Beyond the River's Edge

Name: Beyond the River's Edge
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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The last thing I remembered was the freezing water closing over my head, Brittany' s triumphant smile the final image in my mind. Then, a gasp. I shot up, coughing, not in the dark river, but in my bed, sunlight streaming through the window. Had it all been a nightmare? The public shaming, getting fired, the whispers, the utter despair that drove me to that river' s edge? A self-satisfied hum from the living room shattered the illusion. Brittany. My heart hammered. This wasn' t a nightmare. It was a second chance. Memories flooded back: my sweet, bubbly roommate turning into a viper. She started using my online identity, my photos, twisting them into something sordid. When I confronted her, she just laughed, "Chloe, don' t be such a prude. They love it. It' s just a bit of fun." I went to HR, but she got there first, twisting the story, painting me as a jealous, unstable friend. They believed her. The photos became more explicit, sent from my work email. I was publicly humiliated, labeled an exhibitionist. My boss couldn' t look me in the eye. The company fired me to "protect its image." My career, everything I' d worked for, was gone. Brittany thrived. She took my job, my desk, my life. She stood on the ashes of my career and pretended she was a hero. The final blow was the public scandal that nearly cost me my life. And then, it did. As the current pulled me under, she had won. But now I was back. The girl who died in that river took all my innocence with her. What was left was a cold, burning desire for revenge. And as I lay there, listening to the clicks of her camera, I knew exactly how I was going to get it.

Betrayal Revenge Rebirth/Reborn Workplace Kickass Heroine

Chapter 10

07-04 16:50

Introduction

The last thing I remembered was the freezing water closing over my head, Brittany' s triumphant smile the final image in my mind.

Then, a gasp. I shot up, coughing, not in the dark river, but in my bed, sunlight streaming through the window.

Had it all been a nightmare? The public shaming, getting fired, the whispers, the utter despair that drove me to that river' s edge?

A self-satisfied hum from the living room shattered the illusion. Brittany.

My heart hammered. This wasn' t a nightmare. It was a second chance.

Memories flooded back: my sweet, bubbly roommate turning into a viper. She started using my online identity, my photos, twisting them into something sordid.

When I confronted her, she just laughed, "Chloe, don' t be such a prude. They love it. It' s just a bit of fun."

I went to HR, but she got there first, twisting the story, painting me as a jealous, unstable friend. They believed her.

The photos became more explicit, sent from my work email. I was publicly humiliated, labeled an exhibitionist. My boss couldn' t look me in the eye.

The company fired me to "protect its image." My career, everything I' d worked for, was gone.

Brittany thrived. She took my job, my desk, my life. She stood on the ashes of my career and pretended she was a hero.

The final blow was the public scandal that nearly cost me my life. And then, it did.

As the current pulled me under, she had won. But now I was back.

The girl who died in that river took all my innocence with her. What was left was a cold, burning desire for revenge.

And as I lay there, listening to the clicks of her camera, I knew exactly how I was going to get it.