written by David Anglin

Daily Creative Writing Practice - Hate In The Heart Consumes The Soul [Short Story]

Daily Creative Writing Practice - Hate In The Heart Consumes The Soul [Short Story]

My daily practice of bringing depth to simple sentences...

Hate In The Heart Consumes The Soul

He looked down at the now lifeless body of Michael. As his nose filled with the odour of when bowels empty for the final time. And from it, he came from under the spell of evil intent.
Though it brought him no relief as his mind was consumed by anguish. Anguish like none he'd ever felt before. like how a mother feels from hearing the frantic screams of her newborn. Or like how a father feels burying his firstborn. For Michael though, he'd now never have a chance of meeting his soon to arrive legacy. His vows of till death us part, becoming an early reality, and his beautiful bride, now, a beautiful widow.

He never wanted to see his friend like this. So lifeless. But he just hated how everything in Michael's world seemed to go so well. While his own world seemed to fuck up at every available opportunity. Everything he ever seemed to plan for would go pear-shaped. Like how he planned for wealth through investments. But lost all of his own and his mother's money betting on stock shares that had epically failed. While Michael's white teeth couldn't stop grinning as he talked on how he'd earned a small fortune investing with Microsoft.
Even when planning for kids it was never straightforward for him, as instead of gaining a potential for a wife, he gained an alcoholic abuser who's womb was barren to life. Unresponsive to his needs for a seed. His frustrations meeting her unrestrained hysterics in bloody battles of hand to hand combat. He'd tell Michael about his worsening situation, expecting him to agree with his verbal bashing of his woman. But Michael only gave harsh but truthful insights to what he'd seen "You've been attracting the crazies for a long time... maybe its time to look at yourself." His eye had twitched to this. Words of self-improvement lost to him, as secretly his blood boiled from his friend's words.

Michael gaining a beautiful wife in Michelle and a beautiful home for their seed. Did nothing to help quell the formations of a green-eyed monster that had slowly been growing. Bidding it's time for when it would be released to show its long fermenting head.

Sorrow replaced by resentment. Resentment replaced by fury and fury now replaced by anguish.

He lifted the limp body of his longtime friend into his arms. His blood soaked hands hugging to the coolness of his neck. The God-given spark of life now absent. All that remained was too hollow vessels. One vanquished of soul. One lost of soul.

All he wanted to do was prank Michael, give him a bit of a scare so that he could understand what he goes through and not always be on his bloody high horse. Let him know what it's like to constantly lose in life. What it's like when life constantly uses your ribs as a punching bag then has the audacity to piss on you as you lie sunken to the ground.

What hardship had he ever experienced? What had he ever been through? His thoughts turned toxic. What losing a father. Everyone loses a father. But what about when every waking moment of the day feels like a struggle against Everast. Where all you have as protection from the elements is a tub of vaseline, half-finished from life constantly using it on you.
He tried to calm himself but his mind was an explosion of thoughts. Of feelings. Though he knew none of it would ever be enough to explain exactly why he did what he'd done.

All he'd wanted to do was scare Michael to give up his prized Rolex. He knew it was wrong, would be considered badmind but he didn't care. He wanted to scare Michael so that he could know what it's like to lose something precious. Something you'd worked long hours for only for the fuckeries that we call as life to take from us within moments what it took a lifetime to achieve.

Why did he have to fight back! Why did he have to fight back? Why couldn't he just of given up the watch? It was only a watch. But no like always he had to fight me. He didn't even know it was me as I had the mask on. But like always he had to fight me. Prove as always that he can get one up on me.

He hugged the lifeless body of his friend harder. Remembering how the body when alive drew out a flick knife on him. He remembered how they had grappled for control, just like how they'd grappled in life to be better than each other. Always competing with one another. He remembered how usually it was Michael who came out as victorious. But not this time. No.
This time he'd come out on top. His senses warped by the noxious mix of hate and greed. He forgot that this was his friend. Not the enemy to be stopped at all costs.
Though it was too late as his mind had long since been corrupted. And under the spell of the green-eyed monster. He plunged the knife deep into flesh. Acting as a creator who had the right to take a soul. His best friends soul. He hugged the lifeless body harder as he remembered there last falling out and he Michael looking him squarely in the eyes and telling him that "hate in the heart consumes the soul."
As sirens drew near and his world flashed with the lights from brilliant blue he cried tears of pain as he now knew he'd allowed hate to consume his own putrid soul.



Jerry - A dark, gritty thought provoking look into our modern day crisis. Buy the ebook for just 99p by clicking here
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Credits
Photo by Dawn Armfield on Unsplash


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Words and Art. Art and words. My stories will make you laugh, will make you cry. Provoke anger, cause distress. But most importantly my tales will get you thinking in hopes of bringing around real change...?

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