Anniversary

I am excited. So excited. So excited that I pluck all the dandelion I see on the field opposite our house.

Sometimes I wish Belle likes red roses like other girls. It is not easy to pluck dandelions without letting any floret fall.

But that’s what makes Belle special. One of the many things that make Belle special, I mean. And that’s why I’m still excited at our seventh wedding anniversary.

“Honey, I’m home!”

I shout as I turn on the lights.

Wait a minute. Turn on the lights?

Belle told me that she is on leave today and she is so scared of the darkness that she never remembers to switch off the lights.

Something doesn’t feel right and that’s when I hear a quiet sobbing from our bedroom.

Something is not right.

“Honey?” She is sitting at the corner of our room. The corner under the window where sunshine fails to brighten.

She does not answer.

“What’s wrong?” I hug her gently, wondering what can be wrong. Neighbour’s dog is still alive, there are no dark clouds in the sky and I can’t detect the smell of any kind of burned food.  

I try to lift her head to see if there are any pimple on her face.

“I’m sorry, Zac.”

She looks up, tears streaming down her smooth, clean face.

No pimples, no dark eye circles.

Maybe she can’t fit into her new XS body hugging dress?

“What happened?”

“I… I… I’m sorry… “

“Calm down. Take a deep breath, honey. Tell me. What happened?”

“I let him in this afternoon… I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t… ”

Something in me exploded and died.

“Who?”

“I couldn’t say no to him… I’m sorry… “

“Who, honey? Who?”

“You have not met him… You don’t know him… And… Actually... I have only met him a few times… But… He entered today… I couldn’t say no… I couldn’t… “

“Where did you let him in? Where?”

Belle covers her face with her hands and starts crying again.

My head is a mess. A terrible mess.

“Calm down,” I say to Belle and to myself as well. “Please, Belle. I beg you. Calm down and tell me what happened.”

“He… He made me lie down and… and… and he entered... And… and… I let him in me… “

I feel disgusted and angry. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I love her so much, and she cheated on me?

Why?

I take a deep breath. A very deep breath.

“I’m not mad.”

Bullshit. Of course I’m mad. But before I get mad, I need to know what happened and how it happened, and most importantly, who is that bastard.

“You had sex with someone else?”

Belle continues crying. I take it as a yes.

I don’t know what to say and I don’t know what to do.

“It was painful and I felt numb and…  I… I can’t go on.”

I notice that Belle is trembling and all of a sudden I am ashamed at myself for feeling angry.

Maybe, maybe she was raped.

She must have been raped. Belle would never cheat on me. She would never.

I hug her tighter. I’m not sure how to help her but I will always be with her no matter what happens. When life gives you a lemon you make lemonade and all that nonsense.

Suddenly she bursts out in laughter.

“I let the dentist’s fingers and dental instruments entered my mouth.”

Sometimes I wish Belle can be a little less abnormal, but then again, like I said, that’s what makes her special.

And once I stop feeling worried and angry, I get even more excited than before.

Playing a prank on me builds up Belle’s sexual desire.

Laughed

At the train station he kissed her. First the lips, then the tongue, followed by her neck and finally his lips and his tongue and his hands found their ways to her bosom. She was shocked and tried to push him away.

“Are you scared?”

He laughed.

*

She wore a mini skirt to the cinema. He suggested that they watch Annabelle.

It was a horror story, yes it was. Not because of the ugly doll, but because he placed his hand inside her skirt, up her thighs, up her panties, into her panties, with his long fingers exploring what was within.

She tried to escape but there was no way to run.

His eyes were still fixed on the screen.

“What kind of idiot would accept an ugly doll like this for a gift?”

He laughed.

*

Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it was planned.

After a night out with Klang’s seafood where a friend’s car conveniently broke down, she ended up spending the night in his room.

At 4.00am, the white bed sheet turned red.

“Gosh! You are… ?”

He laughed.

*

She was drying her hair in the public bathroom all alone after a relaxing night swimming, covered in nothing except a short white towel that was only long enough to cover her private parts when he barged in, removed her towel, kissed her, touched her, aggressively attempting to penetrate her.

She resisted, but she was just a girl.

“I checked. No one here.”

“But this is a public - ” she begged and stopped in the middle of the sentence as she heard him moaned.

“Do you want anything for supper?” He asked when it was all over.

She shook her head.

“Tired from our little exercise?” She did not respond.

He laughed.

*

It was the time of the month when nothing was right for a girl, and to make things worse, the crimson liquid oozing out of her did not discourage him from wanting her.

She said no.

“But you’re my girlfriend,” he begged. “You’re the only one I want. Give me. Please?”

She wanted to escape but he pinned her down.

“You know you can’t run.”

He laughed.

*

"You're not wearing it," she pointed out in a small voice as he undressed her, crying a little.

"It doesn't feel good."

"But I might get pregnant. Please?" She pleaded.

"Nah, that's harder than winning lottery. Don't worry."

"But..."

He bit her lips to shut her up. She winced.

"Don't pretend. You like it, don't you?"

He laughed.

*

He pulled and pushed her head as he moaned, louder and louder, finally releasing him in her mouth.

She wanted to spit it out but he made her swallow it.

"You look pathetic."

He laughed.

*

He didn’t tell her anything, but she heard.

Everyone in school talked about it. How they had been sleeping together. And if she didn’t say a word…

She wanted to ask him.

Why would he tell others about the colors of her bras and panties? Why would he tell others about how often they did it? Why would he tell others about how she behaved on bed?

Why?

She wanted to ask him. She took a deep breath and walked towards him, anger boiling in her. He noticed her, smiled a little, and continued looking at his phone.

He was watching the video where he was in her mouth.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say a word…

He laughed.

*

New city, new friends, new phone number.

She was exhausted after hours of unpacking in her new room.

Her phone rang. It was her sister.

“How’s everything?”

“Good.”

“And so the chapter ends.”

“And so a new chapter begins.”

Feeling a little cheerful, a little relieved, she laughed.

Ghost-Writing

Being a ghost writer means that no one would know that I'm the creative soul behind the story or article that they are reading.

*cries in a corner*

On the other hand, it also means that if they don't enjoy what they're reading, they won't complain to me.

*jumps in joy*

Anyway, lately I've ghost-written these:

1. Old Wine, Old Wife

2. A LUCYd Experience

3. Tale As Old As Wine

4. Wine Investment : Profit or Pleasure?

Also very happy to say that The Fem published my short story, Eyes, which I had shared with The Writer's Tower previously.