It’s as clear as a photograph on a sunny day that you hate me. You say things to shame and devalue me but all I hear with these great, big ears is what you are so desperate to conceal.
Your lame attempts to hide your real motives under a veil of disgust may throw your friends off but I can smell the fear, as potent and rancid as sour milk. It seeps out from every forced chuckle and fake grin.
These big eyes see that behind the macho facade there is a little boy trying his best to mimic a man. So, when I saunter in unapologetically, flaunting my large frame as a feminine triumph, your tiny ego can’t handle it. A large, powerful woman has always been a threat to the manhood of the miniscule.
He timidly offered her his heart. She swallowed it whole.
Some people seem so lovely that we may forget to keep our guard up around them. Many people aren’t actively seeking to exploit us in that situation, thank goodness. The problem is that some of them are. They look at us and see an object to use, abuse, and throw away at their discretion. Those who have never been sucked into their ‘game’ are lucky. I’ve seen people’s lives ruined over trusting those types of conniving vultures.
Have you ever been victimized by such a heartless person? Do you have a story to tell about it? Can you say it in ten words or less? If so, share with me in the comment section!
This 100 word story is a continuation of The Escape – Friday Fictioneers. If you want a better idea of what’s going on in this story, I suggest you read that first.
Eric was startled from his slumber thanks to someone pounding on the door to his suite. With a yawn he threw on the silk robe he had taken from a naive tourist. He didn’t normally steal from his victims but it was of his refined taste and he’d hate to see it go to waste.
He opened the door but no one was there, just a letter at his feet. He caught the faint trace of a familiar scent as he bent down to pick up the envelope. It couldn’t be. Eric swallowed hard when he saw the handwriting. Elle?!
You granted your callous mistress the right to infiltrate our lives. My childhood memories are defiled by her meddlesome intrusion. You became her marionette, her absurd little dancing fool. I watched you; a once proud, mountain of a man, reduced to a lowly pebble.
You gave all you possessed in life to appease her constant hunger. We were merely afforded the scraps she left of your love, attention, and time. I can remember the contempt my mother endured every day for what you deemed an unforgivable sin: She chose to keep fighting for you.
You didn’t just defeat her once, that would have been too merciful. You subdued her inner essence, strangling it into submission. I witnessed my mother dwindle into a thin, crumbling husk while you roamed in blissful freedom, never facing the aftermath.
While being a conjoined twin was always difficult, nothing prepared her for this. Born in a small village in Africa, her mother was too destitute to pay a hospital to separate them. It had taken ages for a charity to offer their services to the unfortunate teens.
For weeks they dared to dream of living a normal life. Yet, two days before the surgery, Bahati had awoken to a cold and lifeless sister. She was forced to endure being attached to a corpse. There would be no ‘normal’ for her after this. For the first time, she wept alone.