Love is not enough.

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keji

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Joined: Wed Oct 13, 2010 1:00 pm

Location: lagos,9ja

Post Sat Jan 29, 2011 7:34 pm

Love is not enough.

He shrieked. His eyes revealed fear, pride, but mostly surprise. His eyebrows were arched at an angle; he was fully aware of his fate. “Nkem, please, don’t do this”, he begged. “I love you and you know it”.
 
She smiled. Her frenetic heart beat had been replaced with the still of the night. Her calm mien scared him even more. She stood firmly with the knife in her hands. Resolute. This was her time, the single moment in history that accounted for all the pain and suffering; the nights of despair, the blinding romance with insignificance, the endless stream of living in his shadow.
 
From the onset, there had been the unmistakable omen lurking. “I just don’t like him”, her sister had once remarked. She had become ostracized from her family, had become a captive of love’s plague. She adored him and turned a deaf ear to the warnings. He indeed had begun as a charmer, the dare-deviled rake. His beguiling words drew her close; assuring her that their fears were misplaced.
 
The assaults began subtly; his loving tongue became a scorching whip; striking hard at her very soul. His mordant remarks created a vacuum in her heart. With every irreparable lurch at her core, she resolved to love him even more. She began to identify with his pain. She could change him; she convinced herself, all it needed was patience. The physical assault followed immediately. He unleashed his frustrations on her, hit her ferociously, and subjected her to utter pain and grief.  She empathized with him, understood his fears. She received every strike with resolve; this was the man she loved. When the cloak of madness was gone, he would return to beg, wooing her over with the touch of his tongue. The sex that followed was great, numbing her pain, driving her over the edge, inducing her surrender to ecstasy’s sweet release.
 
But that night, he went too far. The argument had been over a worthless piece of match box. He had begun calmly and then suddenly and swiftly, his voice pitched to a terrifying crescendo. His rage had gotten the better of him in times past but this time, it was something else in his eyes. Something a lot more evil. The slap was so swift; it was too late for her to duck. She received the full weight of it, her head hit the kitchenette and she collapsed on the floor.
 
“Are you mad? Is it me you keep talking back to?”His growl was even more menacing.
 “I’m sorry, Nkem”, she muttered through sob clenched teeth.
“What did you say? You are sorry?” he retorted. “I need to teach you a lesson for the last time.”
“Nkem, please”, her desperation was more apparent as her voice rose in supplication.
 
Her fear and pain fueled his desire. He grew hard instantly. He dragged her from the floor like a rabid dog and stood her up till she was facing him directly; shivering in fear of things to come. He sneered, slapped her again across the face and she began to bleed. With one quick jerk turned her around and bent her over. He raised her skirt waist high, her screams arousing him even more; driving him to frenzy. His heart raced. This was going to be the best ever. In less than a second his hands found the cleft between her thighs. He ripped her panties off and he thrust himself straight into her dampness. Her hysteria was palpable.  She screamed, fighting frantically for her life, her dignity, her pride. She clawed the space around her with her fingers; attempting in futility to grasp some form of succour.
 
His perversion was insatiable; he removed himself in search of a more fulfilling thrill. He split her legs even wider and thrust into her arse. Pain exploded in her brain, her screams got louder as he thrust with all the force he could muster. His rage heightened with every fierce, malevolent jerk of his waist. The sight of blood incensed him even more, he laughed a thunderous laugh. This was going to be the best ever. In a few minutes, the madness was over. The cloud of clarity returned and for the first time took in the damage he had done. His semen was mixed with trickles of her blood. She had collapsed to the floor, her limp body sprawled in ignominy’s grotesque form.
 
Ironically, it wasn’t the pain or the shame that angered her: it was the love. Her years of humble subservience, her dedication and determination to cater to him, all her money he squandered on his debauchery. Her whole life, she had stood up for him, had looked the other way even when she knew the stench of is infidelity was choking life from her lungs. “Nkem”, he had always called her. At first, she thought it was an endearing symbol of his desire to stay in her life forever, but she now understood that it was his possessive drunkenness.
 
 
The tables had turned now. It was he who was begging for mercy.
“You love me?” she exploded. “Love?” She bent over him, the knife raised high and screamed with all the strength she could muster; “Love is not enough!” With that, she brought the knife down to his heart, stabbing and thrusting in remorseless frenzy. She traced the tip of the blade to his groin and severed his limp penis. Even after his vile soul had been called by the giver of life, she continued to pillage his body, wanting to take from him everything, to dishonour him in death as he had done her in life.
 
He tapped her gently. “Nkem, please wake up. I’m sorry, please forgive me. I didn’t know what I was doing. You know I love you. You consume me”. She opened her eyes and remembered where she was, curled in that fetal position where her entire body and soul had been defied. The pain returned in an instant and spread through every crease in her body. She looked up at him as she lay in his arms while he tried to placate her burning heart. She smiled slightly, forcing herself to sit up. With every move, the pain was unbearable. She let go of his embrace and helped herself up till she was standing straight. She turned away from his probing and surprised eyes and made her way to the kitchen cabinet.
 
She looked at the knife, its lethal iridescence inviting her. It was exactly like she had seen in her trance as she passed out. Too long. She had shouldered his pain for too long. She had cried his tears for what seemed like an eternity. It was time for him to bear her pain.  As she drew the knife out from the rack, with tears in her eyes and a quack in her voice, she muttered under her breath; “Love is not enough”
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Wole

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Posts: 2296

Joined: Sat May 22, 2010 2:26 am

Location: Lagos, Nigeria

Post Sun Jan 30, 2011 2:08 pm

Re: Love is not enough.

Nice Short Story! However, I don't like the part of her dreaming about chopping off his penis. Why do female fantasize about cutting off penis?
She bent over him, the knife raised high and screamed with all the strength she could muster; “Love is not enough!” With that, she brought the knife down to his heart, stabbing and thrusting in remorseless frenzy. She traced the tip of the blade to his groin and severed his limp penis.
Not defined by levels, classified by elevating heights.

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