Maisie’s Kisses

by Shahrzad

Maisie’s Kisses

Maisie realised her kisses kill when she was about ten.

She was at the playground with her friend Henry. They ran over the see-saw together, holding hands for some reason. And then by the see-saw, Henry leaned over and kissed her fully on the lips, before letting go of her hand and jumping on the seat. Maisie stood still for a moment, confused, then ran to the other side, raised her arms, gripped the seat, pulled it down and jumped on. Henry went up, and then he fell like a stone with a very loud thud. He lay crumpled on the rubbery pink playground gravel, dead.

They said it was a random heart failure, but Maisie knew better.

After that, she avoided boys. Boys didn’t like that, especially as she was a pretty little thing with soft curvy lips, and the more she avoided them, the more they tried to kiss her. There was Jerry, who cornered her in the school cloakroom, and kissed her with a loud smacking sound. She wriggled out of his grasp and dashed out, only to hear once again that loud thud—she knew before she turned around that he was dead, lying lifeless among the stinky sneakers littering the floor. And Michael, who stole a kiss on the bus, just before his stop. He remained alive long enough to reach the door, and then tumbled out, headfirst, onto the pavement below.

And poor Paul. Maisie actually liked Paul—he was so good-looking with bright sparkly eyes and he was so kind and smart. They did homework together—they both wanted to be doctors. He helped her patiently with maths while she wrote up his essays. He would never kiss her suddenly, when she didn’t want it. She hoped desperately that would make a difference, inching closer and closer to him in their study sessions, letting her hand accidentally-on-purpose brush against his, until he asked politely, “Maisie…I’ve been dying to kiss you. May I?”

She forgot about her curse in her hormonal adolescent delight, and leaned forward with her lips parted and her eyes shining. “Oh Paul”, she breathed. As his lips pressed softly but firmly against hers, her whole body filled with joy and she could barely let him pull away. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, glowing with young love.

And then—she shrieked out in despair as the light dimmed in his eyes. He slumped over, while she sobbed uncontrollably.

She never forgave herself.

She gave up her dream of becoming a doctor, and relentlessly pursued another career, specializing in dealing with unwanted husbands and lovers. A surprisingly lucrative field.

She smiled at her latest prey, Jason, sitting across the restaurant table. She didn’t feel bad anymore, those emotions were long gone. She had a job to do, and he shouldn’t have asked her out when he was already married, asshole. She leaned in. She was busy, and didn’t want to waste too much time on this one.

About the author

Shahrzad (not their real name) is a prolific horror storyteller. They are influenced by old British classics and Middle Eastern mythology, and they tell horror tales to survive. You can read more of their work here.

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