Sabathile Sibiya
2 Published Stories
Sabathile Sibiya's Books and Stories
The Barrier On The Eye
Young Adult I refused granted verbally that I cannot. He snapped.
“Eat it now!”
He threw the book in the grass as it lay openly flat. I'm watching all of them; looked so eager for me to slip and bent over to the green, lots of thoughts kept running in my head, and I knew with one touch of that book I'll be crossing over a thin line of crossfire, an agreement of letting them do as they please.
“I said, eat the damn book you moron face!”
He approached me with lividness. Slowly I bent over to the grass grip the book toss over the cover and thoroughly glanced at every detail so I can never forget this moment. Grade eleven premium English book with light green font written in bold white words.
My hands trembled although I touched the texture, flipped it over, and torn the first page. Sweats coursed my hands, folded it so it can fit in my mouth, shove it, and started chewing it as it became smaller and weaker than when I had to swallow it, eyes turned watery trying to thrust it down my throat.
They demanded that I should not put up a fake show and eat them. It felt like a rock was wedged between my throat, I choked bent over as I suffocated, and I started coughing.
They all laughed, laughed hilariously, pointing with their fingers at me, to them, it was all a show. Again, they forced me to swallow more than they demanded. I could not take it as I wanted to get away, but they would not let me, they grabbed me by my uniform; violently swore to make my life miserable. Pushed me over the grass, my fingers swayed and got a cut
"Ouch!" I lifted my hand, and it ached from a thorn pricking my skin. For that, they did not care, granted I should swallow another one, or they will shove it in my mouth if I don't do it myself. I saw there was no use begging, accept doing what I should, You might like
Invisible To Her Bully
Dea B Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible.
Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully.
During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin.
As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah.
Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies?
Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside. The Ninety-Ninth Goodbye
Tango The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave.
At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety.
As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers.
"Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in.
That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission.
Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away. The Ex-Wife's Fiery Reckoning
Gavin The last thing I remembered was the searing heat, a pain so absolute it burned away thought.
Mark' s face floated above me, twisted not with concern but with a cold, triumphant sneer.
Chloe was beside him, her arm linked through his, her expression a perfect mirror of his contempt.
"Thanks to you, I had the perfect seed money," Mark' s voice echoed, cold and venomous. "You' re useless now. Don' t stand in the way of my and Chloe' s empire!"
Then came the push, and I fell, screaming, into the scalding, liquid fire.
My world exploded into white-hot agony.
When I woke, I was on the floor of my burning restaurant, The Gilded Spoon. The roaring flames, the choking smoke-it was all devastatingly familiar, a nightmare I' d already lived.
But this time, I heard voices from the back storeroom.
"Mark! Just make sure the accelerant cans are hidden properly! The firefighters will be here any second!" It was Chloe, panicked.
"I know what I' m doing, Chloe!" Mark shot back. "The insurance report will show faulty wiring. Ava will devastatingly run right into my arms, and we' ll be on our way to New York with her life savings and that fat bank loan."
Their words hit me like a physical blow. The casual cruelty, the meticulous planning-I wasn't just a casualty; I was a key ingredient in their recipe for success.
The naive, trusting Ava had been boiled away in that vat of oil in a future I had already lived.
Now, a singular purpose ignited within me, colder and sharper than any ice.
They thought they were writing my tragedy. They had no idea I was about to rewrite theirs.
I wouldn't just survive this time. I would make them burn in the very fire they had set for me. My Mother, The Monster
Eydie Pfefferle I gasped awake, my throat burning.
Downstairs, Mom shrieked at Dad about 'Emily' again, their usual symphony of bitterness.
I was used to it, used to being Mom' s property, something she controlled, ever since she trapped Dad with a fake pregnancy years ago.
She never forgave him Emily, and she never forgave me for being his daughter.
But this morning, a chilling memory, vivid as real life, clung to me: peanuts, my throat closing, Mom just watching.
A taste of death.
It wasn't a dream.
It was a premonition, my own death at her hands, if I didn't act.
The thought alone sent shivers down my spine.
This wasn't just a difficult mother; I saw her clearly for the first time: a monster.
My heart hammered, a desperate drumbeat, as every sugary word, every controlling glance, every public humiliation she inflicted felt like a suffocating vice.
Dad, weak and defeated, could only offer whispered apologies, seeing my suffering but perpetually helpless.
I wouldn't be her victim anymore.
I wouldn't end up on that kitchen floor, struggling for breath while she calmly watched.
Not this time.
My resolve hardened into something cold and sharp, a desperate decision: I had to get out, and I had to take Dad with me.