It happened last night, the images of his white face haunted her. A night of guilty pleasure had taken an unexpected twist. She could remember it all.
His palm connected with her cheek, “If you shout, I will kill you,” he said. His eyes darkened from rage and lust, as he held up a knife so she could see it clearly.
“Please Uncle Ken, please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.
He watched her lips quiver. The fear evident in her eyes, he knew he was wrong but felt nothing in his conscience.
“I won’t hurt you as long as you keep quiet,” he said.
He tore her dress, using his palm to muffle her screams as he took her innocence. He stood and watched her writhe in pain, her legs stained with blood.
“If you tell anyone, I will take your last breath. Not just that, I will make sure I take it slowly,” he said with bloodshot eyes before leaving her room.
She lowered herself in the hot steaming bath tub. Her uncle, a trusted guardian, had taken her prized possession. Rage consumed her and she found strength in the weakest form.
A coy smile played on her lips as a picture formed in her mind’s eye. She stood up not bothering to throw on any clothes, went into the kitchen, and picked up her little toy. With menacing steps, she drew close to him and watched his eyelids flicker open. She smiled
“You stole from me, Uncle Ken; now it’s my turn to steal from you,” she said, her voice was calm.
In one swift move, she sliced his throat open and watched his blood splatter. He struggled to breathe as his life was stolen from him.
This story emerged as second runner-up in the 2017 edition of the JB Afenfia Flash Fiction Contest. Click here to read the story in 4th position.