Song: Pity Party - Melanie Martinez

With a pondering head, an empty stomach, and an exposed body, Trudy collapsed on her luxurious bed.

She had no idea how she drove to the mansion in her hysterical state. The place she called home was empty, and for once, Trudy was glad it was. Nobody would witness her devastation. Still, Trudy was a tad bit sad that no one cared enough.

Trudy was a nobody, exposed, and neglected, and she was afraid it finally started to surface. For years, Trudy had been between her built walls, shielding herself from the world and hiding her inner ugliness. Trudy could see cracks now, almost as if these walls would collapse on her and suffocate her to death.

Her sore scalp was itching, and her aching body was trembling as she sobbed onto her pillow. Her Givenchy mascara and whatever remained from her makeup was painting her cotton soft cushion an ugly picture. Fortunately, it wasn't uglier than her fate.

Her mind was so filled that it was about to explode. Everything that happened to her tonight was playing in her head like a broken vinyl, reminding her that she was nothing but a toy in the hands of others; Eva's diaries, Zarek's playtime, and Justin's punching bag. She was not a valuable person, but a replaceable object.

She could even picture a nurse in her head, handing her to her parents and saying: 'Here's your finished product. Feel free to return it if it showed any signs of dysfunction.'

Justin went too far this time. She did provoke him, but he had no right to raise his hand on her, or to rip her clothes at all - that dress was Dior, it was more expensive than Justin's entire wardrobe.

But she didn't care about that stupid dress more than that disgusting kiss. Justin had violated her in so many ways, and if this was her confident self, then she would have been plotting her revenge plan by now - hell, her confident self wouldn't have let things go this far in the first place. That girl was gone, and instead, Trudy got her insecure, awkward, and weak self back.

Her feelings were a mixture of shame, self-hate, and on the edge of depression all over again.

Trudy's broken eyes widened as her whole body tensed when the door burst open. Sandra, out of all people, walked in on her.

"So the Princess is finally home," Sandra retorted, "How many times have I told you not to steal my stuff?" Sandra flipped her blond hair ends over her shoulder. "Especially my accessories."

Sucking in a deep breath, Trudy forced her wobbly feet up. She wasn't in the mood for an episode from her sister. Trudy's leather jacket was zipped, so Sandra had no idea what was underneath. Even if Sandra knew, Trudy suspected Sandra would do anything at all.

Trudy headed for the previously thrown Alexander McQueen bag and handed it to her sister. Sandra snatched the precious little bag, going over Trudy's messy makeup and teary face.

Sandra's turquoise blue eyes widened as she grabbed Trudy's hand in hers. "Is this my Chanel watch? You stole that too?" Sandra accused, elegant eyebrows knotted, "Why are you so obsessed with my things?"

Trudy almost thought her older sister would ask her what happened to her, but Trudy knew that her sister was too selfish and proud. For the record, Trudy wasn't obsessing over Sandra's things, but over Sandra. Trudy wanted to be so much like her perfect sister that Trudy could've cloned herself.

Unfortunately, her mother would never approve. What a useless plastic surgeon.

With an annoyed huff, Trudy slipped the Chanel watch through her wrist and handed it to her. "Here." With dead eyes, Trudy looked straight at Sandra. "Happy?"

Sandra had a perfect eyebrow up, clutching the watch and the handbag. "What's the matter with you?" she asked, eyeing Trudy, "What happened at that dance, exactly?"

"Wow." Trudy chuckled sarcastically, heading back to her comfortable bed. "She cares." Trudy sat on her bed, too insecure to lay down; what if the cellulite in my buttcheeks showed?

Sandra didn't budge, and instead just watched her pathetic sister. "Tell me." she commanded.

Trudy half snorted - her sister wasn't caring, but solely curious. Trudy felt like she was about to explode if she didn't get it out of her system. Trudy knew her sister wasn't the right person to tell, but Trudy had no one else. Her only real friend was Eva, and Trudy was sure that Eva wouldn't be interested enough, too busy daydreaming about Zarek.

So before she even knew it, Trudy burst into tears, sobbing like never before. Even though Sandra sat next to Trudy, she wished her sister had done more than that. She wished for Sandra to kiss her, to hug her, or just comfort her with kind words, but that was too far fetched. So instead, Trudy settled with Sandra's attention, which was also what she wanted, and recited to her every single thing.

The second Trudy was done puking her emotions, she regretted it. Not only did she make a fool out of herself with her broken sentences and unchained ideas, but she just told Sandra her deepest, most secretive thoughts and feelings. She had no idea what her evil, wicked sister would do with that kind of information, but she was certain Sandra would hold it against her, adding them to the list of why Trudy would never stand up to Sandra's level.

"Let me get this straight," Sandra chuckled, turqoise blue eyes gleaming with triumph while her full lips twitched in a satisfied smile. "He yanked your hair, forced himself on you, and ripped your dress?" Sandra shook her head, her blond hair ends moving along, their bright color contrasting Sandra's dark roots. "Sounds like a rough night."

Trudy glared at her sister through her puffy eyelids. "It was." she hissed through gritted teeth, "Don't make me regret saying anything, Sandra-"

"Since when do you puke?"

Trudy stared at Sandra's smug face, regretting ever opening her big mouth. "Stop it." she whispered, too ashamed to admit it out loud.

Sandra eyed her sister's crunched up face and shrugged, picking at her perfect nails. "Whatever." she said, "What's with the bet again? You said the DICK made it, right?"

Trudy's eyes widened, dry tears stopping her high cheeks from moving. "The what?"

"Zarek Black?" Sandra rolled her turquoise eyes dismissively, waving a hand in the air. "He's known in my college as the king of one night stands. Cringe-worthy, I know. He's also the son of Theodore Black, owner of Black Industry. Not to mention, they're richer than us," Sandra made a face, envious of Zarek's wealth.

"I had no idea Zarek had a reputation outside of my high school." Trudy said.

"Not just your high school and my college; he's Dessertville's Infamous Cold King." Sandra said, "Or DICK for short."

Despite everything, Trudy laughed. Her giggles were weird and short at first, hiccuping awkwardly every so often. But then, her laughter increased dramatically, and Trudy couldn't stop it. It was similar to her hysterical state in the bathroom.

Sandra slapped Trudy so hard that the sound echoed. "Shut up!" Sandra hissed, snaky eyes narrowed, "You're so annoying, I can't believe you."

Trudy's stinging, stiff cheek had a red mark, her hand subconsciously covering it. The slap was so unexpected that it could've taken Trudy's sanity. She had no idea how to react when her role model just slapped her other than gaping.

"I've had it with you." Sandra hissed, inching closer, "Listen to me carefully, little sister, and do what I say. You're not telling anyone what happened to you tonight, do you understand?"

"But-"

"Do you understand the humiliation you brought to this family?" Sandra roared, "Our family had been socially scarred enough with your middle school affair, and it doesn't need you to make it any worse."

Trudy burst into tears again. "Am I supposed to let him get away with it? He harassed me, Sandra! I'm sure dad can-"

Sandra laughed at this. "Silly girl." she tutted. "Do you really think dad will want to be that lawyer his daughter was harassed again?" she said, "You will just stain his law company, just like you stained his family."

Trudy kept her mouth shut. She couldn't disagree with Sandra's words, and that hurt her. Her sister was giving her one of the usual discouraging sessions, and so far, Sandra succeeded.

"Even if mom and dad knew, do you think they'd do anything?" Sandra sighed, looking at her little sister as if she cared. "Take it from me, little sis. Don't tell. Keep whatever left of your dignity."

Trudy sniffed her tears. "So you're basically telling me to let Justin walk all over me."

"No," Sandra sternly said, "Of course not. We're gonna make him pay."

Trudy's eyes shone in hope. "How?"

"Guilt is the best revenge."

Trudy frowned. "I'm punishing him by making him feel guilty?"

"Yes," Sandra said, "He will come back begging for forgiveness, and when he does, you'll make him feel so much guilt it will keep him up at night."

"You want me to... act weak in front of him?"

"Yes," Sandra beamed, "The more pathetic you act, the better."

Trudy gulped. "I-I can't." Her entire life, Trudy had acted tough. She had suppressed the tears and sucked in the pain. She was convinced that weak, pathetic, and broken were the ugliest emotions. Now, for her to reveal and show them, it was harder than acting strong.

"You have to," Sandra said, "A girl needs to know how to use her emotions as weapons. Acting tough will save you some pity, but sometimes, pity might be what you need."

"But I don't want pity," Trudy said, "Pity is disgusting."

"Not if you don't want it to be," Sandra said, "Trust me, I know. Pity might be your strongest tool."

Even though what Sandra suggested made sense, Trudy didn't want to admit it. She needed to steer the conversation away from her, to be out of the spotlight. Trudy felt too exposed, already regretting her decision of telling Sandra. Trudy didn't feel better or relieved like she had expected after pouring out her chest, but naked and vulnerable.

Wiping her tears and smoothing her tangled hair, Trudy glared at her sister with mock confidence. "You totally opposed me yesterday," Trudy attacked, "You took Eva's side and encouraged her even though you knew about my plan."

Sandra snorted, standing up and looking down at Trudy. "Yeah. The girl has some self-respect, unlike you."

Trudy's heart swelled in her chest, her lungs suffocating her. Her dreamy, brown eyes watered as she watched Sandra held her precious bag and watch and exited, leaving the door ajar behind her - something that annoyed Trudy so much. Once she was alone again, Trudy's first drop of so many to come rolled down her sticky cheek and fell on her thigh, drowning her in her self-loathing.

Is guilt the best revenge?