Payback

Everyone has told an urban tale or heard of one. They are the stuff of rich imagination and ambiguous origin. Urban legends are truths that have been distorted and exaggerated by people to the point that it hardly bears any resemblance to the original story. I heard this urban legend all through middle school and High school. It traveled around my neighborhood since the 70's. I don't know if the people existed or not. Some people say they did. My friends have told me that they know someone who knows someone who knew Bess Marshall and Johnny Matthews. They had her as their teacher for a semester and she was just as mean as they say. Or they'd say that they knew Johnny Matthews and he wasn't as bad as they say. They say she deserved what she got. However, who cares if it is real or not. It is a good story and like the classic film "The man who killed Liberty Valence" The facts can kill the legend.

This urban legend begins on a dark and stormy Friday the 13th; Bess Marshall paused at the top of the stairs and listened. Silence. She lets out a breath. A loud crash of thunder explodes above her house. Her hand jumps to the collar of her red-checkered robe. Each door and window in the house is equipped with state of the art security. No one could break into the house especially, not some snot nosed thirteen-year old little brat, she thinks. It has been three days since Johnny Matthews screamed at her in his broken shrill voice that he was going to get her. He was angry because he was going to be left back this year.

"Ya gonna pay for this ya butt ugly dried up old hag!"

She heard him still and can still see his brown beady eyes turn black and cold when they stared at her. Bess knew she shouldn't be afraid of a thirteen year-old. She ruled all her students with an iron will to compensate for their parents lacking in proper parenting. Today's parents didn't care. Parents today were marshmallows, too involved in their own lives to care about what their children were doing. Bess believed it was her job to keep today's children in line by force if necessary and not by bribery. Bess thought only stupid children were held back a grade. He wasn't complacent like the rest of her students. Bess couldn't control Johnny Matthews like she could control the other children. He was a demon in a little boy's body with a nasty temper. What could he do to her anyway? April Fools day has passed. She was so nervous, on that day she was not able to do anything. Bess could feel it in her bones that little Johnny Matthews was going to do something. But nothing happened. She only sat on the couch all day trembling, biting her nails to bloody nubs, ready for the attack that never arrived.

Bess descended to the foot of the stairs and into her living room. She needed to get a hold of herself. April Fools had passed. However, Friday the 13th was worse. It was a superstitious day and Bess was superstitious. Her anxiety grew as she looked around at her living room. It was a simple room with a long black leather couch and matching love seats. A brick face fireplace with a mantle place littered with photographs and knickknacks faced the right side of the room. Bookcases filled with volumes of books stood tall along the white painted walls. The room did not have black cats crossing her path, or latters, nor cracks to break your momma's back. There was just a worn out, colored stained, four year old beige rug. Relieved, she crossed the room to the window and looked out. Huge raindrops splattered and chased each other down her picture window. She could have sworn she saw a dark figure hooded and hunched over running in the rain. Bess stepped closer to the window. Her nose pressed against the cool glass when something slapped against the window. Bess screamed and jumped back, her hand against her rapidly beating heart. It had long, black, knarled fingers that reached out to her from outside. Bess leaned forward to look again to find that it was only a low hanging branch. The wind must have blown it off one of the many trees surrounding her house. A loud crash then came from upstairs. Bess looked up.

"Who's there?" she called out.

Silence.

Bess opened her mouth to call out again when a soft fast scurrying sound came
from the window behind her. She turned her head and a loud ring made Bess jump
again. It was the doorbell.

"Fed Ex!"

Bess breathed a sigh of relief and walked to the door. She really had to get
hold of herself. Bess stopped as a wave of fear returned. What if it's Johnny?
She looked out the peephole. Her lips curled up in the corner in a smile. The
four-prong toaster she ordered had finally arrived. Johnny Matthew's was soon
forgotten and she opened the door.

"Bess Marshall?" FedEx man asked; his smile dazzled under her porch light.

"Yes."

"Package for you." Bess signed for the package and closed the door with her

elbow. Setting the box down on the kitchen table, she reached her hand deep
inside. All she felt were the smooth puffy white Styrofoam peanuts. Then her
forefinger touched something warm and furry. It wasn't the toaster.

"Who would send me a rug." She thought. Bess reached her hand deeper inside the box to try to get her hands underneath to lift it out.

Rrrrft!
The black cat clawed at her face leaving bloody trails across her whole face and eyes. She cried out lifting her hands to her face and stumbling backward. Small beads of blood were quickly dripping from her bloody eyes down her face.

"Gotcha!" She heard a voice yell. "I told ya I'd git ya!" She recognized the voice as Johnny Matthews.

Little Johnny's laughing cackle was the last thing Bess heard before she closed her eyes and fainted.

It's up to you if you think this story is real or not. I still don't know for sure. My friends around my neighborhood are still insistent that these people and this event did exist. Who Knows? Please write your urban legend below in the comment box: