(This is the part after the Cliffehanger, which is where I was going to open the envelope that had the special secret surprise that my friends who were really the Furies gave me.)
I did open it. This is what happened.
I couldn’t take in what I saw at first.
There were two squares of cardboard, one pink, one pale blue. Each of them had a tiny photo of me, which they must have taken off my Facebook site. They looked like membership cards.
They were. One said:
PRIVATE MEMBERSHIP: FAT FARM
This card admits one severely overweigt person to the Bendham Abbey Weigt Loss Club.
(Cindy was bright, but couldn’t spell)
Catagory: Ginger Mingers (G.M).
Name of Member: Gerda Piggius.
Duration of membership: Lifetime.
PRIVATE MEMBERSHIP: LOONY BIN
This card admits one severly loony person and her mother to the Local London Hampsted Loony Bin.
Catagory: Big Heads, Showoffs and Raving Mentalists.
Name of Members: Gerda I-think-I’m-a-Genius Lamb and Call-me-Mummy Lamb.
Duration of membership: Lifetime.
I stood there staring in absolute rage. Then I took the envelope and tore it in two. But I kept the cards as Evidence, and later I would be glad I did, though I shoved them at the back of the deepest drawer in my room. Even there they still managed to eat my brain. Like actual Devils, a pale pink one, a pale blue one, jeering and sneering till I took them out again and read them half a dozen times, and my blood was boiling, and I was crying, but I wasn’t sad, I was just making plans. To kill all three of them, of course.
I didn’t wonder why they did it. I knew straight away. My deepest instinct had always told me that even when they were being nice, those three girls actually hated me. But my Gollum-y side wouldn’t listen to it, because I wanted it not to be true. (And maybe Cindy didn’t totally hate me, but when she did, she knew how to hurt me.)
And it wasn’t just the insult to me. It was the insult to my mummy. (Too late now to wish I had never told my enemies I still called her ‘Mummy’.) Maybe I talked about her too much, but I had less family than they did because I’m an only child, which I like, as I don’t have to put up with brothers and sisters stealing all Mum’s love and attention. (If there were more of us, she’d NEVER email.)
And so I sette off in search of the Furies, who hadde pursued me so pitilessly, hunting me with laughter and with kindnesse. And what I dydde to them will be in Part the Fifth.
(I just remembered I told you already.) (I nearly drowned them in the swimming pool.)
So this is
Honestly, are you reading this, Mummy? Do you care that it actually happened to me? And I was brave? Are you proud of me?