Short Story

Posted: September 10th, 2013

Short Story

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Short Story

Thomas Milan always woke up in the morning feeling fresh and tranquil. Each new day, Thomas always woke up surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women, one on either side, their arms draped across his magnificent chest as if never wanting to let the Adonis go. After all, which sane woman, could let the one and only son of the richest man in the world, Fabiano Monte Glazlo, leave without gaining something from him? A simple autograph on the skins of these women was enough to sweep them away into the land of celebrities that was usually conceptualized by the aspect of fame. Indeed, every person wants fame, even the beggar on the street who puts placards with the words, “Jesus is coming” scribbled in an unkempt and hasty manner on his frail body desires fame.

Dwelling on the subject of fame, Milan was indeed popular. Stick with him and you would find yourself on the cover of The New York Times, Vogue and even The Source despite the magazine’s assertion that it only catered for African American talent. Standing at 6 feet, Milan was always the center of attraction in his parochial school. The girls adored him, the teachers praised him, but not for his academic excellence and the boys? They always hated him but Milan always told them in his heavy Italian accent, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game”. At the age of 22, Milan was living the life most youth dreamt of: fast cars, sexual escapades and wealth. Anything that Milan wanted, he always got it at the snap of his finger. Be it girls, friends, clothes: everything circled on the palm of his hand.

The young Adonis always took advantage of women since he knew that girls would always stoop low whenever he asks them for a one-night stand. His father, while surrounded by a bevy of excellent foreign prostitutes, always berated him for bringing different girls to home each night warning him of the dreaded HIV virus. To Milan, living life on the edge was what God intended for people like him, people born with a silver spoon in their mouth. However, things were not going to be that same after Milan, in his usual sex jaunts, brought home a rather peculiar girl he had always had his eyes on for a while. One night with Mary Ashley would change Milan’s life for eternity.

That night, the sky was covered by dark nimbus clouds that were ready to unleash a terror of stupefying rain, the thunder coupled with instantaneous lightning crackled with a mighty roar while the trees swayed violently from side to side as the leaves pulled out from their branches in protest as the wind carried them away from their branches. Milan and Mary hastily hopped out of the Aston Martin Glazlo had bought for him on his twentieth birthday and scoured hurriedly across the bronze brazen steps of the house. The minute they entered the majestic house reminiscent of an English castle, Milan called out for his father, but there was no response. “Nina.., Jaffrey, Sawyer!”, Milan’s tenor voice echoed in the house as he called out for his chaperones but they were not in the house. “It seems they have already left,” said Milan as he lustily gazed at Mary as she dried off her black gothic hair.

Together, they hurried up the stairs taking off their clothes one by one while kissing. As soon as they entered Milan’s master bedroom, which was the size of a bungalow, Milan jumped on his bed, naked and jittery as a school kid about to be given candy, all sprawled out and ready to have a passionate night. Ashley smiled and then turned, closed the door under lock and key and advanced slowly towards Milan taking off her clothes one by one and as soon as she jumped on the bed, a knife dug into Milan’s chest. The element of surprise was upon the young man, he was motionless, his eyes popped out, it was as if he was not feeling the pain of the cold hard steel in his heart. “Why Ash, why?”, Milan slowly asked as he peered at the hand that wielded the blade.

There was no mistaking it: it was Mary’s hand; sweet, funny and beautiful Mary’s hand. “Remember me lover boy? The girl you raped and dumped in a garbage bin!” Sweet and warm Mary was now Dark, twisted and furious Ashley. “B…But, I th…thought y..y..ou  d..i..ed?” Milan retorted in difficulty as the blood hastily seeped out of his chest. “I knew you’d say that, but two years of plastic surgery surely did a lot!”, Ashley replied bearing a malevolent smile across a rosy and beautiful visage. “Karma did a number on you this time! You cannot go around messing with innocent people’s lives just because you have a little bit of money and expect everything to be jolly as usual. Payback!” Ashley screamed as she drove the blade further in Milan’s chest.

“Bye handsome, greet the Devil for me!” Ashley said as she kissed him on the cheek and walked out of the white tiled room. Milan did not understand what had happened. What was more astonishing was the fact that he did not feel any pain. All of a sudden, cold icy water splattered across his face. “What in heaven’s name is wrong with you?! You were screaming at the top of your lungs!” his father said as he stepped out of his room. “Get dressed, we are late!” his father’s voice echoed as he descended the stairs. Milan was dumbfounded, a few minutes past; he had a knife stuck in his chest. Immediately he gazed at his chest only to find nothing like that. Sighing with relief, he woke up, said a prayer, which he never did, and woke up hurriedly ready to go to the annual school meeting. “It was just a dream, just a dream.” Milan thought as he went into the bathroom.