Nadège Ango-Obiang

Môn (English Version)

It was already very late. It arrives out of indigenous ground which the night begins only at dawn. A child in the night. Doors which claquent and as wood which cracks. Is the sleep a search of modern times? Lengthened on my layer of heart of bamboo, barechested and exhausted by one day harassing in forest, I could not about it any more of the cries and the howls of this kid. His/her father had probably decided to finish some with him. Here low, where only the laws of the speaking breezes control, it was disadvised mixing with the palaver in the night. Some is the reasons. My wife stirred up several times, then ends up sitting down. She increased the clearness of the hurricane lamp and left the bed. At once I felt frozen, as if I were covered with wet cloths and refresh. Other cries reached us. Obviously of other villagers had chosen to pass in addition to the superstition. The bed squeaked when in my turn I rectified myself and resigned me to going to look through the window makes of wood. In spite of, the attempts at some people to withdraw his red pipe to him, a man of average stature, struck all the parts of the body of a child of approximately five years. I had already seen it making several times, but at more reasonable hours. Which nervous discharge T it has received to be caught some with if short period of man at one hour imprudent? I taken my loincloth and tied it around my kidneys.

When my wife and me arrived at the center of the court of the village, several tens of people, as summarily equipped as me, attended impotent the fury of the father who did not have any more his pipe. A man, much older than him, held it by the collar of the shirt of a hand and kept the pipe of the other. The father does not décolérait and did not leave eyes are wire haletant, exhausted by the blows and the sobs. He was vêtu only of one slipway that on our premises in Bitam one calls pants.
- A tâ, dzi na nâ? the old man without releasing it repeated to Him.
- E dzome dzi ! The father exclaimed by designating the unhappy child. E dzome dzi! The demons conquered the universe, `has there more nothing to make. It is rotten. This thing….
-A môn ! Sigh a woman in crowd.
- Kâ! Kâ! Ma yebe ki! heading the father.

Crowd observes in turn the child and the father. A cry shakes the assistance when a small woman, with the dye of night tries to take the child in her arms causing the fury of the father.

- I have say to you more to approach it! Howl T it.
- But if you told us, the old man suggested who always held it by the shirt. At this hour, why?

The father diverts finally the eyes of the child and the mother who deviated and keeps the low head.
- I was with my wife, began T it. And… it was held with the foot of the bed… during… It entered I do not know how. And my wife, that one… this bitch! My God, it shouted, it shouted as if her husband surprised it with an unknown. It has for this thing a fear and a respect that it forever did not have for me. A tâ! It y' has something in this body!
- It is a child, protests a man in crowd. It is necessary that it eats and that he rests.
The father looks at the man with almost delirious eyes.
- He does not need that to reinvigorate itself, counterpart T he. It is enough for him to abuse the bottom of his mother to reappear… Each day… more extremely… leave it! leave it!
It turns to the old man as if it were its last recourse.
At the beginning, the father of a feverish voice continued.
- I thought that… that it was a small child like the others… who had evil to fall asleep. But when I looked at it well, while it surprised us in our room, has tâ! This thing was in erection and its looks at was not that of innocent.
- What to make? The old man murmured. It is a child, perhaps that it does not know! It is necessary that it returns….
- Not at home! Protest the father.
He y' has somebody who wants to lodge the small one for the night well? Asked the old man the round.

Curiously but without surprised the circle gradually put to widen, and in a heavy silence, small groups were formed for better moving back far from the child and of his family. My wife fixed the ground, signs that she did not want to intend some to speak.
And you Ona, known as the old man by indicating me. You want to help your brother for this night well?
This intervention me been worth a cloud of glance and murmurs my wife started to scrape the ground of the end of its toes. Sign that she wanted to say not. But I could not say not, ç' had been perceived like a treason and a cowardice. I made yes discrete head.
- I sleep in your sister, for the remainder of the night, whispers me my wife trying to hide his dissatisfaction.
- But I could not occupy me of a child, say to him I.
- You know, the truth leaves sometimes in the cries and the tears. On our premises the Blacks, you know that one is very receptive with the wandering spirits. With all the evil that the human ones now make on this worn ground mystical vagrancy nobody any more astonishes. Perhaps this father saw the truth. I do not want to try the Devil while sleeping under the same roof as this small.

Before I could answer it had moved away towards a group from women which moved in their respective house. Later, in a calm income in the neighbourhoods of the village, I prepared a bed of fortune to the child on my old settee. It seemed very thinned down, the vitreous eyes, of the traces of tears on its cheeks. I of me to acknowledge that I was anxious. When I have to take his hand, I have tressailli in spite of me as under the influence of the pleading of my wife. Finally, he fell asleep before I extinguished the lights. I regained my bed while thinking that during all the course to my house the child staggered more than it went from there. Did his/her father punish it other maltreatment? He was current on our premises to lower a child to make it more flexible. But there was nothing to eat at the house and the child slept already. I took off my loincloth and slipped to me under cloths more frozen even than when I suit them to leave. My head was not long in turning, sign that this brutal alarm clock and impromptu was not taste of my organization. The eyes rivetted with the ceiling I however waited until the sleep has me. I felt my legs engourdis, with a feeling of undulation. Completely slowly put to pitch my body, then my bed, and I felt to slip into the comfortable wave of the dreams. Without anything to see. Nothing the whole. With heaviness I was turned over on the belly, although something in my head found me too heavy, had the impression to fall. This sleep resembled in truth a deactivation. Did I have to be awaked when finally my cloths returned the heat of my body to me and that thus to lengthen a pretence of rest comforted me for the moment? The question and the answer to this existential stake were occulted when in my hands of small hands encrusted themselves. I been able that to rectify my head as a cobra would make it, the remainder of my body obeying me more. This feeling of heat in my cloths emanated from another body on my body. In spite of my paralysis, I felt the steel of the masculinity, between my buttocks. The horror controls me when of my eyes, the hands of child disappeared in my flesh crucifiant the palm from my hands on the bed. I shouted, I pus to say it. Of my body, that my belly of alive, suffering. A large breath in the nape of the neck piaffait of excitation. In the night, the half-light of the room, against the wall it to me published that the shade grew, thickened, invaded all the space of the fascinating bed support inside my arms. And my back felt the weight of this metamorphosis of something of impatient, vis-a-vis an ultimate urgency. I heard the howl clearly that I pushed when on the wall, a tail put myself to be agitated creature in moult. And my voice broke under the influence of a violent pain, in my flesh a male member was involved. Prisoner flat belly, slave of an animal in rut, tanguement which had paralysed me stopped and from the blow all my directions returned to me multiplying by ten the pain of the penetration in my entrails. Hennissement or wail, my anger could not define it. I would have to disappear when thereafter, as exalté my entire body was to shake by the frantic penetration of this thing. Tears came me to the eyes, to think thereafter was impossible for me, the arrival of death was a certainty. But something of cold and viscous invades me relieving the effects of tilling in my buttocks. The creature seemed to be melted more in my flesh and I heard clearly the moaning, the stamp of the conquering child. Then suddenly in spite of me, under the attacks violent of this steel member, with my defending body, my sexual organs are reflected to vibrate. Again, I was controlled, by a pleasure which frightened me so much it seemed if violent. Again, as a slave I subjected to this treat of the directions. Unconscious, incoherent, my flesh became demanding. First light of dawn found me in tears, not yet repu of this strange member in my flesh, which incised me, violated me, abused me, starved me of this pleasure never sufficient.

I awoke on my bed, well late. My wife had still not returned. My cloths were entirely soiled, I had not dreamed and cure did not have any. It was necessary that I prepare, that I will see the father of the child. He was still very young and needed his mother. It was completely incredible that a father, under the effect of a lunatic jealousy, decides to trample youth thus and to become it of if young child.


All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Nadège Ango-Obiang.
Published on on 07/01/2008.


Comments of our readers (0)

Your opinion:

Our authors and would like to hear your opinion! But you should comment the Poem/Story and not insult our authors personally!

Please choose

Previous title Next title

Does this Poem/Story violate the law or the submission rules?
Please let us know!

Author: Changes could be made in our members-area!

More from category"Science-Fiction" (Short Stories)

Other works from Nadège Ango-Obiang

Did you like it?
Please have a look at:

MIKE (English Version) - Nadège Ango-Obiang (Mystery)
El Tercer Secreto - Mercedes Torija Maíllo (Science-Fiction)
El Tercer Secreto - Mercedes Torija Maíllo (Science-Fiction)