Beginning of my revenge

What I awoke to was not the silky comfort of Rachel’s lavishly expensive bed sheets. Nor was it the springy but familiar mattress of my own bed.

In fact, what I woke up on was no bed at all.

Beneath me was a park bench, one of the rare few without any anti-homeless measures. I wasn’t sure what could make Rachel abandon her absurdly comfortable bed to sleep like a vagabond, but considering the last few days I couldn’t exactly say I was surprised.

I sat up and looked down at myself. I was wearing the same clothes I had been wearing two days ago, which had begun to look very dishevelled. I had tried to dress somewhat conservatively since I had assumed Rachel wouldn’t want me wearing anything that would draw attention, but the trousers I had put on were now ripped along the legs. If I thought I looked like a hobo in my own body, Rachel’s was there to show me what ‘hobo’ could really mean.

Judging by the fact that my breasts and pelvis were in serious pain, and since I was no longer desperate to use the toilet, I assumed Rachel had gotten desperate and ripped the clothes she had glued to herself off her skin. Bloody idiot, spiting no one but herself.

I stood up from the bench, trying to ignore the pain, and began to walk around the streets. I had woken up early in the morning so there was almost nothing open, but that just gave me more time to plan.

Rachel had kept her purse and phone on herself, something she hadn’t bothered with when in my body, which gave me a chance to mess with the one thing she had yet to mess with herself: money.

Walking down the street, I saw plenty of places where I could frivolously spend every penny Rachel had. An expensive cafe where I could pick up breakfast, a designer clothes shop where I could replace these trousers with something thrice the price, so many options to inconvenience the rat bastard who’s done nothing but senselessly hurt my body.

First, though, I had to see how much money she actually had.

She didn’t carry cash, but there was both a debit and credit card in her purse. It took a bit of wandering around, but I found a cash point where I could check her bank balance.

As I had suspected, despite living the NEET life, Rachel had far more money on hand than I did. Her bank account read £10,032.56, and that didn’t even account for how much extra I could spend on her credit card.

Perfect. That meant I could savour draining her funds over a longer period of time. If there was only a few hundred pounds to her name, this all would have been over before I had a chance to really enjoy it.

I withdrew the card from the machine with a smile on my face. This revenge was about to get exciting.

I stepped away from the cash point, but as I did I noticed my reflection in the glass on the wall. Rachel’s cheeks were more sunken in than I remembered, and the dark circles under her ears did little to help that. The beautiful face that I had seen in the mirror a few days ago was now uncomfortable to look at.

I wondered how poor her health had gotten in such a short amount of time so, making sure no one was around to see, I lifted my top enough to see everywhere below the breast. Rachel’s ribs were easily visible. It was clear she had barely eaten anything in days.

I was in two minds about this. It was nice to know that Rachel had been ruining her own life just as much as she had mine, but I had wanted the satisfaction of doing it myself. It felt like I had missed out on some of the fun.

Sighing to myself, I began making my way back towards the cafe I had seen before.

As I walked, I figured I’d flick through her messages to see if I could piece together what had happened in the last 24 hours. Unfortunately, there were no such messages. Far from it, in fact: the numerous group chats that Rachel had previously had on her recent messages were completely gone.

I wondered what could compel Rachel to cut off all contact with everyone she knows, but I didn’t really care enough to figure it out. Ending her friendships was one line I was hesitant to cross since they’d end up collateral damage despite doing nothing wrong, but if Rachel had already taken care of that for me then I had no guilt to feel.

That being said, when I opened the door to the cafe, I was surprised to be greeted by a familiar face.

“Grace, why’re you he-“

I was cut off by her spitting in my face.