The Stones in her Heart

She smiled, turned and left, her heart racing, her palms sweating as she waited for the call.

It never came. No one would ever question her actions.

When, 6 months after the relationship began, she noticed his odd new habit of taking his phone to the toilet, her gut told her something was off, but she chose to ignore it.
After a while, he stopped doing that and completely out of the blue, apologized to her and said he would try harder.
In her heart, she stored the first stone.

A month later she had been drowsy from a hard day at work, dozing off on the couch when suddenly he sprang to his feet and said he had to go out because his friend called and there was an emergency.
“But your phone didn’t ring, sweets” she said, apropos of nothing. His eyes darted away and back to her face, like smooth pebbles over mud. In that instant, she knew he was lying as her gut rolled over.
“Erm, it did but eh…you know you were so sleepy”, he blustered as he grabbed his keys and practically ran out.

She didn’t see him until the next night after work. She said nothing about his friend’s impromptu “emergency”.
In her heart, she placed a second stone next to the first.

By the time they had been together a year, she knew of 3 other women he was seeing regularly as well. In a blazing rage, she confronted him about them, and asked if her wanted to break up so she wouldn’t stand in his way. He knelt before her, supplication in every gesture as he promised to do better by her, to change his ways and focus on their relationship. She never confronted him, or asked him about the other women again.

But she was storing her stones.

She could see them sometimes in the succeeding months, those stones in her heart. They were slowly becoming a wall to seal off her love for him from herself. With each new indiscretion he committed, she built it. Each stone had a name, even though he’d given her none. She christened them herself, in her pain and sorrow. The Girl From Work, The Woman Who Sent the Nude Selfie, The School Friend he Claimed was Stalking Him…

At the end of their second year, he had gotten them a dinner reservation, and she thought he would propose. When dessert came, he told her he had met someone else, and that he didn’t want to be with her anymore. She stared into her lime and mango sorbet and said nothing. Her wall was so high now that she felt nothing, simply watched the words come out of his mouth. And then, in that numbness, she heard a click in her head and decided to end his life. So she made all the right noises, cried a little and asked him to take her home. Perhaps he felt sorry for her, for as they got into bed, he held her close, kissing her lips and stroking her throat. She was drifting off to sleep when she felt him slide into her.

How peculiar to lie here and not feel anything, she thought. And to think that his touch used to inflame me!
The next morning, a Saturday, she got him breakfast as always. She had a routine for this, a pattern that comforted her. Today she went through the motions calmly, almost zombie-like. She was calm when she locked the door, shut the windows and put on his Afro-beat music. The neighbours knew he listened to loud music on Saturday mornings as he did his chores. She was calm when the tomatoes splattered oil on her arm, when the tray was set, when she made his coffee and poured the contents of a bottle of insecticide in his egg stew and stirred, humming softly to herself.

She was calm as she watched him eat every bite of his delicious last meal, watching the yam go in his mouth and understanding that even his irritating chewing was another stone. She was calm when he threw up and screamed in pain, clutching his stomach.

He died noisily, spasming on the floor like a beached whale. She smelled his bowels as they evacuated, but still she was calm. How like him to be so full of shit! she thought. When he finally stopped twitching, she washed the dishes, took a shower and put all her things in the boot of her car. It took 4 trips, but she managed, working like an automaton. Only then did she allow herself to feel something other than that deathly calm. She could feel the strength and impenetrability of that wall, and wondered if she mightn’t go and get some frozen yogurt today, as a special treat to herself.

The idea cheered her up as she smiled, turned and left.



12 thoughts on “The Stones in her Heart” by hotchocolate (@hotchocolate)

  1. M-e-e-n! If girls like this exist outside stories, then we better have an All Men Colony as the safest place on planet Earth. HotChocolate, despite your sweet name, you scared the boys, I mean, the main boys. Hian, na wetin kwa, e reach so?!!! I don do finish no suppose equal your own don finish na.

  2. @Musemussang, mental illness is a lot more common in our society than we think. We just like to pretend it doesn’t exist.

    1. Madness ke?! Which guy go think of ‘psycho’ when he sees a fine, hot, well dressed chick he wan date. Tufiakwa, God forbid bad thing o. The real guy is scared altready by this story because there’s a truth worth considering in it. Guys, beware of psycho babes and when you are stuck with one, start saying your last prayers. It’s better to be prepared than to be caught unawares …

      1. @hotchocolate @musemussang. It very hard to tell a psycho girl from looks. In my comment below I mentioned it, she basically blackmailed into a relationship by threatening suicide. It was very tough to deal with.
        *singing you saved me by R Kelly*

  3. Great story, great writing.

    I know a girl like this. Paranoid after seeing a game character on my xbox, glad to be rid to say the least…

  4. good story. but I think that for a girl who has never killed before, though it was not said in the story, the sight of a dying human should freak her out. ….just saying. but its a good piece.

  5. Nice one

    Keep writing. *smiles*

  6. Nice story, I read every bit of it without skipping a line.
    Keep writing

  7. I was taken aback by the ending of this story, fearsome but interesting anyways! i enjoyed it!

  8. wow! she silently carried out the actions unnoticed. can this actually happen for real?

  9. Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read and leave a comment. I would like to stress that this story is completely fictional, it was done in response to a request for flash fiction submissions on another site. I do not know if such a situation can happen, I can only know what comes out of my own brain. I have always found that within the flexible boundaries of the fiction genre, I find lots of wiggle room to explore all kinds of “unlikely” ideas.
    I do not have a degree in human psychology, so I can’t say with any confidence how another person would react to seeing someone die in their presence. Human beings are not cookie cutters; we can’t all be uniform. It was a flash challenge, and I enjoyed writing this story as I went along, which I don’t often do.

  10. This was well written. Keep writing.

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