Monday, May 8, 2017




"HE WILL BE MINE..." Athena half-whispered to herself as she embarked on the third floor of the decrepit building in Galway, Ireland. A colleague recommended this eerie place to her as a way to solve her huge problem about Franco-the half-Mexican and half-Irish man she immediately got attracted to in a wild beer party hosted by one of her big bosses. 
A top supervisor in their winery company, Athena has always had the knack for gaining the trust of her superiors. For one thing, she was an excellent wine taster and could distinguish right on hand if the wine was genuine or tainted. 
The building quite surprised her because it was quite hidden from a normal aerial view and had a scent that made her reminisce her bullied days as a geeky girl with crooked teeth in her middle school. 
Athena has undergone several retainer processes so as to have that perfect set of white teeth. 

"SO HOW CAN YOU HELP ME?" Athena asked the frail middle aged lady on the dark counter. Everything about the place was creepy in the sense that Athena was experiencing severe heat and cold at the same time. 
"First, I want you to sit down and listen carefully," the queer looking lady advised her mildly. 
Athena followed her order and waited for her next instruction. 
Miss Milicenth, as she was called by her customers, put out a clean sheet of beige stationery and handed it out to Athena. "Here, take it."
Athena received the token and examined its hard content. There were Greek letters spelled out on the statio."What is this?".
Then Miss Milicenth got a pinkish bottle ladened with a soft heart pendant that looked like a logo."This magic potion has been used by many customers in the past and it never failed their expectations. You can have any man you want wrapped around your fingers."
Athena leaped to her feet. "Oh I can't wait to have him!".
"Let him taste a portion of the liquid in whatever camouflage you can and before you serve him the potion, you have to recite the verses on the paper thrice a night before. Light three pink candles as you recite the incantation.
And so Athena dutifully did as she was told. She invited Franco for a weekend getaway with her colleagues. And since Franco was a big fan of red wines himself, he went to Athena's patio. Little did he know that the plate of red velvet cake he consumed was far from normal. 
After all Athena's guests left, Franco felt unnaturally drowsy and fell on the brown couch. Athena offered to soothe his forehead. And as he tended him, he KISSED HER very deeply!
Athena backed off. But she was a bit titillated.
Franco kissed her one more time and again and again until they both savored the night with warmth, passion and declarations of love. 

Several months later after Athena got her WISH, she hastily returned to the worn out building and confronted Miss Milicenth. 
She was wiping her heavy sweat with her scarf. 
"UNDO THE POTION!", Athena cried out. She looked so desperate. 
Miss Milicenth LAUGHED to the brim. And it made Athena convulse in her presence. 
"You got your man! Why complain?". The strange woman mocked.
"HE NEVER LEFT ME!" Athena attested. "At first, it was so sweet and thoughtful of him to follow me around like a puppy. And after such time, he became so CLINGY and wouldn't leave me alone." 
"He became obsessed with you?".
"Yes precisely.It was revulsing. And it turned me off unnecessary." 
'Well, that was the supposed effect of the potion, So he could be yours entirely and forever."
"FOREVER..." Athena was petrified."NO! I will return the potion to you."
Miss Milicenth true colors showed. "YOU MADE A DEAL WITH THE DARK UNDERWORLD, don't you know?".
"Know what?".
"Remember I did not ask you for a payment or any kind of price for the potion. I gave it to you FOR FREE."
"Because it was a kind gesture of yours I presume."
Miss Milicenth laughter darkened. "It wasn't really free my dear. In exchange for the deal, YOUR SOUL WILL BE TAKEN."
"My soul? Taken by whom?".
"By the dark power that resides in the potion."
Athena screamed in horror and faded from view. She was gone like a vapor. 
Miss Milicenth gathered the ashes of Athena spread on the tiled floor and she deposited the fresh looking ashes into her new bottle of potion. In about an hour, she will have a new gullible customer.  


Friday, April 1, 2016


Just turned 42...and already Zelda was thinking about an advisory on Botox and placenta cream. She did not really look her age, in fact, she remained youthful in her early 40's. The one thing that worried her was the building up of worn out wrinkles on her forehead. Next, she would worry about her sagging breasts. Recently, she had her eyeglasses upgraded. And the worst to come was if her ass really disappeared. 
She gently picked up the silver mirror alongside her dresser. As she peeked at every corner of her face, her eyes dropped on her cleavage. If there was one major part of her body that she was proud of, it was her healthy cleavage. She had worn many cleavage-friendly dresses that surely attracted the attention of crowds. And her husband was her biggest fan. 
Zelda parked her car near the fashion store. And as she dragged her keys to her trousers' pocket, she caught a glimpse of a cheerful looking man leaning on a lamppost. He was also wearing dark shades that added mystery to his get up. She offered her most timid smile and started to walk toward the store. 
The stranger of a man blocked her way. And he intentionally brushed his front body against her torso. 
Zelda was pissed. "I can charge you for a minor count of sexual harrassment."
The man jeered and removed his dark glasses. "My name is Jed. And I'm new in town."
Zelda shook his hand reluctantly. "Hi Jed. Perhaps you're also in need of a job."
"As a mater of fact I do. If you can recommend one for me."
She slightly accepted his flirtation. "Why don't you join me for shopping and coffee afterwards?".
"Sure. Who could ever refuse that?".
And that was how their two-year long affair began. 
Her husband Teddy was teasing her on a Monday morning, seducing to massage her back. He even prepared a breakfast-in-bed for her. He always cherished the fact that his wife adored blueberries and butter on her waffles. And a real nice black coffee.
"I'm sorry we ran out of eggs." Teddy said softly, squeezing her bottom.
"Oh Teddy," she murmured. 'I'm not in a mood right now." 
"Last week, you were also not in the mood. A month ago, you were also cranky. Do you need a drop of Viagra?" He asked quite irritatingly. 
Zelda fell asleep.And shut her eyes to the one man who had cared for her lovingly for the past 20 years. 
In her dire opinion, Teddy may not have been the best lover in town. But he was good at cuddling and fondling. But Zelda couldn't dismiss the fact that the slightest touch of Jed's tongue on her upper thigh was enough to take her to a whirlwind pool. 
"Can I have another cheque of $10,000?", Jed was sipping his cigarette, looking afar out from the veranda.
"But I thought you had your car back already!." Zelda was tying up the hook of her bra. 
"I need it for another car dealer. Look, I'll give back the 10 grand to you as soon as I succeed in this  buy and sell business." 
"I warned you last time. You lost 5 grand on a horse betting scheme." Zelda began to put her robe back on."Oh Jed, I am not your ATM for life. My husband is starting to smell something." 
"Give me the 10 grand or I'm out of your fucking dear life!".
Zelda panicked a little and grabbed her checkbook. She signed a cheque hastily."All right. Just be good with this or it will be the last." 
Jed grinned his all knowing boyish grin and threw Zelda on the spring bed. He then gifted her with his greatest making love skill: cunnilingus which drove Zelda to multiple heights of ecstasy. 
Teddy was fumingly and deliriously enraged. At the sight of his clenching fists, Zelda ran for her life and hid herself in a cabinet as she reached the master's bedroom. 
"Get out of there you silly bitch!". Teddy dragged Zelda's arms and spun her onto the floor until she lost balance and banged her chest on the wooden tiles. "What have you done with the $1 million dollars? Where has it gone?".
"I used it for an investment."
"Oh yeah? What kind of investment crap is that?".
"Stocks. You don't have to fret. We will have large financial returns."
"The bank called just the other day informing me of a missing balance of another $500,000!". 
"Cool down Teddy. Remember I have my own inheritance and I can always pay you back." 
"We have a joint account damn it.And you have to honor it." 
Zelda raised her voice at Jed in such a seething way that he almost jerked when she cried her agonies. "My husband has opened an investigation on us!".
"So what do you want me to do?".
"You have to help me recover the cheques." 
"You know I'm a miser."
"Oh you idiot! You have to find some wicked ways to help me get the cash back!".Zelda raised her voice even further. 
"I have to leave town the soonest."
"And then what? Let me fix the whole thing?". Zelda was shaking in anger. 
"You never really loved me." Jed sniffed. "You just used cougar! You used me to fulfill your perversions."
"And what did you expect from shower you with true love?". Zelda mused."I'm very much married and you know that."
Jed smoothed his hair with his fingers."But somehow I felt something for you...I couldn't describe it but I felt something for you." 
Zelda and Jed made love for one last time. It was the sweetest and at the same time the most bitter moment of their lives. They were going to part ways for good in a few minutes. But before each of them could utter the last words of farewell, Teddy barged into the room. He was holding a .45 caliber. 
Zelda pulled the beige sheets up her chest. "No Teddy! Don't do that. You don't understand."
"I do understand my darling wife. Obviously you loathe my bedroom skills too much." 
Jed was at a loss for words. 
Within seconds, five bullet shots were thrown into the air. The last shot was self-inflicted. Teddy decided that they all go to hell together. 

Saturday, September 14, 2013


                   It was Gwendolyn's first enormous view of the once great matriarch of the Sanders' household. She held her breath momentarily in awe of the exquisite beauty staring back at her in dead silence. Stepping closer into the silver encrusted wedding frame, Gwen let out a few, halting gasps and murmured to herself. "So this is you Farrah Mishael...the one woman Phil dearly loved and beheld for nearly a decade.
                    But for sure, Phil loved her as much, Gwen pondered like a little girl bereft of parental affection. "For after all, I'm his second wife..."
                    Did her husband, who was well reputed and held highly by the Danish Society, really did care about her greatly inasmuch as she could fool herself into owning the idea?Gwen brought down the silver frame gently on the dusted desk so she could get rid of an up close view of the revered Mrs. Sanders the First.
                    Gwen has pressed Phil for countless innumerable times about how much he did love her. And Phil has consistently given her reassurance that he'd be hers for life and the life after that.
                    "How many times do I have to remind you that you measure up to no one?," Phil would playfully stroke her aquiline nose with his. "It is only you my darling."
                    Gwen would kiss her trustworthy husband with equal ardor and flair but midway their simmering kiss, she would retreat and ask again, "But why did you whisper the name Farrah in one of our lovemakings?". She tilted her head slightly, her face full of swirling doubts.
                   "I was feverish that day darling. You must understand sometimes..." He caressed her melancholic face and kissed her again and again to wash away all hidden fears.
                   And then as she saw the clandestine image of his elusive muse, she raged inside and longed to burn the damned frame before her.
                   In a few seconds, the door creaked open. It was Phil, steady and calm as a river.
                   "What on earth are you doing around here?", Phil slowly started to lose his composure upon the sight of an intruder. "This place is off limits."
                   True enough, the mysterious attic has had no occupants whatsoever for the past ten years. Except for Phil who alone had the access to the locked enclave. He could freely come and go out of the attic whenever he pleased and usually unbeknownst to the insiders of the Sanders household. Everybody thought that when Farrah had gone, so had the attic-which was once the couple's favorite love nest.
                   "Now I know the cause of your nightmare.Now I know the real  intruder!".
                   "She is not like that. She was once the love of my life. And I will and can never forget her."
                   Gwen buried her steamy face into her weakening hands.
                   "She's been dead for long. It's time for you to bury her memories. I'm your wife now."
                  "Do you have any idea how she died?, Phil queried purposefully.
                  "No, you never told me." She wiped her wet nose with her bare wrist.
                  "Well let me tell you now," he drew closer to Gwen and gave her his blue hanky for wiping fresh hot tears on her dumped cheeks. "HEPATITIS KILLED HER."
                 Gwen jerked her head in utter surprise. "Hepatitis?" she reiterated mildly.
                  "Yes. Hepatitis B & C are silent viruses because people may experience no symptoms."
                  Gwen's aura lightly cleared up. "But I heard from the other occupants of this house  that she died of a liver sickness."
                  "Yes indeed. If left untreated, hepatitis B or C can lead to advanced liver scarring, liver cancer or liver failure."
                  "Is that so?, Gwen muttered, her normal sweet voice breaking to pieces."Why didn't you inform me sooner?".
                  "Because you never seemed to care."
                  "Well thank you for bothering to tell me the truth. I was gonna die of extreme jealousy you know."
                  "Gwen, 500 million people are living with chronic hepatitis nowadays. And these people need help," he stated firmly."And I believe I was helpless at that time. Farrah owned the disease. In a way, I blame my ignorance for her untimely death."
                 "No you shouldn't my love. It's the deadly virus to blame."
                 Gwen gripped her husband's shoulders. And this time, she hugged him as if it were her very last.


Tuesday, July 31, 2012

The Jealous Colleague


                      Drake and I first brushed with each other at the pantry room of our advertising company,the Silver Linings Media Group. He captured my imagination the moment he flashed his killer grin-from then on I made it a habit to reflect on his pleasing aura before I closed my eyes and said hello to the night.
                      I was all the more drawn in to his web because he wasn't vain. He was never even aware how
good-looking he was!From time to time, he'd ask me quite seriously if he smelled and looked good enough for a media presentation.
                      Yes, Drake was our Advertising Director...and very much committed.
                      It was a word of mouth in the Silver Linings vicinity how "rich and beautiful" his fiance was.
I refused to see her in person whenever I had the chance. I just knew her name was Heather. She was said
to be Welsh and British bred.
                      One lazy afternoon, Drake stood by my side and laid his head on my left shoulder. Cold spasms jolted my whole being-unsure as to whether I'd hug him back or caress his golden hair. His favorite
Parisian scent was all over him and his breath reeked of fresh mint. My boyish and lovable colleague was
fond of munching mint in his spare time.He jokingly claimed that a mint was healthier than a regular gum.
                      "Why not come over to my flat and I'll pay you for a task?" He stretched his Londoner teeth.
                      "A task? For what?!" I exclaimed in elation.
                      "Have you forgotten it's gonna be my 38th birthday next week?" He touched the tips of my
hair with such gentleness that I almost cried in angst.
                       For I knew there and then that his touch was nothing but a pure, unadulterated... BROTHERLY AFFECTION. "But of course, I never forget a special present."
                       He knelt before me and held my hands to his chest. "Can you paint my future bride for me?
Oh Amber,if there were one person who I'd entrust my beloved's painting shall only be you."
                      The brush fell on my lap and it jerked downward my long, maroon skirt, splashing taint all over the cloth. Oh Jesus, Mary Mother of God, why knife my frail heart with such urgency and thrust? Why leave me bleeding, crashing,and crawling to my open grave?
                       "Drake, how can I say NO? You're my brother in my mind, heart, and soul." I tried to hide a
small drop of tear on the lid of my right eye.
                       "So you will paint her ? You will paint my HEATHER?".
                       I nodded in a rapture and straightened myself in a quirky manner. "I will paint her in her best
stature.Your darling, mighty Heather."
                     Two weeks had passed and I was amply equipped to start my well meaning assignment. I felt my fingers shivering as I rang the doorbell on 141 M.Derwood Avenue. A bubbly lady with milk skin and a summer, pink flowery dress welcomed me with zest and almost faked anticipation.
                    "So there you are Amber, I've heard so much about you." She directed me to her veranda, like a true hostess that she was molded to be. How could one overlook the fact that she was an Oxford alumna?
                    "Really? What has he told you about me?" I queried, my eyebrows in knot.
                    "That you fix him tea when he's tired and worn out, buy him a box of mint when he's run out of it,and how you arranged for his hospital bills when he had an emergency."
                    I almost choked, desperation springing forth from within my insides. I CAME HERE FOR HIM. I CAME HERE FOR THE LOVE OF MY LIFE...DRAKE, I WOULD DO THIS FOR YOU.
                    "It was nothing.Drake and I are like family." I snapped.
                    She walked briskly and showed me the blank canvass waiting by the side of the swimming pool. An ancient pool, with a mix a Spanish and Italian decors.
                     "Look, I'm ready!" She positioned herself in front of me. ME...the PAINTER...the DIRECTRESS...the PERPRETATOR of this whole scene.
                      And she...poor HEATHER...the subject of a painting grown bleak...the VICTIM...the OPPRESSED...the BETRAYED.
                 After the painting session was over, I removed Heather's bloody summer dress and draped her
instead with a yellow swimsuit.
                 Oh... my painting would sell reasonably well in the Silver Lining Exhibit next week. I had a real-life corpse for a model For sure, Drake would be more than proud of me.
                  At last, my one big dream would come about. Me and Drake... no longer brother or sister in bind. Enough of that crap. Enough of that fucking bullshit.
                  There's one problem though. How would I explain to Drake about Heather? Perhaps he'd take it that she accidentally hit her head against a railing of the damned pool.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Peachy,My Love

A peach rose-lying on top of her desk,was,of all roses in history, an indefinable and dainty rose tinged with deep,tangerine hues. The solitary peach rose lay
there,untouched and seeming imprisoned by the coldness of her room.
Little by little, she began to touch the peach rose with her fingertips and
when she noticed it had no thorns, she held it closer to her nostrils.But alas! The scent of the
flower was quite unlike any fresh rose she's inhaled before. It smelled a century old.
It was utterly cold,and felt like snow.Its petals were like tissue soft.
Where did the mysterious flower come from? She had no idea.
Perhaps her ever loving and sweet husband gave it to her as a present.
Maybe it was his surprise gift for her upcoming birthday.
It had to remain a secret. Lance detested it whenever one of his secrets
was spilled without his prior approval.
Sherry Lynne Carter was driving slowly and carefully along a deserted
neighborhood. Deciding to take another route gong to their cottage villa,she chose a less
trekked neighborhood and prayed to her guardians that she wouldn't meet a roving maniac
somewhere.Lance Thomas,her darling hubby, had always reminded he to be wary of unfa-
miliar routes.
It was dark and raining massively and of all things she forgot to carry a
raincoat,least a decent umbrella.
She parked momentarily alongside a house that looked medium and oldish
in style. There was a middle aged woman who approached her and knocked on her windshield.
"Excuse me, Miss, but maybe you need a cup of hot tea,"the woman soft-
spokenly invited."What are you doing out here on a stark,rainy night?".
"Oh, didn't mean to really. Heading for home now."
"You might want to come in the terrace for a minute.The rain will be even
more fierce later."
Lovingly defeated by the woman's touch of congeanility,Sherry stepped out of her fave VOLVO and joined the friendly woman on her terrace.
While walking under the woman's umbrella,Sherry suddenly spotted the rose
bush of the woman.
"Ma'am, may I know where you got all those peach roses? I've never seen anything so lovely and delicate,especially under the influence of rains,"she was raising her voice
above normal.
"Oh that! We have a rose garden both in our front and backyard. We have all kinds of roses,all colors,"she breathed hard."But the peach roses belonged to my daughter."

Lance tiptoed down the staircase, avoiding every bit of lapse lest he awakenened any of his sleeping kids. The moment he opened the door,Sherry materialized as if she had seen
a white ghost.
"Where on earth have you been hiding? It's way past midnight,"he almost yelled.
"I know. Got past by a lonely house with a rose bush."
"A rose bush!", he almost broke down in hysteria. "And Sally has been waiting for you to help her with her artwork. Had to make a rag doll, which I knew nothing about."
Sherry simply shrugged off what Lance muttered and she dropped down on the
love seat.
"Can you believe it Lance? Her daughter went to the same university that you're teaching.She must have been one of your students in Medieval History."
Lance took a swig of root beer."Really?And may I know the lucky name?".
"PEACH.She said her daughter's real name is Peachy Anne.But everybody called her Peach.I heard she was quite popular in school.Dean's List."
From the instant that Sherry voiced out the name Peach, Lance took a swift turn and ditched some of the beer in can. His wife failed to catch how ashen pale his face was.
From that day forward that Sherry encountered the woman with the rosebush,she has been seeing a peach rose every now and then. If not on her table,she found one on her pillowcase.Sometimes she saw one on her bathtub,even in her baby's crib.At first,she thought
Lance was playing tricks on her.
Then one afternoon, she got the biggest surprise of her life when a dozen peach roses
melted and dried before her agonizing sight all at once.She was still trying to digest what supernatural event has just transpired when the roses disappeared in split seconds.
Her voice trembled. "But I felt them-they were fresh...the why did they dry up...and now why are they gone? Dear Lord, what is happening to me?",she gave way to frightening sobs and when she could not longer help herself, rushed to phone Mrs. Terrence.
"My daughter has been missing for almost a year now Mrs. Carter,"the grieving woman
finally divulged to Sherry in an almost whispering tone."She was slated to graduate a magna cum laude in her degree and a few weeks before the graduation line up she disappeared."
"Haven't you informed the authorities?',Sherry curiously queried while sipping her tea.
"I did,to no avail."
"But she was pretty come nobody stepped in to help?".
"Everyone assumed she went away to heal a broken heart."
"Why?Who broke her heart?".
"Long story...but my daughter,no matter how smart she was, was downright stupid when
it came to love."
Sherry put down her cup of tea and embarked on a theory."Her boyfriend must have knocked her up."
"It's much more complicated than that Mrs. Carter.She got involved with a married man and got pregnant with his child."
By that sheer pronouncement, Sherry finally kept mum and locked her thoughts.

Monday, July 19, 2010


Laura is bewildered by her husband's recent behavior-he seems
detached and physically out of reach. But she holds on to her faith that
Ronnie gets back to his old self and romantacize her just like the good times.
The boat is put back into question.The white, sailing boat, which is named
after her-LAURA-is being considered by her husband to be outdated and
"Why can't we just buy a new boat?," Ronnie reiterates everytime
they're having dinner.
"But it's not within our budget,"Laura pronounces,with her angst
written all over her face."Why can't you be contented with our old boat?"
she pleads in a half-hysteric and half-choleric mode.
End of bickering.
But to Ronnie, he plans to end it all.
So he seeks seclusion in the arms of her dimwitted, blondie mistress;
"I told you so. Don't be so hardheaded. Go get rid of her.And we'll live
merrily ever after in some secluded island, along with our new luxurious
Ronnie reclines to a side of their bed and lights a cigarrete. He fondles
Roxoe's golden hair. Getting rid of someone is easier said than done. Doing
the heartless act is far more convoluted.What if the authorities find out?
But still, Ronnie caresses the nefarious thought on his mind.He'll carry
out the move soon. In the meantime, he has Roxie all to himself tonight.
Together, he and Roxie roll over the bed in splendid and unrestrained
The perfect opportunity transpires when Ronnie invites her unassum-
ing wife to a private dinner in a cozy restaurant. They choose a fine,reclusive
spot in their place at Manitoba, Canada.
Laura is unexpectedly relieved because her husband evades the topic
on boat-selling. Rather, he spills unnecessary sweet things to her,which remind
her of their honeymoon days.
"Sweetheart, I don't want a new boat anymore. All I want is you!"Ronnie
serenades his wife stealthily.
"Oh honey, I never expected a better news other than that!". Laura
states in her usual, womanly whine.
While Ronnie fills his wife's wineglass with poison,she dizzily recounts their
love story-from the time they meet and make love for the first time.Before, she
finishes gobbling her wineglass, she drops on the carpeted floor, and she is
viewed mercifully by the other diners.
In no time at all, her untimely demise spreads in the community like
wildfire. Everyone seems remorseful of her sudden passing, especially her
coworkers at a salon.
Ronnie, however, deliriously blissful at his newfound freedom, instructs the
embalmer to embalm his wife thrice. Yes,EMBALM HIS WIFE THREE TIMES.
Unknown to Ronnie and his kitten of a mistress,the embalmer fails to
enact his job. The embalming machine malfunctions.And he is distracted.Instead
of having the machine fixed, he leaves Laura to her dead body.Anyway, there is
only one day mourning and she is to be buried on the very same day. No one will
After about a few days, Ronnie and Roxie buy their DREAM BOAT.They are
headed to a paradise where they can start a new life together.As they celebrate
in Laura's house, they are agitated by a severe, loud knock on the door.
"Do you mind of we interrupt?",the police officer divulged in a calm,suspicious
"No, not at all. What is it officer?".
"Your wife's corpse is not in her coffin. We tripled-checked it.She has vanished
myteriously.Did you change her tomb?".
Ronnie's mouth falls open. Beside him, Roxi's face drains of all its natural color.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Perfect Husband,Perfect Killer

"Never marry a man who can't control his emotions,"
rang an old adage about marrying right.But for Cherryl
Keaton,the brilliant and talented attorney from Washing
ton University,such assumption was a bit hard to digest.
Especially so when it was a bit late to realize the dama-
ge done.
When Cherryl was found abandoned in her vehicle on
a busy day in Portland,Oregon,she was bludgeoned to
death.Her face was swollen and puffy.And her mass of
injuries consisted of lacerations,contusions,and abras-
ions.She had been brutally beaten that she looked unre-
It certainly would have taken a person so full of RAGE .
That he kept striking and hitting.Again and again and
again and again.
Her family were baffled.How could a cherished friend
by dozens of people die despicably and in such a brazen,
bloody fashion.She was warmly received for her warmth
and vivacity. She was a very studious girl back in law school
and was a noted member of Gamma Phi Beta Sorority.In
no time at all, she became a full partner in the law firm of
Garvey,Schubert and Barer.
But somewhere along the way, she became madly,
insanely and irrationally in love with someone.The object of
maladjusted affection was Bradley Morris Cunningham,
a banker and a real estate developer.
Cherryl was deliriously quoted:"I was very much in love
with him,and I thought he was very much in love with me.
She had met very few men in her life who were not intimi-
dated by her intelligence and income.
And who was the lucky guy? Bradley Cunningham was
said to be a superb lover.An ex-wife nostalgically confes-
sed."When Bradley kissed you,it's as if you're the only
being living on earth." Indeed, his courtships were exqui-
sitely planned. In fact,he was a virile,marrying man. Un-
known to Cherryl,however, she was his fourth wife,and not
the second.And she had no inkling he would get himself a
fifth wife later.
There were to be five women who became Mrs.Bradley
Cunningham before he reached his 30th birthday.
Was Bradley indeed a compassionate lover or was it pos-
sible that he was not what he seemed,that he was a man
who had brutally murdered his wife?
Cherryl's brother,Jim Karr,was not fully convinced about
the car accident theory.He was a bit stoic when he said,
It wasn't just the brother who was skeptical about his sis-
ter's death,the other women in Bradley's past unanimously
felt the same way,albeit in deep hesitation. Bradley scared
them to death in such a frightening ardor.They looked like
trembling kittens when Bradley was around.
His wives.
His sister.
His daughter.
His mother.
They believed that given Bradley's impeccable temper, he
His ex-wives all swore and testified How Bradley tortured
hit them profusely,and abused them constantly.He even
kicked his mother a couple of times,which drove her to fore-
warn her daugher-in-law,"Cherryl,you've got to be careful
around my son.You don't know him that well!".
He was never an ounce sorry for it.He was mean to his
only daughter too and often bullied his lone sister over a
petty argument.
Women in Brad's life were disposable,dispensable,
objects of derision and hatred-expendable.He once spat,
"A woman's place is in the kitchen,in the bedroom.
What she is good for is to be in the kitchen and be a whore
in bed. A known psychologist stated firmly that "WHAT WE ARE ,
Unfortunately,there was absolutely no physical evidence
to link Bradley with the crime.The blood hair,and finger scrapings
taken from him were not enough to convict him.It was futile to
file a case against him because there were no physical witnes-
ses to pinpoint him at the scene fo the crime.
So he was a free man...but not for long.
In due time, he was faced with a civil case. Easier to prove than
a criminal case,the jury in a civil case would only decide the
most compelling evidence.
The facts of the case involved three siblings from the Cunning-
ham marriage-Jess,Michael and Philip.Prior to the crime,
the couple had an acrimonious divorce proceeding and it
involved full custody fo the boys. Both Bradley and Cherryl
were fighting on the edge to be the primary parent.
Cherryl added fuel to the fire when she stripped Bradley to be
the inheritor of her estate.She drew out a new will,stating the
bulk of her assets to be divided equally among her boys,
leaving Bradley with nothing. She was dealing with a manipulator
and a master puppeeter.
And she was no longer willing to abide by him.
Through a series of tests, Bradley was labeled having a character
disaster.He was a NARCISSIST. It meant he could not relate
meaningfully with anyone.He had no conscience.A narcissist
cannot love in a genuine way.It's an incapacity.
Bardley was a sadist. He was comfortable with cruelty.He wan-
ted to dominate,to control.Individuals who believe that their mothers
are that bad almost instinctively reenact the same rage toward
in their lives.
In the end, Bradley got what he deserved in justice. He was convicted.
"Did you kill Cherryl?" ,The judge asked him for the final moment.
Bradley was as cold as a dead fish.
"How long does it take to strike a struggling adult, human being 24 times?" The jury insinuated.
In September 21,1986,Cherryl was about to pick her lovely boys from a weekly visit with their deranged
dad. She was vehemently shaking from hysteria, since she was not sure about the safety of her boys.Bradley
might take them forever away from her. So Cherryl told her mother randomly,"Mother,write this down. He told me he's at the Mobil Station by theIGA." Cherryl had no vision about the kind of devilish entrapment awaiting her.