103 comments

Mystery


Her dark brown eyes seemed emptier than the dried-up lake that sat in the middle of the desert outside the dingy wooden windows, yet they were shining bright with panic and pain. A false religion was not the only thing hidden under her light grey scarf, but also a thousand knots of curls over raging red bruises. Two pairs of parched greyed lips parted at intervals, then were sealed shut by an invisible force seen only by her. She brought her scarred fingers to those lips forgetting there were no nails left to chew, then brought them down as silently as she could. She must have thought that maybe if she sat incredibly still, she would cease to exist from their eyes. She should have been careful what she wished for. Her heart had long left its rightful spot in her chest, and had migrated without consent to her head, pounding painfully with every rapid beat.



Her dark brown eyes darted across the room as the massive figure of a man conversed lowly with a pint-sized, paunchy quinquagenarian. Money seemed to be the forbidden conversation causing the dissonance that echoed through the tiny room. A price to pay - but for what? The room was void of anything, but three individuals and plastic seats that used to be white some aeons ago. A shamble of a house it was, held up by the crumbling structure of deep red mud, shielding the occupants from the harsh summer sun with a simple tin roof. Holes that were punched here and there in the roof by the rough weather let in rays of sunlight to shine light on the evil deed taking place. There truly is nothing hidden under the sun – what an irony.



Her dark brown eyes fixated themselves on the smaller man’s expensive black suede boots, but her unfortunately naΓ―ve mind made more calculations than it could have ever done if she was allowed to go to school. Their close proximity dared her to look up at his face, but even the greatest of fools knew such attempts were foolhardy, so she stuck with staring at his feet. Wise choice she made – heavens know that one glance at his unbelievably grotesque face would have sent her shrieking in terror or crying with laughter. If all things made by God is beautiful, then he was certainly not one of God’s creations. It wasn’t really impossible to gauge what exactly went horribly wrong with his making – if you couldn’t tell immediately from his swollen, bulbous pimples providing a striking contrast against his ashy white skin. His toothpick-like legs trembled from having to hold up his elephant-like midriff, causing pools of sweat to gather round his indescribably horrific face, and cascade down the rest of his body. Only Lucifer himself can create such a perfect disaster. A harsh truth that is – maybe Roald Dahl's The Twits effect? But of course, our poor little girl had no inkling of a clue. There were too much that consumed her thoughts.



Her dark brown eyes appeared a lighter shade of brown, for the golden sun lifted the sorrow that darkened them as the man pushed open the rickety wooden door that barred her from the world, in order to retrieve an item from his gleaming black Rolls Royce that was parked outside. Its exquisite sight provided a harsh contrast in comparison to its destitute surroundings. The airy scent of freedom was the only thing that refrained her from choking on the fumes wafting from the factories that surrounded the building as she set foot outside the house. Every ounce of her body begged her to run and relish in the freedom while she could. And run she did. The bounds of religion tore from her head, along with the sacred scarf, and fell gracefully behind her as she continued to run. Both men stood smiling as they watched her flee, with glints in both their eyes resembling tips of sharpened knives held under a brutal summer sun. Her scaly feet hissed every time it met the hot sand of the desert, with its only relief when they were lifted off the ground – however, that was the only part of her body complained. Her hair flew happily in the wind, parting way for all to see the wide grin that threatened to break her face from the severity.



Her dark brown eyes widened, as she came to a chilling realisation – she had nowhere else to go. The fact that the roads where not familiar in any sense to her was somewhat ridiculous, especially when considering the fact that she had lived in this part of Kuwait for almost three years. She was hit with a bout of directional dyslexia – not that she was even aware she had this condition. Even if she had been allowed to leave the four walls of the forbidden building before now her plight would have still been the same. The road to freedom suddenly morphed from a straight path to an Earth-sized labyrinth. Nowhere left to turn her hours of running skidded painfully to a stop. Cynical bursts of laughter that erupted from a youthful mouth sent a wave of panic across to all the creatures high and low, filling the atmosphere with a rapid frenzy of flapping wings and scuttling paws before it all died down to some peace and quiet. Madness? Perhaps not entirely, we all let out our frustration in laughter from time to time, don’t we? The cause of her frustration sat calmly in a gleaming black Rolls Royce behind her. The two men climbed out of the car and slammed it shut, their prodding eyes never leaving her. The shorter figure handed over a thick block of blood money concealed in an envelope to the larger form.



Her dark brown eyes filled with tears as the price was settled, and the deed paid. She found her feet and stumbled towards the smaller man, almost in acceptance, but was immediately met with a harsh slap. The pain sent more tears to her already well flowing eyes, yet not a sound could be heard from her. It was only then she noticed she was smack in the middle of a market square. The place wasn’t filled with people as such, as it wasn’t yet Market Day. Just a few odds and ends littering the scenery in forms of people selling various essentials to their few customers. Her eyes searched for anybody, anybody at all who was watching this robbery in broad daylight. They couldn’t have said they couldn’t see her. The luxury car parked in front of the stalls stood out like a sore thumb; it should have drawn attention from everyone in there. But the normalcy of this occurrence refrained anybody from acting out, it was like she didn’t exist. Like she was a stubborn goat, refusing to follow directions. Well, at least the goat got attention from onlookers. Her eyes desperately combed the crowd for one person to remind her that she existed. That she wasn’t the shell holding up the remains of a dead soul. I blinked as she met and held my gaze.



Her dark brown eyes held pleas of her last hope - me. I did the wise thing and tore my eyes away; a breath to the police and your death would be mysterious but instantaneous. Her silent screams reached the skeleton remains of my heart, which twisted and turned in their position in my chest, cutting of my breathing intermittently. I could only look up to the sky, to whatever God was watching down and pray she found a saviour from her traffickers, as that saviour was certainly not me.



Even as the world is suffering from a global pandemic, the numbers of human trafficking victims are still on the rise. While keeping safe, be vigilant. Human trafficking is real.Β 

July 22, 2020 15:17

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103 comments

03:43 Jul 27, 2020

Your story was so realistic. I loved the repetition of the dark brown eyes. Would you mind checking out my story "The secret of power"?

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Don't forget to like! Thanks! πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™Sure!

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Doubra Akika
12:15 Jul 26, 2020

Your writing style is so unique. I loved the descriptions and the pacing!!

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Thank you Doubra! πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™

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Kelechi Nwokoma
20:14 Jul 25, 2020

Wow. This is truly a beautiful story and the message hit deep. I love how you started each paragraph with "her dark brown eyes". It made me want to read on. The flow and energy of the story never fadedβ€” I like that. The way you also revealed the character slowly was also truly amazing. A totally interesting and engulfing story. Thank you for writing it.

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Thank you so much for your kind words Kelechi! Deeply appreciated! 😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘

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Kelechi Nwokoma
21:10 Jul 25, 2020

You're welcome. Could you please take a look at my recent story, Next in Line, and give me feedback? I'd really appreciate it.

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Of course!

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19:01 Jul 25, 2020

LOL, I did actually already read this! I enjoyed reading this and possibly the best I've ever read! (Dont tell anybody I said that :)) Lol, I really hope to read more of your stories too though!

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Your secret is safe with me! 🀐🀐🀐🀐🀐. Thank you! 😊 😊 😊 😊 😊

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Alexi Delavigne
14:12 Jul 25, 2020

Such a powerful story!

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Thank you! 😊😊😊

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D. Jaymz
04:21 Jul 25, 2020

Well done. πŸ‘ Your command of imagery through descriptive words is amazing. The hyperbole is brilliant. You created new ways of looking at things through your word selection. Your style is distinctive and your language sensual (using the senses). From a writer's point of view, It's not as important what you write about, but how you write it; how you craft the story. Saying this, there are many things that need attention, such as grammar, spelling (should be 'choking', not 'chocking'), and logic, but these are easily fixed with a few re...

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I amin tears! Thank you so much! This means a lot to me! πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™

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Hey Chidalu, At first, I did not completely understand the story, and I think that's what kept me hooked. It was very upsetting that the man/woman at the end was not able to help her; because they knew it would end in death. Also, I could clearly picture the whole story in my head, and that is a great skill to have. The way you had "Her dark brown eyes..." at the beginning of each paragraph, I feel that it added more depth to the story. Outstanding job. Keep writing and stay healthy, Brooke

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Dear Brooke... πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’– Love, Chidalu

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(This is the best that I can do for hearts) <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 I can't wait to read more of your strories!

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You can find keyboard emojis here: https://coolsymbol.com/emojis/emoji-for-copy-and-paste.html

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Shreshta Writer
00:25 Jun 01, 2021

WOAH! Awesome job on this story! It is amazing! If you have time, please check out my stories too!

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12:06 Apr 08, 2021

Amazing write up from my cousin. Your intro was topnotch as it captivates a reader to continue reading the content. I feel proud reading this Continue with the God work. Well done!

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06:31 Sep 21, 2020

Hey, Chidalu would you be kind to watch the first video it's on Harry potter. https://youtu.be/KxfnREWgN14 Sorry for asking your time, I would ready your story

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00:09 Sep 03, 2020

This is so beautifully written! Super creative

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Thank you!

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18:16 Aug 13, 2020

Descriptions, descriptions! Gosh you sound like someone who has studied every intricate detail of every everyday thing on earth and have the perfect verbs and adjectives for each of them! Wow! I really have a lot to learn haha. This was SO great Chidalu, Your descriptions especially made me feel what was happening from her point of view. Brilliant! (P.S. Could you also read my recent entries, 'Summer was warm' and 'Kaima'. Thanks! Is it also strange that I looked at your first name after reading this and translated it into English. Haha....

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THANKS MY FELLOW NIGERIAN!

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16:55 Aug 22, 2020

You're WELCOME!πŸ‡³πŸ‡¬

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Deborah Angevin
11:48 Aug 08, 2020

Wonderfully written descriptions... I enjoyed the repetition and pacing of the story! Would you mind checking my recent story out, "(Pink)y Promise"? Thank you :D

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Maya Reynolds
15:22 Aug 03, 2020

Very intense story! I loved how you started each paragraph with "Her dark brown eyes" to match the title. A very sad reality in the world, though. Great job writing it; keep up the good work!

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Thank you so much!

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Claire Tennant
01:43 Aug 01, 2020

A harsh reality in powerful words This story is an eye-opener, and though I expected to feel ill, or weep I was glued to the story, hoping she would be free. It puts our own little worries into perspective Thank you for sharing. If you have the time you are welcome to look at what I have done. As for this story, it is not one I am likely to forget in a hurry.

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Thank you so much for your kind words Claire! πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™β˜Ίβ˜Ίβ˜ΊπŸ™πŸ™β˜ΊπŸ™β˜ΊπŸ™β˜Ίβ˜ΊπŸ™

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Tammy Pieterson
18:58 Jul 29, 2020

Powerful choice of words, I could feel her desperation. Had me hooked till the end with this beautiful, but chilling read. Can't wait to read more from you

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Thank you Tammy! πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™ Deeply appreciate.

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Aly Amr
00:49 Jul 28, 2020

Wow! This is really something else. The word choice, the style..it's all perfect. Great job!

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Thank you! πŸ™ πŸ™ πŸ™ πŸ™ πŸ™

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Jonathan Blaauw
12:47 Jul 27, 2020

This is a really powerful story. Your descriptions bring it to life brilliantly, giving the men an almost monsterish feel. Which, of course, they are: human monsters. And the desperation of your character builds nicely. I also think the ending, while heartbreaking, is apt because that’s reality – bystanders seldom dare get involved, even when they see horrific things happening. I think that’s a big part of the reason things like human trafficking, child abuse etc are so prevalent in today’s society. And as shocking as it is, the pandemic ha...

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Thank you so much Jonathan! I thought of starting the story with the last two lines too, but the prompts says "don't reveal till the end". I really appreciate your comment. πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ŠπŸ˜Š

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A. S.
20:24 Jul 26, 2020

This story was simply beautiful! Your writing style is remarkable and I was able to see what was happening so clearly. The way you were able to tie into such a heavy topic and make it so relatable almost made me cry. If you could read my story and let me know what you think, that would be great!

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Thank you so much Addison! 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊 I will head over to your story right now!

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Barbara Burgess
14:59 Jul 26, 2020

I enjoyed your story very much. How you began each paragraph in the same way. The whole story was, in a way, poetic to me, for some reason. Maybe you write poetry. Maybe you could write a poem on the same lines. Well done.

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Thank you so much Barbara! πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™ If you like this one, you could also check out my second story. I would love for you to give me feedback on that one too! 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

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