Cheap story
This week, I would like to share to you guys a story which I would consider really cheap. This is probably the kind of story that you would find in those cheap and widely distributed ghost and aswang magazines. Well, enough talk, and check it out for yourselves.
THE ITCH
Giselle opened her mouth wide in front of the mirror. She thought she needed to see the dentist; she had two new cavities – the kind that you get with heavy smoking. She also noticed that the inner surfaces of her teeth looked like unwashed khaki shorts. She had to go to the dentist soon and have her teeth cleaned. That wasn't the reason why Giselle decided to look into her mouth though. These past few days she noticed a scratchy, annoying itch somewhere in her throat. She could not pinpoint where the itch was exactly, though.
'Aaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaah!' Giselle muttered in front of the mirror, trying to let more light into her mouth to see beyond her teeth, her tongue, to her tonsils. There was nothing there. It was probably just a slight irritation that nicotine build-up had caused. It was nothing.
Giselle wanted everything to be perfect, including her teeth. So, although she was a heavy smoker, her pearly whites shown like the silvery moon on a clear evening. She had regular visits to the dentist for cosmetic reasons. She didn't mind the dirty inner surfaces or the invisible cavities; all she cared about was that when she smiled, people would see a perfect set of teeth – even if they were all implants.
Stephanie just came in from Masbate. She was new in the magazine business. She took care of receiving ads from the various commercial sponsors of the magazine. She was a quiet, unassuming, promdi.
'You are an idiot, Stephanie! Didn't you notice that the ad of Ugamo Shirts was lopsided during the past issue? What kind of eyes do you have? Are you cock-eyed? You know I can fire you, you are still on probation, so, do your job well! Or else…Uhuh…uhuh…Ahem…'
'I'm sorry, Ma'am Giselle, it won't happen again,' replied the well-mannered, timid promdi.
Giselle has had a thing for Stephanie in the past. She usually noticed the slight imperfections and mistakes of her new employee.
'Is your throat, all right, Ma'am Giselle?' asked Stephanie one afternoon with a wicked sneer, on her face.
'My throat is no concern of yours; ahem..uhuh…uhuh…now, get back to work you lazy whore!'
Giselle noticed the itch in her throat growing worse; worse still that morning after her bitching with Stephanie.
Giselle opened her mouth wide, for the nth time this morning. The itch was getting worse. She wanted to scratch it from the outside but doing so did not give her any relief.
'Aaaaaaah….aaaaaaaaah….;' Giselle repeated to herself while gazing straight into her throat. 'Maybe I need to see a doctor…' she thought. She opened her mouth wider and noticed two white hair-fine fibers sticking out of her throat. She looked again, and there they still were; two fibers sticking out. The fibers looked like fishing line, but finer, and…and…they seemed to be moving.
'Aaaaaaa…aaaaaaah….' Giselle strained while reaching for a pair of tweezers. She opened her mouth wider wedging the open claws of the tweezers far enough to get hold of one of the fibers. The fiber seemed to elude the tweezer, as if it had a mind of its own. The other fiber moved independently of the other. Finally, she managed to get hold of the fiber with her tweezer, then she pulled, gently at first. She felt the itch in her throat worsen; then she tugged again, closing the tweezer's claws even more. She gagged.
'Uhuh…uhuh…' she pulled, and slowly, something emerged. Her eyes widened as blood started to pour out of her throat. She pulled again. She now saw where the fibers were attached to – a small head, a small, white, cockroach head. She was pulling on the feelers. She pulled harder. The creature began to struggle free amid the blood. She tugged and the cockroach's body emerged, wet with blood. The insect started to move in her mouth until it was finally free. She dropped the cockroach into the sink and it scampered rapidly into the drain. She bent down and threw up more blood. She felt all right. She left for the office.
'Is your throat all right, Ma'am?' Stephanie asked.
Giselle looked at Stephanie and bolted straight to her office. Then, there was the itch once again…a scratchy, irritating itch in her throat.
Stephanie always got into her nerves – or her throat maybe.
There you go guys!
Be rational; be insane…every once in a while! TTFN!
I love you all! Byers!