Happy Earl’s Thanksgiving!


This is another story that I wrote back in Singapore in Class 10.

Natasha could not believe what she was looking at.

            “Happy Earl’s Thanksgiving!”

The crimson red words with big fat droplets of blood surrounding it were staring right back at her from the computer screen in front of her. These words reminded Natasha of the incident so much that it sent waves of crippling fear down her spine. Natasha could feel goosebumps on her arms and she tried desperately to stop her trembling. She was sitting in her small cubicle office, visible to all her colleagues working in their similar cubicle office.

            “Earl. Please, stop this. I could not help it. I am so sorry,” Natasha whispered to herself as she bit her quivering fingernails. She remembered cowering back in the corner of the room, with her arms over her head to protect herself from the blows being dealt by the monster in front of her. Just remembering about it tormented her. She had thought that everything would be alright after the incident but instead her life had taken a sharp turn downhill.

            She could see things that people around her could not. She could hear noises no one else could. Once, at a birthday party at one of her friend’s house, Natasha freaked out completely when she thought she saw electrical wires dangling around the house, sparks spitting out of its end. After much consolation and reassurances from her friends, she realized that they were just party ropes used for celebrations.

Her friends and colleagues thought that Natasha was hallucinating after all that had happened to her but Natasha knew better. She knew it was much more than that. It was something extraordinary. It was supernatural. She knew that she was being haunted by a ghost.

            “Natasha? Natasha? Hello? Are you there?” the telephone receiver dangling on the cord spoke. Natasha had been talking with her best friend, Sandy, on the phone during work about the incident when she saw the words in her email sent by one of her close relatives and dropped the receiver accidentally in a state of shock.

            Trying to regain her composure, Natasha took a deep breath and picked up the telephone receiver. “Sandy, please help me. I don’t think I can take this anymore. His spirit is still haunting me,” Natasha whispered as tears started to well up in her eyes.

            “Look here, Natasha. There is no spirit haunting you. You are just hallucinating. You did nothing wrong. Earl deserved it. He had it coming all along. There’s nothing you can do about it. And please do not do anything reckless.” Sandy pleaded with Natasha but she was not listening anymore. Something had crossed her mind. Something that would save her from this mental torment.

            “I know what I have to do.” Natasha replied in a firm tone with renewed determination in her eyes.

            “Wait. What are you…” But before Sandy could say anything, Natasha put down the receiver and turned to her computer, opening up a new email and began typing,  

“Dear police chief, my name is Natasha Pearman Goodwill. I am guilty of committing murder five weeks ago on Thursday night. I killed my husband, Earl Pearman Goodwill, by electrocuting him while he was bathing. Earl died due to an electrical fault in the heater which was believed to be accidental. But I intentionally created a fault in the heater knowing that Earl would take a bath that night. I had no choice but to kill him. It was an act of desperation. I couldn’t tolerate his abuses anymore. His constant mood swings, his temper and his beatings… It was just too menacing for me to endure. Even after his death, his spirit still haunts me. The guilt is eating me up inside. Please, relieve me from this torment.”

            Before Natasha could break her resolve to confess herself to the police, she quickly clicked on the send button.

            “Finally, it’s all going to end now,” Natasha thought. It quickly took effect. She felt as though a heavy burden had just lifted from her shoulders. The guilt that had been shrouding her up till now was slowly fading away. Her conscience was becoming clearer. After all those sleepless nights, she could finally sleep peacefully tonight

            Natasha’s mind began to wonder. She thought about Sandy, how she would react when she found out what Natasha had done. After all, Sandy was not even a part of this. Natasha had confided in her best friend because she had to share her sorrows with somebody and Sandy was the only one she could trust completely.

            Before she could heave a heavy sigh of relief, one of her colleagues sitting at the next cubicle desk looked over at her computer screen and exclaimed delightedly:

 “Ooh! Red balloons with a ‘Happy Early Thanksgiving’ greeting. That’s so sweet!”








Married To A Killer


This is a story that I wrote back when I was in Singapore in Class 10. And I also took the concept of this story for my AS level English Language narrative writing.


“I am so sorry for your loss.” That was all Sandhiya had heard from her family members and friends since morning. But she knew that it was all an act. They did not even care about the death of her Marcus. In fact, some were even glad that he had died. Maybe it was because it was ironic that she, who was a rich, beautiful and reputable lawyer that was desired by many men, had done the unthinkable by marrying a killer. Sandhiya always had a strange attraction towards prisoners. That was the first place why she ever wanted to become a lawyer. Sandhiya shook her head slowly and gently wiped away her tears while clutching the hand of her dead husband lying motionlessly in the big black coffin.

She remembered the cold and lifeless eyes when she first met Marcus in prison. He was defiant like a teenager at first as he felt that it was suspicious of a reputed and intelligent lawyer like Sandhiya to take up his losing case. Marcus had been incarcerated for murder with a life imprisonment sentence. However, Sandhiya who was a defense lawyer managed to persuade Marcus to appeal to the court to reopen his trial which was successful. Sandhiya was the only lawyer who dared to take up such a challenging case and Marcus could not help but think that there were ulterior motives behind it.  

“Why are you here?” Marcus asked tersely.

“Well, of course, to get clues and evidences to help you,” replied Sandhiya in a calm and cheerful voice.

“Not that. What is your motive in helping me? Are you here just to get media attention? To be known as the lawyer who tried to help the pitiful man?”

“You read my mind.” Sandhiya replied sarcastically. “Look, I just want to help you get out of here. There is always a chance of getting out as long as you have not pleaded guilty. I will do whatever in my power to get you out.” Sandhiya said in an affectionate tone as her hands reached out for Marcus’s sweaty clasped hands.

Marcus felt a strange tinge of feeling, a feeling he had not felt before in his life. Was this what they called love at first sight? He thought. This was the first time that someone had stand by him, helped him in need.

 Ever since that day, Marcus began to open up to Sandhiya, revealing secrets and emotions he had never shown to anyone else. They began to share more intimate conversations even though they only had a few minutes with each other.

 After a few months, Marcus asked Sandhiya to marry him to which Sandhiya agreed happily, causing a media frenzy. Despite the tumult going on around them and desperate motions that were being filed, Sandhiya and Marcus continued in their jailhouse courtship. They savoured every single moment of their time together.

 After many retrials, the jury found Marcus to be innocent after Sandhiya miraculously presented them with evidences proving his innocence. When Marcus was released from prison, he thought that there must be God. A hopeless dream of ever walking on earth again was made possible by his angelic wife. However, it was evident to the media that Marcus was very sick when he coughed up blood during the day of his release.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” Sandhiya was startled as one of her friends gave their condolences. Sandhiya managed a fake smile and continued to stare blankly at her dead husband. Behind her back, she could hear her family and friends whispering, “Married to a killer.”

The words were all too familiar to Sandhiya. They had been Marcus’s last words to her. He had made his pronouncement minutes after his last dose of medication. Marcus had been obedient and adoring almost to the end. It was only when he took that final swallow of medication that he had finally awakened. His face had undergone a remarkable transformation, beginning with a cherishing gaze, to a questioning glance, to piercing stares, and then, at the end, a horrified look. He was staring at death, and something else, something that must have appeared even uglier to him.

“Married,” Marcus had gasped, trying to shout out his last words, trying to raise an alarm, “to a killer!”

Then he died.

Poisoned, but that was something only his widow wife would know. Sandhiya was strangely attracted to Marcus, not because of love or anything, but because of the fact that he was given a life imprisonment sentence despite taking the lives of people. To her, killing was a crime that must be punishable only and only by death and nothing less, and she would go to any lengths; even marry a killer, to make sure that justice prevails.

“There was an ulterior motive all along,” Sandhiya whispered and slowly closed the lid of the coffin smiling.