Dee’s Revenge

by Sydney, 14, from Ohio

[A sequel to “Showdown” by Tim Shoemaker—April issue, pages 24-27.]

Dee’s words echoed in my head.

“You’ll be sorry,” she whispered, seconds before I revealed she had stolen Grayden’s phone.

Dee had been suspended from school for a week. This was her first day back. She had been ignoring me since she walked in the door.

Maybe she forgot, I thought to myself.

The bell rang for lunch. I began gathering my things, when Dee walked over to me.

“Thanks to you, I got grounded for a month,” she said angrily. Then she smiled. “You’ll be sorry.”

The next week, people pointed and laughed at me whenever I passed them. Even though I went to a Christian school, some of the kids could be pretty mean. I sat by myself at lunch—even my little sister, Hannah, refused to sit with me. I found out Dee had been spreading rumors about me.

Dee passed me as I finished my lunch. “You’d better get used to it,” she said, “because this is only the beginning.”

“Why are you doing this?” I said. “I was only doing the right thing.”

“Well, it was the wrong thing,” Dee said, still smiling. “You made me miserable, so I’m going to make you miserable. You should have just let me keep that phone.”

“You stole that phone.”

Dee’s smile faded. “Yeah, and if you hadn’t tattled on me, I would have made you popular.”

“I don’t want that! I just wanted to do the right thing.”

“I see that,” Dee said, smiling again. “Enjoy.”

After lunch was Bible study. Still mad, I tried to put Dee out of my mind.

“Jesus says to love your enemies,” our teacher said, “and pray for those who persecute you.”

I looked at Dee.

God, I prayed silently, I pray that Dee will grow closer to You and learn not to use revenge to make herself feel better.

“People think revenge lets you ‘get even’ with your enemies,” our teacher continued, “but revenge is a sin. It only makes problems worse.”

I looked back at Dee. She had her head bowed, like she was praying.

At the end of school, Dee came up to me.

“I’m really sorry for being so mean to you,” she said. “I felt like God wanted me to stop being like this.”

I smiled. “That’s OK. I forgive you.”

“You know,” Dee said, smiling—a real smile for once, “I could still make you popular if you’d like.”

“No thanks.”

“You’re weird,” she joked. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Elizabeth.”

I waved as my new friend left the classroom.

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