Word Prompt Of The Day III

Look at him. Sprawled out on his thousand-dollar rug in his two-hundred-dollar jammies.

What a jerk-off.

He’s even more pretentious in person. I mean, who spends more than twenty bucks on sleepwear anyway? He doesn’t even have a girlfriend. Sitting there jerking off to a reality TV show. Weirdo.

Thomas, who was still unconscious after the blow to his head, was beginning to stir.

Hmm, still alive. How unfortunate. The attacker smirks.

It took much restraint not to kill Thomas. The attacker had followed him for weeks before deciding to make a move. It wasn’t easy picking the right moment to break into his condo. Thomas almost always had that big black guy babysitting him. They had to go to extreme lengths to ensure his “handler” didn’t return to Thomas’ place that night. The attacker wasn’t proud of what it took, but it worked.

But for how long? They had to move quickly. Getting caught now would be a waste. And the attacker was pretty sure if it was the “handler” that caught them, they wouldn’t be handed over to the authorities—instead, they’d be “handled.”

The attacker, now standing over Thomas, slowly lowered to his level, drawing the weapon from their back and aiming it at him. They began tapping Thomas’ forehead with it. Thomas’ eyes flew open. At that moment, the attacker felt a flash of excitement. They’d been waiting for this moment for too long.

He thought he got away with it. Here he is, living his privileged little life with his privileged little job, carrying on without a worry in the world. I’ll show him. The attacker gritted their teeth.

The attacker despised people like Thomas. People like him felt they could take whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it, without consequence. Without remorse.

They would show him. They would teach him a lesson he’d never forget. They’d make him suffer.

He thought no one noticed what he did that night. But I was there, and I remember everything.

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