nothing quite as painful

Its a feeling truly inevitable 
Like sunrise at dawn 
Or sunset at night, 
A day will come, 
When grey clouds will linger 
and the heart will ache 
With tears so strong, so bitter 
That one will see that 
There is nothing quite as painful 
Quite as awful 
As sleeping with a broken heart 

Many have cried 
Over a broken nail 
Or an aching tooth 
A lost battle 
Or a lasting war 
An aching head 
Or a painful bone 
But nothing is quite as painful 
Quite as awful 
As the throb of a broken heart 

That slow firm spin 
That lingers for a while 
That sobbing sound 
Groomed by the deepest pain 
No-one quite understands 
Those tears that burn 
Or that heart that bleeds 
Some wounds may heal, 
Some may fade, 
this one stops bleeding 
But still remains 
Droughts may strike 
And floods may come 
But there is nothing quite as painful 
Quite as awful 
As sleeping with a broken heart

love's confusion

Deep words can only express a poet's views
deep meaning expresses his feelings n opinion
And a broken heart sorts meaning and worth
While love sometimes feels broken but true

A cycle of confusion rises from misunderstood love
Leaving at times a feeling unexplainable
while questions and quarrels blossom in our hearts
uncertain of whether to go on or not
Whether its my heart alone that feels this love

Its grief and joy for lost but lasting love
A true image of mixed feelings
One's heart wonders if its loving separately that could spare its beat
But feels the need to hold on dearly until the end..

out-cried

The pain deep inside my heart
It pierces like a thousand knives
Too deep to endure
To strong to face
Yet the tears that should flow
They hide beneath my skin
I try hard to face them
To let them flow with ease
But my heart refuses to cry
My tears deny you victory
Why oh why does it hurt?
And yet I cannot grieve at all
Cry oh beloved heart
Cry and set me free
Let me grieve and be free
For as long as you are within me
I shall never see the light

i picked a flower today

I picked a flower today
Pink and rosy it was
Its leaves spreading from its core
In a strong, but lazy manner
It brinks with peace
Although not the strongest colour,
Its leaves did put a smile on my face
Its smell was unforgettable
Pure, rich, extraordinary
Like a thousand roses put in one

I picked a rose today
A rose so fair, so beautiful
It reminded me my inner child
No anger, no sorrow, no tears
A rose of peace I say

I picked a flower today
And it represented beauty
Beauty and glory
Its fairness, so brilliant
Its beauty was amazing
So amazing, only a sole reason explains
The planter dug a hole and planted a seed,
Watered and un weeded
But such fairness is not of human power
Such beauty is of glory
I picked a flower today
Planted by man
created by a living God

tonight i miss you

This pain...
I simply cannot explain
My thoughts toss and turn
They take me back to it
Yes, to what used to be
What could have been
Dare I say it?
Yes, what exists not!

Some nights I miss you
Some nights I miss your voice
Your singing
Those silly impressions that got me smiling in my sleep
Some nights I miss it all

Some nights I look into the mirror
And see what used to be me
Yes the same face that looked
Oh, that same face that smiled
Before the drought
The face that looked before the flood
Before it all, before all the tears
Before I fell

Some nights I look and smile
I smile at how I've grown
How I learnt to be
And maybe I found a portion of myself
In the sadness I found me
Some nights I miss you
Tonight is one of them

take me back to the beauty of the first love

Take me back to that time
The time of a beautiful first love
Where nothing but the purity of our hearts' love mattered
When love was not determined by how many diamonds he can buy me
Or how many dinner dates he can afford
Where love was planted in our hearts and blossomed there
When love letters still made us smile
And playing silly games together had meaning

Take me back to those beautiful days
When that beautiful lady was attracted to his heart and not his wallet
And a woman's heart was what a man sought in her
Where a woman believed she was beautiful, not because of her hair, but because of her heart
When love was genuine and pure

When falling in love still brought butterflies to her stomach
And in his eyes, she saw her husband
A time when a man loved so purely, so beautifully
That in her eyes, he saw the mother to his kids

Take me back to that time
When love didn't have to be so expensive
And simple things made relationships
When he knew she loved him
And she didn't have to guess he loved her
A time when love had meaning still
When a single rose meant, to a woman, what a diamond necklace means today
Take me back
Oh! take me back to the beauty of the first love

Assembling Yesterday's Puzzle

His question felt rather strange. Of course I knew him. I had loved him once, ten years ago to be exact.  I was eighteen back then and today standing in front of him was strange.  “I’m sorry” he said again looking deep in my eyes as if he could see right through me “Do I know you?” He knew me and I knew him. He had been coming to this library for the past two weeks at noon for the past two weeks and I had seen him gaze at me for hours although I pretended not to notice. I had seen him struggle everyday to remember why he felt he knew the nerdy librarian sitting behind the computer and today he had walked up to me and finally asked. I looked at him with a tender smile “me?” I asked, looking behind my chair to confirm, but I knew he was talking to me. “Yes you miss” he said. For a moment I felt a bit annoyed that he had addressed called me miss, although it is quite true that I’m not married. I wondered how he guessed it. It suddenly occurred to me that he had been the only person who had been able to read through me. He only had been able to see the tears behind my brilliant smile. Perhaps he could see right through me, perhaps he could see all the lonely tears that I hide so much. Maybe that tragic accident had not taken that ability from him. Maybe it really had not erased all of his past from his mind as the newspapers and television had reported. I remember when I saw this on front cover of daily news; it had been “Ryan McCarthy-sport beast loses his memory after tragic accident”. I had wondered if he would remember me and that one year when he meant everything to me. “I’m sorry sir, I have to attend to the group of students standing in line” I don’t think he had noticed the queue forming behind him. “What time is your lunch break? Can I talk to you then?” he asked pleadingly. I smiled and nodded and watched him return to the chair and looked at me as I shifted my attention back to the students who were waiting patiently.

I watched as the clock slowly approached my lunch hour and still he was looking at me. I imagined thousands and thousands puzzle pieces in his mind that didn’t seem to make any sense.  I could only imagine waking up and not knowing who I had been. I looked at him, his gaze didn’t leave me and he never once looked like he was losing his patience. He just sat there looking; just starring, like he was holding a puzzle piece but didn’t know where it fit in. one o clock, I saw the time on my wrist watch but I felt my legs stiffen, my feet cold with fear. Not the kind of fear one would feel at gun point, the kind of fear that one feels before a test, before an exam. He walked up to me “it’s your lunch hour, I know. I’ve been studying you for the last two weeks. “I smiled at him and made the library lunch announcement. “Attention all library users, the library is now closed until 2pm. You are all requested to leave the premises” it was odd that the library had to close, but they could only afford to employ one librarian when they opened this library three months ago and I had been lucky to be chosen.  Everyone walked out of the library and i closed the door behind them. Now they were alone and i felt the fear intensify. He didn’t scare me, rather he made me nervous.

 

we sat down. “Do you know me?” he asked. “Of course I know you. Who doesn’t?  You are Ryan McCarthy”. He smiled realising that it had been a silly thing to ask although he didn’t quite remember how big of a sports star he was. “You are teasing me” he giggled. “Do I know you?” his expression now serious. I hesitated a bit, looked down for a while and nodded. “Yes, you know me Ray” I said calling like I used to ten years ago with hope to trigger memory. “Ray “he repeated after me, and then his eyes lit up as if he got a glimpse of the past. He looked deep in my eyes. “Ray” he repeated again and again. “Tiffany” he said my name at last. I couldn’t help but smile, blush.  “Tiffany Hamilton” he said looking more excited.  “Nerdy Tiff, book freak” he said like a child. “Hey!” I laughed. “You don’t have to remember that”. We spoke for a while. He asked me questions about myself, I also did and he seemed to remember more and more details of his life although a big chunk of it still lingered in memory. I did not tell him how we used to be in love and I don’t think he remembered it. It hurt me quite a bit, but I wanted him to remember it himself. If that year had been as great for him as it was for him, he’d surely remember I told myself. He looked at me again “but it’s deeper than that isn’t it? “He asked “Don’t tell me, I’ll remember, maybe not today, but I will.”

 

He didn’t remember that day or the day after that when he brought me lunch or the weekend after that when we went out for movies. He just didn’t remember. I didn’t complain though, I loved his company and we were fast becoming friends. Ryan came by the library a lot. We would sit and talk during my breaks and he would come to my place and we would sit and talk for hours. Sometimes when conversations became intense, I thought he’d remember, but he didn’t. Sometimes I’d see him studying me and I’d think he’d remember, but he didn’t. Soon I gave up on him remembering and just enjoyed the company of the man who had fast become my best friend. “You are my best friend” he said to me one day over a game of truth or dare and I smiled at him. “You are mine too” I replied and we both smiled.

One Sunday night he knocked on my door, about eight months since he asked me if I knew him. I was quite surprised to see him. He usually called before he came over. "hi Ray" I smiled, he smiled too and came in. we sat and spoke for a while and then he said something that caught me off-guard. "how can a woman like you still be single Tiff?" he asked me sounding a bit serious. "heartbreak can deprive a woman of the ability to love" I said sounding a bit sad. " You love me, don't you Tiff? As a friend, I mean, you love me" he said smiling at her. "of course I do, but its the only way I can love" I said. My answer didn't quite satisfy him an I could see it in his eyes. We spoke until late, until he decided he had to go. I gave him a hug at the door. "Its deeper than this Tiff, and I'll remember" he said that and left.

H didn't remember, not that night, not the following month, or in the following six months. I had stopped hoping and I thought he had stopped remembering until one day before he left the library. he walked up to me after having sat and looked at me for three hours. "July the 2nd" he had said this and left. I was left stunned for a while. "July the 2nd" I had repeated after he left. Did I know this day? of course I did. We had met on July the 2nd, eleven years ago and separated a year later when he got a scholarship to pursue his career in sport in Germany. I was happy for him, and I wanted him to take the opportunity and he did. Years later he was a sportsman, a big one and I was where I had to be. I was a librarian with eight published novels and 26 short stories. I loved my job, being around books inspired me. That night he knocked on my door. " I remember" he said. "I remember that year Tiff." he smiled and kissed me. "The deep feeling, I know what it is. It's love. I remember how we danced next to the lake back in Florida. I remember the games we used to play and the love in your eyes. we were different, different but in love" he said this and he hugged me  tight. "Now I know why a woman like you is still alone, she is a waiting for a man like me to remember" I smiled. I loved him. "Don't deny it Tiff, I still see the love in your eyes and its beautiful, its intense. its the same love I saw when we danced next to the lake" I hugged him, This was the start of beautiful story. Every year on the 2nd of July we talk about our beautiful love story, about our year in Florida, our time apart and when he remembered, when he assembled the scattered puzzle pieces of his past.    

 

Strange Mother : My father's love, my mother's neglect

"Goodness!" Melinda sighed. she knew it was coming. She had been expecting the results for weeks now. She felt a bit of resentment to what she was about to see. She resented her parents, how could they just leave her to grow up with strangers. then she felt a bit of guilt. they had not been strangers until three months ago when they told her she was an adopted child. She loved them dearly. They had raised her like their very own. She had never felt like an outcast to the family. They loved her dearly, took her to school, gave her all the love a child could ask for. They were paying for her college education. They called her their daughter. They dropped her off in Berry villae college and picked her up every semester. Her brothers and sisters loved her like she was one of their own. And she was, they never once made her feel unwelcome. She picked up her cellphone and dialled the home telephone number. At once Josh was at the other end, His now deepening voice brightened up when he heard her voice. "sis, we never hear from you much these days, parties keeping you busy?" he chuckled. "oh dear brother" she said sarcastically "art thou not too young to ask me about parties" she giggled. They spoke for a short while and then she asked for her mom. " Mom, i got the envelope' she said in a now serious tone. " Oh dear, what does it say?" her mom answered in an even more serious tone. "I didn't want to open to open them alone" she said with her voice now shaking with emotion. She felt cold tears stream down her face. Why did it hurt her so much? She resented her biological mother and now finding out who she really was felt like a sharp pain in her heart. the gathered the courage to answer her mom who was now asking repeatedly if she was okay.

"No mom, I'm not okay" she cried  more heavily. "what did i ever do to her? why did she hate me so much that she had to give me away? I am not yours but you've loved me more than she could ever love me. why does she all of a sudden just show up and claim me as hers. you took care of me. you nursed me, you bathed me. you loved me as your very own, i love you mom" she said this and broke down even more. "Melinda, now listen to me. you've always been mine. i love as my own because because you are nothing less than that. you are my own" she said, now with tears also. she understood all too well what Melinda was feeling right now, She too had been an adopted child. Melinda held the envelope, hesitating a bit, and whispering to her mom "Mom, this will not change anything, will it?'  "Not a thing" her mother replied. She opened it and there it was. Dianne Wesley was her biological mother. the woman now laying in a hospital bed in need of a kidney was her mother.

It was a cold day. The snow was light but cold. she wore her red leather jacket and black jeans. The large wrap-around scarf that she wore made her look more chic. Her family was picking her up today. This time they were not taking her home. This time she was going to Dream Ville hospital, to see the woman who was her mother. She  went in. The room felt rather cold. She looked at her, she looked helpless; like she could close her eyes and it would be the end of her. Dianne looked at her and smiled. "you came" she found the strength to speak. Melinda just looked at her. She resented this woman. She felt neglected. "Why did you leave me?" she asked, with a lot of resentment in her voice. Dianne's smiled disappeared. " I was young. Your father had just died in a drunken accident. I was only 18. I was a drug addict, i didn't have any form of education, no job, no money, my family didn't want anything to do with me. I was too young, too stupid, too unstable, i couldn't take care of you. I couldn't give you anything. "

Melinda did not move, she did not smile. She just stood there looking at Dianne for a while and then she spoke with anger in her voice "You can't take care of me now. Why did you find me? You need a kidney, and I can give you one, can't I? ". Dianne said nothing, she sobbed heavily; her eyes deep with regret and pain. She felt something she had never felt before. The feeling of being selfless. she did not want the kidney, not from Melinda. Thinking about it, it made perfect sense. Wouldn't a sick mother who gave away a baby look for her when she needed a kidney? Desperation can do that to people, but she knew in her heart that this was not the reason she was here. She knew why she had come to look for her daughter. She had been looking for her for three years now, long before she knew she had kidney stones. She had been having dreams about the daughter she abandoned, wondering how she turned out and now here she was, her baby girl, more beautiful than she had ever imagined, but the resentment, the hate in her eyes was deep, so deep even she could sense it.

"Who is was my father?" Melinda whispered, looking straight at Dianne and sensing the pain in her. She didn't say anything for a while, she just cried even more. Melinda sensed a lot of pain in her, like there was something about her father that still haunted Dianne. It had been 19 years ago when he died, but she still sensed  the  love in her pain, like he had been the only man she loved. "James, that was his name, James Woods, your father loved me and he loved you. I remember how much he begged me to keep you, he begged me to quit drinking and  drugs. He begged me to go back to school. I loved him to, sometimes i feel like he is  the only man I can claim to have loved, but maybe I didn't love him the way he loved me or I would have fought to be a better person for him. He died in an accident, the other driver was drunk and he crashed into him and at that moment I knew I had to let you live, even when I knew I couldn't take care of you. I knew in my heart that you deserved a better life; a life that James would have given you had he had the chance to live. That  is why I gave you up, because I didn't want to take away from your childhood." With this Melinda cried, she felt guilt build up in herself, but she was not one to be easily manipulated. "Why didn't you just change yourself and keep me? Why didn't you change for my father? You kept me for him, why couldn't you change for him?" she said this and left. She still hated her, she did, but in a way she felt sorry for her.

 

At home Melinda sat and cried. She wished she had met her father. She imagined him as the perfect father in the world. Not more perfect that the man she had grown to know as her father, he had loved her unconditionally and had treated her as his daughter. She knew in her heart that it took a great man, a wonderful man to do something like that especially if they had kids of their own, but with James she felt a deeper bond, this is a man who had loved her before he knew her, a man who had begged for her to live. This was a man   who loved her, he was the reason she was alive now. For Dianne she had mixed feelings. She felt neglected and abandoned by her. what do you do when a strange woman, who is your mother show up in need of a kidney. The words tossed and turned in her head "strange mother" she whispered. Do you forgive how she abandoned you and help her or do you turn a blind eye and ignore her existence the same way she left you? That night she didn't sleep at all. Her mind kept her awake. Tomorrow she would know what to do and whatever she chose to do would change her life.  Whatever she did, in the end, she would be a different person. How? She did not know but she it would change her life forever    

 

       

Seven years behind

I was 18 when I last saw him. He was tall and had deep brown eyes. I remember the last time I saw him. It was after our breakup. We had been together for almost two years.  Had I known then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have loved him the way I did, the way I do. I am 25 now, just started my job as an industrial engineer. A lot has changed since the last time I saw Vincent. I’ve become more independent, more educated, more matured and more aware; especially when it comes to matters of the heart. So here I am; not planning to get acquainted, not planning to love and here he is, seven full years later, standing at my doorstep with carnations in his hands. I have always loved carnations. The deep pink in their smooth leaves always made my heart melt. I loved these flowers. If I recall correctly, he was the last person to ever buy me carnations.

I stood there puzzled, not sure what to do, I could slam this door in his face right now. I could close this door the way he closed his heart on me seven years ago. I could forget him now like I tried seven years ago, but I did not, I smiled, “Vince, Vincent Jacobs” I said, trying hard not to show the pain in my eyes. He smiled, handing to me the most beautiful carnations I’ve ever seen. Maybe it is because the last time I saw these was seven years ago, or maybe it’s the contrast between my love for the flower and the resentment I felt in my heart for this man that made these flowers look more remarkable. “Hello, Jennifer”, he said my name in full. He never did, unless there was something serious going on, but I didn’t ask. I am rather too grown up to be playing mind games. “Thank you” I said, absorbing the sweet scented smell of the flowers and inviting him in with my right hand.

I offered him a drink, he asked for tea. I knew how he liked it, but I asked, it had been seven years and things change in seven years. I excused myself as he drank the tea; I felt the need to change my clothes for he had caught me at a bad time. I was studying for my MBA exams. I was dressed in my short pyjama pants and wrapped in my morning gown.  I went to my room to change and when I came back he was still sipping on the tea. I sat down and asked him in a rather confusing way “What do you want?” I said this with a smile as bright as dawn, but my voice cold as ice. He looked at me, sensing the tension in my tone, but choosing to ignore it. “Jennifer” he whispered “I’ve missed you”. I did not dare smile, nor did I show any emotion. I wasn’t going to let the only man who made me weak know how much I missed him; how much I loved him, for I did, I loved him deeply. But he would never know. I wasn’t going to let this man know.  I loved him, but I resented him. I loved him because he had made a mark in my heart and I hated him because he had left it there when he walked out of my life.

I was only 18, young, bright and full of life. It was my first year in college. I was adjusting. I remember how I blamed myself, but it was never about me. It was all about Vince and his plans. I didn’t fit into his plans or his future. He wasn’t going to wait for me to finish my degree, because I didn’t fit in there. He wanted to settle down at 25, by then I would be 22 and still getting my degree. My education meant the world to me, it still does, and I always had dreams and being female; I wanted independence first before I settled down to be someone’s wife. I remember how he replaced me, he did, and it couldn’t have been more than a week. Sometimes I felt like she had always been there, but I always brushed that thought off, saving myself unnecessary pain. He knew I wasn’t going to answer, for I looked at him with nothing but resentment.  “Jen” he whispered “I’m sorry”. Again I said nothing, he reached out to hold my hand, and his hands had not changed. They were rough, but smooth. I remembered how safe I once felt when they touched me. Now it was different, I felt betrayed.

I pulled away my hand. “I don’t fit in” I whispered. I’m sure he saw for the first time how much those words had hurt me. They had scarred me. It is that day when I decided it was better to let it go. It was because of those words. “You don’t fit into my life plan” they had pierced me, for at that moment I knew I had loved where I was not loved. Even the thought still pierced my heart. Those words took away all the hope I ever had in love. He looked at me, not sure of what to say. I looked at him again and asked him to leave. He hesitated, but stood up. I could sense his eyes starring at me from above, but I didn’t look, not until his feet moved. Before he opened the door he said something that unsettled my thoughts. “You fit in now” he said. I looked at him, trying hard not to explode. “If I didn’t fit in your plans seven years ago, then I don’t fit in now. You didn’t love me enough then, you wont love me enough now” and with this he muttered something that I didn’t get, but I didn’t ask, instead I asked him to leave and he did.  Alone I  was left with bitter tears in my eyes, a bunch of beautiful carnations on my table and the same broken heart I had seven years ago, but now it was different. Now I didn’t blame myself, I didn’t, actually, I felt rather content, for I would rather be alone than be with a man who never made plans for me in his future.

Dear readers

As stated on my profile, My name is Vhuhwavho Maumela. I am 18 years old and I love to write and read stories. Thank you for reading through my stories and supporting my blog. One day when im older I would like to write a novel( maybe even two). I am just starting to show my stories to people outside my family or friends. I would really love your views and opinions on my writing. please do feel welcome to comment or contact me directly at vhuhwavhomaumela@gmail.com. I am open to ideas and advice to. thank you.

yours sincerely
Missvee, Vhuhwavho Maumela

cruelity of the universe

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The smell had been lingering for a while now. I am quite sure passers thought it was a cat.  Cats die frequently in Hilbrow, Johannesburg. I am sure it was not just here. It was all over South Africa. Where I come from Limpopo, was a naturally beautiful province. We had cats there normally wild cats. They died all the time. They were hit by cars or killed by other cats. It was normal, cruel, but normal. Many say it’s the universe’s way of balancing life in the animal kingdom. I simply say its cruelty of the universe. It was also very normal to have such smells in Hillbrow, after all, this suburb is known for high crime, prostitution and drug abuse, but above it all was pollution.. I don’t think I had breathed a breath of fresh air since I got here. The air was dense, heavy with the life around this place. Limpopo’s air was clear and fresh, but a man must go out into the world and find his purpose. With my highest academic achievement being a mere high school certificate I had set out to Johannesburg to find a job. This city is known as the city of gold, city of dreams; the USA has New York City. South Africa has Johannesburg; the biggest economic city in the country. It sounds all glamorous when you don’t live in it, but this place, I have learnt, is the wide road to hell that is mentioned in the bible.

I stood there in disbelief. It was not a cat. It wasn’t even a dog. It was a baby; a dead baby. The lingering smell was the smell of his tiny body rotting in the flat trash storage bins.  He looked…I don’t know. I simply cannot find a word to describe that sight without being disrespectful of the dead. It is custom in the South African black community to respect the spirit of the dead no matter how young. I looked at him. He did not look like he was resting. The looked tired of screaming. He looked like he was calling out and no-one seemed to hear. Well, not until now. His eyes where filled with blood and his gut cut wide open. Who in his right mind would do this to a child? He looked no older than a year old to me. But I wouldn’t know: I had never really seen a kid grow in front of my very eyes.  What do I do with a dead baby?  If he were alive, I could take him in; try to give him the love he needs because I felt like he had died too young. I felt he had never really experienced the love a father can truly give to a son.

And then I looked around me. I was in Johannesburg. What would happen to me if I reported this to police? The police would find its mother and she would be questioned.  If she knew I had reported this, she would probably try to kill me. I know I sound paranoid, but this is clearly a woman that had killed before. Maybe I am being too quick to judge. Maybe the child was abducted from his mother and she didn’t know where he was.  I felt a chill down my spine. I was never a man of fear, but today, right now was different. I felt scared. The abductors could be watching me right now. They could be aiming a gun at me. I could turn around and find a man with a knife. I could be dead in the next minute; all because I tried to call the cops on a dead baby. I turned around, hesitated a bit, but moving on. As I moved away from the bin I felt slight relief. I was escaping the danger. Every step I took felt safer. My father had always told me to always do the right, humane thing, but my father was not here now and the child was dead already, I convinced myself. What good could I be to him now? This was Johannesburg and it was no place for a man like me. Someday someone would find him and maybe they would do the right thing for me.  I couldn’t help the child. I simply couldn’t.

It still haunts me today. Twenty years later. I still wonder to myself. Did anyone ever find the child? What if he had truly been abducted? Has the mother found peace? I really wonder if I could have helped her find her child. But what if it was her that had killed him? Was she ever prosecuted? Does the child’s DNA still linger in that place? Did another man find the child? Did he call the police or did he submit to fear the same way I did? I will never know neither will I forgive myself.

my father's fate

Daniel couldn’t believe this. The man he had grown up to respect as his father had just been arrested and sentenced to death by hanging. His own father was the serial killer that Britannia had suffered from for the past three years.  Eight women had been killed and two were left to die in the woods and found by police after a whole week of searching. They had described the suspect to police. Daniel remembered the day he saw that photo. Even when he saw that the man bore much resemblance to his father, he did not want to believe his father was responsible for this. How could he be? Rosemary had been attacked and killed by the serial killer. It couldn’t be him. Why would he rape and murder his son’s own fiancée? But police evidence had proved it was him. He had raped and murdered all eight victims including his beloved Rosemary, the women he had sworn to marry.

He took one look at his father. This was him, the man who had taken the life of his beautiful wife to be.  He felt partially guilty because although this man had killed seven others, he felt as though his heart would excuse all of it if he hadn’t touched Rose. How could he touch his son’s fiancée? She was forbidden fruit, especially for him. At once Daniel gathered the courage to speak.  “Why dad? Why Rosie?  Of all the women in Britannia, why did you have to touch her? My one and only true love, why did you have to take her away from me? Father, I loved her. Of all the women in the world father it is her that I loved, tell me why you had to take her away from me” Richard looked at him. There he was, Daniel, the little boy he had loved from birth. He had watched him grow and cared for him more than he had cared for his other children. He was proud of him. Dan was an excellent lawyer; he owned 5 businesses in town. How could he tell him he did all this out of pure insanity?  How did he tell him he had the urge to kill and make people suffer after he had witnessed his own wife murdered three years ago? How could he tell him he was angry at the world for not attempting to find the men who had entered his house and slaughtered his wife with an axe?

 

And then he spoke “I am sorry Danny; I didn’t know it was her. I wouldn’t have touched her” and then his eyes glittered, tears streamed down his face. “Danny, I’m sorry” he said this and he looked down. That had been the events of their last meeting. Tomorrow he would see him again in the prison hanging room. His father would be killed tomorrow. He would have to suffer the consequences of his wrong doing. He would be murdered like he murdered Rosie. Murdered the same way mother had been murdered three years ago. He could appeal and represent his dad in court. They could appeal for a lighter sentence, but he was not going to do that. Not to the man who had killed the love of his life. Not to him, he would have to die. 

 

He looked at him. He was sure he had been the last person his father had seen. His other siblings did not show up. They were angry at what he had done to people. For him, it was different. He had a grudge to hold. He wanted to see it; the death of a man who had ruined his life. He felt happy but sad; the kind of sadness that completed him. And when his father’s neck broke, he felt his heart ache and then he realised what he had done. He had let his father die. He felt no better than his father, he felt as though he had killed a man; as if he had pulled the rope that had killed his father. His father had never tried to appeal solely. He had placed the ball in Danny’s court and Daniel felt as though he had failed to play. He remembered the promise he gave to Rosemary’s corpse. “I will make sure the man who did this pays with his life” he had promised, but then he wouldn’t have dreamt it to be his own father. He left feeling like a true lover and big hero to his late fiancée yet feeling like an even bigger traitor to his father. As he drove home he wondered to himself, what will separate a man and his father if it isn’t true love?    

the last of my marriage

Melanie looked at him. She searched deep in his eyes for answers that would never come. She didn’t understand how things had turned so bitter; how her life had changed in just a blink. Inside she felt as though her heart was crying out for help. She felt as though her heart screamed in vain; that no one could hear her scream. His big dark eyes starred at her. It had been a while since they starred at her. In fact it had been a while since they looked at her at all. Sometimes she thought they didn’t notice her at all. Today they starred at her the same way they had starred at her five years ago on her wedding day. Today was however a very different occasion. Today they had nothing to celebrate. It was regret and not happiness that she felt now. It was heartbreak that lingered in her mind. She felt as though she was looking at a different man; as If he was not the same man she had locked eyes with five years ago. And then it all came back to her. She remembered everything like it had happened yesterday.

 

She remembered their wedding day. She had been the happiest woman on the planet and he the happiest man. Her father had walked her down the isle; he had been so happy for her. He knew he was sending her off to a good man. She knew he believed that when he died. He had been a victim of leukaemia and had surrendered to it three years ago. Then, she and Rick had been married for two years. He had been the most supportive husband. Melanie loved him then, she loved him now, but things were different now. Things had changed now. It was a different kind of love tat she felt now; a more matured love. Almost as if this love had reached its ultimate maturity. It was the only thing that explained why she still loved this man. Nothing else could explain it.

 

She remembered their honeymoon. It had been a year later. They hadn’t the money to go on a honeymoon when they got married. She remembered how she dressed in her wedding dress and he in his wedding suit. She remembered how they had repeated their vows in their bedroom the morning before they left to Mauritius. They had saved for this trip for two years before the wedding and a year after that and finally they were going on the honeymoon of their dreams. She had loved him then; and she still loved him now; with a different kind of love. She had been happy on that honeymoon. Her eyes had glittered with happiness; and they glittered now, only this time with tears and as she looked across, she saw that his eyes too glittered, not in the same way they did four years ago, they glittered with painful tears.

 

And then she remembered their married life. It had been glamorous. They had danced in the living room of their apartment which was not of any form of luxury. They never had much; never had enough, but they had each other. They had sang and danced in that apartment like it would be the last time they danced together, neither of them being much of a dancer, but dancing as if they were famous dancers  Martin and Donnelly Adams. Rick was a better singer than she, but she always dared to challenge him to a singing competition. They had laughed together and they had been happy; very happy. That was until two years ago.

 

Tears streamed heavily on her cheeks when she thought about it. They were great until she lost their firstborn child.  She was three months pregnant when she had that miscarriage. She had cried every night since. That is when things changed for them. Rick had always wanted kids and when doctors confirmed their worst fears, it had broken him in ways that made her feel guilty. It was her after all who couldn’t carry full term. It was her problem. They drifted away in ways that she had failed to fix. From that moment on, Rick had never been the same. He had given into alcohol and had beaten her in his insanity. He had called her names and mocked her for being unable to give him children.  The pain she felt now; it was all because of this. All those words he had said to her, they had scarred her too deep. It felt as though they had taken away her womanhood. She too was to blame. In her darkest hour she had sort comfort in the wrong company. She had kissed another man.  She didn’t love him and rather felt nothing for him, but she had committed that one mistake; that three- seconds kiss that haunted her. He too had brought in another woman into the picture. She felt hurt and betrayed, but had stayed with him; all because she loved him.

 

All this could have been pardoned six months ago when Rick had apologised to her. She had loved him then; she loved him now. They had tried to fix their relationship, but there was too much pain; too many tears. There was not much of a marriage left there. She couldn’t love him the same way. He had tried very hard to fix it all, she had too, but her heart had given up. She had given up on their love; their friendship. It was all over for her and then she looked at him again; this time crying more than ever. Reaching across the table she grabbed the pen and his head shook in disbelief and the she signed them and handed them to him. She stood up to go and looked at him as he cried in a way she had never known. There he was, her now ex-husband. He sobbed heavily and her heart broke, but it was too broken to be fixed. Their marriage was over and she walked away feeling happy but broken. Love wouldn’t be enough to fix them.  She closed that door for the last time. It had been home for five years. Now it was just an apartment with bitter-sweet memories. Rick stayed inside and looked around with the divorce papers in his hands. He did not sign them. He felt as though they still had a chance, but to Melanie, it was all over, all gone, it was the end.