Based On A True Life Story - Literature - Nairaland
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THE DESIGNER (based On A True-life Imagination)) / Nigeria to Europe through the desert-A true life story / Showers Of Mercy - True Life Story (2) (3) (4)
| Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 9:28am On Sep 26, 2022 |
I’ve come to accept the fact that my husband and I might just be cursed. . Since the very day we got married, it has been from one bad situation to the other for us. It’s been eleven years and our situation is only getting worse by each passing day. . People have even gotten tired of pointing accusing fingers at me. . My husband was doing very fine before we got married. So I guess it was just normal for people to have assumed that the drastic “nose dive” in his affairs had everything to do with me. . "She has very bad luck! She is possessed! She has a spirit husband!” Are words on the street, referencing me. . It was the very next day after our wedding that my husband lost his job. Prior to this sack, he had taken a loan to facilitate a project and had used his house as collateral. Our house was repossessed along the line because of my husband's inability to pay his debt. . My husband had to sell his car too at some point. He used some of the money he realized from this sale to set up a business for me but this business crashed before it even began. . For this eleven years, I've never even for once had a miscarriage. Not even one. You know, at least, that would have even given us something to hold on to; something to keep us hopeful. . I was called barren. I was called a witch. I was accused of eating my unborn children. I was called a lot of unprintable names. . We'd gone from one prayer house to the other and for the past eleven years, our condition has only worsened by the day. . We now feed from hand to mouth. Any day we get to eat twice a day, we have to give a special thanks to God almighty because days like that are very rare. . On my way from the market one day (where I’d gone to beg for whatever I could lay my hands on), a firm grip to my hand snapped me back to consciousness. Apparently, I’d drifted away again in thought. This was something I did a lot. . Jerking from the scare that this firm grip had caused, my eyes went wide in utmost shock to the discovery of who exactly had gotten a hold of my hand in that grip. It was Sandra, the very popular mad woman in our neighborhood. . It is one thing to have been assumed a witch all these years, primarily for the circumstances that'd surrounded my life but another thing entirely to be seen with Sandra, interacting in any form. . I tried with all my might to break loose of Sandra's grip but I couldn’t. . Sandra went ahead to utter words that ought to have been nonsensical; random. Words that ought to have been as crazy as she is but yet, these words were soul piercing; hair raising; mind bugging. These words were to leave me spellbound and more curious than I've ever been in my entire life. . “I weep for you Juliet! Indeed, you have really suffered. The heart man is terrible but you had to have been a fool not to have seen this coming. You are a fool to have assumed that everyone can be as pure as you at heart. Only if you knew! Only if you knew that the root of your problem has been staring you right in the face; every second by the minute of every hour, for the past eleven years. Only if you knew! Get rid of it and you’ll be shocked how much goodness you and your husband will experience in such a short period of time”. 4 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Sharoniah(f): 12:43pm On Sep 26, 2022 |
I love it already, following 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 6:50pm On Sep 26, 2022 |
Before I could even get the chance to ask Sandra what she'd meant by those words, she'd long let go of her grip on me and in seconds, transitioned into what we've always known her to be (a mad woman). . I got home that day completely spent. Besides the fact that the little I'd managed to gather (in arms) at the market was barely enough to feed one person, Sandra's words kept ringing in my ears. I didn't know what to make of it. "Was she just in her usual mad woman mode? Maybe she was just being dramatic and none of those words really mean anything." I thought to myself. But she'd touched a lot of sensitive spots in my personal life; points that just couldn't have been sheer coincidence. . For some reason, I couldn't discuss Sandra with my husband or anyone for that matter. I mean, how do I tell them that the mad woman they've known all their lives told me something that was worth pondering over? . For the weeks that followed, I barely slept at night. I was usually awake, wondering; trying to figure out what Sandra could have been trying to tell me. I barely went the whole day without Sandra's words ringing in my ears (literally). “I weep for you Juliet! Indeed, you have really suffered. The heart man is terrible but you had to have been a fool not to have seen this coming. You are a fool to have assumed that everyone can be as pure as you at heart. Only if you knew! Only if you knew that the root of your problem has been staring you right in the face; every second by the minute of every hour, for the past eleven years. Only if you knew! Get rid of it and you’ll be shocked how much goodness you and your husband will experience in such a short period of time”. These words almost ran me mad. I almost went nuts, trying to decipher it. . At first, I tried to interpret Sandra's words in a "literal" term but those words led me to a part I knew couldn't have been right. I narrowed it to a couple of options and seated at the top of it was John, my beloved husband. So you see why I couldn't have believed that Sandra spat those words with no special coding to it? . A whole year passed and as expected, our situation worsened. The one room apartment that John inherited at his family house now seemed too big for us because of how empty it had became. We obviously had no properties to our name and we barely even had three pairs of clothes, each. We'd sold the ones that we could while others had worn out, leaving us with what everyone now referred to as "wash and wear". . I woke up this particular day feeling uneasy. I felt sick and knew that I needed to treat myself early, else I risk breaking down. Since we couldn't afford proper medication, I decided that I was going to pluck some leaves and hopefully, concoct something out of it. I dressed up and set out. I reached for our gate and threw it open but the moment I made to turn back around after I'd short it close, rains of lashes began to fall on me. Whip from all angles landed on me, sending unimaginable pain through my entire body. This person was lashing at me so mercilessly, you'd have assumed that I'd stolen something very important. . I managed to look up; at least to see the face of my attacker and to my horror, it was Sandra. . Sandra was flogging me with all her might and the scorn she had on her facial expression was one I couldn't understand. But I couldn't wait to ask. I ran as fast as my legs could carry, yet Sandra wouldn't let me be. She ran after me. For fear; shock and irrational thinking, I ran passed my house Sandra continued in her chase. I ran as fast as my legs could go (which was not far by the way) before I tripped over, giving Sandra a perfect opportunity to finish what she'd started. . And No! None of these was a dream. To be continued... 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Typicool8(m): 7:42pm On Sep 26, 2022 |
Spiritualonyx: Nice story so far Please mention me in your next update 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 8:36am On Sep 27, 2022 |
Part 3 The way Sandra went at this, it was obvious that she had no plans to stop, anytime soon. . As i laid on that floor rolling from end to end screaming, scratching, clawing and begging Sandra to let me be, I tried to look around to see if I would luckily see someone; anyone at all who would either come to my aid or help raise an alarm (to be delivered from Sandra) but there was no one in sight. . Sandra kept on lashing at me while still maintaining her scornful facial expression. Deep into this act, Sandra began to mutter words I had to listen very carefully to make something out of. "Shey you dey like sufferness? Stupid woman! Mad woman! Suffer no dey tire you, abi? I go beat that crase commot your body today. Yeye dey smell." . The more Sandra muttered these words, the more aggressively she lashed at me. When it dawned on me that it was unwise to expect that Sandra would eventually get tired and let me go, I managed to make it to my feet before I took to my heels. Again, Sandra took to chasing. . I was running and screaming my lungs out yet, for some reason, no one seemed to either hear me; be around to help me or maybe they just didn't want to be a part of this. I'd rounded my house in two laps before I remembered that the right thing to do was probably try to open the gate, then run in. I'd hoped that it'll keep Sandra out when I did but I was never as wrong. . I was the only person left at home before I'd decided to go out to pluck those leaves for herbs. I'd just locked the gate with a padlock when Sandra earlier attacked me. For fear and the agonizing pain every lash from Sandra's whip was sending all over my body, it took me a while before I found the right key to the gate and another minute or two just to open it. Immediately I made it inside the compound, I attempted to close the gate behind me, with the intention to shut Sandra out but that didn't work. . Sandra flung open our gate effortlessly with one hand; in a single push. . I've always heard that mad people's strengths are unreal. Sandra confirmed that, that day. . The horror at the sight of this; the shock, got me tripping over again but because I was more than determined to get as far away from Sandra (even though at the moment, that seemed very impossible), I managed to get to my feet again. . At this point, I'd run out of breath. I should be too tired to even move a muscle. It was very obvious that I was now operating on pure adrenaline and even at that, I think at this point, I was already exhausting my adrenaline's "reserve". . Sandra boxed me in and began another round of violently flogging me silly. . Then Sandra again began to mutter words. This time around, they were directions. "Get inside! Bring it out! Break it! Burn it! Get inside! Bring it out! Break it! Burn it!" To be continued... 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 6:50pm On Sep 27, 2022 |
Part 4 Nothing about Sandra's utterances made any sense to me. . "Go inside where? Bring what out? Break wetin, Sandra?" Was all I could scream as loud as my lungs could project. Probably in my bid to let Sandra know that I was not being adamant in carrying out her instructions, it's just that I had no idea what she was talking about. . I'd hoped that this would probably get Sandra to being specific with whatever it was she was trying to tell me but it didn't. The more I asked for clarity, the more her whip landed on my body. Each strike was more intense than the last. . Sandra had had me in one spot for a little over two minutes now, whipping me mercilessly without any effort from me to even, at least, defend myself. . I'd thought about defending myself before. Hey! I'd even tried one time to be defensive but that only ended up infuriating Sandra even more. "See this mad woman o. You say suffer no dey tire you, abi? You wan fight me ba? You wan show me say you sabi fight; say you get power, abi? But why na only my power you get? Na only me you fit show? If you strong like that, you no supposed dey where you still dey like this na!" . It was after that one failed attempt that I resolved to simply protect myself from Sandra's lashes by shielding my face or any other body part that Sandra's whip could leave a lasting mark on, as best as I could until she hopefully tires out. . From all indications, Sandra was not done with me. I was not moving a muscle towards the right direction; towards any direction even (besides shield my face) so I guess Sandra assumed that this tactics of hers was not working; she was not getting through to me in the way she'd probably hoped, so she decided to change tactics. . Sandra threw the whip she had in hand down. This was rather confusing. I tried to wrap my head around what was going on. Even though this was what I'd wanted, I still wasn't sure it was actually happening. . I didn't know whether or not Sandra had indeed, tired out and would be leaving our compound right that moment or even better, whether or not Sandra was now going to be more specific about what she'd been blabbing about now. I wish it was any of the above. . Sandra dropped her whip and began using her bare hands on me. Sandra was throwing those punches violently at me with everything she's got in such a manner that again, anyone who'd seen this would have easily assumed me a thief; a husband snatcher or even worse, the cause of Sandra's madness. . Sandra's facial expression at this point; the whole time, was now more of frustration. "Na life you dey leave so? Shey you know say as you dey like this ehn, you be empty vessel? You just dey waka among who dey live but me and you know say no be life be this. So if I decide to kee you now, for here, I'll actually be doing you a favor. I'll be saving you from the torment of having to wake up to your present situation, every morning." . Sandra suddenly stopped punching me. Her neck began to turn in all directions as though in search of something. When her eyes supposedly landed on what she seeked, she dashed towards the location and behold, just like a scene from a horror movie, Sandra reemerged with a machete in hand. . I was too weak; in so much pain to even do anything at this point. I swear I couldn't feel most part of my body, my legs especially prior to this moment but at the sight of Sandra approaching me with a machete in hand, how I sprung up and dashed into the closest place I thought could be my shield from this crazy; mad woman is still a misery to this day. . I sprung up and dashed into the room my husband and I shared. I was too terrified to even know to shut the door behind me, which was supposed to be the point of running in here in the first place. . Sandra was now dramatically walking towards me, slowly paced. "Bring it out! Break it! Burn it! Bring it out! Break it! Burn it!" Was all I could make out of Sandra's mutter, as she approached me with that machete in hand. . "I beg you in God's name, Sandra. Just tell me what you want me to bring out and I will. I am tired. I am too weak. Please don't do this. Sandra please. Sandra No! Please! PLEEAAASE!" To be continued... 2 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 9:37am On Sep 28, 2022 |
Part 5 Sandra walked up to and halted right in front of me in a manner I’d presumed was going to be my last moments on earth. . Sandra stood still for a few seconds, staring me dead in the eyes as intensely as possible, while at the same time, shaking her head with a facial expression that now depicted pity. . Sandra turned back around, walked a few steps as though heading towards the door before she halted again, turned around and then beckoned on me. I was too frightened to even make anything out of whatever it was Sandra was doing at this point. In my head, every indication pointed towards people coming back to meet my lifeless body. "If I am lucky, someone would have seen Sandra exit our compound to at least, tie my death to her." . “GET UP!” Sandra thundered in a manner that though, as confusing as it made me, I was standing right next to her in seconds, whimpering. “Remove that thing from the wall and come with me”. Sandra ordered. . “Remove what? Ha! No o...” I thought to myself but before I could even complete that thought, Sandra’s thunderous follow ups, got me sprinting towards the wall where this item hung. . I was hesitant to do as Sandra had ordered because, besides the fact that here I was, a very sane human being suddenly taking instructions from a verified "mad woman", the significance of this particular item was such that, I couldn’t just jump at doing as commanded. I couldn’t have a mad woman talk me into doing something I’d lose my marriage over. I mean, how would I explain to my husband that Sandra (the mad woman he’d known all his life) made me destroy the only wedding present we still had in our possession after all these years because of the significance at which the person that’d presented it, held in our lives? . Hmm! This frame was an early wedding present from John’s elder sister (Aunty Juliet). It is a picture from our pre-wedding shoot. A single picture that turned out to be the best shot John and I had ever posed for. We love this frame so much. We hung it in our room, on the wall just opposite our bed. . I am talking about the only woman in the family that I can literally do anything for. All aunty Juliet needed to do was just ask and I’d go to any length just to please her. This is all because of the love and acceptance Aunty Juliet have shown me since the very first day John introduced me to the family. . Aunty Juliet is just beautiful, both in and out. She’d always take my side during a fight with John (her brother). Aunty Juliet is that one woman I could go to; talk to; pour my heart out to in whatever form, however I was feeling without the fear of being judged or misinterpreted. . I never had to bother being ashamed, no matter how dirty what I needed to talk about was, with Aunty Juliet. . Aunty Juliet and I were that close, primarily because I don’t have parents or any sibling left alive. Aunty Juliet is more of an immediate family member to me than a sister in-law. . Sandra had angrily begun advancing towards me before I fearfully retrieved this frame. . Instead of walking towards the exit door like Sandra had earlier ordered, I proceeded to point the frame at her (out of fear). The scornful look Sandra gave me in response to this, had me immediately retracting my hand and just walking behind her, as commanded. . “Break it! Burn it! Break it! Burn it! Break it! Burn it! Break it! Burn it! Break it! Burn it! Break it! Burn it!” was all Sandra was singing onwards. At this point, because of how dramatic Sandra had become, I didn’t need too much motivation to do what I obviously needed to. . Smashing that frame to the floor is the last clear memory I have of that moment. Everything else is blurry. . I blurrily remember feeling as though a strong force detached my body. I blurrily remember suddenly feeling as though drunk. I couldn’t stand properly; I couldn’t hear a single thing. I saw Sandra’s lips parting for words but unlike prior to this moment where I could hear her mutters and chatters, everything was now radio silent. . I blurrily remember Sandra opening the keg I’d brought kerosene in. I remember Sandra motioning at the shattered frame, probably directing me on what to do with the kerosene she’d now handed me. I remember pouring the kerosene on the frame, while still on spaghetti legs. I remember Sandra handing me the matches and signaling me to light and throw. I blurrily remember doing all of that and that was it. . I woke up to observe that a huge crowd had now gathered. The sun was blinding. I was confused and scared at the same time. . Though everyone seemed to be talking, I could barely hear a thing. I tried to open my eyes in readjustment. I tried to strain my ears to pick up a word; anything at all. I tried to make my way up; to understand what exactly was going on. . I finally did and to my utmost surprise, I was not even the one that'd attracted this much crowd. As a matter of fact, no one even seemed to notice that I was awake. To be continued... 3 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Treasurewamiri(f): 10:42am On Sep 28, 2022 |
Wow! More please 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by stainless190(f): 8:10pm On Sep 28, 2022 |
Moreee 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 7:37am On Sep 29, 2022 |
Part 6 I looked around, just to be sure that I'd woken up in the compound I remembered and yeah, indeed I had. . I looked around to see if any of these faces looked familiar. . I wondered why I hadn't yet gotten any attention, especially since I'd now been awake for quite sometime. . At first, I couldn't recognize any face. This was rather surprising and at the same time, scary because we hardly had guests over, talk more of having them turn up in these number. . I tried to wrack my head; casting it back with the intent to remember something; whatever would make sense of this situation but the last thing I remembered at the time was smashing that frame to the ground. . No matter how hard I tried to remember beyond that point, I just couldn't. . At this point, I had no memory of Sandra and barely any of Aunty Juliet. . I felt as light as a feather. . After I'd walked passed two; three unfamiliar faces; faces of people that still seemed oblivious to my presence, my heart began to skip in irregular beats; heartbeat that soon trasitioned into a hard pound. . I couldn't bring myself to even consider for one second, that this could in anyway be as it seemed. Even though every indication pointed towards it, "there is no way I am dead". . "Or I'm I? Is that the reason no one notice my presence?" I thought to myself. . I tried to pinch myself just to be sure but I felt every bit of that pain. "Ehen! I said it. I am not dead joor. I don't think spirits would feel pain. Not in this manner at least." I said to myself, in the quest to consolidate this positive feeling I'm trying to lash unto. . I soon noticed that this crowd had their attention fixated at a particular direction. . Besides staring, not a lot of movements was going on. . Out if curiosity, I maneuvered my way through the crowd to the front of the line, in a bid to know; to see for myself what was taking so much of these strange people's attention. And behold, to my horror, lying "in state" just a couple of feets away from me was Sandra. Yeah! The same "very mad" Sandra. . For some reason, I was now able to remember Sandra. My encounter with her moments ago suddenly flashed before my eyes. . I now remembered enough but what seemed vital was still foggy. . Now more than ever, I was confused. I looked around in total disbelief. I had a million and one questions running through my head in that instant; questions that were almost beginning to drive me crazy, especially as no one seemed ready to give me any answer to them. "Who are these people? Why is Sandra lying as though dead but looks nothing like it? Why is nobody talking to me? Why is nobody answering my questions? What is going on here? Why are all these faces alien to me? I'm I dead? Is this hell?" . I'd at a point tried to stand in front of someone, waving with all my might; with the intention to snap him back to consciousness, enough to acknowledge my presence but all my efforts proved futile. . Though sad; scary, It was now very obvious that I am invisible to everyone on sight. . Out of curiosity, I decided to go closer to Sandra; to take one good look at what exactly was going on in that casket she'd been laid in. I'd even hoped that I would maybe get a clue to what was going on here, by close observation. . I got close; so close that I could touch Sandra if I wanted to, just by lifting a finger. . At this close proximity from Sandra, the first thing I noticed was that nothing about her, remotely looked like she was dead. As a matter of fact, Sandra was still breathing. She could easily have passed for someone taking a nap than she would, dead. . The second thing I noticed was that Sandra was not as dirty and unkept, like I've always known her to be. It was literally the contrary. Sandra was lying there neatly dressed. Sandra had her hair done with makeup on. . "Why then are these people staring at her and not doing anything else?" I wondered. . I made to turn back around; to probably go inside the house in search of someone I might recognize and hopefully, get some of my questions answered when a firm grip to my hand almost had me dropping to my death, out of shock. . It took a while but when I finally managed to turn back around, the sight I beheld got me jittery. . I'd turned swiftly around to lock gaze with a smiling Sandra. "Confused?" Sandra asked, now with a straight face. . I was too startled to have found the voice to have either affirmed Sandra's question, nor nod in response to it. . Sandra stood up from where she'd been lying in state and dramatically beckoned on me to follow her. I did without hesitation. . I couldn't help but notice how totally transformed Sandra was. Haven knew her all these years as quite the opposite, there was no way I wouldn't have been as surprised that Sandra could ever look anything like this. . Sandra looked amazing. She was looking the most beautiful I've ever imagined she could be. Sandra was beautiful dressed in a shiny silky long tight fitted, very long slitted grey gown. A gown that seated beautifully on her body. . "How could this even be possible? Sandra? It's official. I died and from all indication, I am in a version of heaven that Sandra is a big shot in". This was the only explanation I could think of that at the time, made sense to me. I mean, at this point, I'll believe anything, as long as it gives me perspective. . Sandra led me to the main entrance of the passage that led to the various quarters in my compound. Sandra halted just when the next obvious thing to do was for her to reach for the knob. Sandra asked me to "go ahead. Open it." As directed, I reached for the door knob and turned it open to behold, light. Very bright lights. Lights that my eyes eventually got accustomed to and once it did, I finally saw faces I recognized. . The first face I saw was Aunty Juliet's. She seemed very excited. She was reaching for something. At this point, I couldn’t really make anything out of what it was. Seated just opposite Aunty Juliet was her brother (my husband) and then right beside my husband was me. Our facial expressions depicts equally being as excited. . I recognized this scene. It was a scene from twelve years ago. The very day Aunty Juliet handed us that early wedding present; the frame. To be continued... 4 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by leosmaria(m): 7:48am On Sep 29, 2022 |
Try de drop long or double update. Haven't read a story in a long while I love your story 2 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Moura7(m): 8:17am On Sep 30, 2022 |
Refreshing 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Peero1: 9:03am On Sep 30, 2022 |
Spiritualonyx: |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Peero1: 9:36am On Sep 30, 2022 |
[quote author=Peero1 post=117133201][/quote i dey follow your story and to be candid it's interesting] 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 8:51pm On Sep 30, 2022 |
Part 7 We received the frame that day, beaming. . This present from Aunty Juliet automatically sat up there as the best wedding gift, ever. Primarily because of its uniqueness, before it had anything to do with the person that'd handed is to us. . The work that’d gone into making this frame to turn out as exceptional as it did was obvious. It was also obvious that a lot of money had gone into this as well. This frame was absolutely nothing like I’d ever seen before. It was in that moment that I knew. I was going to place this frame at a spot where we’ll be waking up to the sight of it, every day for the rest of our lives. This frame was one of those items you just know would outlive you. It was that beautiful. . At the sight of how much we seemed to cherish this gift, from where Sandra and I stood, I could tell how very proud Aunty Juliet felt. She seemed really glad to hear; to know that we truly appreciated her present. . It was the day before my wedding. Every arrangement for this wedding had been made (done and dusted). We were just waiting for the day to break now; to get the occasion over with. Even though it’s now one week since Aunty Juliet presented me with that gift, I still couldn’t get enough of it. Every time it came up in a discussion, I went on and on professing my undying love. . My friends have been at my house now, for one week straight (all in preparation for my big day). Stacy (one of our friends) had just joined us that day. One thing led to the other, bringing up Aunty Juliet’s "early wedding present" into the mix again. Stacy could not wait to see this frame everyone had been singing about. Stacy was in awe; in reverence of its beauty. “I’ll be hanging it on my wall so I can wake up to the sight of it every day for the rest of my life”. I said to my girls, giggling. We all cheered. Everyone was in agreement that this item was indeed, worth all the hype. Ngozi couldn’t even hide her jealousy. “I hope Ebuka’s sister will see this one now o. And do the needful during our marriage” she said, sending everyone into an uproar. . It was at this point that Sandra pointed towards Franka. . Now, Franka is my best friend. We’ve been friends for the better part of my adult life. Franka has been in my life since I can remember. We’ve always been there for each other through the good times and bad. My shoulders have always been available for Franka to cry on, every time she'd ever needed it. This was mostly after a guy brakes her heart (which was very often by the way). . Prior to my husband and I deciding to take our relationship to the next level, Franka had just come out of a relationship. It was a very bad breakup. We’d discovered that her fiancée was to marry another. We found this out just one week to the wedding. The heartless man was in town the day before and we'd all hung out. We had a great time before he left the next day while still making future plans with Franka. It was after he’d left that we found out that he was scheduled to walk another girl down the aisle the following week. . I couldn’t get Franka to stop crying. . That was her eight failed attempt to settle down. . It was barely two weeks after that incident that I announced to Franka, that my wedding date had been fixed. As my best friend, she automatically got the “chief bridesmaid's” spot. . I had no idea what it was about Franka that Sandra needed me to see but since nothing up until this point was making any real sense to me yet, I decided to play along. I looked as pointed and that was when I noticed something even more confusing. . Franka would smile whenever I was looking and then frown whenever I wasn’t. As I spoke passionately about Aunty Juliet’s gift, amongst other plans my husband and I already made for immediately after I’d said “I do”, every indication from Franka’s countenance every time I wasn’t looking strongly depicted “not happy”. . My confusion with this lied in the fact that I didn’t know whether Franka was not happy that I was getting married to the man of my dreams or the fact that I went on and on supposedly rubbing my excitement on her face. It was “my big day” for crying out loud. How else was I supposed to have been, if not overly excited? . Every time I (and the other girls) was not looking, Sandra would scan me from head to toe in a fast blink before she transcends into a masked smile again, whenever her face came under the lights. . Whatever Sandra had in stock for me in this trip down memory lane, at this point, none of it was coming into perspective. Well, none of this made any sense to me until Sandra dragged me into a room; my bedroom. . I stood and watched in bemusement as Franka tiptoed past Sandra and I. I stood there with my mouth agape because none of this memory was mine. I was more than confused at the sight of this. “I can’t remember Franka ever entering this room before fa�" To be continued... 2 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Wande22(m): 12:10am On Oct 01, 2022 |
Deeply Touched...... I had a Sandra encounter recently (though the flogging part wasn't there and the person is not yabaleft candidate) 2 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 9:44am On Oct 01, 2022 |
Part 8 I couldn’t really remember where I nor everyone else was, at this moment. I wondered what excuse Franka must have given us before she excused herself to sneak into my room. . I stood, holding my breath watching, as Franka went through my stuff. . I stood in utmost bemusement at the sight of a rattled up Franka, as she constantly looked over her shoulder to be sure no one was watching; coming. . “What are you doing in my room, Franka?” I asked, confusingly, forgetting that there was no way she could hear me. . I tuned to lock gaze with Sandra but all she did was motion back at Franka. . With every indication now pointing towards “something was about to go down”, I braced myself for what I feared could very well be a disappointing discovery about Franka. It was not long before my eyes were almost popping out of its socket in disbelief. . At this point, even though I now knew what was playing out in front of me, I honestly prayed; hoped that it wasn’t as it seemed. . No wonder we mysteriously couldn’t find this item on my wedding day and had to hurriedly find a replacement. (A moment that almost ruined my wedding day)”. . I watched in utter astonishment as Franka first smeared something all over my wedding gown. From the angle Sandra and I stood, I couldn’t really figure out what exactly Franka had in hand to have figured out what she had set out to achieve with this act. It was a liquid substance though. So out of curiosity, I decided to go a little closer; to get a better view of this. . I wasn’t sure if it had always been the plan or it was after a second thought, because Franka suddenly stopped smearing (whatever that substance was, all over my wedding gown). Franka immediately reached and ripped out my wedding dress from the wardrobe where it'd been hanging. Franka shoved my very expensive wedding gown into the “Ghana must go” bag she’d seemingly came with. . I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t believe any of this. . “Oh my God! Franka! Ha! So na you? Wetin I don ever do you to deserve this Kain thing na? Where you carry my wedding gown dey go?” I exclaimed in a blend of being livid, shocked and almost attempting to even get physical with her before I remembered again that there was no way Franka could hear me. . Even the bag that Franka had whisked my wedding dress away in, wouldn’t have been enough to pack my jaw that was at this very moment, on the floor. . I stood in utter disbelief as Franka walked past Sandra and I as fast as her legs could ferry. . I watched as Franka seemed the sorriest for me the next day, upon discovery that my wedding gown was nowhere to be found. I watched from where I stood, as Franka brought out her cell phone and helped in making necessary arrangements for the replacement of my lost wedding dress. . From where I stood, I could observe from my facial expression to the sight of Franka doing all of these. It was nothing short of gratitude. I remember that very moment vividly. I remember feeling so blessed to have met Franka; to have had her in my life, as a friend. . “What would I have done without Franka that day?” I kept thinking to myself. . Rivulets of tears rolled down my cheeks from where Sandra and I stood, as I watched Franka struggle to fit me into this new replacement (for a wedding gown). . I watched as Franka let out a smirk, when it was very obvious that this new (replaced) wedding gown was nothing close to being as expected of a bride my status. . I swear, we came very close to either postponing or pushing forward this wedding because of that singular act. It was rather strange. Very strange because never had it been heard before that a wedding gown went missing before the wedding. . I always reminded my husband that if it wasn’t for Franka, he either wouldn’t have had me as a bride right now (out of the embarrassment I might have caused him that day) or he would have had to wait another week to hear me say “I do”. "All your thanks should go to Franka, baby". I'll often tell John. . I’d never felt more betrayed in my entire life. . Franka has remained a part of my life till this very moment and I didn’t know how bitter her heart had been towards me, until now. . “But why?” I asked, staring at Sandra who was also staring back, with a straight face. . Sandra got hold of my hand and pulled me into another room. In here, I saw a pile of wrapped up items; my wedding gifts. I recognized this room. It was Aunty Juliet’s room. Because Aunty Juliet is more like family than she is, a sister-in-law, I’d happily placed her in charge of collecting and keeping all my wedding gifts (which explained a lot). I was still trying to wrap my head around why Sandra would bring me into an empty room to stare at wrappers; wedding gifts, when suddenly, right in front of my very eyes, like a scene from a horror movie, I saw what looked like a very dark cloud hovering over these items. I was certainly terrified at the sight of this. I was about taking to my heels when Sandra grabbed me by my arm, clenching tightly unto it. I turned swiftly to express displeasure and hopefully break loose, then continue running to nowhere exactly (as long as it was far away from this strange manifestation) only to meet Sandra's straight face; a hand stretched out; a finger pointing towards a direction in a manner that strongly depicted trying to direct my gaze. Instinctively, I looked towards the direction Sandra had pointed and there she was, "my nemesis". . Sitting in front of a mirror chanting what was best described as an incantation; sending what appeared to be spiritual forces into my wedding gift one after the other, was a strange figure; a woman who shuffled between seeming a “shadow cast” and being human. She had a veil on, so I couldn’t really get a good look at her face. . Sandra encouraged me to get closer; to have a clearer look. With every step I took towards this strange figure, my heartbeat increased. . I finally got close enough. At this close a range, there was no way I wouldn't have recognized this woman. How could I not have recognized the woman that gave me life. "Mama�?" “Oh my God! It can't be”. To be continued... A big shout out to those that have been following this story I love � you'll real big. . . Ps - I'm new on Nairaland and I'll still trying to understand how it works, reasons why Ive not been replying or tagging people. Big hugs � readers... 3 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Royalty189(f): 11:49am On Oct 01, 2022 |
You're doing very well. Keep it up. Your story piece is beautiful. 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Wande22(m): 4:23pm On Oct 01, 2022 |
More oyel to your lamp ma'am 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 5:25pm On Oct 01, 2022 |
Part 9 Mama had a facial expression on, that depicted utter evil. She was so engulfed in this act that she barely blinked. . Mama went on and on chanting these incantations as the black cloud got thicker. . I was shocked to see my mother in the mix. . Just to make sense of the situation, at first, I chose not to believe the obvious. Instead of affiliating mama to being the cause of this dark cloud that was hovering over my wedding gifts; seemingly casting a spell on them, I chose to believe that my mother (just live every mother would) was only trying to be the solution. . I turned my head to Sandra’s direction and locked gaze. As though she was reading my mind, Sandra shook her head in a supposed response to my thoughts, still with a straight face. . "The iniquities of the fathers are visited upon the sons and daughters unto the third and fourth generation. You are just the first, my daughter. You should count yourself lucky that you don't have any siblings left. You should thank your stars that you don't have any offspring either. No one else would have to suffer (innocently) as a result of what this evil woman has done." Sandra said, pointing to my mother. . My jaw was again, on the floor in disbelief. . The more I stood staring at my mother, the more I became aware of my present situation. I reached for mama; to take her hand in a bid to break whatever this was. . Mama’s face was still very much fixed in the mirror the whole time. . I'd not forgotten that I couldn't make any physical contact with anyone in this realm. I was only being hopeful that Mama could be that exception. . I felt a hand, grab my arm just before I could completely reach for my mother. “Get up!” was the word I heard, over and over again in a very faint distant voice. . I opened my eyes and began to look around in a bid to establish presence; self-awareness. . The first thing I noticed after I'd fully regained consciousness was that I am still in my compound. The house was still as empty as I remembered. Sandra was still standing right in front of me, looking exactly as I remembered (that unkept mad woman). The frame I'd smashed earlier was still burning right next to me and to my surprise, it had only just begun to burn. . "How is this even possible?" It felt like I'd been “out” for weeks or dreaming for months fa. "Was I even dreaming? Was I dead and only just came back alive? How long have I been out? Why is this frame taking so long to burn? Did it just start burning?" Were all the confusing questions I couldn't get Sandra to answer. . Apparently, I’d only been out for a few seconds. . Sandra got into her "mad woman" mode once again and began to mutter words. Sandra kept on murmuring a particular name, over and over again. The name didn't ring a bell. It couldn’t have. I had no idea what the significance of this name was, to my situation. . “What are you trying to tell me now, Sandra?” I asked, having now fully come to accept the fact that this woman might just be “God’s sent” to me, after all. . I listened closely to the name Sandra was muttering only to discover that it had suddenly switched to another, then another. It was Blessing, Raphael, Cynthia and then Joseph. These names sounded nonsensical at first, because they were just random names. I didn’t know if these names had anything to do with my present situation or if this was Sandra, simply being mad. . “Even if these people might somehow have had one thing or the other to do with my current situation, how was just hearing their names supposed to put everything into perspective na?” . As faith would have it, almost around the same time as I was almost joining Sandra in her craft, our gate threw open and behold, emerging out of nowhere after what had been ages since we last saw, was Aunty Esther (my mother’s youngest sister). . Aunty Esther was the last person I could ever have expected to walk through that gate. We'd not seen since the day after my wedding. . Aunty Esther is my favorite aunt and the only remaining extended family I have, alive. It was not easy at first, but i eventually I came to live with what soon became my reality. Which was the fact that I'd been dejected by my favorite Aunty; the only true family I have, alive. . I watched as Aunty Esther struggled with her balance (a result of old age), as she approached Sandra and I from the gate. . Aunty Esther’s eyes went wide upon seeing a mad woman and I, seemingly engaged in a conversation. . Sandra ran out of the compound immediately Aunty Esther and I hugged each other. I tried to run after Sandra in an attempt to ask for clarity on the puzzle she’d left me with but she was far gone in no time. . Aunty Esther wondered what my affiliation with a mad woman was. . Aunty Esther was overly concerned about the bruises, especially in my arms; from Sandra’s lashes. It was very glaring on me. . Aunty Esther demanded to know what exactly happened to me and even more so, why I’d open the gate of the house to a woman looking as deranged as Sandra. . After Aunty Esther had settled, I went ahead to narrate my encounter with Sandra, to her. I didn’t leave a single thing out. Aunty Esther outrightly got the plot in my story. . “Sandra is no ordinary woman. No doubt, she is mad but her level of spirituality even in that state, is unmatched. I’ve seen and have had a swing with a couple of her kind during my lifetime."Aunty Esther said. . Aunty Esther took a second to catch her breath. Then heaved a deep sigh, after seemingly journeyed into the past. . “I’ve feared for a very long time that this day might come. I wish your mother was still alive to see the works of her hands in your life. I wish she was still around to see the result of not listening; not knowing where to draw the boundary to her cruelty; cruelty that transcended into evil.” . Aunty Esther stared me deep in the eyes with a facial expression that clearly depicted pity,before proceeding to ask, “Do you often walk into spider webs even in awkward places? I am talking places where a spider web should never have been". . "How did she know?" I asked myself. To be continued... 4 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by zorse: 8:37pm On Oct 01, 2022 |
Great story! Following... 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 8:55pm On Oct 01, 2022 |
Part 10 "How your mother turned out different from the rest of us is the perfect description of nature versus nurture. Our mother; your grandmother never stopped regretting that singular decision to give your mother out to another woman; to bring up, all in the name of we could use all the help we can get. Our father died early, leaving our mother with five mouths to feed. It was not as though he already had establishments that assured we’d be very well catered for after his demise. We had to practically feed from hand to mouth. We all dropped out of school shortly after he died. Our mother’s petty trading was barely able to do much and so when the offer to take your mother away to another city came, our mother didn’t really see the need to think twice about it. It came more as a huge relief. It meant one less mouth to feed. The promise to put your mother back in school and during holidays, ensure that she learned a skill, was more than enough reason to win our mother’s heart. I believe that decision was birthed primarily from a heart that wanted the best for her daughter, even though it turned out to be a very bad one. Your mother left for the city with a woman we all knew as Aunty D (Dorcas)…” . Aunty Esther readjusted her seating position, then continued. . “…Mama obviously knew Aunty D more because, I want to believe that she couldn't have given out her daughter to this woman if she didn't know her well enough. Your mother was around ten; eleven years old at the time. Her departure that day left every one of us in tears. We were so young at the time. Something about this departure felt different. It felt strange. This was not the first time one of us would be traveling, only to return after a period of time but this particular farewell felt different. It was as though we somehow all knew that a version of the sister we've grown up to know and love, was dying that day. I remember clenching tightly to your mother, begging her not to leave and even if she must, take me with. To everyone, it felt more like children, just being overly dramatic. Your mother left that day and for years unend, none of us; her siblings heard from or saw her. We didn't get to see your mother again until a few months before her wedding to your father..." . Aunty Esther began to cough at this point. I sprung up to fetch her some water. I watched as Aunty Esther gulped down every drop from the cup of water I'd handed to her. . Before Aunty Esther made to continue from where she'd stop in her story, I quickly interrupted. "...wait Aunty! My mother left at that early age of eleven and didn't come back home again until she was preparing to get married? I don’t understand. Was that a collective decision? I mean, was it an arrangement of some sort between grandma and Aunty D? . I had no plans of missing out on any tiny detail. . Before Aunty Esther was even able to answer my question, I added a couple more. I really needed to get things straight because something about Aunty Esther's story wasn't just adding up. . "How old was my mother when she got married to my father? How long exactly did you know my father for, before he eventually walked my mother down the aisle? Were you all still at the same location she remembered, at the time? How did she locate you? This is assuming she’d lost contact in the first place, to have stayed that long before a reunion." Aunty Esther smiled, obviously at my curiosity and more so, probably wondering how I’d expected her to answer all these questions, especially as it seemed as though I needed answers to them all at once. . Aunty Esther didn’t even bother to ask which of my questions I’ll prefer she answered first. She just dove right into the one she could. . "It's our father's house. It's not like we could move it to wherever we choose when we think we'd been at a location for too long, you know. I remember I was already in my second year in the university at the time. Your mother was in her later twenties when she got married to your father. If there was an understanding between Aunty D and mama that your mother would not come back home, at least to see us every now and then, I certainly didn’t get the memo. Maybe it had something to do with how young we were at the time. Because your mother was away for so long, I almost forgot that I had a sister like her, until that day; the day she finally showed up…” “...alone? I mean, did she come home alone or was that the same day you met my dad?" . "That was the day we all met Abel." Aunty Esther said, before she went silent for a couple of seconds. "Is anything the matter, Aunty?". I asked, haven noticed Aunty Esther's sudden change in countenance. . "Abel put your mother up to everything; everything that have ultimately led to your present situation. Abel led your mother down the part that took the lives of your other siblings. It was not mare coincidence that she died while giving birth to you. Neither was it a coincidence that your father died just three days after your birth. It was always predetermined but with the hope that your life wouldn't take this route..." "...wait! What?" To be continued... 3 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Benteazaa(m): 10:24pm On Oct 01, 2022 |
I like it, gimme 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by tahir01(m): 7:05am On Oct 02, 2022 |
What a story. More updates please 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Sharoniah(f): 1:05pm On Oct 02, 2022 |
I like the twists and turns it's taking 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 1:35pm On Oct 02, 2022 |
Part 11 “No one ever suspected that there could have been something extraordinary behind Aunty D’s successful cocoa plantation. Everyone simply affiliated her success to grace. Whatever she lays her hands on, prospers; everyone would often say. Making Aunty D the envy of fellow cocoa farmers; farmers who toiled the hardest but reaped the least. It was after your mother came of age that Aunty D supposedly let her in on the secret behind their prosperity. Aunty D made sure your mother knew that, she wasn’t just sharing this information with her just for the love of sharing but because she needed your mother to brace up and be prepared to do what needed to be done when her time comes; when she eventually takes her over the business. Aunty D told your mother that day, that the secret behind their bountiful harvests, year after year, had been because she knew what the price of success was and had been paying it diligently for as long as she could remember…” . At this point in Aunty Esther’s story, I already knew what to expect. Every indication now points towards “one thing” and I doubt that there could be any more twist to this. . I was not wrong. It was indeed as I’d presumed. A human sacrifice was usually required to get all the bountiful harvest Aunty D was synonymous for. . Haven already seen this part in Aunty Esther’s story coming from miles away, I’d almost resolved within me that though shocking, there couldn't have been anything more shocking to come after this revelation, but I was never more wrong. . “…for this plantation to yield as much fruit as Aunty D wanted, certain rituals needed to be done. These rituals; sacrifices was nothing like you’d have imagined. Aunty D's cocoa plantation does not need just any blood. No! It does not need a random sex, either. It had an age range and this was for a specific purpose. Aunty D’s victims had to be female; they had to be a little above fifty years of age; every murder had to be done at a specific spot in the farm; every murder had to be carried out in a specific way…” . I sat there unsure exactly what I was hearing. . At this point in Aunty Esther’s story, I could have sworn that this was one of those fairy tales we hear on a daily basis. . “There is no way any of these could have been true na!” I said to myself. . I mean, let’s put aside the whole feminist movement for a second. I can’t imagine a woman capable of being this mean. No offence, but everything Aunty Esther was saying; everything I heard, were things I’ve always only known men capable of and never had I imagined that a woman could have the heart to do something as cruel as these. Talk more, an affiliation of my mom's. . Aunty Esther went on to tell me that, for these sacrifices to be as potent as expected of them, Aunty D was expected to have had a relationship with these people; earned their trust; be top, on their good grades and very importantly; more important than all the aforementioned, these victims must be very vocal in laying curses on Aunty D, while she carried out these heinous crimes. . Yeah! You read right. . Apparently, these victims are expected to be laying curses on Aunty D upon every blow; cut or whatever the means of killing, Aunty D had devised. . The closer these victims are to Aunty D; the more gruesome these deaths are; the heavier the curses lashed out at Aunty D is, the more bountiful the harvest to come, promises. . “Aunty D was still very much alive when your mother took over the business. Your father who was supposed to have been the voice of reason; that person who should have been able to call your mother to order, supported her like a real man should support his ambitious wife. Your father was everything a woman prays for in a life partner as support but unfortunately, he was the right man in the wrong way with your mother. Your mother was known to be very kind hearted. She was very generous too. She was loved by everyone. All these, your mother did, just so she could win as many hearts as possible, over. Making her choice and job of keeping her ritual potent whenever she fingers one out from these multitude, easy…” . Aunty Esther was beginning to strike a very “unbelievable cord” with her story. She appeared to know too much. “There is no way my mother could have sat Aunty Esther down to tell her all of these. Not in this much detail.” I thought to myself . I’d thought about it. I’d thought to ask but didn’t think it'd be a good idea at the time. Aunty Esther must not misinterpret my skepticism for these stories to being a total doubt of its credibility. . “Remember the names you told me that Sandra was murmuring moments ago; the ones you said were random and seemingly nonsensical? Blessing, Raphael, Cynthia and then Joseph? Those names are not so random after all. They are names of your mother’s victims…” . I made to interrupt Aunty Esther. I was just about to ask what made these names so special to have made it to Sandra’s lips amongst the lots I could only have assumed that my mother had killed over time, but at this point, Aunty Esther wouldn’t let me. . “…remember I’d earlier told you that Aunty D's victims had to be females because it was what the ritual demanded? Noticed how two, out of the names Sandra mentioned are male…?” "...I was going to ask..." "...that is because your mother took hers to the next level." To be continued... 3 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by mitchelle16(f): 2:44pm On Oct 02, 2022 |
Please come and continue, very captivating 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Wande22(m): 5:37pm On Oct 02, 2022 |
Spiritualonyx tbh, this diary is top notch. Nnkan be looto 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Sharoniah(f): 12:08pm On Oct 03, 2022 |
One bag of popcorn needed at the front seat : 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 1:18pm On Oct 03, 2022 |
Part 12 “Your mother set out to uphold Aunty D’s legacy. She did very well in her first few years in charge. Aunty D was impressed but your mother wasn’t. She wanted more. Your mother didn’t just want to walk in Aunty D’s shoes. She felt the need to surpass Aunty D’s legacy. During one of her yearly visits to the source of Aunty D’s wealth, she inquired from Baba, what she could do to make Aunty D’s rein, a child’s play compared to hers in the business, then sought to do whatever it took. Baba asked your mother over and over again, if she was sure about her request. Your mother responded in the affirmative. Baba asked what she needed more money and fame for, especially since she was at the time already the only known name in the region; in the business. Baba went on to give your mother a long list of things she needed to bring for this transcending ritual. Your mother had taken over from Aunty D, thereby, standing upon all protocols already observed. But for your mother to level up, she was required to fully perform all the ritual; the rights Aunty D had earlier done, during her time. Your mother was then expected to go through another phase of ritual; fortifications, inducting her into the level of power she’d soughted…” . I could not believe that all of these stories were about my mother; the woman that bore me; gave me life. I couldn’t believe that all of these scary tales were about a woman I could have grown up to call, mother. . I grew up knowing very well that the woman who'd raised me was not my biological mother. . “Mummy Philo”, like we all often call her (my foster mother) tried her best to be the mother I never had. But you know, it can never equate the love of a parent, if it isn’t from a biological parent. . My foster mother was very mean to me. She would never pass on an opportunity to rub how unfortunate my situation was, on my face. Especially when I’d done something supposedly terrible. . My foster mother had my biological mother’s picture enlarged in a frame. This frame she showed me every now and then, while raining derogatory words on me, reminding me of how miserable a life I was bound to live until she came to my aid. . My mother wore exactly the same cloth as she did in that picture, in my trance. . My foster mother would often segregate me from her kids, making me wonder what it was about me that she’d detested so much. . Everything at this point in Aunty Esther's story began to make sense. It explained quite a lot. . My foster mother must have known or heard about my biological mom. These knowledge must have been the reason for her cruelty towards me. I probably constantly reminded her of my mother. She had to have heard that my mother was this terrible. That is the only way any of those experiences could have made sense. . Aunty Esther’s story about my mother was beginning to sound more fiction than it was, true. . Somewhere in all of these, supposedly laid the genesis of the problems I’ve had to face all my life and more so, for the past twelve years. . “…It was during that transcendence that your mother was tasked to bring five of the closest people in her life for this ritual; sacrifice. Your mother had to. She had come too far at the time, to go back. It was now either she went through with anything she was told to do or she faced the repercussions. But your mother was not even ready to back out at any point. Your mother insisted that she was willing to pay any price to get the money, power and fame she so much craved. You father weirdly, fully supported her every step of the way. Your mother presented five names. Four out of these five were to be chosen. Four people from these five names were to serve as sacrifice, transcending your mother into spiritual heights beyond human comprehension; beyond what anyone could ever have imagined..." . Even though I knew that the names Sandra had mentioned earlier, most likely fell under these names Aunty Esther was talking about, I still couldn't wait to hear her mention them. I couldn't wait to know who these people were and how close they were to my mother. But more than anything else, I couldn't wait to ask; to verify; to have Aunty Esther clarify the one thing I'd been dying to know since she started this story. "How in heaven's name do you know this much? How do you know all of these and in such detail?" . I swear, this question was in my lips the whole time; all through the time I sat there with my eyes fixated at Aunty Esther's lips as they parted for words. I'd only held back because again, I didn't want my supposed skepticism to cut across as complete diselief in the credibility of Aunty Esther's story. . "...Hmmn. Your mother out did herself when the first name on her list happened to be Aunty D's..." To be continued... A very big 'Thank You' to you'll for replying and liking this story. Thank you ❣️� I'll try and drop three updates today. Meanwhile, drop your replies on what you think would happen next. 4 Likes |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by Spiritualonyx(f): 4:19pm On Oct 03, 2022 |
Part 13 “The choice to sacrifice Aunty D didn’t come as a big shock. Aunty D was the closest person alive to your mother at the time. So close, your father couldn't even have s.x with your mother sometimes if Aunty D did not sanction it. Your mother had grown to be the absolute mirror of Aunty D. For her to have attained the height she sorted, doing away with Aunty D was just inevitable. It was going to be as though shedding one's skin to take on another …” . If these two were this close, I could only have imagined how my mother was able to stare Aunty D in the eye, while she went on with this plan to; to use Aunty D for rituals. I could only imagine what was going on in my mother’s mind when she went on to do as planned; to sacrifice Aunty D, the only woman who seemed to really “get her”. The woman whose business she had inherited; a woman who'd passed her the baton; a woman she now hopes to surpass in terms of prosperity. I guess it’s true what they say about the evil… “…evil that men do, lives after them” Aunty Esther suddenly muttered, as though haven read my mind, spitting those words right out of my mouth. . Aunty Esther went ahead to give me a vivid description of the gruesome murder of Aunty D. I couldn’t believe my ears. I couldn’t believe that my mother could have had the mind to do any of those to anyone, talk more, the woman that literally gave her identity. . “This transcending ritual was to last four days. One out of the four names your mother had selected must die each day. The first name on the list had to be the last person to die and his or her death must be the most gruesome. Its just the way it had to be. That happened to be Aunty D. Your mother was up all night, the night before that day; the last day; the day Aunty D was scheduled to die. At this point, your mother was close to being heartless. The three people she'd sacrificed prior to this moment were also quiet close to her heart. I mean, one of those was our elder brother; the only man that could go to the moon and back for your mother; the only man that couldn't bear to hear anyone speak ill of your mother; not in his presence. Our elder brother was the saddest, when your mother had to leave with Aunty D. So imagine who the happiest amongst us was, when your mother finally made that epic come back. His death was equally as gruesome but Aunty D's had to be the most gruesome; the crown on all of these..." . My jaw had not left the floor in disbelief, since this part in Aunty Esther's story. "No way! No way any of these is true. It can't be. There is no way a woman can ever be capable of these kind of atrocity. No! No way. Definitely not my mother". I kept thinking to myself as I watched Aunty Esther readjust her seating positing, before she began to narrate to me, Aunty D's death. . Aunty D's death was indeed, gruesome. Apparently, my mother had invited Aunty D into the farm that faithful evening. She had, with the story of wanting Aunty D to see how the crops were growing, different from the previous years. Out of curiosity; having been in the business for so long and never for once had experienced what my mother had described of this year's growth in production, Aunty D needed to see things for herself. Though now very old, she still managed. . The cocoa plantation was obviously a huge one, so it was no easy walk. As they walked through the plantation, Aunty D noticed these fresh kills (the sacrifices for the last three days) and the horror to how they'd been killed, different from what she was used to, caused her to jerk in fear, especially since she wasn't expecting to see any of these in the land; not today. Besides, my mother never told Aunty D anything about a recent sacrifice that needed to be done for the growth of this plantation (something she always does). Besides, from Aunty D's calculations, the yearly ritual; sacrifices for these plantation wasn't due for another month or two. It was in that moment that Aunty D knew that all was not well. Aunty D turned towards my mother without uttering a word but certainly hoping to get an explanation for all of these, only to meet a straight face. A face devoid of any expression or emotions. . As Aunty D stared down my mother, I bet something within her knew in that instant, that this was not the woman she brought up; that something terrible was about to happen. . Aunty D was too old to run even if she had wanted to take a chance. . The sight of my mother suddenly scared her so much, she made to scream "What is going on here" but couldn't find the voice to. . It was at this point, my mother pulled out a sheet of paper; a papers were in she'd prepared a speech. Yeah! Speech. The sick woman thought she at least, owed Aunty D some explanations before she carried on with her business of the day. . "I want to use this opportunity to thank you for all you've done for me, Aunty D. I'll never be who I am or where I am today, without you. For that, I'll forever be grateful. It is the dream of every parent to be alive to see their children surpass them in accomplishments, Aunty D. It breaks my heart that in your case, that greater accomplishment can only be birthed from the inception of your demise. This means even though you'd wish it, you can't; you won't see me surpass you. But that's fine. You shall exit this world knowing that your last moment here on earth gave birth to a better me." My mother said, as she drew Aunty D in for a hug before she went ahead to detach Aunty D's ear with a razor blade. . It was with that razor blade, my mother took her time to literally, skin Aunty D alive. . "Remember that the primary aim of these gruesome murders is to give the victims a chance to be very vocal in laying curses upon their murderer. The more gruesome these kills are, the more time the dying victims have to either utter or mutter these words; these curses." . Apparently, Aunty D had laid a curse on my mother that day, after seeing what she'd created in her. . Weirdly, Aunty D didn't want any of us to take after our mother, so she'd laid the curse that ensured my mother died shortly after my birth and my father, only days later. . "But how could a woman who had committed a lot of atrocities during her time lay a curse that turned out valid?" I finally managed to mutter, out of confusion; a serious need to understand. . "We all have two spirits in us, right from inception. The good and the bad. Depending on what your understanding of Good is from Bad, you have a chance to choose a part. A part that something as little as a cold or warm water bath can regulate..." "...what are you talking about Aunty?" I asked, confused. . "Not everyone who walks around with a fowl smell have body odor, my daughter. Some of these smells are as a result of their constant fight to detach themselves from one of these spirits". To be continued... 1 Like |
| Re: Based On A True Life Story by elpochas: 6:50pm On Oct 03, 2022 |
Ur story is so spiritual.Evil begath Evil. 1 Like |
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