just2day:


I tell myself these kind of comments don't affect me. One of the biggest lies I tell myself. I do have a lot of doubt in my abilities as many writers do.

These sorts of comment do help writers to fight those doubts so to that I say thank you a lot, won't let it get to my head (lol) and I hope the story remains intriguing for a little while longer

Sir, you are truly gifted I swear down and ur diction are second to none... please, what's ur secret??

Whatever and however way the writer wants to end this story, Bisi must not die. In fact, nobody needs to die. Please, let all end well.

Great story. Feels very true. I can relate to a few events. Kudos just2day!

Niceeee one op! ��

This is highly intriguing, beautiful imagery keep up the good work, kudos.

Just2day, are you a dude or a female? Just curious. You are not a bad writer though.



So, I believe the best way to prevent these kind of situation is to make an oath with one's self beforehand.

The next best way is to understand that your body is owned by your married partner, not just you. You won't give your wife's body to a stranger, so equally don't think she'll give yours to a strange female.

Lastly, if after all these measures I still betray my wife, which I'm hoping I don't, I'll give her a gun to make me 'gone'.


Something must to kill a man, and most times, it's a woman.

ogene007:
Whatever and however way the writer wants to end this story, Bisi must not die. In fact, nobody needs to die. Please, let all end well.

From the first chapter abi episode, Zainab was killed.

INDUSTRIALFAN:
and it is such a rare opportunity to get sth this good to read here.

BTW.... I won't mind the experiment o.... Just be sure the lady we intend to use is as pretty and alluring as Bisi has been described...

Lolz, as pretty and alluring as fictional Bisi, that is a tall order. Feels good to have ones story evoke such a warm reception.

Yeah, we are less than a few chapters from the beginning. Circles are fascinating

Taniaa:
For a first timer to come up with such a story and ends it in tragedy is a crowd puller indeed... an impressive feat exposing your budding talent.
Who didn't notice?
Ask the literacy giants

There is a tiny breath in all of us that longs for a tragedy even as we deny its existence. The Greeks understood how to scratch that itch.

Your encouraging words are deeply appreciated

davidgrace:
We are all following this story has kept me glued to my phone I am really enjoying it . Weldon op keep it up.

This, my friend, are truly motivating lines. Nice to not have to ride this roller coaster alone. Thanks

superpauL:

Sir, you are truly gifted I swear down and ur diction are second to none... please, what's ur secret??

Sir, you have a honeyed tongue that made me blush. For a minute I'll allow my mind believe there is no exaggeration and just enjoy it. Thank you

I still have much to learn. Not an intriguing or juicy secret. I guess my influences are the many English and translated works from varying cultures I've been lucky enough to immerse myself in which helped shape my mind to see beyond the horizon and accept white as black and black an exploding sun

I had a box just for wishes and dreams that had never come true; the box is now empty except for the memory of how they were answered by you

TANGENT - Well we broke through 20,000 views and have gone well beyond the handful I looked for to keep the story going. As a 'dare I call myself' writer, what more can one hope for but to find those who will relish ones creation


BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 46

She sat there, the bed missing the cuffs that had once held him prisoner. The bathroom door stood open, pill bottles violently thrown all over the tiles. Namdi held his place at the entrance to the room that had tested his will and found him lacking. To his left a table held a vase full of rose stems, their petals absent. Above, an air conditioner kept silent, its services redundant. 

"I wasn't sure you would come. If only I had enough time maybe..."

A sad bitter smile faced a barren wall, in it a complexity words failed to capture. She did not turn around, her back being all Namdi would be given privy to. In her hand she held a pendant, the chain running along her neck.

"Time? It has to end Bisi, it's the only way she will forgive me."

"I once thought four months was more than enough; what wouldn't I give to double it... rather I prepare to curtail it."

"Wake up from the fantasy you've created Bisi."

"When it was just me it didn't matter but now your life is tied with mine..."

He moved forward, footsteps silent on the carpeted floor, his palm no longer empty. Her words left him confused but he did not dwell, shutting the door to his soul and steeling his heart. To the right was the table that had held his clothes. Only a glass and an open bottle of wine graced its surface now.

"She loves me."

"We love you..."

"Shut up!, Just, just, no more. I won't let you screw with my mind again."

"I only want you to see clearly Namdi."

"You call this seeing clearly?"

A less than human grunt escaped from his throat, hand wrapping tighter around the vase, his position less than an arms length away. Bisi had still not turned around, her heart having so much more to give, her mind clouded with an aura of despair.

"There is something I need you to know."

"No more games Bisi, I don't have the heart for it anymore."

"Our fates are written before we even see the paths open to us"

"I alone decide my fate."

"Do you? Pause and think for a second Namdi. We are merely pawns in the hands of..."

"I don't want to hear it!"

His roar drowned her out, arm swinging in a crude arc. The vase shattered against her head, blood seeping from a ghastly gash, rose stems in the air around her. On the bed she fell, the sheets taking its time to adopt a new color.

"I wa...nt to liv..e Na...mdi... I wis....h to liv..., for, for..."

Her words slurred, her consciousness stubbornly holding on, so much more she had to say. She struggled to push herself up from the bed only to fall back down. 

"She wants you dead."

Fingers found her neck, feeling the bite of a chain, achieving what she could not. Muscles bulged, lifting her off the sheets and slamming her against the wall; squeezing, cutting her ability to draw breath.

"S..t...o...p."

Bare feet hung suspended, unable to reach the floor. Weakly they kicked, hitting Namdi's shin to no effect, his eyes misty red, mind filled with blood lust. Red dripped from her hair, caught by the cuffs of his sleeves. Fingers reached up to pry away his vice like grip, a futile exercise. There was an unwillingness in her eyes that had been absent the last time he had held her neck in his hands. An unwillingness that struck a chord in Namdi, cutting through the fog filling his mind, allowing for a moment of lucidity. 

Soft brown eyes struggled to remain open. The room had long since faded away, replaced by a world of brilliance and nothingness. In the distance her mother called out, begging her to return or so her oxygen deprived brain told her. 'Mom' she thought, an arm reaching out to run a thumb along Namdi's cheek, leaving a smudge before falling limply to her side.

Namdi's grip went slack, his spirit drained, her body crumpling to the floor. 

twitter- @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

TANGENT - ogene007 I tried to find a way to make your words come true. For now it seems I might have failed. For that I can only say i'm sorry, sometimes the pen takes a life of its own

jasmine2013:
Great story. Feels very true. I can relate to a few events. Kudos just2day!

Relate to a few events... guess now I can add to the title "based on a true story".lolz

I hope your experiences weren't harrowing and you are stronger for it.

Thanks for the validation; can be difficult sometimes to anchor ones world in some semblance of reality, capturing the abstract while making scenes believable.

Thanks

Exoticmm:
Niceeee one op! ��

Glad you like it. Thanks for taking the time to comment

Missmossy:
This is highly intriguing, beautiful imagery keep up the good work, kudos.

I hope I do keep it up. Flowery words much appreciated. Those who see beauty are beautiful themselves

Boomboost:
Just2day, are you a dude or a female? Just curious. You are not a bad writer though.

So, I believe the best way to prevent these kind of situation is to make an oath with... Lastly, if after all these measures I still betray my wife, which I'm hoping I don't, I'll give her a gun to make me 'gone'.

Something must to kill a man, and most times, it's a woman.

'Dude or a female'... Is there a third option?

Thanks; what I'm most afraid of is being a terrible story teller, not bad is a plus in my book, forever room to improve

Lol, you really don't hold back any punches, having her gun you down. Your first kill sticks with you...

Preventing this kind of situation... Seduction, Desire can shut down the rational part of our mind, and husband gotta understand if I get a chance with Idris Elba, faithfulness goes on hold lol

As usual next chapter on Tuesday. Thanks for taking the time to read, comment and like

@just 2 day, great story so far n ds is well stated.

so I came in to find this awesome write-up.
Captivating, intriguing, maybe breathtaking
Nice one @just2day

Aybm:
@just 2 day, great story so far n ds is well stated.

Thank you for your kind words. Fingers crossed the story manages to be at least good by the end

dimssy:
so I came in to find this awesome write-up.
Captivating, intriguing, maybe breathtaking
Nice one @just2day

The best gems are those you stumble upon. Your words are very generous putting whatever modesty I possess to the test. I appreciate you taking the time to share

.

just2day:


The best gems are those you stumble upon. Your words are very generous putting whatever modesty I possess to the test. I appreciate you taking the time to share

Don't tell me that's the last update please!

just2day:
As usual next chapter on Tuesday. Thanks for taking the time to read, comment and like

Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday!!!

You know not the truth of who you are till you live your nightmare.

TANGENT - Today, my Initial CH 47 update I put up a couple hours ago got removed and I got banned from posting till 5:30 p.m. tomorrow. Checked in now and I Guess it got lifted.

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 47

One heart beat, rapid in its rhythm, weak in its disposition holding at bay the silence that should have been. Somewhere, in the vastness of the cosmos, a star succumbed to the throes of time. Reluctance, fear and a host of timeless emotions were absent in its explosion, dazzling the blackness of space around it with never before seen splendor. Above a house surrounded by the earths growth, unseen by blackened clouds, a single starry light shone brightly and winked out of existence.

On the bed he sat, unable to look down at what he knew lay before his feet. His eyes were faded and dry, his lips without a quiver. Hands remained clenched in a fist, one palm feeling the bite of metal; the other an uncomfortable stickiness. In his chest his heart still pumped. Whether what it pushed was still red, one could only guess. Something broke within him, he couldn't say what. Knees reached up to touch rib cage, fist blocking the world from his sight, body rocking back and forth for an unknown stretch. Feeling was lost, emotion tightly sequestered in a chamber of his soul he did not know he had. He was no longer Namdi, merely a shell that possessed motion and the most basic of thoughts.

Eyes opening to a world of grey, his body moved. Its goal the opened door leading to the bathroom, rose stems pushed aside unnoticed. As rug switched to tiles, his shoes crushed varying colored pills scattered around. In the silence they were discharging cannons, 21 in number, an unintended salute. He faced a sink, the drain unprotected, the counter top home to fallen empty and nearly empty pill bottles. Picking up a bottle he read the label, 'Herceptin'. Tossing it aside, he picked up another, 'Gardasil'; and another, and another, 'Afinitor', 'Xeloda', 'Avastin', 'Fentanyl'. Fentanyl remained in his hand, a shake rewarding him with the rattle of a few pills. Setting it down carefully he looked up to see a mirror that had always been there. On it a faded heart drawn in red with two smudged words within.

A shell of a man watched him, eyes lacking the vitality of the living, replaced with an unseen smolder. On his sunken cheek was a red smudge, similar in color to the fingers of one hand, giving his face a fierce but haunted presence. Curly black hair that had lost its shine hung limply on his head. Reaching down he opened the faucet, the running water pure; And clean; And untainted; its sound eradicating the silence. The temperature fell within the room, sharing its displeasure at the breaking of the tranquility that had just been achieved. He felt none of it, his hand dipping beneath the man made waterfall. A closed fist opened in a bid to wash the foreign entity off the other, forgetting it held something within. The clatter of metal hitting porcelain was crisp and clear. Instinctively he reached out, grabbing the chain before it was forever lost in the labyrinth beyond the rim of the drain, the attached pendant familiar in its design. Into his pocket it vanished.

Over and over he scrubbed his fingers but the red specter remained. Giving up he attacked the smudge on his cheek, achieving similar results. He began to feel a phantom ache. One he could not afford to let breathe air. Without a word his fist struck out, its target the man who watched him. Inches away from the mirror his strike stopped. The Fentanyl appeared in his palm before disappearing into his mouth and down his throat. How many, he was not sure. Water soon followed. The ache faded, tamped down, returning to the dull grey it had once become. Turning, he walked away from the image, the rattle of connecting chains unheard.

At the door to the room he stood, holding the handle, unable to take the step that would leave it all behind. As grey as the world had become there remained a bit of color crumpled on the floor. Though he did not look, a corner of his mind knew she was there, or was it it. A corner he refused to visit for only destruction waited for him. Still he could not turn that handle. Having no other recourse he walked back. In a world of grey she lay there in vibrant color. Breathtakingly beautiful in unadorned splendor. Her image burned into his mind, never to be forgotten, to live on till his last breath. Grabbing the opened wine and glass from the table he walked out, the handle turning with no hesitation, closing behind him trapping a drawn breath.

twitter - @just2days

email- just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

ogunholla:
Don't tell me that's the last update please!

Lol, hopefully not. I know what it's like to be waiting on an author. R.R. Martin if you beat the odds and see this, hope your writers block has been vanquished and we see Winds of winter this year

ChisomDgreatest:

Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday!!!

Lol, Technically still 4 hours left from time of this post and if I was in Alaska 12 hours. Your enthusiasm is greatly welcomed

Sir, this is a great work you have here. I commend your descriptive prowess, your affinity for details and skill in executing them in a fine manner is laudable. I am not a fan of vivid descriptions in prose, it stopped me from finishing Lord of The Flies by William Golding, however your style strung me to my phone and I must say your story is quite a captivating one, holding one to every last word of each chapter.

I hope you come to finish this work in no time and give us Bisi's intent to her tragic actions.

My comment about your work, even though unfinished. Namdi seems emasculated and he also dwells in a wall of intimidation, both by the love of his life and parents-in-law. When you kill another woman for your woman, you've successfully converted yourself to a pawn in your woman's arms, never to be looked at the same again, ever.
All his marital life he lived in determent, the consequence for which Bisi is. I shall stop here.

Please mention me on your next update.

Life is a circle. Once completed, it is up to memories to render one infinite

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN 48

Down the stairs and through the hall, the past his guide. He flung the door open, revealing a curtain of water and a world darker than the inkiness within. Namdi watched it fall, a one way trip from the heavens to the brown of the earth. Holding the glass, he tilted the wine bottle till the cup overflowed. It splashed onto the floor disappearing into the thirst driven dead wood. Half of its content still remained within the bottle. His hand held steady, the turbulent red sea becoming a flat surface. The calm did not match the torrent in front of him. A finger dipped, making contact with the still surface ever so slightly. Ripples spread from whence he touched, breaking the calm into growing red rings escaping his influence. The glass smashed against the wall, wine dribbling, painting the falling rain in crimson. The bottle met his lips as he drank deeply. It flowed down his throat, warming him with a spiciness he was unfamiliar with. Not giving it a second thought he flung the nearly empty bottle to the rain in offering and ran for his car without ever looking back. He hastened away from the house, his grey world slowly filling with color, an ache creeping from a chamber in his soul to fill and weigh his heart. Behind, the house remained, headlamps driving away some of the gloom.

Rain fell heavily on a parked Mercedes. Its headlamps twin swords piercing the darkness, illuminating every tear falling from the heavens. Smoke rose from the exhaust, evidence of a silently purring engine. Inside was a single man, face buried in his hands. As the heavens cried, so did he. Freely his tears fell, pooling in his rough palms only to be absorbed by the cuffs of his work shirt already stained red

Seconds ticked on, the tears coming to an end. Lifting up his head, the mans gaze fell on the I.D. card hanging from the rear view mirror. He could barely remember the man in the picture. Still, the name Namdi printed under the photograph was his. Lightning struck, driving away the darkness for a moment, revealing an extravagant two story home less than a mile away. Putting the car in gear, Namdi drove up to the front door.

Stepping out of the car Namdi couldn’t help but watch the rain falling a few feet away from him. With a heavy heart he turned away walking slowly to the mahogany door. They had picked it together. It was meant to be a surprise. He never expected it to be the gateway to more than a home. Looking at the door, Namdi’s heart grew heavier as he fished for his house keys. He stood there about to lose himself to the bittersweet memories of the past when the door swung open.

There was no surprise on Namdi’s face when the door revealed a beautiful ebony woman. Even now in an empty house she wore heels, giving her 5ft5 frame an extra 5 inches. Still, he would need to tilt her chin up to kiss her. Her lips – painted blood red – slowly curved into a slight smile as she saw Namdi. They parted slightly, a lovely voice floating to his ears dripping with honey

"I see her blood on your shirt, very good. Dinner is ready."

Turning around, she disappeared into the house a violet fragrance in her wake. Namdi’s knees buckled and he crashed to the floor clutching his heart. A single word nearly escaped his mouth.

"B...i....s..."

Gritting his teeth he stopped. With great resolve he pushed himself to his feet following her into the house that was once a home.

It was not difficult to track her path, the scent of violet leaving a sweet smelling trail with a hint of violence. Namdi's path took him through the living room, his fingers brushing the couch they had fallen onto, her frying pan still in hand; past the kitchen door, a portal for flying cups, his journey ending at the dining room entrance. There was no hesitation.

On the rectangular table were two covered dishes and a brown folder. Namdi could see tendrils of condensing water vapor above each one. Walking to them he sat down before opening the ceramic covers. Suppressing his surprise was a challenge.

"I thought it should be about you now."

On his plate was a ball of eba about the size of his fist. It seemed inconsequential but for Namdi it meant so much. He looked up, holding Zainab's gaze. She sat there, the floor to ceiling frosted glass windows behind her. Much like her father, Zainab occupied the head of the table, a Queen upon her throne unconsciously looking to her subject. To Namdi's right and her left the painting held its place, the drop still threatening to fall. Capitulating first, Namdi reached for the brown folder beside the food.

"Eat first, there'll be plenty of time for that after."

Said softly, wrapped in love but undeniably still a command; carrying with it the weight of one whose experiences consisted only of the world bending to her will. To be denied was a fantasy, something to be read in the tomes of fiction. Namdi paused for a moment, hand hovering, her words holding him. He couldn't look away from the folder, knowing it held the answers he sought and questions he should seek. Namdi's pause lasted for a moment. A part of him had died, weakening old chains while creating new ones. One thing was certain, he was no longer the man he once was. Namdi's pause ended after a moment. The reaper had branded him, his very essence altered, forever unable to return to what he once was. Saying nothing, Namdi continued as if she had not uttered a word. Folder in hand, it opened to a picture of Bisi, text spilling out flooding his world with truth, with understanding.  From his pocket he brought out the pendant, throwing it. Across the table it slid, clattering to a stop in front of Zainab; a black and white symbol of a closed fist with a pinky extended.

 twitter - @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

Ayokunlemi96:
Sir, this is a great work you...
...consequence for which Bisi is. I shall stop here.

Please mention me on your next update.

Your favorable words fill me with warmth.
I too read Lord of the Flies, though at the time I was a year too young to fully grasp the underlying tone and over arching theme. I was a kid reading from word to word for a book report.

I find I do get carried away with the vivid descriptions. If it was a proper book I probably wouldn't adopt such a style but, I guess i'm just having fun

Good insight on the work. The story was also me practicing character development, being able to have their decisions and interactions allow the reader pin point what kind of person they are without having to state literally that Zainab is a controlling person or Namdi seems to have little to no control or Bisi is ... and keeping the character consistent and their decisions in line with... Though far from perfect, from this I think I had a little success (we are the sum of our decisions). Thanks for commenting

Anyway, between 2-10 chapters left. More likely 2 than 10