Confessions of a dead man 3

Good evening and happy weekend. I am saying a BIG SORRY for not posting this yesterday- I know a date is a date. No excuse is excuse enough actually, but I say SORRY all the same. 

Just in case you missed 1 and 2 of this story I have made provision here and here 



Image culled from Google


There was no girl in the new school that needed my money, so I had no replacement for Flora. No girl who depended on me every break time for food. All the girls there were from rich homes and even carried themselves with a particular air of independence. They were the ones who led the class in academics and in extra-curricular activities.  It was a different ball game in the new school.

Firstly I was intimidated that they were richer kids. Secondly because they were all obviously brilliant and no one depended on the other for class works and home works.

So I had to think of a way to score well in my school work because I was tired of changing schools, I didn’t know why my parents thought it was the schools that were not good. It was me- I was not the academically brilliant child. I was intelligent in another area of life. And this was how I discovered.

On my second week in the school, I had already made friends and I knew the characters of most pupils in my class. So I found my prey- Kike- she was a weakling, always bullied by other girls, despite the fact that she had a big stature; bigger than most of the girls who bullied her. She had an inferiority complex issue. Her parents were never around, due to this she was put in the boarding house; she was one of the few boarders the school had and there was this stigmatization of boarders by the other students. They were tagged the children whose parents wanted to do away with or simply, ‘The Unwanted Ones’.

Unfortunately for Kike, she also had a big stature and had breasts that were way bigger than Flora’s and the other girls’ in the class. She cried every day after one tease or the other from the girls in the class.

I was taller than most boys in the class, so I was duly given my respect. No one dared counter me on any issue. I decided to strike a deal with Kike- I would protect her and she would allow me touch her breasts. So I told her. I was shocked at her response; she was excited that I even talked to her at all, let alone that I thought she was fine enough to want to touch her.

For the next three weeks after then, Kike was always smiling; talking to anyone she wanted to talk to without hearing “You this unwanted girl” or “Big Momma”. No more girls laughing at her while whispering to one another.

Then one day, during one of our daily meetings at the back of the school building, she told me to hit her. I asked her why and she said it had been a while she cried and she was not feeling good about that. I told her I could not, though the thought excited me and I was already thinking of the angle I would hit her from. So she slapped me hard on my face, over and over, telling me to hit her. When I eventually did, it was from the angle I had been targeting; she staggered backwards very quickly and started crying. I felt so good.

That was when I knew that my happiness lied in the sorrow, tears and sadness of others. And that was how I started.

I know by now you are probably getting angry yourself, thinking what sort of person I was (for I know by now I must be dead- by hanging), but I can only advice you to preserve your anger for the worse things ahead.

The hitting got more and more exciting for me and more and more unbearable for her. I made sure though that I never hit her in the face so as not to raise any suspicions. At a time she started begging me to stop but that only got me more excited- at least she was the one that wanted to cry, I was just helping out. I dealt severe blows to her on weeks after my father came home for the weekend. He always complained about my very poor performance in school and how it seemed he was wasting money again.

One day, in the last week of the second term, before we went on a short holiday, I hit Kike more than usual, and one of the blows landed on the side of her neck- she screamed. I quickly covered her mouth and began threatening her to stop and not to ever tell anyone about our little secret even when she got home. She could only nod and nod, with tears streaming down her already red eyes freely. A bright idea jumped into my head then and I pinched her nostrils with my fingers and covered her mouth with the same hand while I held the back of her head with my other big hand. I wanted to show her what I could do to her if she ever mentioned anything to anyone. She tugged at my right hand that covered her mouth and nose with both her hands, shaking her head and stamping her feet. She tried to turn, twist, bend and jump but I was stronger than her.



Image culled from Google




Your comments count

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: