The Card
As she took a deep breath and looked deeply into my eyes, her crooked smile conveyed a sense of determination. The SD card in her hand was a weapon that could destroy my world as I knew it, and she had every intention of using it to her advantage. “Fourteen thousand dollars,” she repeated playfully, teasing me by casually tossing the card back and forth between her hands. Despite feeling the beads of sweat trickling down my back and the tension constricting my chest, I mustered the courage to confess that I didn’t have that kind of money. “Well, then your life is over, I guess,” she said amusingly as she closed her hand around the incriminating evidence, revealing that I was not who I claimed to be. I knew this would ruin everything I had worked so hard for and make me look like a fraud. The thought left me feeling helpless and sad.
As she turned to walk away, her butterfly dress fluttering gracefully around her, I felt an overwhelming sense of desperation. I knew that my life could be ruined in a single moment if she disappeared with the SD card. I called out to her and begged her not to do it. She seemed to stop and consider my appeals, staring at me with a different expression in her eyes. Suddenly, the blackmailer’s evil glint was gone, replaced by a glimmer of mercy that gave me some hope. She took a deep breath and reluctantly walked back to me, her hips swaying like a triumphant queen.
“Here,” she said as she opened her hand and presented the SD card to me. I felt a sense of relief wash over me, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered, my gratitude oozing out of my every pore. “Thank you so much!”
As she smiled broadly again, I felt a surge of hope. But then she added, “You can keep that one. I have another copy. And now my price is fifteen thousand.” Her playful manner dashed my hopes once more, and I sunk to my knees, feeling sick to my stomach. I knew I had no choice but to pay.
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Tate Basildon 