Revenge


            This is the story of how I taught my younger sister, Marcie, a lesson in keeping her hands off of things that belong to me. It all started in the month of February, 2001 when I was ill and absent from school for almost an entire week. Marcie was supposed to get my homework assignments for me, but I had a lock on my locker which introduced the problem of how she was to get my books. Marcie, being the smart little cookie that she is, decided to test her combination on my lock (out of curiosity), and it just so happened that we have the same combinations. The locks were probably purchased together long ago (I've had my lock since 9th grade), which would provide reason behind the absurdity of two combination locks with the same combination.

            Anyway, I didn't think anything of it at the time because I was happy that she was able to get my books for me. Also, at the time my fever was pretty high so I probably wasn't thinking straight. ;)
A few days later, a friend of mine (thanks Brian) informed me, to my dismay, that he saw Marcie going through my locker during play practice. Now there is absolutly not a single thing in my locker that could possibly be of interest to her, but she felt the need to explore anyway. And she even left me a note. Her explanation for going in my locker and leaving the note - as stated after school today - was because "I was bored!"  Well. How else could one reply to a statement like this other than "Soo.. if you got bored enough, it would be excusable to rob a bank?" She had no answer to this question.

            So anyway, when I found out about what she had done, at first I was ready to go punch her in the head, but then I remembered (Marcie, keeping her hands off of things that don't belong to her, is a frequent issue in our home) that no matter how many times she gets hit in the head, she still never learns.

            So then I thought I'd scream at her for a while (sometimes that has a small effect, at least for the moment, because it's not often that I raise my voice), but then I realized that she obviously hasn't learned her lesson from the last time I screamed at her.

            So I decided that something new was to be done. I decided scaring the crap out of her could possibly be the answer to the recurring problem known as Marcie.

            On Thursday, March 29, 2002, I decided to ask Mrs. Thompson (her homeroom teacher and my Psych. and Soc. teacher) what her locker number was so that I could take all of her books from her locker and keep them until the next morning. That way, she would have no books for any of her classes and she would freak out. However, there are some teachers in that prison of a school who are complete idiots and will give a student detention for the lack of a book (it has happened to me before, so I speak from experience) and some who will lower your grade. I didn't want to be THAT mean. Plus, I told my mom about my original plan and she yelled about how Marcie's grade could get lowered so I shouldn't do it and blah blah blah... So I decided to take only a few books of which I knew she would not need. I also decided to (instead of asking Mrs. Thompson) follow Marcie to her locker (out of her view of course) and find out the locker number for myself. I did that Friday morning before 1st period.
During homeroom I talked to Mrs. Fazio (my homeroom teacher and her spanish teacher) and filled her in on my plan and asked her if it would be okay if I took Marcie's spanish book. She said it would definitely be okay, so during second period I went to her locker.

            She had some type of blue bag hanging from the hook filled with pencils and some other junk so I took that; And I saw her Driver's Theory book (which also had the notebook in it that said "first pd." which was over, so I knew it would be okay to take) so I took that one, too, and I also took her spanish binder thingy. I figured surely by the end of the day she would be panicking because she couldn't find her books. However, she did not notice.

            By the end of the day on Friday, I still hadn't heard anything from her or of her missing any books. The whole car ride home, I was expecting her to say something about it but she said nothing. In fact, the entire weekend went by, and she still had said nothing.
Apparently she didn't even notice what I had done.

            So this morning (Monday, April 2, 2001), I took all of the stuff I had stolen back to school with me in a bag (which remained unnoticed by my sister), and I took that bag to my homeroom and dropped it off and then went to my locker where I met my friend, Julie (who hadn't heard of my plan yet). So Julie and I started walking to homeroom (our lockers are on one side of the building and homeroom on the other) when Marcie ran up behind us screaming "Oh my god!! Melissa, I cant find my drivers theory book!!!" (The Driver's Theory teacher is a bit... well, scary. And remember, she has this class first period).  So I said, "Marcie just go to homeroom," and she was like "Noooooo! I'm gonna die!!!!" and went running down the hall with her arms flailing in the air. Okay so maybe her arms weren't exactly flailing, but they might as well have been. She looked funny. :)

            So I started laughing, and Julie was like "You're so mean!" so I then informed her of what I had done. She laughed, and again said that I was mean, but when I asked "Do you think I should give her books back 'cuz maybe she's learned her lesson by now," and julie said "no!!!" So therefore, she's just as mean as me!

So anyway...

            After I dropped Jul off at homeroom and picked up Marcie's bag of stuff, I headed up to her homeroom and went in and asked one of the people in there where she sat (she, at the time, was running around to all her teacher's rooms asking if she had left the books in there). A kind looking girl informed me that Marcie sat two seats in front of her. So I put the books in her chair and calmly walked back to my homeroom smiling to myself.

            When I got back to my homeroom, Mrs. Fazio said that Marcie came in crying about her lost books a few minutes earlier and that she told her she hadn't seen them (with a straight face). Ya gotta love Mrs. Fazio. She's the most awesome person and is extremely loyal to her homeroom students.
Anyway, about 10 minutes later, I went back up to Marcie's homeroom to check and see if she was in there yet or if she was still running around like a headless chicken. Low and behold, she was in her homeroom, books in hand, and complaining to Mrs. Thompson about what I had done (she somehow managed to figure out that it was me). She saw me looking in from the hallway and came running out of the room with her fists up saying "you almost gave me a heart attack!!!" and in reply, I asked "So, how does it feel to have people going through your locker?" and she was speechless.

            She repeatedly informed me (throughout the day) that  1.  I was evil   and 2.  she had learned her lesson.

            I guess we'll see how long this "I learned my lesson" stuff lasts. Next time something like this happens I'll be forced to go to even higher extremes depending on the situation. But now she knows not to mess with me. Hopefully she really has learned her lesson this time, 'cuz I'd hate to have to get even meaner. I'm not a mean person.
 

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