Stories

“The Most Hated boy in the World”

I thought I should share a draft of the first chapter of a novel I’m currently working on, about a young boy who faces abuse from the people he trusts the most- his family. It is based on true events. The title is as above mentioned.

Please feel free to leave comments and suggestions.

Chapter one – “To the bone”

As he searches for warmth in the depths of his pockets with his diminutive hands, a bitterly cold breeze violently slaps him across the face. The weather has been particularly unforgiving this week, and today is no exception. It’s a damp foggy Thursday morning and The silhouettes of the people walking in front and beside him slowly diminish and disappear into the mist. Young and old bodies strut by trying to catch up to the morning rush

Another one of the wind’s companions gives it a go, blow by blow the winds attack as to taunt him, knowing he doesn’t stand a chance against them. One more surge of cold air pierces straight into his eyes, forcing them shut.
A tear begins to fall down his frozen cheek, followed by another and another, tears start to flow like a flooded river during raining season.
He gives out a heavy sigh that seems to fall out of his mouth and warms up the cold air surrounding his face.

He wipes the tears on his face as quickly as he can and throws his hands back into his thin grey trouser pockets. He clenches his fists to trap the little warmth in his hands preventing it from escaping. It doesn’t help that his school uniform is made from horribly rangy fabric. The hefty sack on his back is not making the journey to school any easier either.

Anyway, it will all be worth it once he gets there. He enjoys school and loves to learn. The classroom is his sanctuary. It helps him forget about all his troubles…

Poetry

“Who do you think you are?”

What makes you think you deserve better?

Your tears mean nothing, your pain is nonexistent.
You’re not soft enough, not feminine enough, delicate enough, or even desirable enough.

Who do you think you are?

Why do you think you deserve more?
What you have is sufficient for a girl like you.

Love? for someone like you?

Do you people even know what love is?
All you’re good for is labor. Hard labor, no playing around, no having fun, be serious and you will be taken seriously.

Why are you relaxing?!

you people are strong, with thick skin, born for heavy loads. It’s in your genes. Now, get back to work!

Poetry

“What I’m hoping for”

I never knew loneliness until I met you.
I never knew pain until I felt you.
I never knew fear until you looked into my eyes.
I never knew sorrow until you rejected me and never held me when I cried.

I am not asking for too much.
Please don’t judge, or hold a grudge.
I just need a little attention.
That’s why now and then I give you a little nudge,
For you to look at me, just look at me.

Is it that hard for you to express your feelings for me?
If I was different would you treat me differently?
What do I need to change please do tell?
I will do anything, I’ll try to break out of my shell.

I’m tired of fighting for a portion of your heart.
Either you give me your all, or you’ll watch me depart!

What if I meet another
Who will treat me like no other?
With one look, he will know exactly what’s in my heart.
And he will accept and love my every part.

But that’s just what I’m hoping for.

Stories

“Us Against the World”


As she stared intently at the mirror, Ski could hardly recognize her reflection. “Who is this?” She asks. She tries to find familiarities on her face but even her eyes seem to have changed. She is not the person she used to be.

Ski was the kind of girl that could make friends with anyone, she could pull you in with her bright smile and make you feel comfortable enough to share your deepest secrets without fear of judgment. She was everything you could ever want and need in a friend, in a lover.

That is exactly what a man like Midnight was looking for. A sort of naivety and innocence mixed with some charisma and a stunning body. The woman of his dreams. He promised to love her and his love was more than what she expected, way more.

Midnight’s love reminded Ski of a warm fire on a cold winter’s night. Sometimes it was so intense that she had to be careful not to get burnt. It shined so brightly almost blinding her. It tasted so sweet it would sometimes make her sick to her stomach. “No one will ever love you the way I do” He would say, and she believed him.

His words of affection were like a beautiful bouquet of bright red roses with unimposing thorns that would cut deeper and deeper into her skin each time. “Well, it’s the thought that counts.” She says reassuringly to herself.

His tight embrace of devotion would leave her breathless, and she loved it because she loved him. “Oh my, what a love.” She whispers gratified.

Midnight enjoyed feeling Ski’s heartbeat pulsating on her neck. The tighter the grip, the better. He loved holding her down, detaining her to the floor while screaming out his frustrations, and declaring his undying love for her. His eyes would go red, his body would quiver, and sweat would run down his cheeks like tears. She thinks to herself “He is just passionate about me, that’s all.”

She fears disappointing him in any way and she dreads the day he will be rid of her.
“Get it right, Ski!” She reprimands herself as she thinks about all the times she had let him down. She reckons that just like every other couple, they have their ups and downs. Some say she should leave, that she deserves better, but how can she find a better love once she’s had the best?
They don’t know him. They don’t know his heart.

“He loves me, he just–” Her line of thought gets interrupted by a calm yet authoritative voice coming from outside the bedroom.

“Ski, baby are you ready to go?”

“Uhm, yes I’m ready.”

Ski takes one last look in the mirror to make sure that she looks perfect for him. Her make-up is so well done, that it seems to cover up all her fears and doubts. She gets up to meet Midnight at the door.

“You look so beautiful tonight.” Midnight declares. A smile slowly appears on Ski’s face. It’s moments like these that help her endure this kind of love.

Midnight opens the door as they step out into the beautiful moonlit night. He proudly puts his hand on her waist. His warm touch gives her a comforting feeling of contentment.

Confident and hopeful, Ski whispers assuringly to herself “it’s us against the world, baby.”

Poetry

“I remember the day I caught sadness”

I remember the day I cought sadness.

It was the day I realised that I hated my father. Well, he hated me first, so I hated him back.

This illness began as a tiny seed, but then it grew quickly and weeded it’s way all around the blooming flower garden of my juvenile heart. It suffocated me. It choked all the joy out of me.

My father had no idea how ill I was, or maybe he knew but just didn’t care.
To my dismay I found out that he was also suffering from this disease, and it was hereditary. That meant I had no choice but to suffer.

He was a man of few words, and with those words he would always convey discipline, disgust and disappointment. Bursts of anger and endless tantrums were typical whenever I made a mistake. I hated it, I hated him. I still do.

I still remember the day I caught sadness.

The sound of my Father’s foot steps haunted my dreams. His disaproval hung over me like a dark cloud carrying a heavy storm. I was so afraid to dissapoint him, and this is why I never learnt to love him.

I was condemned with this illness so early in life and that proved to be too much of a burden for me to carry. I wanted to get well so desperately, so I took refuge in pills and potions. They only dulled the pain with temporary enjoyment. It felt like a peaceful dream that got interrupted by the horrific nightmare of real life.

I recieved neither consolation nor comfort. No “get well soon” cards, or warm soup to help me recover. Not even a single kiss of compassion from my mother. I was just left alone, to perish on my death bed.

So I decided to run, to leave my father and all my pain behind. I wanted be free, healthy and happy. But the further I ran the heavier my feet got. So heavy that they would drag me back. Back to that dark place. A place that I’m still trying to escape.

I will always remember the day I caught sadness, and it will be apart of me forever.
No relief, no remedy. Till death do us part.

Poetry

“Disclosure”

Another sleepless night. Wide awake. Days, nights, they all feel the same.
Thinking about the meaning of my name.

“Awaiting something good”
That is the name my mother chose for me.
Something “Good?”
From me?
When will that ever come to be?

Too much pressure on my shoulders.
The expectations are running me over.
Im trapped in this enclosure,
And no passerby stops for even a second to look over,
To help me.
Help me.

My mind…my thoughts
Like dismembered body parts
Of a victim slain by a ruthless killer,
Going around, and around like a windmiller.

How can I be of service if I cannot fulfil my purpose?
Worthless, Worthless!
Why do I even exist?
Someone please show me the exit.

All I hear is her voice
Calling me, inviting me in:
“Cut me down,
Put me away,
End it all.
Let me go into the abyss
Of everlasting peace”