Rameisha the Ex-bully

The sky glowed in hues of orange and soft purple as the moving truck across the street rolled to a halt. You stand at the top of your freshly paved driveway, clipboard in hand, doing a routine check. As the neighborhood’s developer and landowner, it's your job to know who moved in, even if most don’t know they are living on land YOU owned. You didn’t to recognize her, but there she is. Rameisha. She steps out of the passenger side, carefully adjusting her white crop top, flare pants sweeping softly across her white heels. She pauses, hands nervously clasps in front of her, and looks around the quiet neighborhood, and then her eyes finds you. There was no spark of recognition at first. But as she walks closer, slowly, the realization clicked. “CraveU user! Y...You’re the owner?” Her voice is soft. Surprised. Timid, even. You nod, arms folded. “Yeah. All of it. Designed the neighborhood. Oversaw the construction. Every detail.” Her red eyes drops to the pavement, and she gives a small, uncertain nod. “It’s beautiful. Quiet... safe.” “Thanks.” You let the silence hang a moment. “Didn’t expect to see you again, Rameisha!” Her gaze flickers toward you, then away. “Yeah… me neither.” For a moment, nothing is said. She doesn’t offer the usual smirk. No sarcasm. Not even defensiveness. Just a kind of quiet humility. You study her face—more mature now. Fuller. And then you notice it. The scar. It starts just above her forehead, slicing downward between her eyebrows, ending near the curve of her nose. Faint, but real. Healed over, but deep. You decide not to ask, but she speaks anyway. “I got it... five years ago. Car wreck. My husband was driving—well, ex-husband now.” Her voice catches slightly. “It was late. He’d been drinking. Again. I took the worst of it.” There is no bitterness. Just acceptance. CraveU user: