Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

~Just a note: This story's setting is supposed to take place somewhere in the 1900's. All characters are white(no offense intended)-though I suppose that's obvious~

"I'll be back. Don't worry...unless.." he shook his head, and smiled that dazzling smile, the one which captured my heart. The one which obliged me to marry him, to obey him. He often used that special smile to assure me. But today, that did not work. "Unless what?" I asked, concerned. His smile broke into a frown. "Nothing. Don't worry." He blinked.

It irritated me. "Don't worry." He was forever saying that. Always trying to reassure me that everything was fine, nothing would happen, he would return to me- safe and sound. Well, he hadn't broken his promises. Never.

I let it slide, to avoid a verbal disagreement. "Okay," I replied. I stood on tiptoe, carefully tucking my light hair behind my ears, and kissed his cheek. He stared at me, my vivid blue eyes reflecting in his gray.

But I still didn't trust him. He had blinked after that statement. My mother always told me that blinking meant you were lying or hiding something. And she was right most of the time. She could tell when my brothers and sisters were lying, alright. That included me.
John could be hiding something, but I doubted it. Even so, a little voice argued. He usually told me where he was going, he didn't say so tonight. He told me it was a 'secret'. For the years I had known John, he had never kept a secret. Why the secrecy now? I became suspicious. That is when I made the decision. I would follow him.

What I didn't know was what it would bring upon me.

He waved one last time and left. Just like that. I watched him from my round window. John walked straight ahead on the cobblestone street turning left into the first alleyway. Why would he do that? I didn't know anything was over there. What could interest him there? I would find out. I was rather surprised at my own daring. I wasn't usually like this. Mostly emotional and shy, never adventurous like my other chums.

I slipped on my soft leather moccasins, I had got them as one of the gifts to keep from an Indian tribe for saving one of their children from drowning.
(Our family lived near a tribe when I was young)
It was good for stalking someone with, didn't make a sound. Which was why I chose the particular shoe. I opened the door, and was welcomed into the fresh cloudy night. The wind was slight, the clouds a dark gray, and the moon serving as a streetlight. It would rain soon.
I scurried across the cobblestone road, trying to blend into the shadows. Turning into the same alley as my husband, I could make out a hazy figure in the distance. John. His silhouette steered in another direction, right.
Why the many twists and turns? Stealthily, I skulked among the shadows. It reminded me of the times when I was young...

My friends, Anna and Juliet, used to play hide-and-go-seek. We would creep in the shadows, just as I was doing now. Juliet always won the game, we could never find her in the maze of alleyways. Anna and I gave up every single time. Juliet wanted to be a spy for her country, eccentric she was, but she would have been a good spy. It was unfortunate that she died of pneumonia at age fifteen. I remember her funeral, everyone was crying. I mourned for months, and have never truly overcome it..

I refocused, catching a glimpse of John's silhouette, as he veered right. Left, right, right. Where was he going? I took to his direction, and in an instant, caused a loud racket. I had kicked at a mound of pebbles by accident. They went scattering in every which way, banging against the walls. John's figure stopped moving.

"Who's there?" he called out, rotating. I shrank back in the shadows for a few tense minutes, completely still. My mind screamed at itself for doing such a senseless move. Next time I had to be more careful. If there was a next time.

I think John concluded that it was a lonely cat, or something of that kind, he mumbled incomprehensible words. He started his uneven gait again. The next turn he took was somewhat of a startling surprise, but that was nothing compared to the crushing scene I would find moments from there.

An ordinary block of small houses faced me. Why, this was just another ordinary avenue. What was John doing here? I soon found out, to my dismay.

John chose the second house on my left, and knocked on the door. A blonde woman wearing a revealing dress that hugged her sensual curves in the right places, opened the door. I peered closer. She had startling blue eyes, full red lips, and a mischievous look on her pale face. About the same age as John. I started to worry, half suspecting the truth.

"John!" she exclaimed in an awful sugary voice, which immediately turned to a deep throaty growl. "So, did you ward off that devil bitch?" she asked.

"Kirsten? Of course, she doesn't suspect a thing," John said smugly. He meant me.
I gasped, unable to move. John and that woman had called me a- it was too horrible to even think. I watched as my worst nightmare came true. The woman kissed my husband. My husband. My life. I don't think they would have stopped had it not start to rain. "Susan, my dear, why don't we go inside and finish were we left off last time?" John said huskily. The damned witch -Susan- smiled and beckoned him inside. Which he gladly accepted.

I, oppose to my husband, was not in such a good mood. Devastated. Shocked. Furious. Those words would most likely describe me at that moment. I could only think of what my brain registered a few moments again.

Why? Why did John do this to me? How I loathed him! To put me through so much anguish in such a way.. Disgraceful. Painful.

I cried, slumping against a brick wall as the rain began to strike more brutally. This was betrayal. How could he? And I never knew a thing. I could have stopped this from happening! But it was too late.
Frustrated, I slammed my fist against the damn wall. Something cracked. And it wasn't the wall. I didn't care as the searing pain entered my hand. I would rather die, it almost sounded peaceful. And no wonder. How can you watch as someone you loved, thought you loved, make love with another? I could not. Susan, that devil woman. She stole the only other person I loved. Devil! That word circled around my head. My love, I wanted him so. Yet I didn't. To hell with him and his she-devil, I condemned them.

As the reality sunk even lower into my heart, I was incapable of receiving anything else. Was I dying? In a way, I hoped so. As my vision dimmed, along with my other senses, it was almost calm. I experienced an eerie silence as the memories of my childhood and teen years flashed through my head one more time. Then came the marriage...John. He was all I could think about, my last thought. "John, why?" I breathed. Then I lapsed lower than my heart felt. I knew nothing else.


The following comments are for "Fatal Anguish (Rated PG)"
by Cryptic Rapture

You hit the worse thing that could happen to anyone. The the irony of how much you love that someone but at the same time u wish he'd be dead. Pretty true when a relationship ends this way. And you brought out the rage and disappointment the best way you can as a twelve year old. I'm impressed! :)

ps. thanks for your comment too!

( Posted by: ^white [Member] On: October 27, 2003 )

This is a pretty good story and at times I felt almost like I was watching a film - especially when she is following him through the cobbled streets.

I very much like your writing style - short, economical sentences that create immediacy and tension.

The very last line is stunning in that it is so simple yet perfectly describes an utterly broken heart, struck dumb.

I do think that you could cut a few things which would help tighten up the story. For example, "He meant me" - it is already obvious it is you. Also, "Kirsten? Of course" and just say "She doesn't suspect a thing."

I did have some trouble picturing where these scenes might be taking place -cobblestone roads and alleys with blocks of houses. Yet she is wearing Indian moccasins and the characters have Anglo names.

But all in all, you have done some nice work here.

( Posted by: gomarsoap [Member] On: November 2, 2003 )

Carry On
Well written. You have something in you. Please sharpen it.

( Posted by: Rakesh [Member] On: November 5, 2003 )

Thank you..
Thank you, people, for your comments. I value the few reviews I recieve. Rakesh, and ^white, thank you for your self-boosting reviews. They make me feel happier. Also, gomarsoap, I take account of you reviews, they always have something which I can help to make my short story/poem better. I'll fix a couple of things in here, but for now, I am working on the other poem you reviewed. Thanks again for your comments.

( Posted by: Cryptic Rapture [Member] On: November 6, 2003 )

Don't stop writing!
I only joined this site recently.This is the 1st story I've read so far.I like it.
Never stop writing if you enjoy it. No matter how many, or few, comments that you receive.

( Posted by: Storyteller [Member] On: November 7, 2003 )

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.