The thoughts of cutting myself never crossed my mind once, until now.

I have cut myself before, accidentally while slicing an onion, cutting up cardboard for my architectural models, but this was the first time I thought of doing it intentionally.

Why on earth would such even cross my mind? You may be wondering… well, the simple and short answer is: I needed to feel pain.

Simply pinching myself wasn’t doing it but making a fine line on my skin seemed to be the only thing popping up in my head.

For the third time this year, my heart is bleeding but this time, I don’t feel the pain of it bleeding.

They say third time’s a charm right? Well, looking down at the black hole that is where my heart is meant to be, it seems like I’ve grown immune to the pain after the third time!

Wait…getting immune to pain? That can’t be right…

I shouldn’t have patched my heart after the second time and taken risks after seeing some seemingly green lights. I should never have taken anymore steps forward thinking I could move on. Yet I knew the risk of that one step and still took it, because according to nearly everyone, no risk, no reward, right?

I should have known better.

Turned out to be all risks and no reward, green lights were actually red (wolves in sheep clothing) and I am right back where I began… if not further back as I am now on a search for a way to feel the pain of my heart being ripped out.

Several steps backward after just one step of hope.

Fictional piece? Not so much, I think I just needed to get this off my chest to help me but this isn’t helping.

Been so long I wrote though, I guess this should count? Anyways, Ciao.

Yours truly,

CeeJhay

I was narrowly saved…

I stared at the screen in horror as I re-read the message Ola had sent to me. I cleaned my eyes in hopes that I was mistaken, but no, I wasn’t. The message of him apologizing for asking me out as he had fallen in love with Adesuwa, the lead chorister in our church’s choir.

Shock washed over me, and I shut off my phone, gazing out at the night sky from my window before collapsing onto my bed. As I stared at the bulb in my room, my mind drifted to the conversations Ola and I had shared the previous week, conversations that hinted at something more serious between us.

This December had held promise — I thought I might move from being a single singlet to a taken woman, but now... I had only decided to spend a little time to brew over it despite the urge to shout yes the very moment he asked, and this was where it got me.

I sniffled as I felt the tears filling my eyes. However, right before the tears fell down my cheeks, my bedroom door flew open. Hurriedly, I cleaned my eyes to avoid my mother’s questions, and perhaps, beatings, for crying over a man.

“Osato, wear your clothes and let’s go to church; we’re already late for the all-night service that Rev. Fr. Felix would be presiding over.” My mother ordered and turned to leave the room.

“Mummy, tomorrow is Christmas. Can’t we just stay at home and enjoy this Christmas Eve? Omo, me, I don’t want to attend any all night o, I can’t stay awake.” I complained.

It was loud enough for her to hear and turn to stare at me with a raised eyebrow, which seemed to yell, 'Is this playing?’. She let out a loud laugh and clapped her hands several times before looking at me with a dead serious expression.

“That evil spirit that is speaking inside of you must be cast out today! Will you go and dress up before I use my purse to stone your head?” My mother yelled, rage brewing in her eyes.

Knowing her threats were real, I didn’t hesitate to run into my closet and quickly put on a hoodie and a skirt; the length was just below my knee cap.

“Don’t let me see you wear those satanic things you call skirts o. You better wear that skirt I bought for you; wear what will please the Lord.” I heard my mother shout from outside my room as I stepped out of my closet.

“What kind of thing is this?” I muttered to myself as I angrily changed the skirt to the one she had instructed, one that went past my knee and stopped at my ankle.

I passed the mirror placed in a strategic position in my room and caught an image of myself. I paused and stared in sheer horror at myself, whose look was in between that of a homeless human and the virgin Mary herself.

“It’s not like I have a boyfriend at church anyway.” I shrugged and tied my hair with a scarf before rushing out of the room.

I joined my mother and my little sister sister, Esohe who was in her teens, in the living room, and I noticed the pleased look on my mother’s face as she saw me. My mother drove us to church immediately, and the second we got there, the program had just begun.

We settled into a seat near the front of the church but close to the door, and as I hurriedly sat down, I made myself comfortable, ready to be taken by sleep. I had a feeling that my mother would slap me awake soonest, but I was going to take every second of rest I could get.

Not long after I had shut my eyes, I heard the rest of the congregation muttering prayers and words from different areas of the church as I closed my eyes. However, the entire church suddenly fell quiet — so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

I slowly opened my eyelids and saw everyone, including my mother, who stood near me, staring at the front of the church. I stood up, curious at what had disrupted them, when my eyes landed on a feminine figure on the statue of Jesus Christ on the cross at the altar.

My jaw fell open as I noticed her hand was wrapped around the neck of Jesus’ status while her feet were on the Jesus’ nailed feet. Noticing the black skirt and white shirt she put on, I immediately realized that she was from the choir, but that wasn’t as shocking as when she turned her face and began to laugh hysterically.

“Isn’t that Adesuwa?” I asked, surprised. “How did she get up there? The cross is far from the floor…”

My eyes began to search for how she got there, as there was only a wall behind the cross, and the cross was way higher than the altar.

“She just scaled the wall and jumped on the cross. How did she even… Jesus o.” Esohe exclaimed.

“This girl has gone mad like this o. I heard she recently became Ola’s girlfriend.” I heard a feminine voice whisper from the back.

“Ola, that Yahoo guy? Ah, they have used Adesuwa o, they’ve collected her destiny right before Christmas like this.” Another feminine voice whisper-yelled.

I immediately turned to the back and glanced at the two girls who kept whispering to themselves, my eyes wide in disbelief, before looking back at Adesuwa. She kept on laughing as she now began to grind her waist on the statue.

“There’s a demon among us; let’s cast and bind!” Rev. Fr. Felix yelled through the microphone as he got closer to the cross and pointed at Adesuwa, speaking in tongues.

The quietness in the church was finally broken as everyone began to cast and bind the so-called demon in Adesuwa, whose laughter didn’t stop while I stood, shaking my head in disbelief.

—

It was near morning when we got home, and after making sure that our mother had gone to bed, we tiptoed into the kitchen and helped ourselves to two fried chickens from the cooler my mother thought she had hidden safely.

We rushed to my room and sat on the bed before we began to chew happily on the chickens.

“Sister Osato, I thought you said you and Ola were going to date?” Esohe asked as we sat in silence.

“God forbid! So that’s how I would have agreed to date that yahoo guy, Ola, only to end up on the cross in church like Adesuwa.” I hissed.

“Mummy would have jumped on that altar and killed you.” Esohe giggled lightly while I glared at her.
“But wait o, so no Christmas chicken for her like this? Wahala for who go date for December abi Christmas watch night o.” Esohe sighed as she stopped chewing on the chicken bone in her hand and stared at me.

“Omo, no chicken for her o.” I let out a sigh as my gaze met hers.

We both shook our heads simultaneously and burst out into laughter.

Date in December and risk not eating Christmas chicken; the decision is all yours to make people!

Did you enjoy the little story? If you did, long-press that clap button and give this post 50 claps!

Don’t forget to click here to follow me and turn on the notifications so you don’t miss any of my stories.

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Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

I grinned as I placed the wooden stool on the verandah and settled into it, my eyes fixed on the other teenagers in our vast, fenced compound. My closest friend and age-mate, Ngozika, waved at me when our gazes locked.

“Come and join us to play suwe, Chidera.” She offered.

I shook my head, declining the offer. If my mother caught me playing in the morning, she’d have my head.

“Chidera!” My mother’s voice boomed from inside the house.

Immediately, I sprinted back into the house and straight to the kitchen. There, my mother sat on a stool, stirring the pot of starch on the stove in front of her.

“Yes mama?” I answered, clasping my hands behind my back.

She looked up and glared at me. “Instead of you to come help me in the kitchen, you’re outside playing with your friends, bah?”

“Me? No o.” I quickly dismissed her claims. “I was just sitting in the veran — ”

“Shut up! You think I don’t know you?” She snapped, cutting me off.

I held my tongue, seeing her fair face reddening with anger. She inhaled deeply, calming herself, before returning her focus to the pot of starch.

“Follow your brother, Chime, to the market and get me some ugwu leaves for the egusi soup,” she ordered without looking at me.

“Chime? Can’t I go by myself?” I groaned.

My mother’s eyes flashed with fury. “Will you vanish from here before I throw this pot at your head?”

I fled the kitchen the moment those words left her mouth. Bumping into my older brother, Chime, in the hallway, a frown found itself on my face.

“Let’s go already; I have things to do,” he said, pinching my arm.

“You’re so annoying!” I yelled, glaring at his back as we headed to the market.

We arrived at the bustling market, and I waited outside a stall while Chime negotiated for the ugwu leaves. As soon as he finished, I turned to leave without him.

“Chidera, wait! Don’t you know it’s bad to leave the person you came with at the market?” Chime admonished.

Rolling my eyes, I stopped and turned to face him, my hands placed gingerly on my hips. “Says who?”

“Says everyone,” he shrugged, catching up with me. “Just like the saying about looking between your legs at the market.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What saying?”

“It’s said that if you bend down and look between your legs at the market, you’ll see spirits,” Chime claimed, a serious expression on his face.

I rolled my eyes again. “That is just a myth.”

“No, it is not,” Chime argued.

“Fine, I’ll prove it to you,” I retorted. Before he could respond, I bent down and glanced between my legs.

I froze, my eyes meeting a man walking with his hands upside down. Beside him, a headless feminine figure moved gracefully. When the headless figure met my gaze, I stood upright and looked back, but the spirits were gone. Fear coursed through me as I turned my gaze forward.

“No need to look so scared; I made it all up,” Chime chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips, but I couldn’t deny what I had seen.

I began to walk away from the market, leaving Chime behind as I thought about what I had seen. Chime was right this time; his words were real.

“Chidera, wait up,” Chime called out.

I glanced back at him, and beside him stood the headless figure I had seen, staring in my direction. Swiftly, I turned and broke into a run, leaving Chime behind.

I burst into our compound, ran to our apartment, and pushed open the door with a bang before running straight to my bedroom. In my bedroom, I paced anxiously, the market scene replaying in my mind.

“It’s not real; it couldn’t have been real,” I whispered to myself as I halted my pacing and gripped my head.

“What’s not real?” A voice asked.

A cold shiver ran down my spine as the room temperature plummeted to 0 degrees. I turned ever so slowly, and by the closed bedroom door stood the headless figure. My eyes widened, fixated on the empty space where her head should be. but wasn’t.

My bedroom door opened up, and my mother rushed in, my brother in tow.

“Chidera, what is it? What has come over you?” She yelled.

I pointed at the figure, and tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at my mother. “She followed me home.”

My mother looked at the space I had pointed at and turned back to me with a frown evident on her face. “Who followed you home?”

I pointed at the space once again, wondering why she was asking an obvious question. “Her.”

“Chidera, stop this rough play before I slap the living daylights out of you and reset that brain of yours.” My mother threatened. “There is no one else here.”

No one else?

I stared at the headless figure, then back at my mother. “You really don’t see…”

Just then, the figure inched closer, and I screamed. But my scream was silent, the world moving in slow motion as I fell backward, my eyelids growing heavy.

As my eyes closed, I heard a whisper right before the darkness swallowed me. “Your eyes are finally open.”

You’d think some myths and stories are just that until you try them for yourself and suffer the consequences. What other myths have you heard about that you think might be real? Tell us in the comment section.

If you did enjoy this story, do tap that clap button until you give this post 50 claps.

Don’t forget to click here to follow me and turn on the notifications so you don’t miss any of my stories.

Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

As I descended the creaky stairs, a gentle knock echoed through the quiet house.

“Camila, go see who it is.” My mother ordered as she passed by me and went upstairs.

Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the door. Through the peephole, I spotted a small child waiting outside. Opening the door, I was met by an unfamiliar kid holding a basket of candies.

“Trick or treat?” he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

I lifted a brow at him as I studied him a little more.

“Camila, who is it?” My mother’s voice, carried from inside, demanded

“Just some kid!” I yelled back and returned my attention to the child in front of me. “Neither.”

I proceeded to close the door.

“You have to choose one — trick or treat?” The boy’s voice made me halt my movement.

I gave him a second look. His chilling, emotionless gaze sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help the little knot of fear that tied itself in my belly.

“Again, I don’t do tricks or treats.” I firmly stated before shutting the door.

Shaking my head, I retreated to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of water, downing it in one gulp. My mind went back to the kid from earlier, and I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he left behind.

Suddenly, I heard thuds, and quickly, I dropped my cup and rushed out of the kitchen. There, in the dimly lit hallway, my mother was dressed and ready with a suitcase in hand.

“Where are you off to?” I inquired, glancing at the wall clock showing 9:40 PM.

“The airport. I have a sudden business meeting tomorrow morning, so I have to catch the late-night flight.” My mother responded, heading for the door.

“Right, or you’re going to meet the man who wants to enter this family as my stepdad when dad’s body is still barely cold in the ground?” I questioned her, lifting an eyebrow at her accusingly.

“Have fun with your studies, love.” My mother yelled, ignoring my question as she rushed out the door and slammed it behind her.

I sighed as I walked to the door and locked it securely with the key. Returning to my room, I plugged in my earphones, grabbed my phone, and began to scroll through Pinterest.

Just as the song in my ears ended, I heard a thud. I took off my earphones and waited for a few minutes, thinking I had just misheard, but then a knock echoed from downstairs.

I got out of bed and descended down the stairs. The knock resounded again on the front door, and I sighed as I got down from the last step on the stairs.

“Who’s there?” I asked loud enough for the person on the other side of the door to hear me as I walked towards it.

However, no response came. I peeked through the peephole but saw no one there. Shaking my head, I shrugged and turned back to the stairs when a pounding came from the back door. Startled, I cautiously made my way toward the source of the noise.

The pounding grew more intense, causing my heart to race. The back door flew open, revealing the same child from earlier. This time, a sinister grin played on his lips, contrasting with his ice-cold eyes.

My eyes widened, and I stumbled backward slowly till my hand found the stair railing.

“Trick or treat? Choose one!” He yelled, his voice inhumane, as he suddenly sprinted towards me.

A scream tore out of my throat and escaped my lips as I fled up the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest.

Happy Halloween, my lovely readers. Enjoyed the story? Go tap that clap button till you give this story 50 whooping claps.

Want Part 2? Great! Simply wait until October 31st, 2024.

Moving on, an interesting story will be dropping tomorrow. Don’t want to miss it? Simply click here to follow me and turn on the notifications. Also, don’t forget to give this story 50 claps.

Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

Goodbye world, till we meet to part no more.

I squinted my eyes and clutched the rope tightly, which I had fastened securely to the ceiling fan. Suddenly, my eyelids shot open, and my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room.

My legs wavered, almost causing me to topple from the wooden stool I’d placed in the center of the room. Desperately, I clung to the rope to steady myself. I quickly released the rope and jumped down from the stool.

I rushed to my desk, sat in the chair, and retrieved my diary from the drawer. With a ghostly smile on my lips, I flipped open the diary, picked up my pen, and began to write on the blank page before me.

‘Dear Diary, I’m not writing inside of you again.”

I paused and gazed at the words on the paper. A frown creased my brow, and I scratched out what I had written. I tore the page from the book, crumpled it, and tossed it toward the bin in the corner of the room.

It missed by a mere inch and landed on the floor. With a sigh, I turned back to my diary and opened a fresh blank page.

‘Dear Diary, I won’t be writing to you again after today. I’ve finally had enough of my unemployed status, of being a singleton for so long without being loved by anyone, and of life as a whole. I know very well that this would hurt my family, most especially my sweet, sweet mama, but I can’t go on. I don’t want to live anymore.’

I nodded in satisfaction as I stared at the page and set my pen down. As I started to rise from my chair, I hesitated and picked up the pen once more.

‘Unless, of course, a handsome man swoops in right before I leave this world and sweeps me off my feet. Then and only then would I want to live.’

I placed my pen at the center of the open diary, stood up, and returned to the stool. I stepped onto it again, grasping the knotted rope that dangled above me and wrapping it around my neck.

As I tightened it, just as I was about to close my eyes, the door swung open, and a guy walked in. However, it wasn’t just any guy. My eyes widened as I gazed upon the most attractive man I’d ever seen and my heart raced as he approached.

I swallowed a load of spittle as he finally stood in front of me. He blinked ever so slowly, as though teasing me, despite having a cold expression on his face.

I bit my lips and smiled widely at him, but suddenly, something clicked in my mind. The smile faded, replaced by a frown.

“Who are you, and how did you get in here?” I asked.

He remained silent, his expression cold.

“I asked you a — ”

I began to gasp for air, and in an instant, my hands desperately reached for the rope, which had tightened around my neck. I kicked in desperation, searching for the stool that had supported me moments ago, but my legs found only air.

I had been swept off my feet like I asked for, but this wasn’t what I had meant. I thought as tears stung my eyes and rolled down my cheeks when my eyes met the stranger’s icy gaze.

I want to live. I really want to live now. As I felt life slipping away, the man responsible turned and walked out of the room, leaving me with my struggles.

You see why we should not trust handsome guys? Their faces can be deceiving! Ever had an experience with good-looking guys making you forget your present struggles? Share your experience in the comments!

Anyway, did you enjoy the story? If you did, go ahead and hit that clap button till you hit 50 claps.

Don’t forget to click here to follow me and turn on the notifications so you don’t miss any of my stories.

Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

The sound of my labored breathing was drowned out by the wind rushing past my ears as I sprinted through the dense forest, leaping over tree branches. The hooting owls perched high above only intensified the urgency of the situation.

Suddenly, a cry of pain escaped my lips as I stumbled over a tree branch and tumbled to the forest floor. I clenched my lower lip and inspected my leg, which had a long, bleeding gash. Lifting my head, I gazed in the direction I had been running.

Although the forest ran for miles, I couldn’t afford to stop now, I couldn’t.

Gasping for breath, I forced myself to my feet, wiping the sweat from my forehead. Enduring the pain, I resumed my run, hoping I wasn’t too late.

Finally, I spotted a figure with long, black hair up ahead. I quickened my pace, drew a knife from my belt, and threw it forward with precision. A cry of pain echoed through the forest as the figure collapsed to the ground.

A triumphant smile graced my lips as I slowed down. Grimacing in pain, I limped closer to the fallen figure, and my grin widened when I saw the knife had struck her squarely in the chest from behind. I lowered myself to the ground and turned her face toward me.

“Please…” She pleaded softly as she stared at me with wide eyes and struggled for air.

I reached for her face, using my index finger to stop the blood oozing from her mouth.

“Thank you for being the fourth sacrifice,” I whispered, my smile softening as I watched the light slowly fade from her eyes.

You thought this was going to be another story where the main character was running from someone, weren’t you? Don’t lie. If you were shocked by the turn of events, go ahead and long-press that clap button till you give this story 50 claps.

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Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

Scrolling through the pictures of mangoes on my phone, I smiled widely and bit the bottom of my lips as I began to drool. It was the beginning of mango season, and I couldn’t wait to fill every inch of my house with my favorite fruit, as though I were a monkey hoarding bananas.

Out of the blue, an ad appeared, interrupting my mango revelry. Before I could dismiss it and return to the tantalizing photos, a question at the bottom of the screen caught my eye.

‘Are you a titus and fufu person or a beans and okro person? Click here to find out.’

“Which kind of stupid questions are all these ones? Titus and Fufu? Beans and Okro?!” I grumbled, my face twisted in disgust.

I leaned back against the dining chair, which I sat on, and closed my eyes. Surprisingly, the unreasonable question kept popping up in my head, pushing my beautiful mangoes out of mind. I snapped my eyes back open in frustration.

Why on Earth do I keep thinking about these rubbish food combinations?

However, instead of finding an answer to the critical question, I seemed to have found a headache instead. I shook my head and rubbed my temples.

My eyes met the face of the wall clock in my apartment, and they widened like saucers.

Shoot! Nevermind the stupid question; I was going to be late for work instead.

I leaped from my chair as if it were on fire, dashed to my bedroom, swapped my clothes, and raced out the door. Just as I reached the bus stop, I saw the bus already moving.

“Wait! Don’t leave! Wait!” I yelled, my cries falling on deaf ears as the bus sped off, leaving behind a trail of dust. I stopped panting.

“Damn it. There won’t be another bus for the next ten minutes.” I groaned and took a good look at my wristwatch. “Damn it, I’m so going to be late.”

“Mummy, this is the K-drama actor I have a crush on, Park Bo Gum; isn’t he so cute?!” The girly excitement caught my attention.

I noticed a mother and her teenage daughter, the latter in a school uniform, standing beside me. The daughter had an ear-to-ear grin while showing her mother her phone.

“He looks okay, but have you seen Hyun Bin, So Ji Sub, and Lee Dong Wook? Now those are the definitions of cute and handsome.” The girl’s mother sighed with a contented smile on her face.

I stared in surprise at the mother-daughter duo as they both argued about Korean actors. I noticed a man walk up to them and hug them.

“Papa, look at this fine man.” The girl grinned widely.

“I’m better looking than him,” the man replied, glancing at the picture, prompting laughter from the mother and daughter.

Staring at the scene, I felt a twinge of sadness. Not the fact that they were arguing about Korean actors; no, the fact that they were arguing and smiling.

I couldn’t remember a time where I acted freely with my mother or joked with my father. All I could remember with my family was being reserved with my overly expectant mother and my cold father, whom I never built a father-daughter bond with.

I turned away from the heartwarming scene, feeling a heavy weight in my chest. Then I stepped onto the road, hoping to clear my thoughts. Suddenly, a screech filled the air. Yells reached my ears, but I couldn’t make out the words. Turning left, I saw a car racing towards me.

Man, I won’t be able to get out of the way in time…

The car collided with my body, and for a brief moment, I felt weightless, like a feather in the wind as I flew upwards. I once heard our lives flash before our eyes at the final fall, but right now, there was only one thing that came to mind as I hung high above the ground.

Why on earth would someone eat beans and okro?

Hey, hey, hey there. Did you enjoy the story? If you did, long-press that clap button till it gets to 50 claps.

Also, what do you think about okra and beans for real? Let me know in the comments.

Don’t forget to click here to follow me and turn on the notifications so you don’t miss any of my stories.

Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

My trembling hands pushed open the swinging doors, revealing the chaotic scene within the hospital. Fighting my way through the bustling crowd, I made my way to the reception.

“Excuse me, where’s the emergency room?” My voice quivered as I inquired.

The receptionist pointed in a direction wordlessly. As my legs carried me towards the emergency room, I wished that this was just nothing but a common prank.

Inside, I approached the nurses’ station with a heavy heart. “I’m Erica Jackson,” I managed to utter to one of the nurses, my eyes welling up.

She glanced at her computer, typed a few words, and then met my gaze with eyes full of sorrow.

God, why on earth is she looking at me like that? Why…

The nurse rose from her seat, walked around the desk, and gently took my hand. “Follow me,” she said softly.

I didn’t ask any questions; I merely followed her as we left the emergency room behind. We continued walking until we reached a door with the daunting label “the morgue” above it.

“No, this can’t be,” I whispered to myself as we crossed the threshold.

This must be a mistake, I thought again as we approached a gurney. A long white sheet covered it, but there was a noticeable bump in the middle.

“That’s…” I stammered, unable to make sense of what I was seeing, turning to the nurse for some explanation.

“My condolences, ma’am,” she said, her expression filled with sympathy, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it.

Why the hell is she offering me her condolences? I questioned myself as my gaze returned to the gurney, and with trembling hands, I reached out and lifted the white cloth.

“Please, not you…” I begged, exposing what lay beneath.

My heart seemed to stop as I gazed at my baby girl, Trisha, or, as I fondly called her, my watermelon. A scream, followed by uncontrollable sobs, escaped my throat as I took in her pale face and blue lips.

Tears blurred my vision as I noticed the tiny bump on her belly. I grasped her shoulders, shaking her desperately. “Trisha, come back to me. Please, don’t leave me!” I cried out, but she remained still.

“It’s all my fault,” I confessed, my voice breaking. “I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. I should have understood, my baby.”

“Madam Jackson.” The nurse’s voice broke through my despair.

“It was just an unwanted pregnancy, and I had gone through the same fate, so why… why then did I push her to the point where she broke and had to end it all?”

“It’s okay, ma’am.”

“It’s never going to be okay.” I collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down my face. “Why did I think she could be as strong as me because I went through the same thing and came out alive? I should have reassured her that I’d always be there, but instead, I told her to fend for herself. Now I’ve let the child I carried for nine months break and fade away.”

Once more, I screamed in anguish, desperately hoping my watermelon would wake up and tell me it was all a bad dream, but that didn’t happen.

“I am so sorry, my baby.” I whispered as I stretched and covered her cold hands with my own, allowing my tears to fall freely.

My watermelon had broken, and it was all my fault.

Parents sometimes forget that they were once like us, don’t they? What are your thoughts about this story? Do drop it in the comments.

Also, if you did enjoy this story, go long press that clap button and give this story 50 whooping claps.

Don’t forget to click here to follow me and turn on the notifications so you don’t miss any of my stories.

Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

“Hey, big bro, I don’t understand why you’re not answering, but I’ll be home in just 15 minutes. Is Isabel still around? Well, I’ve picked up your favorite Chinese takeout. Love you. Bye.” The voicemail ended with a soft beep, and I tossed the phone aside.

Frustration surged through me, and I tightly gripped my chestnut-brown hair, which was haphazardly pulled into a loose bun on top of my head. I paced back and forth as panic mounted like a gathering storm, swirling into a relentless tornado inside me.

In a mere 15 minutes, Sophia would be here, and I had no idea what to do. I stopped for a second, and my eyes came to rest on Adrian, who lay lifeless on the mahogany floor, a gruesome axe embedded in his forehead. His vacant eyes stared into oblivion, and blood streamed from the wound, staining the polished wood beneath.

“Think, Isabel, think!” I hit my head as the waves of panic surged even more within me.

A sudden knock on the door yanked my attention away. “Isabel?” Lily’s voice pierced the air.

I hurried over to the door and opened it.

Rushing to the door, I flung it open. “Thank goodness you’re here. I’m lost and don’t know what to do,” my voice quivered.

“Hey, what was with the emergency call?” Lily asked as I gestured, and she came in.

As Lily entered, concern etched across her face, her expression transformed into one of sheer horror as her eyes landed on Adrian’s lifeless form.

“Oh my God, Adrian!” Lily exclaimed, rushing to his side, tears welling up in her eyes. She turned to me with a voice trembling in shock. “Isabel, what happened here?”

“Keep your voice down. It was an accident,” I said, desperation lacing my words as I walked closer to her.

“How is using an axe on him an accident? Where did you even get an axe from?” Lily yelled, her voice now cracking up.

“I was just asking him a few questions, and we began to argue. All of a sudden, we began to fight, and this happened.” I explained.

Lily began to sob as she pressed her trembling hands against Adrian’s cold arms.

“Lily, Sophia knows I’m here. If I leave now, they’ll suspect me as the last person who saw him. I can’t just leave him here,” I reasoned, biting my fingernails.

Lily whispered, “You’re the one who did this, Isabel. Of course, you’ll be the prime suspect.”

“Lily, I have to find a way to hide this body. I need ideas on where to do it,” I pleaded.

“You need ideas? You murderer!” She yelled and stared at me, her eyes red and filled with anger.

I stared at her for a second. “You know, Adrian was my boyfriend, but you sure seem more devastated by his death than I am,” I said as I reached behind me and wrapped my hand around the wooden handle tucked underneath my shirt.

“You murdered someone, Isabel.” Lily stopped sobbing, and her angry expression began to falter as she looked down, avoiding my eyes.

I nodded slowly and smiled. “Right… So, it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you two have been sleeping with one another for months, and now you’re pregnant for him?”

Lily’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto mine, shock painted across her face.

“Surprised?” I chuckled.

“Isabel… It’s… I’m sorry… It all just kinda happened.” Lily stammered.

I stared at her, and then my laughter echoed through the room. “Alright, I forgive you. After all, you’re my best friend,” I reassured her as I pulled her into a hug.

Feeling her tense body relax, I subtly pulled out the knife I had concealed underneath my shirt and brought it forward.

“You’re my best friend, so you should have known better.” I whispered, raising the knife and plunging it into her back.

A wide grin crept across my face as I heard her gasp in pain. I continued to stab her repeatedly until I could hear her gasp no more. Removing the knife for the last time, I let her fall back lifeless and snorted at her wide eyes, which must have been filled with fear but were now vacant.

Well, at least I’m done with the betrayers in my life. No one plays me and goes scot-free. I smiled as I wiped the knife clean on her shirt, savoring the twisted feeling of satisfaction.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. I rose and walked to the door gingerly.

One last piece of evidence to clean up before I go hide all the dead bodies. I thought as I opened the door with a wide grin on my face.

“Hello, Sophia.”

It’s not gory enough, I know, but still, you enjoyed it, right? If you did, you know what to do. Long press the clap button and give this post 50 whooping claps.

Also, what are your thoughts on her actions? Let me know in the comments.

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Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W

“Put that gear for control Z. Hmm, ahh, cellophane. Try go tear your cellophane.”

“Shut up!” My roommate, Debbie, snapped at me, her eyes aflame with irritation, as I sang Pepperline for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“I can’t get it out of my head.” I chuckled through a mixture of laughter and tears as I halted my singing.

Debbie gave me an exasperated look. “You know what? I’m going for a walk. Your voice is suffocating in here.”

“But it’s 8 p.m., woman.” I said, glancing at the clock.

“Well, out there should be less suffocating than being in here.” She huffed and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. I chuckled and locked it securely with my key.

“Pepperline line, pepperline line…” I resumed singing, swaying towards my bedroom door.

Then came three slow knocks on the living door. I immediately spun around, a sly grin on my face.

“I knew you’d be back. The outside world, which is less suffocating for you, must have been dark and scary.” I said with a laugh as I walked back to the door.

I flung it open, expecting to find Debbie. To my bewilderment, the doorway was empty.

“Okay…” I murmured as my grin transformed into a perplexed smile. I peered into the gaps alongside the doorframe, but no one lurked there.

“Pepperline line, pepperline line, let me tie my pepperline,” echoed from inside my bedroom.

My phone must be pressing itself again. I rolled my eyes. I headed toward my bedroom, entering to find my phone blaring Shallipopi’s song with enthusiasm.

“I know I have fallen you a lot of times, but please don’t spoil now. I can’t afford a new phone yet.” I pleaded with my rebellious device, stopping the music.

As I settled onto the bed and began scrolling through WhatsApp, the sound of running water filled the air. A puzzled frown crossed my face, and I rose to follow the sound outside of my bedroom.

I left my phone on the dining table as I passed through the living room. Upon reaching the kitchen, I discovered the tap gushing water as if on full throttle. My brow furrowed; I didn’t recall turning it on. I stepped further into the kitchen and turned it off.

“Debbie? Are you home and playing some sort of trick on me?” I called out, but silence greeted me.

My heartbeat quickened as I struggled to comprehend the eerie turn of events. Slowly backing out of the kitchen, I closed the door behind me as I stepped into the living room.

Just then, a knock reverberated through the front door. I squeaked and stared at the door in fear, my hand pressed against my racing heart and not moving an inch as the knock sounded again.

“Gina, open up!” Debbie’s voice, albeit annoyed, resonated from the other side.

I breathed out in relief and rushed to the door, throwing it open as my heart returned to its regular rhythm. “Something strange just happened,” I said as Debbie closed the door behind her.

Debbie arched an eyebrow, her expression blank. “Stranger than singing that nonsensical song?”

“The — ”

My phone sprang to life, once again playing “Pepperline line,” cutting me off.

“I won’t take this anymore.” Debbie marched to my phone, which sat on the table, and silenced it.

“My phone presses itself.” I shrugged.

Suddenly, the stereo turned on, playing the song without any prompting. Debbie shot me an irritated look while I gawked at her and the stereo. I raised my hands in defense. “It’s not me! The remote is right there on the stereo.”

Debbie gazed at the stereo; her vexed expression shifted to one of surprise as she confirmed my words.

Turning to me with a frown, she asked, “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know; like, I was saying some weird shit happened right before you came. The — ”

The kitchen door slowly creaked open, and Debbie and I turned at the same time towards it. Debbie shifted closer to me, her face now mirroring the expression I had on my face — one of fear.

“Gina…”

Suddenly, the tap in the kitchen turned on once more at full blast and began to fill the sink.

“Let’s just slowly move back and get the hell out.” I whispered to Debbie.

She nodded, and together, we took steps backwards and towards the living room door. Right when our backs hit the door, the lights all went off.

“Debbie…” I whispered into the darkness.

“I’m right here.” Debbie answered as she turned on her phone’s flashlight, dispelling the darkness. Together, we turned towards the door, only to find the keyhole inexplicably empty.

“The key was just right here. I had locked the door.” Debbie exclaimed with wide eyes as she kept on staring at the empty keyhole in the door.

“Gina…” A voice whispered

I swallowed a large gulp of saliva as I turned to Debbie with wide eyes. “Please tell me it was you who called me.” I whispered.

I heard Debbie swallow too as she turned to me with fear-ridden eyes. “It wasn’t me.” She whispered back.

“Gina…” The voice now whispered from behind us.

Slowly, we both turned around with the flashlight pointing upwards. My eyes met a figure, its face obscured by a curtain of black hair and sending chills down my spine. Despite my racing heart, my feet felt stuck to the floor as I watched the figure slowly lift its head.

“Pepperline line, pepperline line…” The croaky feminine voice sang as the curtain of hair shifted slightly, and pitch-black eyes met mine. Debbie and I screamed bloody murder.

Horrific enough, or were you able to chest it? Let me know in the comments, because I was scared to death writing this in the dark. If you did enjoy the story, do long-press that clap button and give this story a whooping 50 claps.

Don’t forget to click here to follow me and turn on the notifications so you don’t miss any of my stories.

Thanks for reading.

Yours Truly,

CeeJhay Walker,

C.J.W