Revenge: How Far Would You Go?

RevengeI was painfully reminded of my own story of betrayal coming across the American TV show 'Revenge' which chronicles the wronged life of Emily Thorne and the victims she 'takes down' (I told you, it's an American show) one by one. Victims who had any part to play in framing Emily's father for a crime he did not commit years before, and destroying her family when she was just a little girl. A little girl who ADORED her father.

At the beginning of the first Season (Season 2 airs in the US this week, I believe) and through a series of then and now flashbacks, we catch up with Emily leaving prison and relocating to the upper class society town where her victims live. Where she once lived with her father.

Now an adult of course, the town do not recognise her or know who she is - aside from being a beautiful, Preppy girl who has rocked up to rent a lavish beach house - but she knows everything about them.

Everything.

To mix metaphors, it's a good little page-turner of a show.

A show that got me thinking about betrayal, revenge and just how far we would go to exact it.

Being a good, Roman Catholic girl (where two of those things may not be true), I know full well that revenge is a sin. Well, it may not be one of the deadlies, but I know it is frowned upon since 'Revenge is mine,' saith the Lord and all that. And the other clever bod, Confucious (504 b.c.), reminds us:

"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves,"

which I have always taken to mean that when you destroy another you kill your own soul in the process.

Which is all well and good in the rational - where you haven't been left winded and blinded by betrayal. Where the senses cannot quite comprehend that anyone could (would) perpetrate such a heinous act on friendship, love or loyalty.

Where 'taking someone down' becomes your raison d'être for breathing.

Bear in mind, I am talking about the biggies.

Not the foolishness of youth, or unthinking stupidity. But calculated, know-what-the-hell-they-were-destroying-and-did-it-anyway betrayal. Stabbing your past in the chest and twisting that serrated-edged knife, then drop-kicking your future in the guts before they leave.

Because that's the thing about certain betrayals; they rob you of everything you knew or thought you knew. It takes away the past - since you can no longer unravel what was true - and, of course, the future, since there is no going back (forward) with some forms of betrayal.

That kind of betrayal has happened to me six times in my 50 years on this earth.

The most recent of which was a business betrayal in the first year of Bronnie's death.

 

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