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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Fairy Tales & Fantasy
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 07/20/2013
NOT MY MOM
Born 1986, M, from Nairobi, KenyaThe evening sun set in the western horizon painting the sky orange… The beautiful scenery over Lake Victoria would make one kill to have a glance. The hens were moving hither and thither towards their already dark shelters, as wise owls hooted perhaps to welcome the lonely night. Everything was as quiet as a shadow with the exception of the crying babies for the reasons best known to their mothers. It was my turn as we commonly said to prepare the family supper. Mother was already at home but father was not yet. As I was busy in the kitchen, a car’s hoot was heard from the gate. It suddenly hit my mind that dad was finally home. I left everything and quickly made towards the gate. After ushering him in, he lovingly curdle-hugged with mother and truly it was an indication of a happy family.
After a while, everything was set and we all took our palatable supper that left us longing for more. I soon retired to bed after kissing dad and mom goodnight. How long I had slept, I couldn't tell, but what I am sure of, was a shrill, ear-piercing cry at my mother’s bedroom. Alarmed, I hastily jerked out of my comfy bed leaving my blankets settling down chaotically. When I heard the bawl again, I smelt a rat. Something terribly terrible was amiss. I had to do something really fast for help delayed is surely help denied. I suddenly reached for my machete at the corner of my bedroom. I quickly but cautiously opened the door and looked around, sure not to be taken by surprise for surprise beats even the initiated ones. No one was around and I made for my mother’s bedroom’s door.
I almost broke it down when a sudden wave of bright idea struck my mind. I instantaneously made up my mind to sneak a quick look through the key-hole to equip myself with the phenomenon. What I saw almost made my heart pull out of my skinny chest cavity. My hair stood stalk still as frigid sweat trickled down my rosy cheeks and hairy armpits. I quickly opened the door as I called out my mother’s name. What met my sight was a pool of blood that profusely oozed out of her body. I screamed loud enough to awaken the dead for I became scared out of my wits. Her loving face painfully rested on the bed as her body carelessly fell onto the chilly floor. Her eyes shed tears when she looked at me perhaps pleading for help. I could clearly tell she was in sheer pain.
An utter pain abruptly pierced into my lonely and helpless heart. And in the process I dropped the machete I had on the floor awkwardly. It fell right on the blood splashing a puddle of it onto my desperate body drenching my clothes in it. As helpless as an infant and as blameless as a snow, I let out a stentorian scream that pierced through the quiet night like hot knife through butter.
I tried to uplift my mother for some first aid, but alas! I heard a sudden unfamiliar coarse voice.
"You mean someone is still alive in here?”
This scared me stiff and I gradually dropped mom down as my heart pounded loudly like millet in a mortar. On turning around, I almost passed out and already counted myself a dead meat. Four gigantic men paraded like amateur soldiers in a recruit parade. They had pistols and each one of them had a sharp knife on the ready. They were very scary as some had bulging noses with eyes which seemed to have popped out of their sockets.
“You must be very lucky kid,” said a gigantic man who had long unkempt hair that seemed to be the park for lice. He had a round head with a thick mustache while his tummy hung in between his legs. He brutally gave me a slap that jolted me back to reality and made me believe what I was experiencing was actually real and not fiction movies I used to watch. I fell onto the pool of my own mother’s blood with a thud. But what had I done to annoy the gods to let me experience that torture? As if that wasn't enough he seized my neck and pulled me up as though I were a paper weight. I promptly made good use of my legs and gave him a physically powerful kick between his legs. He threw me down as he screamed loudly overwhelmed with the pain. Little did I know I was moving from the frying pan into the fire when one of them roughly pointed a gun right on my head.
No sooner had I begged for mercy than familiar voices shouted my name, violently banging my bedroom door. When they forced themselves in, I was lying down on the floor soaked to the skin with sweat. Father and mother had heard me screaming in the middle of the cold night. Mother hugged me passionately and consoled me that it was just a dream and will never come true. I gently touched her face just to confirm she was real. I heaved a sigh of relief and recapitulated quick prayers before I settled for the rest of the night.
NOT MY MOM(Jason Otieno)
The evening sun set in the western horizon painting the sky orange… The beautiful scenery over Lake Victoria would make one kill to have a glance. The hens were moving hither and thither towards their already dark shelters, as wise owls hooted perhaps to welcome the lonely night. Everything was as quiet as a shadow with the exception of the crying babies for the reasons best known to their mothers. It was my turn as we commonly said to prepare the family supper. Mother was already at home but father was not yet. As I was busy in the kitchen, a car’s hoot was heard from the gate. It suddenly hit my mind that dad was finally home. I left everything and quickly made towards the gate. After ushering him in, he lovingly curdle-hugged with mother and truly it was an indication of a happy family.
After a while, everything was set and we all took our palatable supper that left us longing for more. I soon retired to bed after kissing dad and mom goodnight. How long I had slept, I couldn't tell, but what I am sure of, was a shrill, ear-piercing cry at my mother’s bedroom. Alarmed, I hastily jerked out of my comfy bed leaving my blankets settling down chaotically. When I heard the bawl again, I smelt a rat. Something terribly terrible was amiss. I had to do something really fast for help delayed is surely help denied. I suddenly reached for my machete at the corner of my bedroom. I quickly but cautiously opened the door and looked around, sure not to be taken by surprise for surprise beats even the initiated ones. No one was around and I made for my mother’s bedroom’s door.
I almost broke it down when a sudden wave of bright idea struck my mind. I instantaneously made up my mind to sneak a quick look through the key-hole to equip myself with the phenomenon. What I saw almost made my heart pull out of my skinny chest cavity. My hair stood stalk still as frigid sweat trickled down my rosy cheeks and hairy armpits. I quickly opened the door as I called out my mother’s name. What met my sight was a pool of blood that profusely oozed out of her body. I screamed loud enough to awaken the dead for I became scared out of my wits. Her loving face painfully rested on the bed as her body carelessly fell onto the chilly floor. Her eyes shed tears when she looked at me perhaps pleading for help. I could clearly tell she was in sheer pain.
An utter pain abruptly pierced into my lonely and helpless heart. And in the process I dropped the machete I had on the floor awkwardly. It fell right on the blood splashing a puddle of it onto my desperate body drenching my clothes in it. As helpless as an infant and as blameless as a snow, I let out a stentorian scream that pierced through the quiet night like hot knife through butter.
I tried to uplift my mother for some first aid, but alas! I heard a sudden unfamiliar coarse voice.
"You mean someone is still alive in here?”
This scared me stiff and I gradually dropped mom down as my heart pounded loudly like millet in a mortar. On turning around, I almost passed out and already counted myself a dead meat. Four gigantic men paraded like amateur soldiers in a recruit parade. They had pistols and each one of them had a sharp knife on the ready. They were very scary as some had bulging noses with eyes which seemed to have popped out of their sockets.
“You must be very lucky kid,” said a gigantic man who had long unkempt hair that seemed to be the park for lice. He had a round head with a thick mustache while his tummy hung in between his legs. He brutally gave me a slap that jolted me back to reality and made me believe what I was experiencing was actually real and not fiction movies I used to watch. I fell onto the pool of my own mother’s blood with a thud. But what had I done to annoy the gods to let me experience that torture? As if that wasn't enough he seized my neck and pulled me up as though I were a paper weight. I promptly made good use of my legs and gave him a physically powerful kick between his legs. He threw me down as he screamed loudly overwhelmed with the pain. Little did I know I was moving from the frying pan into the fire when one of them roughly pointed a gun right on my head.
No sooner had I begged for mercy than familiar voices shouted my name, violently banging my bedroom door. When they forced themselves in, I was lying down on the floor soaked to the skin with sweat. Father and mother had heard me screaming in the middle of the cold night. Mother hugged me passionately and consoled me that it was just a dream and will never come true. I gently touched her face just to confirm she was real. I heaved a sigh of relief and recapitulated quick prayers before I settled for the rest of the night.
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