Social Media Apocalypse
Filed Under: Short Stories
Date Created:07 Jun 2015
Last Modified:02 Oct 2018
Number of Views: 1392
The camera flashed. Chansa turned the phone around so that they could have a good look at the photo.
“Wow, baby! We look so fly!” Cindy shrilled in excitement, kissing him on the forehead.
“Yeah, we do,” he said pulling her closer to him. Her bare cleavage wiped across his cheek. Excitement sliced through him. His eyes fell on her rosy, fleshy lips and he felt like kissing her. He slowly leaned in, his lips pouting.
“Baby, we got to post this to Facebook!” she said jumping and up and down. It didn’t hurt. Her buttocks felt like two large cushions on his laps.
“Yeah, sure,” he said in disinterest. He only wanted to kiss her.
“It’s done,” she said, tossing the phone aside onto the seat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he found his nose buried in her cleavage.
‘If this isn’t heaven,’ he thought to himself, ‘then I don’t want to go to heaven.’
Jennifer’s heart was beating so fast she felt as if it was going to explode. Her whole body suddenly ran hot and she felt like stripping off all her clothes. She had never felt like that before in her life. And she knew she wasn’t supposed to feel that way.
“I am so over him,” she said to herself as she stared at the photo of Chansa and Cindy on her phone. “I know I am so freaking over him. But why do I feel this way?”
It was over a year since she and Chansa had broken up. She had moved on and found a boyfriend. She had forgotten all about him—or so she thought. But today, when she saw the photo of him and his new girl friend on Facebook, she swelled with jealousy. He looked so happy; and his new girlfriend, Cindy, was way hotter than her. She bit her lip and fought to keep the tears back. But when she closed her eyes, the tears splattered out of her eyes.
Her grip around her phone loosened and it fell to the floor with a clatter. She let go of all constraint and began to weep.
Andrew opened his laptop and logged into Facebook . It was his daily ritual. It was what he did every morning to catch up on the latest news and also find out what his friends were up to. He was more of an observer really and did not feel compelled to like or comment on his friends’ posts.
His heart skipped a beat when his eyes fell upon the photo of Cindy, his ex girlfriend, with her new found boyfriend, Chansa.
“Huh,” he scoffed. “So this is the douche she has replaced me with. Boy is he ugly!”
But he wasn’t ugly and he knew it. He found himself staring intensely at Cindy’s cleavage. She was wearing a low top that exposed the top part of her large breasts—breasts that had once belonged to him. And he couldn’t help noticing Chansa’s arm around her waist—a waist that he knew so well. Anger slowly began to fill him and he began to hyperventilate.
“This fool doesn’t deserve her,” he said in a heavy whisper. “She is too good for him. I wish he could drop dead right now so that she could return to me. Die fool! Die!”
Cynthia hated her friend, Cindy. Cindy seemed to have the best of everything, and everything seemed to go her way. Even when the worst thing happened to Cindy, things quickly spurn around for her. For example, about a year ago, Cindy broke up with her boyfriend, Andrew. She was devastated. She had loved that boy to the death and had vowed to marry him. She even wanted to kill herself; and Cynthia was right by her side, comforting her; telling her that all would be well and she would find the guy that she truly deserved. Being accustomed to heart breaks, Cynthia knew just how to comfort her. Though she herself was close to hopeless about finding her true love, she didn’t mind giving her friend false hopes.
But much to Cynthia’s chagrin, less than a month later, Cindy found a boyfriend. She had walked in on her and her new boyfriend, Chansa, making passionate love in her room.
It was three weeks into the end of year vacation from the Copperbelt University and Cindy and her boyfriend were all over Facebook, posting photos of each other in various stances of affection.
“Boasting,” Cynthia said, anger filling her. “Boasting yabupuba!”
She breathed in deeply. She wished she could be Cindy and have everything Cindy had. But she knew she couldn’t be Cindy. So she decided to wish something else.
‘I wish you could lose everything you love,’ she thought, staring hard at the photo of Cindy and her boyfriend on her phone. ‘I wish you could be as miserable as I am.’
Trevor was never content with whatever he had. He always wanted more. He had five girlfriends living in different parts of the country. They were beautiful girls who willingly gave him everything he wanted because he was very persuasive.
But his five girlfriends were not enough. Whenever he saw a beautiful woman, he wanted her all to himself. And he did not stop till he got her.
Today, he had laid his eyes on a very beautiful girl. Her name was Cindy. She was his Facebook friend. He wanted her all to himself. He did not care about the guy she was with in the photo; the guy who had his arm wrapped around her waist. He was going to do whatever it took to have her all to himself.
He took his phone and slumped onto his bed. His eyes on the photo of Cindy, he pushed his hand down his trousers, grabbed his manhood and began to masturbate; conjuring images of Cindy in his head.
Cindy’s aunt, Matilda, was into black magic. She had a deep seated hatred for her sister, Mwewa, Cindy’s mother. Mwewa had stolen her boyfriend. Mwewa had married the man she was supposed to marry.
She printed out the photo of Cindy and her boyfriend and snatched it out of the printer. She stared at it long and hard and gave an evil little chuckle.
“Now, Mwewa, you will feel the pain I felt when you took away what I love; because I am taking away what you love too.”
She dragged her swollen feet to her desk and sat down. She bent and opened a drawer, pulling out a little black bag. She opened the bag and pulled out a short, straight wire sharpened at one end. She placed the picture on the table and began to poke at the head of Cindy, making holes in it; and as she did so, she uttered words in an undertone.
Cindy woke up in Chansa’s bed. And she woke up with a splitting headache.
“Ouch!” she fell back onto the bed after failing to sit up.
“What’s the matter baby?” Chansa asked worriedly.
“I have a terrible headache,” she moaned.
“Can I get you some Panadol?”
“No, it won’t work. This headache is too much. It feels like a freaking migraine. “
“What to do?”
“Take me to the clinic. It might be malaria.”
He helped her get cleaned up and dress up. He walked her to his car and helped her in. She sat in the passenger seat, lying back, a wet cloth on her forehead.
“Hurry up!” she squealed. “It’s getting worse.”
“Okay baby,” he said. His hands were shaking terribly as he started the engine. He depressed the accelerator and the car sped out of the yard.
Five minutes away from the hospital, Cindy was literally screaming. “Baby, hurry! I am dying!”
“Okay, baby,” he said placing one hand on her forehead while holding the steering wheel steady with the other. “I am trying my best. This traffic is—”
He never completed the sentence. There was an enormous bang and the car curved inwards around them, snuffing out their lives in an instant.
Mwewa was inconsolable. Cindy was her only daughter. And now Cindy was dead. Her husband, Clement, stood by her side helplessly. His face was sopped in tears. He placed his hand on her shoulder but she whipped it off. Her loud cries where echoing throughout the hospital reception hall. Everyone was looking at her with looks of pity but they too had their own problems to contend with.
There was a large television set hanging on the wall in one corner of the hall. Clement walked towards it. The words ‘Breaking News’ were scrolling across the screen. Pictures of Chansa’s mangled car were being repeatedly shown.
‘This doesn’t help,’ he said to himself. A strong inclination to switch it off came over him, but as he drew his hand towards it, the telecaster’s voice came on and he froze.
“There was a fatal accident in Ndola town centre today when a car collided head on with a bus at a cross road. Seven people died instantly on the spot. Among the deceased are Chansa Bweupe and Cindy Mutale who were in the Toyota Vitz; Andrew Litaba, Cynthia Nyangwe, Trevor Mbewe, Jennifer Kabwe and Matilda Mutale who were in the bus which was headed to Libala.
“What caused the accident is unknown; but in a remarkable coincidence, all the dead happened to be friends on Facebook; and some are calling it a social media apocalypse.”
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