Okay, before I kick this off, a little notice as to how it will run. Some of you might have noticed I already have a Nightlies topic going. The series will run from two points of view; Sandra's and Bennett's. They will run as two different threads but they are all part of the same story, so to get the full picture, you'll have to shuttle between both threaqds. I didn't want a situation where people would get confused when I would write Bennett's part and they would think it's Sandra so I have to do it this way. I'll keep updates on both threads between them though, so when I add a new post on Sadra, i'll notify on the Benneth topic and vice versa so you guys can stay updated. So let's jump into Bennett's end!

The first thing I noticed as my eyes flew open was the sweat. Sweat was pouring down my face in spite of the air conditioner. It WAS cold inside the room and I shivered a bit. Yet I was sweating. Then there was the light. It was bright, blinding, harsh.

It was the sun.

I turned away from the window and sat up in bed. The sheets were practically soaked and I threw them off. The cold air hit me just as suddenly as I’d thrown of the sheets and I wrapped my hands around me. How come I was sweating in this cold? I rubbed my forehead to be sure I wasn’t coming down with a fever. I hadn’t ever fallen sick far away from home before and I certainly didn’t want to be ill now. To my relief, I felt completely fine and I wasn’t running a temperature. Still, something didn’t quite feel right....something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
And I felt like I had company.

I got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom. Just as I was about to push the door open, I began to feel wary. I WAS not alone. I could feel it strongly and I wasn’t going to take chances. I pushed open the bathroom door slowly and peered in. It was empty.

I turned around and headed for the adjoining room. It was probably nothing; just me feeling the after effects of the dream I’d had. Besides, nobody else had access to my room. Except hotel staff had come in while I was asleep.......but that wasn’t right....and....as I looked around, I could tell that nothing had been disturbed. Everything looked almost exactly the way it had been when I had gone to bed.

Almost.

I was quite sure the black inscription on the white wall opposite the bed wasn’t there when I had gone to bed. The very sight of it stunned me. I had seen that same mark before.....not too long ago. It was the same as the tattoo I had seen on the girl’s neck.

In the dream I had last night.

I was immediately apprehensive. Who could have had access to my room while I was asleep? And how come they had broken in, inscribed that on the wall and escaped without me noticing at all. I wasn’t a deep sleeper; the slightest of sounds would wake me up. Whoever did this was really good. And I could guess the purpose of the inscription. But as I had already pointed out, I would not be dissuaded. I would continue the work I came here to do. Besides, I was already billed to see the curator today as we had an appointment today for.....the appointment! I turned to glance at the clock and was horrified at what I saw. 11:30 am! The meeting was billed for 11:0!

The inscription disappeared from my mind as I dashed into the bathroom and then suddenly stopped unsure of what to do first. Then I grabbed my toothbrush and towel. Ten minutes later, I dashed out of the hotel, the very picture of a rushed preparation and made for the rented car. I was sure I looked crazy but I really didn’t care. I had to get down to the museum or I would miss the chance to see the Ainkhut artefact up close. It would be touring museums around the world from the next day. This was my only opportunity and I was half sure I had blown it.

The drive down to the museum didn’t make things any better. Traffic was horrible and the sun blazed down from the sky with furious vengeance. The air conditioning in the car didn’t make things any better; it was so hot, I felt like I was seated in an oven. And the heat made me look even more haggard. One look at myself in the car mirror and I wasn’t inclined to look at myself again. Then I remembered something thing that had been niggling at the edge of my memory since I left my room at the hotel. I had left my phone behind.

I cursed silently. I would have to get back to the hotel to retrieve the phone. But that would be after I’d seen the Ainkhut. As I turned into a parking space outside the museum, I caught a glance of my image in the car mirror again and almost decided to go back. I looked quite harried but again, I shook off the feeling. I had work to do.
There seemed to be more activity around the museum than the previous time I had been there which was only a few days ago. Probably has to do with the artefacts that would be shipped out tomorrow, I thought. I just hoped the Ainkhut hadn’t already been packed for shipping......and that the curator wasn’t completely mad at me.

As it turned out, he was patient enough to wait for me and, to my relief, didn’t look annoyed. If anything, he looked positively expansive, almost happy.

“You’re late, Mr Bennett,” he said as I walked into the large atrium the entrance doors led to. He stood at the base of the wide stair that led to a gallery upstairs looking straight at me, like he already knew I was coming in through the doors before I actually did.

“Sorry about that,” I huffed, the near run from my car, down the long walk that led to the museum’s main building having quite knocked much of the wind out of me. “Woke up late.” He took the hand I offered and turned around as soon as he relinquished it and started heading up the stairs.

“Well, you’re late on two counts.” My heart sank. The Ainkhut was already being packed for shipping. “First, there’s the matter of you showing up an hour after you were supposed to.”

He had to rub it in. “My apologies, again,” I muttered.

“Oh, I have no problem with that. In fact, I have no problems at all anymore. On the second count, you’re too late to see the Ainkhut.”

“It’s already been packed for shipping?” I asked, trying to come up with a convincing reason to see the Ainkhut before it got shipped out.

“No. I would still have a problem if that was the case.” At this point, we had got to the head of the stairs and could see the large upstairs main gallery. There was even more of a crowd up here than downstairs. A different crowd, however. They were mainly policemen.

“The Ainkhut is no longer here,” he declared as we headed in the direction of where the Ainkhut display had been the last time. “In simpler terms; it’s missing.”

“What?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard right.

“You heard me right. Went missing last night. Or this morning. Either way, it wasn’t here when I came in this morning. Came in an hour earlier after security called to inform me of its absence.”

“So it was stolen?” I asked.

“Stolen? Well i guess that would be the general impression. It was here and now it isn’t anymore. So probably someone took it.”

“You don’t sound like you think it was stolen.” I returned.

“What I think is immaterial. The Ainkhut isn’t here anymore and that’s all the fact we know. The police will conduct their investigations and I’m ready to accept whatever their findings are. It’s rather unfortunate it happened before you could get to see it.”

I shook my head. This was unbelievable.

“So you believe the Ainkhut disappeared?”

“Well it has, hasn’t it? Else it would still be here,” the curator responded. We were now close to the display case that had housed the Ainkhut and had more policemen about it. On sighting the curator, they waved him through. “They said they’re done with checking for signs of a forced entry. So we can look around ourselves.”

“Really? Shouldn’t they keep things closed off till they’re completely sure they’re not missing anything?”

“I don’t know how the police in your country work, Mr Bennett,” the curator sighed. “This is how those in mine work. I’m sure I’ll get a report later today telling me they will do everything possible to find whoever took the Ainkhut. I’m lucky I haven’t been detained as a suspect myself. Anyway, whatever they do, whether they take it serious or not, they’re wasting their time. I don’t really care if they find it or not, anyway. In fact, between you and I, I’d rather it stays missing.”

Again I shook my head, incredulous. “So you mean to tell me, Mr. Ahmed, that the most prized artefact in your museum goes missing and you aren’t worried?”

He turned to face me, the expression on his face intense. “I’ve already told you, Mr Bennett, that thing was trouble. Since the first day it was brought here, it has been trouble. They were warned not to take it away from the Tbiosi tribal land but they came up with cultural preservation excuses and brought it to this museum. Maybe you should talk to the last night guard to patrol this gallery at night. He resigned two months ago. And before him, four other night guards resigned. Since then, none of the night guards come into this gallery, even if they see someone obviously break in.”
He turned away.

“I would suggest you forget about the Ainkhut, Mr Bennett. That thing is a curse to whoever is interested in it. It’s not worth your peace of mind. You can’t understand it so I’d advise you not to try. It has chosen to leave and I’m happy it chose to.” He began walking away, quickly. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

I rubbed my forehead, confused. What was happening here?

My Word! Are you sure you should be posting this in public space?

I earnestly hope you have a copyright or something. This is really good, bro. I'll be paying very close attention to this story in its two parts.

Ihedinobi: My Word! Are you sure you should be posting this in public space?

I earnestly hope you have a copyright or something. This is really good, bro. I'll be paying very close attention to this story in its two parts.

You can say that again. I feel like a proud mama right now...My baby is all grown up and is such a talented writer

*sob*

Ishilove:
You can say that again. I feel like a proud mama right now...My baby is all grown up and is such a talented writer

*sob*

Yeah, I know how you feel, 'love. Although it was just a vague promise all those days back when we debated what he should have said about the player whose bowels screwed up his game, it's a solid reality now. Our baby is all grown up now. You should be proud, hon.

Ihedinobi:

Yeah, I know how you feel, 'love. Although it was just a vague promise all those days back when we debated what he should have said about the player whose bowels screwed up his game, it's a solid reality now. Our baby is all grown up now. You should be proud, hon.

Seems like a lifetime ago. I knew our son was going places, but I never knew it would be so fast. Yes dear, indeed I am very proud of our baby.

This week there's not been a single day I get on this section and not get blown away by someone's work. People are gifted I must confess.

#Respekt.

@Ishilove

I'm sending you a link on Whatsapp. Do me a favor and check it out. Make no assumptions whatsoever.

You guys make me blush! The Cheshire cat has nothing on the smile on my face right now!

Abeg when u GƠ̴̴̴̴̴̴͡ update

New update on Sandra! https://www.nairaland.com/1305653/nightlies-sandra

I stood isolated in the large gallery, activity going on around me and , in my head, even more activity. In my line of work, it was usual to come across people that were extremely superstitious. But this time……there was a hint of more than just superstitiousness in the way the curator had spoken about the Ainkhut. It seemed like he had had a terrifying personal experience with it…an experience he wanted to forget. Even the little speech he had given betrayed less than his eyes expressed. I could see the intense relief behind them. And an anxiousness…..perhaps he really didn’t want the Ainkhut to return.

Or perhaps he worried that I might discover something. Something he would rather have kept secret.

I turned around and headed back in the direction of the cops we had seen as we had approached the the Ainkhut display stand earlier. There were only three of them left and they were discussing in light, bantering tones, like a serious theft hadn’t occurred and a priceless artefact wasn’t missing. I walked past them and gave a curt nod as I passed. Two of them barely acknowledged my greeting, but the third one stared at me. I felt he was still staring at me as I departed but I wasn’t going to look back to find out. I was nearly at the stairs when I heard a shout;

“Hey!”

i pretended not to have heard and kept right on walking, my head down as if I was in deep thought.

“Hey you!,” the person called out again. I glanced back this time, already certain I was the one being called. Only goodness knew what would happen if I ignored him again. The last time I ran into a policeman in this city, it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

I saw the staring cop walking quickly towards me. He was tall, taller than I was and dark. His face looked rather friendly and I unconsciously relaxed a bit at this. Still, most of me was tense. I really didn’t have any business with them. Why would he have called me?

“Can I help you?” I asked as he got to me.

“You do realize we’re running an investigation here, don’t you?” he asked. “You shouldn’t have been up there in the gallery. It is off limits.”

“Oh, I was with the curator,,” I responded. I could have sworn it was he that had waved us through when we had first come up to the gallery. Why was he telling me this now?

“Do you work here?” He asked.

“No, I don’t,” I responded. “But wha…”

“Then why were you in the gallery?”

“I was invited by the curator,” I responded. “But..”

“For what?” He cut in, before I could continue.

“I’m a paranormal investigator,” I responded, now moving from tense to cautious. “I was supposed the take a look at the Ainkhut before it shipped out.”

“Really?” he asked. His friendly face was beginning to look distinctly unfriendly. The tension building up within me felt almost solid.

“Yes,” I responded, wiping a sweaty palm on my trousers. I was usually not nervous around cops. Especially when I hadn’t done anything wrong. Why was I feeling like this now? “But why are you asking me these questions? Is there a problem.”

“There could be.” He responded curtly. Then he stepped closer to me, so close I could almost see the individual strands of his eye brows. My heart began to race as he began to speak in very hushed tones, yet so sharp it was like he was addressing a gathering. “Now listen up. I don’t know who you are or what you are here to do, and quite frankly, I don’t care. But I heard the curator tell you to forget about the Ainkhut. That was good advice. Forget about it. It’s our job to find out what happened to it and if possible, retrieve it. Not yours.”

This was odd, I thought. It was certainly not what I had expected to hear and, for a moment, it threw me off centre. Then I regained my composure and responded;

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Oh, I know your type.” He spat back. “You come around here, snooping around, thinking you can do our job better than us. But I warn you, I’ve got the support of the state. And whoever I deem as being an obstacle to our investigation gets removed. Understand?”

I stepped back. Was this the person in charge of the case?

“I’m an obstacle?” I replied huskily, licking my lips as my mouth was extremely dry. “Don’t you think it is odd that the curator isn’t worried about the theft of the most important artefact in this museum? Shouldn’t you….”

“See what I was talking about? We’re the law here. We do the investigations. Whatever the curator thinks, it’s our job to draw conclusions. And right now, it’s your job not to be here.”

I stared at him and he stared back. There was something about his eyes….something I couldn’t quite figure out but I knew scared me. I stepped back again, unsure of what I was now afraid of. He staring at me, unflinching, unblinking. It was unsettling and I turned around and took the stairs, unwilling to even steal a backward glance. I guessed he was still watching me as I practically ran down the stairs. I prided myself on being fearless, after all, that was one of the basics of what I did. But right now, I had to admit that I was very afraid. And of what, I really wasn’t sure.

I got to the foot of the stairs and stopped. Nothing really made sense as I tried to piece everything together. How come the Ainkhut went missing just the night before I was due to come take a look at it? Why wasn’t the curator bothered…or rather, why was he positively happy that a priceless exhibit in his museum went missing. Was it his superstitiousness? Or was it something else?

And that cop……

I glanced back up at the stairs and, sure enough, there he was at the head, staring down at me. I didn’t need any more prompting. I turned around and headed towards the entrance. Outside the building, I noticed dark clouds had begun to form overhead and it was slightly windy. Odd, I thought.It was extremely hot and sunny when I’d gone in. Now it looked like storm was coming; and quickly. I went down the stairs to the museum compound. I was still feeling very confused as I headed towards the main gates. The Ainkhut was missing. Did this mean this mission was failure? Or…

“Mr Bennett?”

I looked up as I heard my name. Ahead of me was a uniformed man. A tag told me what his uniform was for; museum security. What was it now?

“Sorry, you’re Mr Bennett, right? The paranormal investigator? From Bennett Investighosts?” He asked.

I nodded, wary.

“Didn’t intend to bother you sir,” he said, looking quite flustered. “I watch your show on TV. I’m a huge fan of yours!”

That was a new one. I had felt like I didn’t have any fans since i’d arrived this country.

“I watched your last episode when you said you’d be investigating the Ainkhut and I figured you might be coming down here. I check your official website and confirmed you were. I was like, “what are the chances you would be coming right down to the museum where i worked?”

I nodded, not exactly following. My mind was still taken up by other things.

“I saw you come in and I was waiting for you to come out so I could get your autograph.” He presented a pen and two books. I recognized it. “I bought your book and i’ve read it through. Will you be writing another?”

I took the pen and one book and opened it to the first page, signed it and handed it back to him, still without a word. Then he handed me the other book.

“You want me to autograph this for someone?” I asked looking it over. It was a leather bound book with a leather strap lock. It was slightly heavy and the spine had indecipherable writing on them.

“No,” he answered. “It’s for you.”

“For me?” I asked. “Sorry Mr….”

“Arthur.”

“Sorry, mr Arthur, but I can’t accpet this. It’s….”

“Please,” he begged, looking almost distraught at the prospect of me returning it to him. “It would mean so much to me if you had something that’s mine. Not everyone gets to give their favourite celebrity something of theirs.”

I had never considered myself celebrity and the press certainly didn’t. I didn’t know what to say.

“Well, I….”

“Thank you!” he gushed and immediately turned around and started walking away without another word.

“Hey!” I called. “I haven’t….”

“Mr Bennett!” I heard a voice call from behind me. I had heard my name twice today but I was already getting tired of hearing it. Both times had left me feeling very confused. I turned around to see the curator standing outside the main doors to the main exhibition building. “There’s something I’d like you to see.”

I took a step towards him instinctively then stopped. I wasn’t sure I wanted to come across that cop again……but whatever the curator wanted me to see might be important. And I wouldn’t want to miss that.

I took another step towards him and remembered the book in my hand.

“Hey,” I called, turning around, intending the return the book.

He was gone.

That was odd. I had only turned around for about two seconds. Where we stood was too far from any of the buildings for someone to have covered that distance within two seconds. I turned back to the curator. Then looked around to be sure I hadn’t missed him somehow. Mr. Arthur was nowhere in sight.

My heart began to race again. Something very wrong was going on here.

I started heading towards Mr Ahmed, the curator, feeling very puzzled. He stood waiting, a hand in a pocket and looking rather pensive, all the expansiveness I had seen earlier not in evidence. I got to the foot of the entrance stairs and stopped to take another glance behind me.

“Did you….did you see the man I was talking with just now? Did you see what direction he headed?” I asked the curator, still casting glances behind me.

“Who?” He asked.

“There was…..didn’t you see the man I was talking to just now, when you called me?”

“Mr Bennett, you were walking towards the main gates when I called out. And you were walking alone.” He responded; then added. “Are you sure you were with someone?”

I began to feel a thudding at the back of my head.

“I was….there was….” I looked at the book in my hand. It was still there.

“Did you come in with that?” the curator asked, now looking curious.

“I was….er, never mind,” I stuttered, shaking my head to clear it for the moment. If he could see the book, then there was some reality in what had happened. And I was completely sure I hadn’t come in with a book. I didn’t even have any book like it in my possession. I was getting even more confounded by the second. “What did you want to show me?”

“Come up to my office,” He replied, turning around. “There’s something you might find interesting.”

If this was adapted for tv mehn...

PLs update now .

Chai.......where on nairaland z dis japanese dude!!!!! Pls come nd continue ur lovely story......am kinda running out of popcorn nd alomo!!!!

Lolz. sorry jere. itz been a hectic few days. About to update on Sandra sha

New update on Sandra! https://www.nairaland.com/1305653/nightlies-sandra

I followed Mr. Ahmed back into the building, my mind still in a whirl. There was no way I could have imagined what had just happened. And there was the book. It seemed to weigh even heavier in my hand now than it had when the mysterious Arthur had handed it to me. I examined it over again. it looked really old, though it didn’t smell of age. The spine was thick and had indentations at various points. I turned it over in my hand. What was all this supposed to mean? And what was I supposed to do with the book now? i certainly didn’t want to keep it. Aidan had said I had too much clutter already back home and now I thought of it, I agreed.

We were now at the foot of the stairs leading up to the main gallery and I suddenly remembered and stopped short.

“Do we have to go up to your office?” I asked the curator, the face of the cop now clearly visible in my mind and with the image, a wash of apprehension washed over me that I still could not explain. The last thing I wanted now was to meet him again. I wanted to take a look around the museum but I didn’t want to run into him. Which was why I had decided to head back to the hotel before I ran into Arthur and got called back by the curator.

“Yes,” he replied. “Do you have any problem with that?”

Of course, I had a problem with it, but I suddenly realized that i had no way of explaining why I had reservations about going up to the main gallery with him. I crossed my fingers and shook my head.

“No, not at all. let’s go.”

He turned around and lead the way and I followed at a close enough distance looking ahead to be sure the cop wasn’t anywhere close by. We got to the head of the stairs and my eyes quickly scanned the main gallery. There wasn’t a single cop in sight.

“Where did they all go?” I asked, slightly puzzled.

“Who?” Mr Ahmed asked, still walking, and rather quickly.

“The cops that were here when I first arrived.” I responded, still glancing around cautiously.

“They’re in the storage section. Said they wanted to look through it.” he responded.

“All of them?” I asked, hopeful.

“Yes.” he answered. “ I think.”

“Mr Ahmed!” A voice called out from behind us. My heart sank even before I turned around.

It was the cop.

“Apparently, not all of them,” Mr Ahmed whispered to me as he turned around before walking away in the direction of the advancing cop. “Is there any problem, Mr. Inspector?”

I followed slowly, the fear I had felt before beginning to hammer at the back of my head with a fierce intensity. I didn’t know why but right now, I felt like running; far, far away from this person who I still couldn’t understand he he terrified me.

“Oh, not at all,” he replied. “Just wanted to confirm something from you. Might help in our investigations.”

“Oh, alright,” Mr Ahmed said. “Mr Bennett,” he continued, indicating me. “Paranormal investigator. He was supposed to take a look at the Ainkhut today.” Then turning to me he said; “Inspector Ali. He is in charge of the case…or whatever it is this is.”

The cop offered his hand for a handshake and smiled sibilantly. I began to feel very weak at the knees as I shook the hand reluctantly and withdrew my hand quickly. nothing was making sense anymore.

“Really unfortunate for you,” Inspector Ali said, staring straight into my eyes. “I hope we can fin the artefact soon and maybe you can tell us if it is as mysterious as reported.”

I could detect a malicious tone to his voice. Apparently it all went over Mr Ahmed’s head.

“I learnt from the guard assigned to the grounds around the main gallery that you always do a check around the grounds before you leave for home every evening. Is that true?”

“It is true,” Mr Ahmed confirmed, nodding.

“And you did this yesterday as well?”

“I did,” he answered, still nodding.

“And you didn’t notice anything odd? Anything strange in the grounds?”

Mr Ahmed looked thoughtful for a few moments before slowly shaking his head. “No, I don’t remember seeing anything out of place.”

“Okay, that’s all I wanted to find out. Do have a nice day.” he said, turning around. “Oh, and you too, Mr Bennett.”

I nearly cringed where I stood hearing him speak my name.

Mr Ahmed turned around and resumed walking in the direction of his office. I happily followed in his wake, almost bumping into him from behind.

“Whatever they are doing here, I would like them to be done and leave quickly,” Mr Ahmed hissed. “I don’t like their presence here. Makes me very uncomfortable.”

He had no idea how that cop’s presence made me feel.

“So I said there was something you might like to see.” He resumed after a short pause. “When the Ainkhut was first brought here, I was the curator in charge, though I was still fresh on the job. As you might have noticed and you probably already know, the Ainkhut can’t be moved without some kind of traditional procession preceding it’s movement. The procession that brought it here had at its head, the chief pries of the Tbiosi tribe. After the Ainkhut had been set in the gallery, he came up to me and said something that I didn’t understand, largely because I don’t understand Tbiosi. Then after speaking, he handed me a small carving. I didn’t understand what it was for but it looked like a miniature of the Ainkhut.

“As soon as he was done talking, he walked away. I wanted to get someone who understood the language to interpret what he was saying….but he was gone.”

“Gone?” I asked.

“Yes, disappeared. Vanished. Wasn’t there anymore.”

“And this happened in the presence of everyone?” I asked.

“No”, he answered. “I was in my office and he come to meet me there. After he handed over the miniature, he walked out and turned left outside the door. I quickly hurried to stop him and try to get him to wait while I got someone to interpret what he was saying but when I got out of my office there was nobody there.”

The office door was now in view and, as I could see, it would take anyone coming out of the office a full ten seconds to get anywhere they could turn off or hid behind. If what Mr Ahmed was saying was true, it would have been a really mysterious situation he found himself.

“So what happened to it?” I asked.

“I put it in a storage cabinet in my office and forgot about it. I only remembered it yesterday when the procession for the Ainkhut’s movement arrived. So I went to get it just now after I left you and…”

Disappointment washed over me. It was probably also missing as well.

“I can’t seem to move it.” Mr Ahmed finished, turning to glance at me. “I remember just dropping it on it’s side and locking the cabinet. But when I opened it just now, the miniature was standing upright. I tried to get it out, but I can’t get it out. It’s like it has been riveted to the base of the cabinet or something. And Im sure we did no such thing.”

He pushed open the door to his office and ushered me inside, following. The office was almost exactly the way it had been the first time I had entered a week ago. The large desk was still strewn over with paper and miniature art objects. Where all museum curator’s offices like this? I wondered, in spite of the kind of day I was having.

On the far left wall, right beside a bookshelf packed to bursting with thick, ancient looking books, and set into the wall was a small metal-door cabinet. The small door was wide open.

It was empty.

www.thegiddywriter.

Guy, u're the bomb!!! I can hardly detect flaws in ur writing... Every sentence carries its own suspence that drives the reader to the next... This is so great. I'm so glued to this

Nice one here

yertyr: Guy, u're the bomb!!! I can hardly detect flaws in ur writing... Every sentence carries its own suspence that drives the reader to the next... This is so great. I'm so glued to this

Awwww!!! Thanks a lot! It's people like you that inspire me to continue with this series!

If i have the resources, i will surely transform dis write-up in Nollywood best selling movie......i don dey Imagine ham inside my inner-eyes.

Update on Sandra! (https://www.nairaland.com/1305653/nightlies-sandra)

Very nice. The suspense is killing!! Keep it up Senb, you are on the way to becoming the very best

I noticed something (me and my 'noticing' ).
You might not agree with me but the very first post seemed a bit rushed. At least to me. In my pov, Some of the tight cordination in 'Sandra' is missing in 'Bennett'. There are also some little issues here and there that will smoothen itself the more you write. You know by now that consistency is the key to improvement, so you have no where to go but the top.

Keep it up Senb, I remain your biggest fan

senbonzakura_kageyoshi:

The 'rushness' is so subtle, it is barely noticeable but to the practiced eye, it is glaring. I can understand the pressure, though. That's part of why I stopped posting on my thread because the pressure was just too much, I couldn't cope.

Try as much as possible not to sacrifice finesse, aight?

Keep the flag flying

Wow! I luv dis

Following.. With Machete!!

am following you

*sits down for more updates,with ♍Ɣ guguru and epa*
Where is the jap guy

senbonzakura_kageyoshi:

Awwww!!! Thanks a lot! It's people like you that inspire me to continue with this series!

we are nw in Sept stil u neva upd8. Pls cm nd upd8 b4 we throw matchete at u oh. . .

Reading this wonderful piece without atleast posting a comment is definitely a crime. Great job Senb. Pls dnt stop.