Day 10: The First Betrayal

Every villain story starts the same: somebody pushed too far.

For me, it wasn’t one big dramatic scene that flipped the switch. It was the same barbs from the same weeds over and over. And it’s not like I didn’t try to grow where I was planted — I watered, I waited, I even dressed the part: new jeans, shiny boots, trench coats brushing my ankles like armor.

But one day I found myself alone, staring at the cuts while someone else poured salt in them. That’s when it hit me: if I wanted to heal, I couldn’t just stand there. I had to leave the whole field behind.

I didn’t know what that meant at first, so I ran — hard. Branches scratched my face as I tore through the woods. In my head, I could hear the town crier calling out the story of the “girl who got away.” I’d like to believe search parties came for me, but the truth is, no one was coming. No one but me.

And if the rumors didn’t stop, there was only one option left:
to become exactly what they said I was.

That was my first betrayal.
And the beginning of my ever-growing love of last laughs.

10 days until Villain.