Write-ups & true life

MR AND MRS

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….their marriage was a crazy one.
they were crazy in love
No one understood them or their love.
So they lived secluded.
And so when the realtor showed them the house on Colton close,
the only house lined by many trees, they fell in love.
It was perfect for their kind of love, Mr Wilkinson smiled.
He doesn’t do that often; smile.
They moved in.
Their love grew.
He came home today with calla lilies, she loved them. She could
relate to its long lonely green stem and the petal that doesn’t open
all the way. Like a brief phase of sunshine that caused her life to
bloom, but it was short lived, the petal of the calla Lilly told a story
she could relate to.
She knew what calla lilies meant. If he had come home with a
sunflower, it would have meant a vacation was coming up: must
likely to a sunny city where girls wore bikinis and guys wore shorts
and are bare chested.
If he had returned with pink roses, it would have meant just a show
of love. The red roses, they gave each other when they get rid of
any threat to their love.
Today, he came home with calla lilies, even though she loved
them, she knew what it meant.
“Who’s she?” Mrs Wilkinson asked.
“The new lady from HR at work”
“How long have you felt that way towards her?”
“2 months now. I wanted to be sure she was a threat before telling
you”
2 months ago was when she started suspecting he was drifting
away, like he was slipping through her fingers as she watched.
She asked him but he said he wasn’t sure.
“What is her name?”
“Amanda” he said.
“Well then, we’ll have Amanda for dinner one of this days”
“When do you say we do that?” he asked.
“When we are both ready.”
Mr Wilkinson had taken Amanda out to dinner a couple of times
before extending an invitation to come to his house for dinner.
He had gotten her a black dress to wear. She looked absolutely
stunning in the dress and Mr Wilkinson didn’t fail to mention that.
She looked like she fell out of a fashion magazine.
He drove her to the house and after dinner and a few glasses of
wine, Amanda found her way to the bedroom. She had stripped
down to her thong and bra as Mr Wilkinson directed when Mrs
Wilkinson walked in.
“What is going on here?” Amanda was tipsy.
“Oh I love that, never had a threesome with an older woman” she
said as she laughed.
“Calm down honey, this will be over soon” Mrs Wilkinson said as
she led her to the guest room.
Even though the walls were red, there was blood on the walls, on
the chairs and the bed. She tied her to a chair and gagged her.
“It will soon be over, but only if you don’t struggle” Mrs Wilkinson
whispered. It was hardly a whisper with the loud slow music.
“We danced to this same song on our wedding day in our living
room many years ago. Where we exchanged vows to never leave
each other, to always be there and always love. Then you came
along and fell for him, like the many other foolish girls your age,
your fate will always be same.”
As was the custom, Mr Wilkinson will sit downstairs and watch his
favourite TV shows while Mrs Wilkinson took care of the mess in
the guest room. She would do same if he had to clear out her
mess.
Slowly using a serrated knife, she redesigned her belly.
Amanda, gag in mouth pleaded for her life but Mrs Wilkinson
assured her if she stopped screaming she will make it happen
faster.
She chopped off her fingers and was bathed in her blood.
It was almost midnight and Amanda was already wishing for
death.
And with one move, Mrs Wilkinson sliced across her stomach and
Amanda watched in horror as her intestines gushed out amidst
Mrs Wilkinson’s roar of laughter.
As she laughed, she looked even older. It was an alien act, she
doesn’t laugh often, in fact this is the few times she laughs; when
she eliminates the threat to her love life, she laughs.
In seconds, Amanda lost consciousness. She had lost a lot of
blood and died moments later.
With a saw, she dismembered the body and carefully place them in
a tray.
She stood in the shower and meticulously washed off the blood
while enjoying every moment of it.
She wore a red dress, picked out her southern-Baptist kinda hat –
red, and wore her ruby woo lipstick.
Mr Wilkinson had set the table with red roses, the timer on the
oven went off and she sat across her husband and they devoured
the meat before them in total silence, they had to enjoy every bit of
this as it might take a while for another to fall prey.
“She tastes good” Mr Wilkinson broke the silence.
“I know.”
“Where are the fingers? You know they are my favourite” He said
while trying to crush a bone.
“They are preserved for tomorrow. Oh and I kept the recorder for
you at the bedside.” Mrs Wilkinson said with a smile.
This will revive their sex life she thought, a new recording from
Amanda’s screams.
“The old one was getting boring.”
“I know.” Mr Wilkinson said.
And as she looked at him, she caught a feeling. It was the same
she felt of him many years ago when the midwife put him in her
arms and said ‘it is a boy.

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Salahuddeen Abubakar
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Salahuddeen Abubakar

Nice update

Theresa Joseph
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Theresa Joseph

Ok