Perfectly Broken

<blockquote>This is a collection of short stories. Do enjoy. </blockquote><h3>The Push</h3> She packed her bag. He watched silently. She looked at him. He looked at her. She huffed silently, half-wishing he would stop her, but her mind had already been made. She would leave before he learned she wasn’t “the one”.Every time he complimented her, she heard a mocking noise. Every time he smiled at her, she saw a sneer. Every time they laughed together, she imagined he was laughing at her. The monster would whisper thoughts and sew seeds of doubt, and her head would harvest words of mistrust.He was the stuff of every woman’s dreams. He was the paragon of a loving partner. He adored her and she, him. But the quiet was unsettling. The lack of fire and hot fiery stones being thrown about threw her off. The monster inside her had nothing to feed on, nothing to munch off, and nothing to chew out.And so, she packed a bag, called a cab and left. <h3>The Burn</h3>No one understood why. No one could fathom it. How could such a bright young man crash and burn?He had worked all night, slaving away like a biblical Egyptian was holding a whip over him. Writing and rewriting the report. The monster had whispered, of course, sewing stitches on the edges of his mind. But he continued to write the report religiously.He stared at the finished report, his big break. The thing that would finally lift him above his peers. The time was 11:30 pm.He stared at the empty screen, satisfied. It was 12 a.m. There was no room for redemption anymore. He would be fired.He knew that nothing good could come of his success. He didn’t want it, he rather revelled in the ruin. It was perfect. This moment, this time, this juncture.Another job gone, another win for the monster. <h3>The Ghost</h3>There was always an excuse: busy, tired, or not in the mood. She cancelled plans, left invitations on read, and didn’t respond to messages. She was the princess of pushing people away. When they’d open up and be vulnerable, she’d air them. Even when they didn’t pressure her or expect her to be perfect, she never let them get close.She loved her friends, truly. But each time one got too close, she felt this urge to run—like most Christians love God but always run from him when he wants to get close.The silence seemed better because there was no one to disappoint but herself.Eventually, the messages stopped coming. The invitations stopped coming. The plans stopped including her. And she was left wondering why no one ever stuck around.

Other insights from Ayo

Referral Earning

Points-to-Coupons