₦airaland Forum

Khutie:
Happy new month to yhu Skar lett baby. No forgeh me when yhu start the new story o!

"While we live, let us live"
"While we live, let us enjoy life"

MackBrooklyn:
Jeez Ska rlett!! Just read everything from page 26 till the end of the story . . . Though you didn't tag me again, diariz God OoO!!!
Well, If I must say I'm not really a fan of the Literature section but your stories and your handwriting are always a hit back to back. I guess I will start spending time in here nowadays
2017 is still about a 30 days ahead and I hope you're gonna tag me in your future banging stories. How I wish I can write wonderfully like this but it's a pity I ain't into literature, Maximum Respekt, Ma'am!!!

skarlett:
Sorry for not tagging you dear, it wasn't intentional. Maximum respect to you too for hanging on with me till the end, your large sized fonts cannot be forgotten in a hurry

I will tag you when i start another

Lol, don't worry, ma'am! Me and my large font will still be there for you when next you're starting another gbedu wey dey burst brain!!

ozila:
nice one dear

janway:
Jesus. knife on Feyi's throat

phieccayurmie:
Skarlet,it is well with u.u re going places by his Grace..

Lexzytee:
Dis story is xoxo interesting I started yesterday nd am tru with it today ur work is xo gud I xo much love it dis will be d first tym I will be reading u story. More ink to ur pen I am goona re-read it again pls mention me when u start anoda story
#GODBLESS

OYAY:
This is a well structured and content filled story devoid of tautology and tense tagging mistake;I say kudos to you the writer,though I read it late despite been mentioned from inception but the wait is worthwhile. Hence I say tiri gbosa for you!!!

Phunmmielurlar:
I swear ehn,if all writers on NL r lyk u(consistent nd kip 2 dier wrds),if all stories on NL r lyk dis(short,well detailed nd captivating!) e 4 gud...I had wanted 2 comment since I got 2 page 1,buh d story ws 2 captivating(no vex abeg)

skarl ett,I mst commend d way u mixed pleasure nd crime 2geder nd it wnt perfectly well....evn dou PHCN n ma eyes no wnt gree mk I finish d story,I did!

Evry update ws a hit back to back!.....dis s ur 1st story I read nd I enjoyed evry bit of it!!!
God bless u plenty,more grease 2 ur elbow,more ink 2 ur pen nd d inspiration won't evr run out!....kip up d gud wrks nd d sky s ur starting point!

biko,mention me wen u strt a new story!

Amenya96:
skarl ett love this story was a bomb.....
u re the best
I rate u high over angelss

BerryAnny:
Hope d story qonna sweet...*grabs a packet of popcorn*...

Holashikemi:
wow...nice story dear,please dont forget mention me when you start the next one

TheAziz:
started and finished this story today, i must admit, you're too good

Nikkybrainz:
[color=#000099][/color] Scarlett you are just too good. I mean, I saw the story on fp and I read it from the first page to the last without a break...well except to eat sha. You are the most talented writer I've read on Nairaland so far. More ink to your pen, ideas to your mind and blessings to your life. I can't wait to read Cross my Heart!

skarlett:
Thanks a lot dearie, I just started another today, 'The trial of Pastor King' kindly check it out, cheers

dominique:
We're still expecting the sequel to this story o, or you want to put it on okadabooks? I'll buy

Amenya96:
skarlett love this story was a bomb..... u re the best I rate u high over angelsss

Angelsss:
@Amenya96, did you have to mention my name?
I never told you I was contesting for writer of the year...
people like you give me writer's block...
I don't remember ever saying I am good.
Guide your words next time,Thanks.

OkoAnike:
Sorry about that dear, people just lack manner of presentation especially in a platform like this...

I was only opportune to read one of ur book (In love with her pastor) and each day i remember reading thru that story, I see a very strong & intelligent personality in u.

Thanks for d mature response, it's shows & tell so much about u.
Enjoy.

skarlett:
Dedicated to debonairprinx, yinkhar and bb4u


Twenty-eight

Blessing

When Papa killed Mama, he should have known I would have my revenge but that is the problem with evil doers. They forget that the world turns, likewise the people in it. I started having visions of his own death eight years after he buried Mama in a three feet deep grave in our backyard. Mama didn’t have any relatives alive and we had been isolated from the world for so long so nobody could prosecute Papa for Mama’s death.

“I have found work for you in Lagos,” Papa said to me the night I started dreaming about his death.

“I don’t want to go anywhere, I want to stay in Ibadan and complete my education just like Mama wanted for me,” I said defiantly. Ever since Mama’s death, I had started my own rebellion and Papa had come to see there was little he could do about it. That was probably why he was sending me away.

The fear was in his eyes when he spoke to me, “just look at yourself. I have found you a household where they have promised to send you to school and instead of falling on your knees to thank me, you’re defying me.”

I would have rather spat on his face than thank him but I couldn’t tell him that so I sat and thought of the most painful death for Papa. A death that involved fire and bitter gnashing of teeth.

That night when I slept, I dreamt that Papa died in a fire. It was my first vision after eight years and instead of screaming, I relished the feeling of watching him die. I didn’t see the cause of the fire but I felt the golden tongues of fire that roasted him to death. The air smelt foul and full of screams but inside, I was jubilating.

I woke up triumphant that night and realized that Papa’s scriptures were right after all. He that lived by the sword would die by the sword. It didn’t matter who would make my dream come to pass, all that mattered was, Papa would pay because my dreams always came to pass.

I moved into the Cole household when I was fifteen and true to their words, the Coles sent me to school. They were rich and had three adorable children who tried to make me feel like part of the household. But with Tinuke Cole’s big frown of disapproval, I knew I would never be a part of the household. I was only a house girl and my status would not change despite the fact that her first son who was six years older, liked to spend time in my company. He’d taught me to drive on my eighteenth birthday, secretly of course and when his mother heard, she had been displeased at it and that effectively put an end to our time together.

I served the Cole family for five years and then went on to serve their daughter, Feyi as a nanny. In all that time, my attraction for Dayo grew and on lonely nights when I touched myself, I imagined his fingers in where my fingers were on my cli.t, touching me and sending waves of fire through my blood. It was a sinful act to touch yourself, my father had always told us but I didn’t care. I felt alive when I pleasured myself, imagining it was Dayo doing it.

It was Usman, the gateman, who first climbed between my legs when I was nineteen. I saw him one night when I went to empty thrash pounding into a strange woman and making her scream like a bit.ch in heat. I watched them have sex and felt my own body respond to the act playing out before me.

I had never thought Usman a stud before then. I imagined all the men as half the man Dayo Cole was but that day I wanted to feel the pleasure the strange lady seemed to feel with Usman. I wanted to have Usman inside me so I set out to seduce him. Flirting came naturally to me and before long, I was the one writhing and moaning in pleasure as Usman’s thick co.ck went in and out of me.

We were bedmates for six months and most of that time, I imagined him to be my Dayo. I soon tired out of Usman even though he was a pretty good fucck and wanted the real deal for myself. I knew there was a path for me and Dayo and I decided to take it. One day, I trailed him from the house to his office. When his secretary let me in, he looked pleasantly surprised to see me and although I tried my wiles, he didn’t seem to get the hint. I left that day, disappointed but determined. He was my man and I would get him by whatever means.

In the years I lived in the Coles household, I never forgot what my father did to my mother and after five years of expecting news of his demise, I decided to take the matter into my own hands. My father killed my mother, a murderer, that’s who he was and I wouldn’t rest until he was punished. Papa’s God often said, ‘vengeance is mine.’ Well, if his God could delight in vengeance, how much more me.

Five years after I left, I returned to Ibadan. My heart thumped with anticipation as I crept slowly behind the house. Papa had started building the upstairs but it wasn’t finished and didn’t look like anybody inhabited it yet. There was no real need to crouch and hide as we still didn’t have neighbors. Papa had built the house away from the rest of the village, I always thought that gave him the reason to do his evil acts, unchecked.

Starting from the backyard, I poured the kerosene I bought on my way along the walls. I poured some on the doormat in front of the house. I sprinkled kerosene over everything I could see.

Tracy didn’t recognize me at first when she opened the front door. “Hello traitor,” I said and she seemed to remember me just then. All the years I’d spent away from our house, she never came to visit or ask how I was doing. She was truly her father’s daughter.

I locked all the doors from outside and poured in more kerosene through the windows to the house. She had gone to get her father and both of them were banging the door, screaming. It was just like in my dreams but what wasn’t in place was Tracy locked in the house with my father. It wasn’t time for her to die yet but I couldn’t get her out without my father escaping his punishment.

It didn’t matter, I would get my revenge, I thought as I struck the matches and lit up the floors. How speedy fire runs! I ran far away from the house and watched at a distance as the insides of the house was half consumed. Fiery red flames burst through the windows just like in my dreams. Tracy was upstairs in the uncompleted apartment screaming for help for her father at the top of her lungs. It felt reminiscent watching her scream like I did when our father whipped me.

I watched in amusement as she took a flying leap off the balcony when it was obvious there was no where else out of the fire. She broke her leg on her fall and had to be admitted to the hospital for weeks but she didn’t die.

When the villagers converged on the scene, I had slipped away unnoticed and my father was a blackened corpse caught under the heavy wardrobe that had fallen on him.

I told you my visions always came to pass.

*****
Dayo isn’t like most men, he certainly isn’t like Usman who wept and begged like a child when I told him I wasn’t interested in our nocturnal sessions anymore. He begged me to allow him enter one more time; ‘just the tip,’ he’d said but I’d laughed him to scorn. My Dayo could not be reduced to a beggar, he was successful and arrogant with his crooked nose. The type I wanted to see on our children.

I lied to my madam that I wanted to see my sick sister and instead went in search of Dayo at Abeokuta where he was handling the opening of another mill factory owned by the Coles. My intuition has never been wrong and it was what made me see I wasn’t the only woman interested in having Dayo to herself. I had a competition and I needed her out of the picture.

I followed them home when he dropped her off and after he left went to see her myself. I wanted to warn her off him but she was obstinate and she called me a lunatic.

Ha! Me, lunatic? Maybe I was for loving Dayo as I did but she had no right. She had a dirty mouth and when our conversation deteriorated, called me a bit.ch and cussed like a drunk sailor. It showed her poor home training, maybe I was there to instill some of mine in her. My father hadn’t allowed us use swear words at home, he said it was a sin and I when I couldn’t stand her vile mouth, I used her soap to wash her mouth.

It wasn’t as if I expected much of a fight because years of domestic violence in my father’s hand had made me stronger. But for somebody with such a dirty mouth, she was weak. She flailed helplessly as I pushed the soap further and further into her mouth. She kicked wildly on the bed we had eventually landed in but she didn’t even get one hit at me.

I stopped pushing the soap into her mouth and she held her throat, choking. Her towel was exposed now revealing her naked body. It didn’t give me joy to watch her struggling so I slipped out of the house just as noiselessly as I’d slipped in leaving nothing of myself there. I was scared but I had the sense not to leave evidence that could be linked to me in future.

For days I’d had nightmares of watching her torment and became suddenly reserved around the house. School registration was there to distract me and I turned my energy towards it until the day of Dr. Lily’s lecture on visions. I found someone who didn’t think me crazy and she became the mother I’d lost.

I followed the story of the death of the girl Dayo was dating even though it had hardly made the paper headlines. Apparently Seyi Lawal had been bleeping the dead girl and even though, his family tried to hide news of his arrest, I knew anyway that he was being convicted for Ifeoluwa’s murder. He had been found innocent of her murder a few months later but that had opened his can of misdeeds and he’d eventually been charged with fraud and embezzlement.

She had been unfaithful to my Dayo and so I felt justified for taking her life. It struck me as odd though, that he didn’t know she was dead. He didn’t even act like he’d taken his relationship with her seriously and a few weeks later, he started dating another who.re, Stephanie.

It was probably at that moment that I realized that I meant very little to him. All of us did. But Stephanie wasn’t going to get my man on a platter and Dayo would never find happiness with her. I would make sure of that.

*****
Omotola

The news of Dr. Seyi’s death had added a dampener to the Afolabi household, it was in the grim silence and the serious looks of the police officers. But outside the atmosphere seemed oblivious to the turmoil going on within. The brilliant sun painted the sky with the brightest of a palette of colors and the air smelled clean and fresh

Tbc