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Stats: 2,163,734 members, 4,714,672 topics. Date: Wednesday, 23 January 2019 at 07:29 PM
|The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 10:15am On Oct 03, 2018|
I will be dropping short stories in no particular order.
These stories will have moral lessons and you are free to discuss, interact and argue after every story, starting from the mask.
Disclaimer - no part of these stories should be copied, published or pasted on any platform, they are solely works done by ROSEMARY33 and I am planning on publishing this work so help my ministry.
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 10:19am On Oct 03, 2018|
THE MASK - SHORT STORY
That was the world he knew, the world he was comfortable with, the world he stumbled upon decades ago, and he was loving it.
In this world he was King, he ruled and like a Chameleon he could assume any form suitable for a time and purpose.
A lonely dying Man, almost eaten up by rottenness which has been his companion for as long as he remembered, worms made his brain their habitation and his skin was falling apart, leaving him a pack of bones.
His eyes were shallow with no life in them, his chin dropped down his face and melted on its own, creating holes on his already monstrous face.
But in this new world, he had thousands of followers, people could stay up all night to read what he would write, he wrote motivational posts, and sometimes religion, he was the perfect Man for this world, a mirage:
"You inspire me with your post sir" one would write to him
"thank you so much sir for the lessons I have been learning from your posts" Another would write
"I wish I could see you personally, or at least see your face" a lady had written to him
Yes... That lady, she started following him few months ago and had been commenting on his posts, he had taken notice of her as well and his excitement had increased
He had many of them, whose hearts were hanging like wet cloths in his dark room, and their skin some meat in his old freezer.
He took delight in caressing the hearts every morning when he drags his rottenness up from his coffin, and had some of the skins as breakfast.
"their flesh and blood will keep you alive" he had thought
"Hi dear, I would be delighted to meet you too, where do you stay" he replied her after two weeks of receiving her message
He took his time, he didn't want to look desperate, his stock of meat was diminishing and he needed a fresh heart to add to his collection, the old stinking ones were beginning to bore him.
"OMG! you replied me! Thank you so much sir, I am the happiest ladies right now... " She wrote
He smiled, she reminded him of the cat he killed when he was ten. How thrilled the cat was to be fed by him until he lured the cat in to his grandma's backyard and crushed the annoying cat with grandma's grinding stone.
"You are smart, I read your comments on my posts, I will want to know you better, I can be your life coach" he wrote
"Can I call you on video call? "She asked
He was ready for that, was that not what all of then asked? they all has been drawn to his posts, and his look
So he picked up his mask, crafted by him. A perfect face of a heavenly Angel.
"I stay in Port Harcourt but I don't mind coming over to your state, I want to learn from you personally" She said
He was the game master, he was not New to this, like a fox in the wild, be bid his time:
"I will be traveling out of the country tomorrow for a business seminar, and will not be available, but I will keep in touch" he replied
A straying worm from his brain crawled down his face, he picked it, gave it a close scrutiny, watched it wiggle like an animal in a trap, he then threw it in his mouth and crushed.
She was always online but he would ignore her, she was always the one to start the chat and he would respond after many messages from her.
Then the time was ripe, he had set his trap, had sharpened his knife, and had made the fire:
He invited her over, booked her flight, and paid for everything
"They are getting smart Now, I have to make her relax and trust me" he thought
She arrived, he wasn't at the airport to pick her up, but he sent the address
She got to the house painted white, it was beautiful like she saw online, the bricks, the flowers and the front door, she was glad
"An opportunity to shoot my shot " she muttered
She knocked and opened the door, there was nobody in there, but she saw a note he wrote
"feel free to explore" the note read
She was already deep inside when the door closed and locked
As she walked inside, the house got darker, everything was changing before her eyes, she thought she was hallucinating, she wanted to turn back but the house was into her, drawing her deeper like the sea does to a sinking ship.
Then she got to the stage, the room that holds the tale, dry blood was the marble, and flies sang choruses to her.
She saw the world that had swallowed her too, bright lights from the flat boxes on three tables,
Another thing caught her eyes, the mask, she saw it lying on the table too, with its finely drawn face, it made no sense
Her head touched something dangling from the wall, rotten meat, like an organ of an animal. She counted two, three, five, seven of them
He was there but she was not aware, his rottenness filled the room, he watched her his sharpened knife in his bony hand, he was salivating, Spittles gushing out of his mouth like a hungry dog.
He waited for her to turn and look at him, he enjoyed the look on their faces whenever they set their eyes on him, the terror, their fear and their scream.
His horrible smell waltzed into her nose, she turned and saw him, the holes on his face, the fallen skin, the tattered cloths, the worms that crawled from his brain to his eye sockets
She screamed and he buried his knife inside her heart.
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by DemiKOL(f): 10:44am On Oct 03, 2018|
Hmm....actually i was scared for her. Should i say she was desperate to see or obsessed with the writer?
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 10:50am On Oct 03, 2018|
DemiKOL:Obsessed is the word, most people are carried away with the big, tough, intelligent... Personality other people put out in the social media.
Some of these social media celebrities have dark clouds around and questionable characters too
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by DemiKOL(f): 3:01pm On Oct 03, 2018|
Too obsessed to think straight.
What a world!
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 3:33pm On Oct 03, 2018|
TILL DEATH DO US PART - SHORT STORY
Nwugo looked down the well, she almost changed her mind until she saw him running towards her with his mouth filled and some pieces of the meat making their way out of his slightly opened oily mouth.
His large drumlike belly served as reservoir that trapped the Spittles that was gushing out of his mouth,
"Overfed baby elephant" Nwugo muttered
She watched her little brother tripped over a stone which she had used to crack canels earlier that day, he landed with his big stomach and sent what was remaining of the meat in his mouth splattering on the rough ground.
Nwugo chuckled irrespective of her foul mood, how she wished he had choked with the meat.
A meat that was meant for her, but was given to his little brother because he asked for it, just as he did ask for everything that should be hers, including there parents love and attention.
She saw her mother ran towards her little brother who was letting out a whale-like cry,
Like a half mad woman, the wrapper around her chest was almost loosing, her flat breast flapped from side to side as she ran towards him.
"Ndo oh" her mother said to the little boy while dusting off sands trapped in the ocean of spittle on his stomach.
Her mother gave her that look of anger and resentment,
"so you couldn't help your brother up, wicked child" her mother said to her, dragging the little boy who was half walking and half running to catch up with her, her buttocks shaking vigorously as she walked towards the house.
Her anger grew, her resentment for his brother built like a great Tower, almost busting out from her ears.
It wasn't like this before, when she was still the apple of their eyes
"our princess" her father had called her then
"Akwa-ugo m" her mother named her
But she was always lonely, her mother too desired another baby, they prayed, hoped, wished and their 'Chi' answered after nine years with a son
Their love for her went down gradually until it was no longer there, she watched this new baby took everything from her
"you have to let go, he is your brother " they said to her
Little brother was never wrong, she first saw how evil he was but they didn't see it
Sometimes it amused her to see her parents ran like brainless idiots just to answer to his every need, he was manipulating them and they were falling for his tricks.
She began to wish he wasn't born, that he would go away and never come back, that he would be taken by strange illness and die.
Nwugo had been nursing the plan of making her little brother disappear forever for sometime now and had also dismissed the thought
But that night, as she stood like a wet rabbit by the old window in her room, her back sore from the beating given to her by her father, Mucus running down her nose into her mouth, tears of pain and anger streaming down Her face.
Her father's words stung like the bite of a cobra, and poisoned her soul like the venom of a black mamba,
"you are evil Nwugo, and before you kill your brother, I will kill you myself!" her father had bellowed
"Nnam, I did nothing to him" she had cried out
But her father cared little, the demons had possessed him, he had beating her with his rope, her cry filled the dark sky, it was like a high pitch dirge that awoken the dead
As she stood by her window, the foul spirit of vengeance stood by her side, the spirit heard her song and had come to become one with her
Nwugo knew that vengeance was standing by her side, she didn't struggle with the decision this time, she held hands with Lady Vengeance and allow lady vengeance to posses her soul
Two days later, the village woke up to the mournful cries from her compound, Her little brother was found dead, drown in the well at their backyard.
Her mother had wanted to jump into the well and die, her father sat on the ground, shaking his head, snapping his fingers and shouting "Ewo! Chim agbawa na m Aka nwa" (my God has left me childless) once in awhile
She sat closed to her grandma, with no words to say and no tears in her eyes, wishing that the drama would end and everything would go back to normal.
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by germaphobe(m): 8:11am On Oct 04, 2018|
Baby, you're gradually taking over the lit section. i'm with you
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Nickymezor(f): 10:53am On Oct 04, 2018|
A great piece Rosie, weldone dearie
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 10:31pm On Oct 04, 2018|
The Confession - A short Story - fiction
Wilson was the best husband every Woman would want, I guess that wasn't enough.
My marriage was made in heaven, filled with love and understanding, my husband, Wilson met me eleven years ago in a church service, I was a singer, and him a first timer:
"your voice is Amazing" he had said to me
I actually had gotten used to such praises and comments from people after service, of course I know I am a great singer, and that day I sang my heart out.
But coming from a cute looking young man like him, I blushed deeply.
"thank you so much" I replied
We heated up like a stick of match. Dating him was beautiful, I was the envy of my mates and some sisters in my church department.
As soon as it started we were singing Marriage songs:
"Do you know him well enough?" my Pastor asked
"Can you cope with his age?" My mother asked
"Hope you wouldn't mind my many travels" Wilson asked
I was ready to live with him as his wife, every other thing would be handled, or so I thought.
Wilson is sixteen years older than me, but I didn't care, neither did I bother about his business trips and travelings, what he lacked in not being present always, he made up with gifts and care.
Months rolled into years, and I was becoming lonely, his travels became frequent and longer,
"My job is becoming more demanding, I have to be there always to supervise those projects" He would say to me over the phone
We thought having kids would reduce the loneliness within me, so we made babies, in six years, we had two boys but my soul was still lonely.
The void in my heart was big as an empty desert, my loneliness developed it's own personality, it followed me around and like a hurricane, it was eating every part of me.
"occupy yourself with the word of God" pastor Mrs Grace admonished
"You don't pray enough, pray and cast out that demon of sexual arousal, you are a woman, you should know how to control yourself" Mrs Chukwu said to me
So I prayed longer at night, I read the Bible six chapters in a day, like a recorder, I could recite every part of the Bible accurately, yet I was ashamed
Ashamed that sexual thoughts still crept inside my heart like a thief, ashamed that I couldn't flee like everyone wanted me to, ashamed that I would await the pleasurable union between I and the forbidden desires.
"You are just alone doing nothing that is why you feel this way, get a job" They said to me
So I got a job after months of searching, and I got a maid too for the kids.
Things went back to normal, Wilson came home and made up for his months of absence with gifts as usual, he took us out and bought gifts for the kids, but things changed again.
It was gradual but it did change, I met a Man in my office, he was the new engineer from the head quarter,
"You are so beautiful Kelly" he would always say to me
I tried to resist his flatteries, but it built a shield against my resistance, it was like a moving wall and was bent on breaking me, I felt my feathers being plucked one after another until I stood emotionally Unclad before this new guy.
I don't know why I listened to him, maybe because he told me his wife was wicked to him and didn't care about him, or because I related to his story with mine and we took pity on each other.
We exchanged numbers and messages, Work started making more sense to me because he was there, we laughed together and had lunch together.
Working hours were no longer enough for us, so we chatted through the night when Wilson was out of town.
With time I no longer Miss my husband and even wished he stayed longer than expected.
Yes I felt the sting of guilt, but I made up for that with the mind blowing sex I do give to Wilson when ever he came back.
"we are just friends" I would say to myself
"his wife isn't treating him right, I am only advising him" I thought
Until he kissed me:
"I am so sorry, it was a mistake " He had apologised,
But we kissed over and over again:
"I wish I had married you instead of my wife" he said to me
I was confused, I knew it was wrong but I wanted it, I had no reason but I wanted him, my feelings were like a mad woman in the market place, unashamed and unclad
As long as I could still sexually satisfied Wilson and made him believe that he had a loyal wife in me, I was good.
"Come to my place sometimes, visit me, that is what friends do" the new guy said to me one day
"I can't, I am married, what will people say?" I replied to him
But like a headless chicken, like an Egyptian goddess on a quest for self sacrifice, I found my self at his door step.
My heart was beating so loud like 'Ikoro ' the ancient Drum. My eyes were roaming from one side to the other like a child who wants to dip her hand in the newly cooked 'Onugbu soup'
There was no much words to say, even without voicing it out both of us knew what we wanted to do, I was ashamed but couldn't stop myself.
I was in his bedroom, on his bed, like a female dog in heat, I couldn't recognize the woman I became, nor the stranger that possessed me,
He explored, I explored, our clothes walked out of our bodies, he licked eat and nibbled, I was enjoying the sinful pleasure.
But before I could travel the road filled with pleasurable fruits and choiced wines, we had other companies:
My kids came calling me,
"Remember!!! " their voices echoed
My conscience which was dead before resurrected and came knocking:
"Remember!!! " It echoed
My Wilson came calling :
"Remember!!!" He said
The accusing faces of my church members, the mocking voices of the backup singers, the microphone that would not want me hold it again, all followed us down the road, making the journey un enjoyable any more.
I found tears running down my cheeks, like a cold ash, I became cold. I pushed him away, I wore my cloths in a hurry,
I ran like a snake under the rain, my tears blinded my eyes as I ran. I felt peers of eyes watching me as I ran.
Their eyes bore holes on my back, I could read their disgust even though it wasn't there.
Few days later I came to work, The new guy wasn't there
"He has gone back to the Abuja" I heard
He has gone to his wife that was wicked to him, a wife that cared less about him, a wife that he had wished he never married.
That night I cried when Wilson came home, his bags hung on his shoulders and his boot heavy, but he hugged me like I was his world.
He had wanted to know why I was crying bitterly while clinging to him
"I missed you " I said to him amidst tears
Somethings are better left unsaid
I am writing this story to you my diary on this day being our 11th Anniversary, you are the only one that will know about this, I hope I will hide you enough where they can only find you when I am gone.
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by DemiKOL(f): 11:56pm On Oct 04, 2018|
Hmm.... Gave up at the die minute. Not easy but would have still hanged on. She made the decision but was not strong enough to withstand the storm. Was never prepared.
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Fazemood(m): 2:35pm On Oct 06, 2018|
Oh my, scary, pitiful and educative stories. Nice work Rose
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Ann2012(f): 3:07pm On Oct 12, 2018|
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 3:02pm On Jan 12|
Really? I didn't know this will earn any comment at all, I was discouraged that was why I stopped. Please forgive me. I will start updating now
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 3:21pm On Jan 12|
VACUUM - A SHORT STORY
She was grieving, so was he. It has been 6 years since her husband his father embarked on a journey to the lonely road leaving her all alone to raise their son.
Many times he tried to reach out to his grieving mother, times he had wanted to share in her sorrow, to be the Man and console her and to tell her that he was also grieving
But she shut him out without knowing, her sorrow consumed her, her hatred for the death that took her beloved husband eat her up like swarm of locusts, draining love and care for life from her and of course, emotions for her son was gone too.
He also learned how to withdraw from her, no matter how much he craved to be wrapped in her arms, their lives blew away with the passing away of his father, buried together with the dead
"you killed him!" his mother had screamed at him at the hospital
"You shouldn't have drove the Car... You killed your father! " she had sobbed
He had hidden his face in shame, guilt and agony
It was supposed to be the happiest day of there lives, his birthday, and his father had gifted him a Car
He couldn't wait to drive it
"allow it to cool down first Now... " his mother had warned
"Give the boy a break woman..." his father had said amidst chuckle
And so they left with the new Car, his father and him, they had wanted to paint Port Harcourt Red together
"We will buy sharwama for Mummy" he had said out of excitement
"your mother is too old for Sharwama, we will get her 'Okpa'" they had laughed
Then it happened,
He has come to agree with his mother that he killed his father
Both of them separated by grief, accusation and guilt, the gap between them widened
The street became his home while booze and grasses were his twin friends.
She didn't know how far her son has drift away from home until she met him washing off a bloody knife in the kitchen sink with his boot designed with trickles of dry blood
"Munachimso! Is that not blood?" she asked
"What do you care?" he answered coldly
How did she allow this to happen?
She lost her husband, was she going to lose her son too?
"where have you been sleeping? " She asked
She wanted to take up her role as a mother, she wanted to keep her wayward son in a latch
"I no longer have a part with you mother, I only come here to seek refuge" he said
She was bitter, enraged, she slapped his face
"you Junky, you are a disgrace to the soul of your father" she bellowed
He stared hard on her face, with clinching teeth and cold eyes
She was scared he was going to hit back, and was relived when he picked his knife and walked out
She allowed the tears to flow and her voice to rise
Two days later, death came knocking again, like a fine woman it walked gracefully into her family the second time, her son was shot by a rival cult...
She ran like a woman in labor,
"Gidim gidim gidim" she galloped like a race horse
It was a battle between her and time
Lady death must not take this one like she took her husband.
She held him in her arms and cried, her voice tore the Sky, she rebuked death, she took the case to heaven
"he is not a Junky!" she told the universe
"He is my Son, my life My breath! " she confessed to the creator
"Spare his life and take mine! " she pleaded with Chiokike
Chiokike heard, her son was restored in the hospital,
Chiokike also spared her to have a fresh start with her son
Munachimso Now has a welding and fabricating workshop along Diobu
They still miss their father, but they have each other now
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by damselposh(f): 8:45pm On Jan 12|
Nice one Rosy
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by germaphobe(m): 9:58pm On Jan 12|
now that i was pulishing my cain to flog u out of MIA, thanks for the update though.
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 5:15am On Jan 13|
thank God I cam e out before you finished publishing the cane
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Rosemary33: 4:11pm On Jan 13|
INSIDE - A SHORT STORY
"she is so cute..."
"The Lord has finally made you smile..."
Their happy chattering vanished with the wind, she was forced to fake smiles, to nod in agreement, and pretend that she was dancing with excitement
But each time she looked towards the baby, the air around her would become humid, her breath would stop and she would look away with fear
She knew something wasn't right with that child, she knew this from the day she gave birth to her, for instead of crying, the baby gave a sinister chuckle
They said babies do not see properly at birth, but she knew this particular baby looked at her and saw through her soul
"let us toast to a beautiful baby girl... " her husband said
A beautiful daughter with amazing smile, but that was on the surface
For whenever she was alone with her, what she saw did give her chill,
Vengeance in the baby's eyes, darkness that hovered around her and the mocking smile at the corner of her lips.
It was like her past has come back to life
"to unending blessings and joy..." her husband continued
"Unending torture and horror" was what she heard.
She didn't mean to do what she did, but she was desperate, almost 38 and no steady relationship
Those Men, they left her because she was saddled with a child, a mistake she felt wasn't her fault
And the child? Always eager to call her 'Mummy' even before her dates.
She tried, she did try to hide her, to make the girl stop calling her 'mummy', to make the Men understand too
"I can not father another man's child" one of the Men told her
"one day her father will come for her " another said
"leave her with your mother" the third one said
But her mother was dead and her grandmother was already kissing the grave.
So the child tagged alone, wrapped in her wrapper like rumpled money tied inside an old woman's wrapper
So went the 4th Man, the 5th till she lost count
When Ayodele came into her life, she knew she mustn't loose him too, that was when she started hearing voices:
"abandon her in the market"
"Take her to the orphanage home "
"poison her and get her out of your life"
The last voice was strong and persistent, it was like a companion even in her sleep, a repeated echo in her head, it enveloped her heart,
Desires overtook sympathy
Lust rode over motherly compassion, like a cart riding on a carpet
Then came the night she stabbed the child from behind as she was washing the dishes
Though she planned it all, she was nervous, she fiddled with the knife, it was as if the knife was revolting, but she wanted a good life, a life she felt she was entitled to, like every other lady
She was deaf to her scream, as the screaming rage in the Her head became louder than her child's cry, she pulled the knife from the child's back, red hues splashing all over her face like a hand covering her face
The child was wiggling on the floor when she drove the knife deeper into her chest,
She remembered the look on her face, how she had muttered "Mummy" faintly before she went numb.
She had sat with the dead child in the kitchen for a while and cried.
She buried her in the dead of the night, with the hooting of the Owl and with the knife still buried deep inside her chest.
As she lay the child in the shallow grave, she could swear she saw two drops of tears rolled down the child's cheek and a smile on her lips.
She got her dream Man one year later, the sacrifice was worth it
Though the pang of guilt hunted her for the years she was childless, what she saw at the birth of this new baby, was horror.
"I think the baby wants to suckle" her mother inlaw said
She was unsure about taking the baby from her mother in-law, her hands shook as she stretched out to carry the baby,
"are you Okay? " her mother in-law asked
"Yes... Yes " I am fine she swallowed hard and said
She lay the baby on the bed, and rushed to the bath room to splash water on her face
She felt a hand at the back of her head, forcing her face down the bathroom sink filled with water,
The more she struggled to scream, the more water found its way down her throat, choking her, sending her back to the past, to the forest where she buried her child,
She heard the same hooting of the Owl, saw the shallow grave and saw her standing with the knife still buried deep inside her chest, dark smokes had replaced the socket where her eyes used to be, and the earth had eaten part of her face
"Mama... do you miss me? " the child from the past asked with a voice of thousand dead souls
She wanted to scream, to run, to call for help, but the child standing before her wielded so much powers and controlled her bones,
She watched it horror as death approached her
"it is cold down here Mama" the dead child said as she floated towards her
"Come with me " The child echoed in her ears
Hundreds of rotten hands sprang up from the open grave to her, pulling her deep inside
"Come with us" they echoed
She opened her eyes to see faces peering at her, her vision was blur, then she heard her husband's voice
"I came in to used the toilet, when I saw you almost drowned in a sink filled with water! What happened, why would you want to kill yourself? "
She had no answers for him, she knew this would be one of the many tortures the birth of this baby would bring to her
How long it would last, she didn't know
She met the baby sleeping peacefully on the bed
Was she hallucinating? Was her mind playing tricks on her?
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by germaphobe(m): 6:54pm On Jan 13|
|Re: The Mask And Other Short Story by Fazemood(m): 12:22am On Jan 19|
This is just the right kind of purnishment she deserves
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