The Burden
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Peninah came into my room and found me bleeding, a penknife in my left hand and tears on my cheek, she screamed and ran out calling for help. I had done it, again This novel revolves around a young man who finds himself in trouble and love triangle that leads not only to his downfall but also the loves of his life

The Burden Chapter 1 The Bar

"So, why did you leave her?" He asked, his bottle half full, burnt fingers and a big bulge on his right eye, he was staring at me questioningly, and as much as I tried to avoid his eyes, they still pried, as if telling me that there was no escape but, to tell the truth.

" I didn't leave her," I muttered

Then stared at the beautiful girls dancing half-naked at the bar stage, my mouth was watery and my eyes wide awake, even in the dimmed bar, I could still see their half-covered protruding breasts whose nipples were threatening to tear the piece of linen they call a bra, I could feel my blood warming and Mr. D rising to grace the occasion. For once, after a tiresome day, I was glad that my mind could live again, even if it was for a moment.

"Look here boy," I was awakened from my dream, one that I was about to dive in headfirst. "You haven't answered my question."

"Uhm..., can I first use the gents?" I asked uneasily, he just waved his hands and I left in a hurry, Mr. D. was in full swing and I had to calm him down before hell broke loose. anyway, it was dark, who cared.

Here I stood in front of the mirror, watching my reflection with admiration, my beards were growing the way I wanted, and now, my friends won't laugh at me.

I shrugged, washed my hands, and went back to the bar, I swore to enjoy myself here rather than answering stupid questions from strangers.

The bar was half full and almost all the front seats were occupied.

***

Forgive my bad manners, I haven't introduced this man who has been asking questions endlessly.

He goes by the name Mr. Barigo Matana aka The Fixer, My friend Wengstar had introduced him to me for some boy's business.

He was a giant of a man with a thick mustache, I have never seen him smile, leave alone laugh, I can count the number of times I've seen him sober but that's nothing worth remembering, I prefer him drunk.

This was the man who was my therapist, or Savior as Wengstar puts it.

***

I took my seat next to Matana, a beautiful dark-skinned girl was sitting on his lap holding a glass of tequila, she seemed happy and drowsy.

Matana was smoking a piece of Bongani Cigar and blowing off smoke into the air rudely.

"Hey boys, you're back"

I nodded.

"Do you want some fun?" he asked

Of course, I wanted some fun, I wanted to dance and touch breasts, I wanted to have a threesome if not a foursome, that was the fun I wanted, I wanted to taste all the petite girls dancing on the stage, after all, for only a few pennies, I'll be gladly enjoying my penis in their well-kept goodies.

"No, I'm okay." I bloated out

He kept quiet, the music was loud, the club was smoky and beautiful girls were roaming.

I poured some tequila in my glass and gulped it down my throat, I wanted to be so drunk that Matana wouldn't bother asking me stupid questions.

The night was young

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I thought I was waking up in the arms of Arthur, the man I loved. But as the morning light hit the Hamptons estate, the man buttoning his cuffs by the window turned around with eyes like chips of ice. It was Augustus Riddle, Arthur’s cruel younger brother, and I had just spent the night whispering confessions of love into the wrong man's ear. The night I thought was a beautiful beginning turned into a devastating nightmare. Instead of comfort, Gus treated me like a stain on his expensive carpet, scribbling a check for "services rendered" before shoving me into a dark service corridor to hide my existence from his brother. "How much does it cost to buy your silence?" He sneered, before leaving me barefoot in a torrential downpour while he drove away in a luxury Cadillac. Four years later, I am a struggling actress in Los Angeles, working double shifts as a barista just to keep the lights on. My life was finally stable until my roommate dragged me to a high-end dinner to meet her new "influential" boyfriend. The man sitting at the table, looking more arrogant and lethal than ever, was Augustus. He spent the entire night humiliating me, calling me a pathetic amateur and a social climber in front of my only friends. When I fled into the rain and collapsed on the sidewalk, skinning my knee until I bled, he watched from his car. He saw me clutching a plastic baggie containing the taped-together pieces of that four-year-old check—the only proof of my shame. He looked at me like roadkill, rolled up his window, and drove off into the dark. I couldn't understand why he was doing this. Why did he hate me enough to crush me, yet remember that I couldn't handle the smell of cigarette smoke? Why did he leave me bleeding in the street, only to send expensive medical supplies and coffee to my door the very next morning? "I'm moving out." I told my roommates, realizing that Gus Riddle didn't just want to destroy me; he wanted to haunt me. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out with eighty dollars to my name, finally ready to disappear into the city before he could burn the rest of my life to the ground.

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