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FoolishBoy419:
The 'publish' button doesn't work. Tried using 3 different browsers but it still didnt respond.

Please, use a PC or hold on for a while till December. We're reconstructing it's interface etc

1. Grabbing The hot Gate
https://www.nairaland.com/4326857/grabbing-hot-gate-paranormal-novel
2. The ones Called Dogs

https://www.nairaland.com/5391553/ones-called-dogs-full-story
3. Lost but Satisfied
https://www.nairaland.com/4898568/lost-satisfied-thriller-akintayo-akinjide
4. Don't Look Closer
https://www.nairaland.com/5178876/dont-look-closer-thriller-akintayo
5. Purified Tomorrow
https://www.nairaland.com/4378038/purified-tomorrow-mad-awakening-science

6. Thorny Part to Italy
https://www.nairaland.com/5136678/thorny-path-italy-novel-akintayo

By Akintayo Akinjide




Jadesola crouched behind a ravaged car and peered into the dark street of Ikorodu that used to be where his home was. The smoke from the vehicle, in collusion with the loudest of silence, made his heartbeat increase.
‘Jade…’ His brother, Oba, whispered. ‘You can still go back now’.
The fear in his brother’s voice shot him back into the reality of what he was trying to do. Once or twice, a flood of light would sweep through the street from afar. He nodded. ‘I can do this…’
‘Let me follow you’, Oba pleaded for the umpteenth time since they set out for their former home.
Jade shook his head and could feel a terrible vibration through his body. This type of vibration could only be produced by fear or cold. That night, his own was a result of fear, which was also visible on Oba. ‘I’ve got this…’
Oba grabbed Jade’s arm in a way Jade hated because saying goodbyes that way meant doom, but since it was speechless, he retaliated and tightened his grip on his brother’s arm.
In a few seconds, he was in the drainage. The stench was enough to choke any man, but he had become more than a man when he had to hide under several corpses for the two days the freedom fighters used his hiding place as their base.
As he crawled on, light flooded the drainage, and he had to lay still, pretending to be dead, holding his breath. He was lying atop a fallen fighter, whose splattered head reeked of dry blood. Despite lying awkwardly, the corpse had nothing to worry about. When the light moved away, he crawled on, climbing through several wet posters that used to be the call-for-justice placards of the freedom fighters before they turned violent.
Jade shouldn’t have been out here. Suddenly, a shot rang in the distance. He froze. Expecting to be shot at, he remained in the drainage and gurgled as he tried to ward off some rats, mopping away the dirty water flowing towards his mouth.
Assured of his safety, he clambered out of the drainage and hurried to the back of his house. Luckily, the door was just as his wife had said it would be. That was the first time in three weeks he would be returning home since they deserted it because the Nigeria government decided to shoot at some peaceful protesters, causing a bloody civil war, despite knowing how tensed the country was.
When he finally got what he came for, he crawled back through the drainage. The stench of corpses and their sticky stream of blood made their way with him as he climbed out to meet Oba. He groaned.
Someone caught the sound and raved. He wondered how the soldiers on the other end could have heard him. However, the glints of light from brandished machetes became his cue.
‘Oba, run’, he yelled and sprinted off.
The thick smoke from several scorched cars would be their fence. They ran into it and swerved into an uncompleted building. Someone shot at them, hitting him on the arm.
‘Jade…’ Oba called.
‘It’s a scratch…’ Jade yelled. ‘Run…’
In a few minutes, they were sprinting through bushes, brushing leaves out of their way, and smelling horrible. They jumped into another drainage and crawled towards their hideout.
Knocking thrice on the bark of a tree, another part of a bush opened, and they were pulled into the house.
‘Were you followed?’ Asked Uche, the man that saved them from day one. Jade shook his head and cold glare from Uche.
‘That was reckless…’ Uche said and walked off.
‘It was important…’
‘Important? Your wife had almost gone mad...It’s been how many days out there? Three!!! She assumed you both were dead…’ Uche raged and marched out.
Jade knew better than to utter a response. He glanced at Oba and got a naughty wink. ‘We did it again…’
His wife jumped up the stairs of their underground hideout and flung herself at him, kissing him.
‘Yuck!’ Oba murmured.
‘You smell… Horrible. Apayan ni e o’, she said.
‘Where’s she?’ He asked and led the way down the stairs.
‘Your room…’
Jade rushed to his room and found his little daughter, Sade, on his bed, gasping for breath. Her face was white from lack of blood. The intern-nurse had done numerous blood transfusions to no avail. The leukaemia wouldn’t stop draining her.
‘Baby, I got you the teddy bear’, he said as he sat near her.
Sade smiled warily at him, reminding him of the sweet feeling of peace.

1. a. Other things came up
b. Real life issues
c. Nothing to show for it
d. Writer's block.
e. No one sent us message if they truly cared.
f. No true comments. I want criticism and reviews. Not just " We're following you"...
g. I'm editing.
h. Lack of inspiration


2. a. Man must chop.
b. To fulfill God's plan for my life. Our pastor said a man's gift makes room for him, why money no dey involved.
c. My mentors sell their works. Check Chimamanda..All top writers do, why should I give it for free.

d. All other free entertainment like filmshows are being paid for by their networks.

e. I gave some out because I'm not popular. So, I was teasing you into buying.

You should understand that these are people. Motivate their hardworks. Ask any freelancer, when money is involved, dry brains rise again. Inspiration fly on the wings of fairies and sit with us. Money can go a long way in making a man happy.

If you can't afford it, chip in comments- wise ones. Question motives behind lines of stories.

The End..


Truly, I feel better. My mind is no longer bugged with pain. I'm know some people want to help me unburden.

Kemi Adetiba,
I'm writing the last letter to you, hoping you will stop invading my thoughts and dreams.
We all have a hunger, and you're living that dream. You make a fool of fears when you write and produce as if you are not of this country, making me forget to worry about my own future and productions.
I've refused to remember your face as that will be the last glue to your brain. In support, my mind seemed trained to help out.
I'm glad you are a great scriptwriter.

Shonda Rhimes,
I'm sorry I won't ever watch Grey's Anatomy. It's the last rope that will bind me to you because if you cough, I'll find it blessed. You are an enigma.

Chimamanda Adichie,
I'm afraid my knees might buckle in your presence. Also, I've avoided reading two of your books to not be your zombie.
Yet, I've read your quotes, interviews, and so many things about you that I'm afraid I might make you a goddess soon. I would put offerings of writings under your image, drop titbits of poems for your eyes.
I'm afraid I might give everything and soak myself in tears to write every word like you.
Thanks for being a great writer.

Amy Acker,
You're the pure version of the angel of death. If you want to cut my hands off, I won't mind. I always want to watch you in movies.
You're precious. I love that tiny voice and blue eyes. I used to have daydreams of you pecking me, and I remain in your paradise for years. If I met you, I wouldn't worry about a million years in your arms.
You make my heart scream, and it seems like the beginning.

Charlize Theron,
You make me speechless. My heart stops these days at the sight of you. I might have watched all your movies, but I can't, to avoid you having control over me. I can't have that. I rarely taste alcohol because of control.
So, please don't stop being gorgeous.

Ireal,
I won't mention you because you were the first girl to spoon me, rock and grind me. I wasn't a good boy, but I just poured myself into books more than reality.
So, when you started by insisting on watching movies from my laps, I knew you should go. But you were my end game. I'm sorry I made it look as if you seduced me.

But immediately I saw you, I wrote a story of a guy allowing himself to be seduced because he didn't want to tell his girlfriend he has been enlisted for Sambisa. I craved your body nevertheless. But you only gave me permission to your body, not inside you.

You would have disvirgined me...Guys are not flowers and can't be deflowered. Meanwhile, we were wise enough to discuss how beneficial our friendship would be. Yet, you tortured me with your crazy bumshots. At a point, my plan was out of the way, and it was that tiny ebony body I wanted, to trace every pore.
And then you also made me pants in your way, limiting the blood flow in my nipples, tickling my sensitive parts repeatedly.

Do you remember the night my girlfriend called, and you thought it wise to remove my trouser and feed yourself with a wrong stick? I do. It was the highlight. I wondered how I couldn't make any unnecessary sound.
The relationship was becoming less friendly. We had to give ourselves space. You initiated it, and I'm glad you did because my resolve was low. You've weakened my control. My game was no longer in view, you were.
Glad you passed out of Nysc. That way, we were free from each other's clutch. I couldn't have married an Imo girl. Where the money?
And you too were afraid your family would reject me. We made the right decisions. Chop knuckles.

Bimbo Ogunbanjo,
I hate that "if you love something, you let it go" statement. It ruined us.

But it is better for you. We were good together. Singers. You were short, I was tall. You, fair; I, dark. Beautiful; Handsome. You were gregarious. I was an introvert. Life would have been sweet.

I should say again, congratulations on your upcoming wedding ceremony in December. I can't tell much about the love we had. It was pure. You were balanced in jealousy, having fear and trust at the right time.

The way you wanted sex only in marriage was also my desire. But a guy can't be watching too much Lexy Panterra's twerk and not feel the need to hold tight to his girl.
You wanted me to do some things you have seen in happy homes. I don't know those things. I never lived with one family for long to know even how to iron a shirt (I learnt how to iron a shirt properly from my friend). I've never lived with a man in the house for more than 4 years. And all the women I lived with wanted me to be the perfect image of their dream men.
So, instead of teaching me men's stuff, they made me enjoy household work. Well, it didn't work. I hated it with passion, avoiding these works because of their desire for perfection. So, doing Bible studies and joint prayer was new to me. I told you, I'll learn if you can be patient.

I grew up for 20+ years with these bad behaviours, it won't be easy to just start the good ones in a day. Then, my mom's disapproval of our relationship spooked you. I would have fight tooth and nails for you, but you didn't want to grab some great opportunities because of me. You were contemplating on avoiding them because of 'Love'. If I hear? I have lived with several families to know that nothing is permanent.

So, when Ireal came my way, I allowed her to seduce me. I knew you would dismantle our relationship if I told you what I did. Well, half of my heart didn't really want to go through with it. I probably should have fought hard, but you wanted to marry early and do some things that will later make you curse me and marriage.

I'm sorry again for breaking your heart. I'm an idiot, I know. Maybe that's why I've never enjoyed much cosiness others have. I like me better when I was with you. You were a source of joy. We had plans, but later, when you left, you made it look as if I didn't make you achieve some of the things you did now when I was the one hammering on you doing most of them. We were each other's best cheerleaders.

But I saw it coming. I still feel sad about losing you, but I love you. You needed to go.

Lola Oladipo,
As you later told me, you were a bigger crush of me than I was of you. I used to avoid singing on that stage because I was battling so many things in my life. But whenever I climbed that stage
and see you dancing away, I feel enthralled. I let my worries off and focus on God.
I would never believe we would talk. For four years of seeing you in church, I have never for once had power over that crush. You weren't the goddess of beauty, but your level of sophisticated but straightforward dressing kicked me in the balls always.p

Hands off, I'm not going there. You can now understand the joy I had when we were asked to collect the number of the person seated near us, and it was you.
I wanted to beg for mercy. My heart would have burst, but for the control, I tried having.
But I was a fool, I defined all my relationships because I didn't want anybody telling me I fooled them when I asked you out.
You were ripe, too and ready. You weren't too spiritual, too passive, too brilliant, too dull, too proud. You are still down to earth, despite your father's wealth.

I didn't want to fall for you, and I was afraid you'll take advantage of it. You, however, were sweet even on our first date. You made it worthwhile.
I was waiting at the venue two hours before the time.
If I didn't define all my relationships, I might still have Olamide, that fair girl that always waits for me after service. And I wouldn't have asked Bimbo out.
We would have lasted. We would. You are one person I wish I talked to first.
The way you still talk to me in recent times, gladdens my heart. One day, I'll say this to your face: I admire and love you...

Kenny Ewuola,
We were good together, both dark, handsome and beautiful but Samson came. How're you, though?
You just love the adventure of being a bad girl that you can didn't learn the rope. God knows I try to feel happy for you even if I don't understand how you would do some things I heard you did. It left me wondering how much you wanted to taste life outside the ones your parents have guided you through.

Well, I deviated, too, but yours was too conspicuous. I might be an idiot though for assuming life needs to be explored one step at a time. We might die soon or late. Why not enjoy them one after the other.

Do you remember how we will die over "Coming to America"? We watched it and Joyful Noise more than ten times.

I was a fool, a typical example of what many are facing in their relationships or desire for a girl now. You made me write three 60 leaves poems for Samson. That fair guy later broke your heart. No. Smatched your heart. I'm supposed to feel sad, but I read Audreytimm's Unfulfilled Promises, and I remember you.
Your dad wouldn't have even allowed us to marry, seeing he was preparing you for another guy. Damn! Life's story beats love story. How far the guy?
I'm glad you said no to me, then. I find it relieving now.

Olamide Ogundare,

I wished I met you in 300 level... You know how we both publicly confessed how we were each other's crush. Despite my love for no trousers and Jewelry in 100l, I found you too serious. And you fancied the things I didn't like most of those love songs when I found only Flo, Mali as the only radical people I want to be exposed to.

Let's flow in the beauty of high praise. Ta lo raye oshi. How will I listen to slow songs if it's not acapella? I'm sure you're seeing how we were becoming different.
You loved my poise but hate my guts. The time we became fond of each other in 400 L, I just had my heart broken by Funke's wahala, I just became Music director and Editor I chief. I was also writing my novel. I think it was Lost but Satisfied.
Then, you knocked on my heart, held my hands on the road to church. You wanted to become a better Christian, and I was afraid I would corrupt you
That was a time in my life I was enjoying Miztwerksum, Alexis Texas. I loved Adele from the heavens and back. America The Voice was my muse.

You can understand my fear. But as I think of it later in life, I realise most of the girls I ever loved were a vocalist. That and power topped my list.
You had a bit of it. You were a crazy fashionista, but your tiny voice can't even scare people if we were armed robbers.
All in all, with you, I had a focus. I just wanted to explain Writing. You're focused, and for that, I doff my heart.
The last time I visited Victoria Olaopa's Sharwama office, you rushed over when you heard I was around. I don't know how I lost that pix. We would have bonded better on our trip to Delta, but life happens.
I want to lie down and hold you in my arms and watch the skies, but we've gone separate ways that it would be hard to toe the same paths anymore.

lobell:
categories 1, 3 and 6 na. Per your instructions.

Which ones? Novel, Short Stories, Poem


Cc: ugnoble
abefeabebi
Olumighty

ugnoble:
1. Romance : Topher052 "My madam and I"

3. Horror : Topher052 "The Devil's touch"

6. Most Consistent: Topher052

Category.


Any vote without category is invalid...

kay29000:
What's the prize though? What are people winning? How much are the winners going to get?

You are a regular on Nairaland and know there are usually no amount attached to it.

The sponsorship I've gotten so far is just a token. The sponsor prefer I don't mention it.

lobell:
1. topher052 - My Madam and I 3. topher052 - The Devils Touch 6. topher052

Categories

horlahsunbo225:
1. topher052 - My Madam and I 3. topher052 - The Devils Touch 6. topher052

Categories

Funke Siyanbade,
As I write this, I pray my girlfriend would never see this. Sidey, if you ever read this, your position can't be taken (hehehe)...

Workers in Training brought us together. You became my unappointed assistant. But what drew me to you was that you were like everything I have dreamt of in a woman, the most perfect imperfections.

You were fun to be with, always, chipping-in jokes at the wrongest of time, serious when the time came for it, manager of life.
I want to write a lot about you. Do you remember how we would trek from SUB to your hostels, firstly Queens hall then Mariam hostel outside the school?
You gave me a purpose in every way. Days I had nothing you would walk with me even when you were in a hurry. Great worshippers, rascally fellow. Your joviality made people fear your belief in Christ, but we knew you.

I waited too long. When we started, you came out too strong, and I made the mistake of running away for a while, but I couldn't handle being away from you.

Everyone wanted us to be together, and I did too, but I was late that when I talked you weren't ready. That day, you called to check up on me. You won't believe I went straight to Gboyega's room and we talked about it for hours. I might have cried that night.
You were the first girl I would talk to boldly. I practised for months, reading to mirrors. Only for me to take you to buy something at Chicken republic and you wanted to use the toilet. But you refused to let me go until I told you what I promised to tell you.
That made me stone cold. I hoped you wanted time. So, I sent you another message on the 1st of January, but you broke the news: It's a big No...


I didn't let go. I wanted us to remain friends. I brought food to you ... I loved every part of it. You made me promise not to become distant from you, but you became a stranger by not taking my continual hands of friendship.

I guess when Precious became close to you, she was hoping it would work between us. She always told me her aspirations for us. She wanted me to ask you again, but I've started preparing Bimbo for that. It would be an insult to what I've built.

My heart bleeds as I write this to you. You made me laugh. We were good together. Why did you say no? I remember when you will call me repeatedly to check on me. Why did you say no?