serpent in my bed?

A cold, potent fury roared inside me, threatening to consume everything.

The nightmare was beginning anew, a cruel replay of my worst past.

But this time, I wasn't the gullible girl.

I was back, somehow, exactly one year before the catastrophe.

This time, the script was mine to rewrite.

This time, I would not be her fool, her stepping stone to ruin.

This time, Jessica would finally pay.

Every last, agonizing cent.

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