₦airaland Forum

Boybreezy:
NICE.... follloowwinnng

Thanks for reading and commenting.

emperio212:
following

Thanks for reading and commenting.

Galaxdiva:
ftc

What do you mean?!

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


Laura had decided to pick out her most decent-looking outfit, for what seemed like a date with a pal from her camaraderie, which she used to be so passionate about, back then in their Schooling system days.


Laura had flabby and frail thighs, arms and a severe double chin. She looked at her figure several times through her dressing mirror, just to be sure she looked good enough to even shower to join her friend, Collins at the newly opened Ice-cream shop.


Being with an old Classmate and bonding with him at an Ice-cream shop seemed like a pathetic fallacy, but she had no other option than obey.


"Wear something classy at least. He might be dressed in a Suit, even when he only plans to meet up with you at a mere Ice-cream shop," Her Friend and erstwhile Classmate, Rita spluttered on the phone, when Laura asked for advice.

"Listen to Rita. She's a man's woman. She has dated almost every guy around town, probably even Collins too," Another friend of Laura said, her big mouth growing bigger as those words oozed out of her mouth noisily.

"I will just wear this instead," Laura said to herself, picking out the pair of shiny denim trousers and a spotless shirt, perfect for the weather.


The Ice-cream shop wasn't mere at all, like Rita had predicted. It was palatial and very fancy. The workers were agile, swift and friendly, making Laura tip a few, even when the law of tipping a worker didn't apply in the Country. She smiled and waited patiently, after ordering her first round of Ice-cream, waiting for Collins to arrive.


It was usual for him to be late. It happened a lot of times before, even during his Grandfather's funeral and his surprise birthday party, making his Sister, Emma eat a large chunk of the cake, just before he had arrived.


"Laura, is this you?" Collins asked, his question stupid but still managed to bring a worthy smile to Laura's gleaming face. She nodded and they hugged, feeling the warmth of his leather clothing. She could feel Collins' eyes all over her, making her squirm uncomfortably.


"You look ..." He wanted to say more, but she interjected quickly.

"You look really good, fat too," She teased him, making him flushed, in the most genteel manner.


Collins ordered yet another round of Ice-cream for both of them, as he hastily ate it and she watched him fight back a brain freeze. It was adorable talking about anything and everything, making her unruffled and unperturbed.


"It was really great doing this with you, Collins. Maybe we should do this some other time," She had rehearsed to say, after they had finished devouring their interminable Ice-cream rounds and looking into shiny eyeballs, willing to say anything passionate to one another.

"I would love to, Laura ..." Collins said, immediately she was heady enough to quip the words out of her head.

"But ..." Collins added slowly, making her heart skip. What was she thinking? Maybe he didn't like her and it was a mere date at a really banal Ice-cream shop. It couldn't have been something more, she thought.

"I'm chasing you but you're just not dressed properly for me to do so," Collins blurted out. It was the most unreasonable and swallow thing she had ever heard.

"What do you mean?" She asked, almost like a lyric to a golden oldie pop song.

"You aren't on Skirt. I only chase girls on Skirts. It's proper since I choose to wear Trousers instead," Collins had said finally, making her heart churn less.


Laura laughed out loud in the most hysterical way, making Collins laugh out loud as well. It was the most unforgettable thing she had heard and she had a frivolous idea to get rid of all of her Trousers, even the one currently on her skin.

Babacele:
filch n pinch. o boy what a euphemism?

Look it up in the dictionary. It's less of euphemism and more of analogy and synonyms.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


It was like a mystical land, so mystique with the people and things I had to see. There were so many people, doing so many things, drinking Wine, fit enough for a Wedding Feast and so much Cakes and delectable meals to satisfy five thousand hungry men.


I was dressed in a sheer dress, divulging my curves to hungry-looking men, who obviously weren't hungry for food but something else. I shook off the ogling feeling and tried to have a good time.


Incidentally, it was Tessy's birthday and she was fortunate enough to travel around the World, in less than 60 days. She was living the life with her new Man, the one who gave her anything, like it was just as easy to get Ice in Iceland.


Tessy took a few more photographs with friends and well-wishers, before she could settle to speak with me. We used to be Classmates, back then in our College days. We were still pals, but a lot changed suddenly and vigorously.


Her skin was sheen, smooth and fair, telling a tale of the food she ate and the places she had visited and mine was hard, dry and too dark, making mine bronze-coloured.


"Hello there. I didn't know you would make it. Thanks for being here, Cynthia," She said to me, making me smear a frown on my face. She smiled on and talked about my figure and what I smelled like. She was obviously trying too hard not to offend me, making me try less to fake a smile.


"I will be right back," Tessy said quickly, after we talked for what seemed like a second. I feigned a smile now, taking a proper eyeful of her footwear, emblazoned in tiny diamonds on the heels, making me look away, as if I would lose my sight if I looked further.


I retired to stand in a dim corner, alcove of the palatial room, sipping on my glass of White Wine and devouring my third plate of Cake. I was enjoying myself but too much was going wrong deep inside of me. Tessy was so perfect, her parties were luxurious, so prodigal and her lifestyle was supreme and I was counter-productive with all of these things.


As I sipped and ate further, I noticed a slight breath on my neck, making me disgusted and appalled. It was from a tall and gangly looking Man, his eyes lit in what I was inexplicable of, making my mind void and soul fret. He was so intimidating in the most unintelligible way.


"How are you? You look great!" He complimented, making me flush and blush. I looked nice to someone, someone amongst these affluent, rich-smelling and animatedly talking people, with porous and copious pockets. It was a mystique feeling.


"Thank you," I said, smiling genuinely now, not feigning any emotions.

"My name is Gregory. Gregory Williams." He said, taking my hands once more and looking deep into my eyes, as if ready to commit a crime of filch and pinch.


That was the beginning of a whole new world for I and Gregory Williams. He was my saviour and until I met him, I was nothing without him. He had to be the remedy to all of my throbbing problems.

mackhunter77:
Thank God this thread is titled THE EXAMINATION and not THE EXAM (a Hollywood movie) . It would have made a huge dent on the latter if this thread was named after the Hollywood movie......

Thank God Almighty I didn't make such error then. Thanks for reading and commenting.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


Linda Gracious Michaels. That was exactly who she was. Sometimes, she felt she was nothing more. Be the judge for this is her Story.


Life is one big Examination, its pen waiting and eager to tick our answers with the ultimate big red pen. We answer Life's questions, not always ready for its outcome. Sometimes, we study too hard and we make the little things our priority, just before another Examination comes.


Linda had always wanted to come first in Class. Her Father, being a Widower and an Ex-army officer would torment her soul to become first with all of those little exams.


At age 6, she was trained to remain first in line, her precedence and priorities crystal clear to always be the number one.


Indeed, she was trained mentally to never succumb to the little crumbs of Education and Learning. Growing up never gave her a warning that she had to fight ferociously to stay first in line, even when she didn't desperately want such things anymore.


It was normal to bribe teachers to pass. It was normal to know Someone that knows another to belong to the World of Someone. It was normal to sell a soul to become rich and known. It was normal to kill to become supreme beings.


That was an Examination Linda didn't have to study all-night for. In fact, she didn't have to study at all.


No one made it vivid to Linda that she had to fight a fellow female to become a Wife. Sometimes, she wasn't willing or ready to get into that Ring and fight, but she still got knocked-out, for reasons she would never understand.


Then came the time to starve, talk earnestly to a supreme being, while ignoring the scathing and impetuous comments of others, just to make another soul inside of you a reality.


For Linda, the Examinations never ended. Until its end, there would always be more questions to see and answers to tick.


In fact, more and more came, knocking on her door, like a thief ready for a moment of filch. She wasn't born or raised for these Examinations, but Life had made her the toughest person I've ever known.

advocatebaba:
HOPE DIS YA NEW STORY WIL NT TAKE DSAME TURN LIKE "THE DELIVERENCE" COX IT WAS TU SHORT... HP U WOULD CONTINUE DIS STORY BY POSTING MORE INTERESTING UPDATE...

I shall. I won't let you down this time.
Thanks for hanging around and commenting.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


My name, automatically being Melon Boobs, made me even more famous, my fame dispersed all around the Prison facility. I was too desperate to get out of this obscure place, but it would take me 10 endless years.


For breakfast, for the fresh three weeks of being incarcerated, I was offered my Mama's food. She would prepare the nicest dishes, the one screaming and bellowing at my conscience for doing such a terrible crime, obviously making me do my time in Prison.


I tried to enjoy the Curry-seasoned meals, but my buds would rebuff the welcoming taste, making me wish to starve instead. A few of the other Inmates would tease me and call me new names, such as, Cry Baby, Newbie and so much more, I wasn't too comfortable to share with anyone.


For lunch, Mama would bring another round of meals, but since the Prison workers were obviously hungry too, they would eat the bigger share of the food, leaving crumbs for my livid belly. Mama would look into my eyes, asking if it was right to remonstrate but my eyeballs would kneel and plead, telling her not to say a word.


For dinner, we would eat the too starchy carbohydrate meals, making me notice my now fat and awkward belly and frail arms. I was a mess!


The other Inmates would make up jokes about one another in the tight and pee-smelling Cell, making me uncomfortable and unable to sleep for hours. Soon, it would be morning and a play-on-play with actions would repeat itself.


I eventually grew a sour face, just like my reputation. I grew pimples, skin rash and acne on my erstwhile fair skin, making me irritated, whenever I smeared my hands on my scaly skin. It was just like the others. I was just like the others.


I smelled just like them, after not taking a single shower session for days. I talked like them, whenever Mama came visiting with her meals. I acted like them eventually, after making a mess of daubed blood on one of the Inmates, with a really mean punch squarely on the face.


That was when the Prison officials stopped calling me, Melon Boobs and I grew a new name on my skin, now, Iron Hand. Some called me Iron Lady instead, but I was no Margaret Thatcher. I was a demeaning human, who deserved no sort of respect.


After the misdemeanour punch, I was forced like a petulant child to sleep in the most disgusting and horrifying Cell they could find. It smelled more like Poop now, making me wish for a refund for the Pee smelling Cell.


The next day, I and Sylvia, Cashew Boobs were also forced to do silly punishments, to pay for our previous offences with the other Inmates. When I asked Sylvia what she had done, she was rather mute, making me feel she must have done something worse than I did.


The Prison Officials bellowed and laughed at the same time, as I and Sylvia did all sort of humiliating and gruelling punishments, such as cutting the grasses, strewn all around the repulsive environment of the Prison, taking out considerable buckets of metallic-smelling waste, both watery and solid bodily waste and sitting directly under the Sun for a lot of hours.


That was when I missed the comfort of the Pee or Poop smelling Cells. My body racked and so did my soul. There was no other feeling like it.

advocatebaba:
COULD U PLS CONTINUE WIT YA OPEN-ENDED STORY

That's actually the end of the story.
Thanks for reading and commenting.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


My Mother, with that same old frown smeared on her face, like butter on bread, still managed to make me uneasy and uncomfortable.


As the car jerked some more, I wished I wasn't present in my current situation.


First, it had to be about me hitting my Father with a really huge stick, making his head almost split into halves. Then, I stole a substantial amount from my Mother's purse, giving it to a friend of mine, who couldn't afford the year's exam fee. I was Peter robbing Paul's Mother to pay Paul. It was more convoluted.


My Mother drove her car so swiftly, even with the dilapidated routes to The Almighty Gad Ministries. How could there be a mistake with something so easy. My Father would always say to me, "If I had known you would be a mistake, I wouldn't have made you come into this world at all!". I wondered if the Overseer of the Church known his staggering billboard had the greatest mistake ever with its spellings.


We were there finally, my Mother grabbing my ears and twisting them. Her blouse was now awry, I wondered how and why. It was perfect just before we left our house.


"Don't tell them you stole from me, you hear? Cut that out of the Story, I don't want the Prophet to know that I've enough money, am I clear?" My Mother said, sending a clear signal of her clarion call.

"I've heard you!" I said, totally oblivious about what was going to happen to either of us.


We were ushered into the confines of the Church. We paid a small fee, before moving to the Temple, coloured like the red blood cells in my body. It smelled of something I couldn't explain, something sharp and unpleasant but not too heady.


I and my Mother took off our Shoes quickly. My Mother threw her Shoes into her bag and revealed a new set, a shabby version. I was left with mine, I wondered why she let me keep mine.


Then, we could hear words of prophetic jargon, yells and screams, as if a demon had been torn from a human soul. My Mother yelled as well, making me gape at her, wondering if she had been possessed too.


"Your name is Anna. You're a possessed child and you shall be delivered today," The man in tight and ill-fitting clothes said, now placing a rod on my head.

"Yes, my name is Anna but I don't think I am poss ..." I tried to say, but my Mother grabbed a bit of my skin vehemently.

"You are possessed, my Child. You are 15 years old and your destiny is manipulated from your Mother's lineage. They want you to be disgraced and brought to nothing," The man said, now tweaking and shouting so loudly.

"I knew it! It has to be Grace or Nathaniel or even Tobias. They are using my daughter for their sorcery business. I knew it!" My Mother said, now tweaking as well.

"No! I'm not being used by anyone. At least, can you let me explain?" I asked, obviously bored and willing to run out of the madhouse.

"The demon is finally speaking. Speak on, Legion," The man said, grabbing a pot, filled with water and something red, probably oil, since it didn't mix with the water.

"My name is Anna. Who is Legion?" I asked, slapping his hands faraway from my forehead.

"Oh! She is truly possessed. She slapped me. Mother, your child has defiled a Prophet!" He said, now running to and fro, making his clothes almost pop.


When the melodrama was too much for my viewing pleasure, I ascended from my sitting position and strutted out of the Temple. My Mother stayed with the Prophet, as they prayed in Latin, just before I disappeared from their presence. They didn't even notice me leaving.


I took a Bus back home and sat next to my Father that hot afternoon in our cold sitting room, his head wreathed in swollen bandages.


"Where is your Mother?" He asked me, immediately he laid his cautious eyes on me.

"At the Temple. The Prophet is going to either deceive her by taking all of her money or just having sex with her. I couldn't bear to watch that happen before my eyes," I said, before walking away from my Father and appearing into my Bedroom, obviously too frazzled and willing to take a long nap.

Babacele:
I'm interested o, Remenzack,amicable etc make una write award winning stuffs ooo. etisalat money sweet.

Thanks for the mention. I'm interested as well.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


Mickey Palmer was the typical man, with a broad chest, really masculine features of a trimmed and nice looking beard, a great sense of humour and a rather commanding voice. He was tall, with really good looking legs, making his height unimaginable to everyone.


He married his wife, Nancy Palmer (nee Taylor), with the hopes of having too many Children all around their table and everywhere in their home. But nature rather cheated them, making them childless for many years.


Nancy believed she would eventually make her womanhood make sense by bearing a Child for herself and her husband, but that never happened after 10 years of inseparable union.


It was just another round of gist and a drink with his friends, Mickey was the linchpin of the business organisation he worked in for so many years. He was being celebrated for making so much millions with the tiniest financial deal, making him a Superstar to his camaraderie.


He was just having another one of his pint of Beer when he ogled at a fair looking young lady, her dress too skimpy for any occasion. He couldn't stop ogling at her, making her notice him rather too quickly. She dragged him to the dance floor, with her imaginary tentacles, as they swayed their hips to the tune of the Afro-Pop music.


They eventually landed in the lady's bed, enjoying their first tryst of inadvertent romance and love-making. It was just the first time for Mickey to act this obscene, with another woman, other than Nancy, making him vaguely impressed.


He and the lady, who he got to know her name the day after kept up with the routine of meeting up in either dark or obscure places, making each and every one of Mickey's fantasies come true, like a fairytale.


Mickey was willing to make the lady his legal and acceptable wife, since Nancy was still unable to make a single Child out of their active and living bodies. Mickey was slightly nervous, as he gnawed for days, thinking deeply how to break the news to Nancy delicately.


"Just tell her," The other woman said, rubbing his chest and making circles on his downward region, making Mickey squirm.

"I ... I just can't. It might kill her. We've been married for so long. I'm not a monster,"

"Is that so? Well, if you don't make me a wife soon, I won't be available to do all of the things you like. I will disappear, Mickey," The lady threatened in a tenacious tone, making Mickey fret all the more.


The following morning, just after 5A.M, he was racing his Car to the apartment, the place he truly belonged, with his loving and loyal as a pet dog wife, Nancy. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face laced in pallor when Mickey set his wary eyes on her. She hugged him delicately, as if he would break into tiny pieces.


"Mickey," She whispered, holding him close, before choosing to unbutton his Shirt. One or two of the buttons ricochetted across the room, since Nancy was rather impatient and hungry.


"What are you doing, Na-Nancy?" Mickey managed to murmur but she went on undressing herself next, once Mickey's clothes laid bedraggled on the floor.


After their unusual round of moans, heaves and yells, probably making the neighbours think deeply about their profanity utterances that early morning. It never happened with Nancy, Mickey thought. She must be under a spell or just drunk, he wondered some more.


They laid naked and spent on their stupendous bed, when Nancy whispered the five greatest words into Mickey's ears.


"We are having a baby," Nancy said, making Mickey's heart throb and turn. Mickey was incoherent, making him kiss his wife swiftly. She was neither drunk or under an enchanting spell. She was only pregnant, making Mickey a changed man forever.

DaVinci24:
D34lw4p, toocute4uall(f), moonnstar(f), AngelicBloom(f), elyna, Rachiebebe, calmie(f), remiseyi(m), Crusherdaniels(m), ugos3xxy(f), TOBIWHITE(m), silver94(m), Ego2(f), RemenZack(f), Girlyy, kingphilip(m)

I'm extolled with plaudits once more. Thank you so much for this.

Profoba40:
Kinda nice poem..... But seriously speaking, I believe you can write more.... . Something captivating and mind blowing

Thank you. Poems aren't really my thing so I was just doing more like a play-on-play with words.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


I remember seeing dead people for the first time ever, immediately after my Uncle, the one I called Father, since I had no reasonable Father-figure in my life.


Uncle Oscar was the kind to drink to stupor, his belly rising each and every day, just like the Sun. He would hit my Mother on several occasions and that one night, he dispersed my underwear from my skin, very ferociously, like a savage animal.


I remember seeing his almost invisible figure very close to the refrigerator, as he was always hungry and willing to have another round of his alcohol favourite. It was appalling to see him speak to me and I could actually hear him.


I was cowering at the corner of the room when he tried to grab me but he eventually couldn't. I could hear him speak so loud and clear, telling me how he enjoyed what he did to me that erratic night.


I was mouth-shut and when I was shut-eye every night, I could see more dead people. I could see dead Children and Women, I didn't even know personally.


That was when I decided to meet the Catholic Church's priest, Rev. Daniels. He had a bald head and a clean shaven face. He looked persuasive and I was willing to tell him my sins, even the ones I wasn't too willing to wash.


Rev. Daniels listened to me like a pendatic fool as I was coherent and unequivocal with my words and thoughts. He admitted I could have been possessed by an evil spirit, probably my Father's, after he stole from the Church a lot of years ago.


My Mother confessed she knew nothing about my Father's misdemeanour with the Church, before his disappearance to a foreign country for greener pastures, he wasn't so sure of. I told my Mother what Rev. Daniels said about my ability to hear and see dead people. She held me tight and asked if I had seen Uncle Oscar and I lied, I told her not another word.


I saw more and more of unrecognisable Children and Women I was unintelligible of. I could hear them muffle and mumble in a still voice, making me lack a shut-eye for nights. I told my Mother about what I had seen recently and she told me I had just seen my Aunts and many of my cousins, who couldn't make it in a Shipwreck, just before I was born.


Another night and Uncle Oscar appeared to me. He had a cigar in one hand and a glass of gin in the other. I wondered why Rev. Daniels never spoke about things like these in his sermons. Uncle Oscar was being sardonic once more, telling me how much of a coward I was. I wanted to scream but I ought to be wont with these sort of things.


The next morning, I woke my Mother from her peaceful slumber too early, making her let out a long sigh. I told her about Uncle Oscar's appearance and that was when she turned ashen, her face contorted in face, incisions of dismay all over her pale face.


"It's time you knew the truth about your Uncle, my dear. There's a tainted shade in every person and I'm willing to share mine with you." I remember my Mother saying those exact words before the actual story followed up subsequently, that made me doubt my own existence for a very long, long time. That was the end I ever saw dead people, even my Father, the one I called Uncle.

Randyblincks:
In *Sinachs voice* more of you... More of you... More of you...
Aunty RemenZack, come and update.

*In Don Meon's voice* This is the end!
Incidentally, Thanks for reading and commenting.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


At midnight, when the coolest of breeze would be injected into the system of many. It would make wailing babies sleep and the trembling old folks dream, while the young ones see visions.


But at Midnight for Kimberly, it was different and uncanny. She was tied and wrapped in a stymied force of trepidation and her unbearable fate.


It was exactly 12am, when the chiming Clock in her draughty bedroom made her heart skip. It was time for her to make her fate her best friend. She had been forced by her servile Mother, to marry one of these old men. She had to be a trophy wife, because her Mother wanted her to do so.


She had the most beautiful shade of cinnamon skin, a coaxing voice and almond shaped eyes but she was a becoming a frail, ugly and worthless hag, just like her Mother who ended up with her Father many, many years old.


Her Father was now old enough, never setting his dim eyes on her or telling her how beautiful she looked anymore. He used to be everything to her until he was scuppered down with a terrible malady. Her Mother never really did anything to help her old and dying Father. She was only a trophy wife and a rusted old trophy she was.


Kimberly felt so resentful that she was going to end up heartless like her Mother was to her Father. She was so indignant, sulking like a baby at the thought of laying next to the gaunt looking Husband and trying to bring pleasure to his old bones and frail flesh.


Her Mother would always say, Do it for the Money. Don't think too much. Use your head and not your heart. She wondered if that was also the reason she was the only existing Child of her Parents union. She had no Siblings, the thought made her think deeply some more, making her fight back the urge for a shut-eye.


It was past 12am and she could hear some noises downstairs. It was too loud, making her fret. She heard her Mother's loud cries, making her heart palpitate.


"Kimberly, come and rescue your Father from death. Kimberly, please come and help your Father," Her Mother wailed like a siren.

Kimberly knew the hour had come. She knew her Father was dying, just like her fresh age and young life was oozing away from her soul. She wanted to slap the cold hands of death off her Father but she resisted the powerful urge, taking control of her tremulous body.


"Kim, Kim! Please, come and help us!" Her Mother chanted once more, before a reverberation of ululate filled the whole ambience of the house and beyond.


Kimberly looked outside her Window and wished her Husband would be dead already as well, before running out of her room to be with her Mother and inanimate Father.

betterpikin28:
Story story.

Storrrrrry!
Thanks for reading and commenting.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


My friends warned me gravely, as if I were walking earnestly to my grave. I knew my grave would have the most fancy and shiny headstone, counting my achievements like blessings.


I was proud and elated with all of my achieved success. I hardly fell flat to the ground, letting just anyone step on me. I was supreme.


Just after another supreme round of a supreme drink with my supreme camaraderie, I noticed I was too drunk and useless to drive myself back to my plush apartment. I could see myself falling right there and then.


Just like an infant and a persistent Mother, willing and ready to feed her young one from her succulent Breasts, I laid like an infant on the laps of a young woman. She was different and something or someone I've never seen before.


She was just like a movie and I was tenacious enough to be at the Premiere, hungry and thirsty to see it all. The young woman's face was pale, ashen and so inscrutable. But all I could see was light, a really blinding light and enough emotions, I could see it all.


She kissed me and I drank the liquids of her swift lips. They tasted like the sweetest of wine and I was inebriated once more, but I didn't obviously care.


I told my friends all about my eccentric yet worthy experience with the mystery woman but they warned me severely that I was being bewitched, fooled and controlled, like a duff and underrated video game. All I could feel was happiness every Child would feel after beating his partner in several rounds of video gaming.


The mystery woman was there to speak to me in the darkest of hours and we would make love passionately and silently, during silent nights. I wanted her to make a noise or even scream like a damsel in distress but she was forever mute, devouring me and making me a mere and less supreme man.


It was after the mystery woman mysteriously disappeared and I never heard a single word from her ever again, that was when I noticed I fell in love with no lady but a Succubus, who took my soul and left me with my empty and lifeless flesh. I was nothing without that woman!

Always the first to comment. Thanks for reading and commenting, as always.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


I was asleep and sprawled on my small bed, with fluffy and plush pillows and linen clean smelling sheets, emblazoned with little bears and roses. I also had stuffed bears all around me, just to make me feel safe and warm, after Dad called that he wouldn't be coming home after work.


Mom was out all day, shopping for something I had inexplicable idea of. She and Dad has been spending so much time apart and it was killing me inside slowly, dragging and fighting my joys away from me.


It began to rain shortly and I was tempted to shut the windows, even though I badly needed to carry on with my sleep. I tried to fight back the temptation but it was too strong for me. I jolted out of my nestling bed and shut the windows.


My eyes were wide awake now, forcing me to play some soothing and tender Jazz music. Mood music was my favourite, especially when it rained.


It was an hour later and I was still awake and listening to Jazzy mood music. That was when Mom walked into a room. She was soaking sodden and glacial cold. She smiled at me and I held her. I ran to get her some warm towels but she said she was fine. How could she be wet, cold and fine, all at the same time?


She grabbed my stuffed face and spoke into my face, rather than my ears.


"Do not come outside to watch me perish, okay?" She said. I was nonplussed by what she just said, making me shake my head.

"Listen to me, Nina. Do not come with me. Stay inside. Whatever you hear, just ignore and try to sleep. It will soon be over. I just want your Father to be happy," She said again and I pushed her away from me.

"What are you saying? Mother, are you alright? What do you mean?" I asked, tears strewn on my face, making it shine and glisten.

"Just obey your Mother and do not come out of the house," She admonished, now turning her back and locking the door after her. I had no idea she was going to do that.


I screamed, begged, bellowed and hollered for her to open the door but she obviously didn't hear me. I could hear footsteps down the stairs and my heart was thumping and churning.


"Mom! Mom! Please, come back! Mom!" I cried in trepidation. It was futile.


That was when I tried to open the Windows but it was stuck for good. I tried to make it work but it was obviously a futile mission.


I swore I heard gunshots downstairs, making me get under my blanket in fear. I cried, shook and writhed, as if in pains. My heart was failing me quickly and suddenly.


After that, I was tagged the unfortunate girl whose Mother ended her own life with a stolen Gun. I was also the Girl whose Father has been making a fool of his inseparable union from his Wife, with his Secretary. I was a juggler of my own fate, juggling all of these things.

Thanks for reading and commenting.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


They invaded our land in the late hours of the night. My father, mother and ten siblings, unfortunately asleep couldn't hear the rushing and ululate sounds of sirens as they invaded our amateur town, filled with red mud and red houses, made of mud.


The next morning, the almost skinless folks got into our small red house and made us kneel before them. We wanted to look into their eyes but they stopped us rather too quickly and vehemently.


But I could spot the young girl's feet. She wore shoes, unlike me. She had a bright, fair coloured skin, unlike mine, coated in darkness and heat from the unfavourable weather of the farm land my Father owned.


The young girl said a word to the Soldiers and they made me kneel next to her. She smiled at me and that was the last I saw my family in a very long time.


I lived in the big house of the young girl. Her parents were harsh and rash towards me but the girl wasn't. She would make me stand next to her, while she preened herself and showered her pale skin with the finest of gold gotten from the roots of our land.


She would tell me how much she loved our land and how much it had taught her. I would listen to her intently, watching her beautify herself some more.


In the big house, she would sit with her parents and a few other stern looking guests, while they ate the exotic meals of our land. They would also drink the local wine, making me think deeply of my Father and how he would clamber on the tallest trees to get the sweetest of wine.


It didn't take too long before my Parents and other desperate and angry peoples of our land invaded the palatial houses and swathed lands of the White skinned folks.


I was suppose to be exuberant to meet my Parents and hug my Siblings so tight and warmly once more but I was ashen in fear and indignant. It was a new feeling, I couldn't even explain. I was pent-up suddenly when my peoples attacked the young girl's Parents and pierced them vehemently with their locally made weapons.


I was mute but I cried out loud deep inside of me. I watched my peoples grow more and more angry on the White skinned folks, driving them out of our land and threatening them to never return.


That was the last I laid my eyes on the young girl or any of the others that survived.


I got bits and tad of knowledge on how to do new things, such as making myself beautiful with ornaments I could find, greeting in a new language and sewing new clothes for my skin. I even got new shoes from the young girl for being such a loyal servant.


In return, we got an infertile land after years of silent war. Many of my friends were already carrying babies of abomination, after some of the White skinned soldiers forced themselves on them.


I looked at my peoples and wished they had gotten a better side of experience from the White skinned folks, like I did. I cried a little for our unfortunate land.

Babacele:
he he he....so y did Albert give d police d money?

Like he said, Bribing is the law. He had to.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


It was another Sunday, after Church hours with my Parents and two Siblings. My Boyfriend of two years, after being out of the City for weeks, finally returned back to Town.


Albert wasn't available to take me around Town during the Valentine's popular culture. He was going to make my Sunday special and I had no right to rebuff his offer.


We were inside his Vehicle, the one he had worked so hard to make his and I was enjoying the cool and tantalising air from the Air Conditioner, making the ambience draught for my sodden skin. My Siblings, Grace and Amanda were at the back-seat, taking Selfies and giggling like fools.


I and Albert were trying to do something romantic, to make up for the lost moment of Valentine's day but Grace and Amanda went on with their annoying badger and jabber.


I wanted to slap them across the face but I was patient enough not to do so, because I expected them to relinquish soon.


Albert decided we revelled at the new Eatery, located at the Suburbs of the Town. His vehicle was so comfortable and plush enough for me, making me sleep for a minute or two. Albert shook me suddenly and I moaned, making Grace laugh impish.


When I was shut-eye no more, my gaze was transfixed at a mean looking Police Officer. He had a scowl on his face, making me vaguely daunted.


"Look at you, sleeping like a pregnant woman. You're in big trouble, my friend," He said, now mocking me. His uniform was battered and it smelled so much of sweat and nothing else. For a minute, I thought he was a fraud.

"Albert, who is this Man? What's happening?" I asked, now yawning, forgetting to cover my mouth with my sweaty palms.

"This is a mild situation. I left my driver's licence back home and now, we can't go any further," Albert said, now proffering the whole situation but my head was full and so were my ears.

"What do you mean? Officer, you've to believe my Boyfriend. He is not a Fraud. He has a perfectly good Licence but it's not available right now," I said, my tone a little too loud and shaky, oozing my mood of bravado.

"That is none of my business! Out of the Car, all of you," The Police Officer insisted, now hitting the Car slightly. I was now angry but Albert was rather unruffled. My two younger Siblings jumped out of the Car, not giggling or taking any more Selfies. I was mildly pleased about that and nothing else.


Albert spoke with the Police Officer for a few more minutes, before offering him a considerate sum of money. I gasped and shook my head in contempt.


"Why did you just do that?" I asked Albert, while giving the Officer a mean stare.

"Because that's the law for them. Don't worry, we are free now, baby," He said, before placing a kiss on my lips. Grace and Amanda only gawped at us momentarily, without a tad of giggles reverberating from their systems.


We got into the Vehicle and I was in a mood of repose once more, enjoying the cool air while some songs from the stereo filled my ears until I was shut-eye once again. The next sound I could hear was Grace and Amanda throwing out expletive words from their mouths. Albert's vehicle was right in front of my Parent's residence, making me nonplussed.


"What happened? I thought we were going out for a treat?" I asked, my eyes reddish.

"Yes! That wasn't suppose to happen until I gave the Police Officer all of the money I planned to spend at the Eatery," He said, making me gasped once more, as if my heart had just been pierced. It was indeed a perfectly ruined Sunday Vibe.

Sorry for late replies. I've been busy. You're free to send an email then.
Thanks for reading and commenting.

When a one eyed man says, Hi, my eye is on you.

P.S - www.remenzack.com is thoroughly responsible for any of her posts linked here on Nairaland.


Unlike Jane, who had scuppered chains on her hands and feet for saying the wrong words once and repeating them over and over again, until she chuckled too loudly and strewn her hairs on her head. She was incarcerated at the St. Louis Mental Institute.


Father David advised she was growing insane each and everyday and with his invariably prayers and care for Jane, nothing should go wrong.


Jane was in a tattered and stained in ketchup shirt when Joan, her younger sister entered the untidy looking cell.


Jane looked lean now, her almond shaped eyes more forlorn and mournful. She managed to smile wryly at her Sister, who was ornate in gold and silver jewellery.


Joan smiled back at her Sister and offered to touch her hand but Jane moved back, her eyes now nonplussed and evasive.


"What's wrong, Jane? Aren't you excited to see me?" Joan asked.

"Ye- I mean, No. How did you get out of the Catholic Asylum? Mom and Dad wanted you to stay there and become a better person," Jane replied, her tone fervent.

"Yes, you're right. That ought to be the plan. But I had to get out and do something else with my life. I had to be freed," Joan stated, still trying to grasp her sister's hand.

"No! You belong to the Asylum. I belong to the outside world. I'm not insane. I can count 1 to 10 without any errors. You've to get me out of here, Joan," Jane screamed, now hitting her fists on the metal table. Joan's face became contorted as she watched her elder sister scream and act insane, even when she confessed she really wasn't. What an irony!


"I know, Jane. That's why I'm here. I came to invite you to my wedding ceremony. It's coming up in June," Joan said, handing her Sister a matrimonial invite card, coloured in white and smelled so much of roses.


"It smells lovely. Congratulations, Sister. But who is willing to marry you? You got yourself pregnant at a really inexperienced age and Mom forced you to relinquish the baby and also live in the Catholic Asylum. That's too much to handle," Jane said, her tone sardonic.

"Jane, that was a long time ago. He loves me so much and he doesn't care about my past. That's all that matters,"

"I want you to come and celebrate with us. You're specially invited, Jane." Joan said, smiling now.


Jane tried to smile but the scowl on her face fought back. Now, she just played with her fingers and the card twiddle in her hands.


"What is his name and what does he do?" Jane asked, now sober.

"His name is Daniel and he works at a Museum. He's a curator," Joan answered, putting more lip shine on her lips.

"That's not so good," Jane spat, her eyes sardonic again.

"Jane! That doesn't matter to me. I truly love him. What about Lionel, do you still hear from him at all?"

"Well, not really. I sent Father David to send him a couple of letters but he never replied any. I guess he's just busy,"

"I'm sure he is. Do you still love him?" Joan asked, making Jane's gaze transfixed momentarily.

"I do. I really do love Lionel. I wish we had more time to work things out and maybe eventually make a Child. But that's over now. I'm an insane brat, locked up here forever," Jane confessed, tears watering her face. Joan offered her a dainty towel to dry her tears.

"Thank you,"

"Look at the time, you've to go now. I've things to do," Jane said in a hurry.

"Things like what?" Joan asked, concern etched on her face.

"Like reading, praying and talking to God. God speaks to me too," Jane said, now playing with her hair and laughing hysterically. Joan smiled at her Sister and called out for Sister Ruth, the young lady that helped Father David run the Mental Institute.


"I'll be heading home now. Take care of my Sister," Joan instructed.

"Sure, Ma'am. Anything else?" The quaint lady asked, her smile wry and impish.

"Don't let her out of here soon. She's more than insane. She might hurt someone if she gets released anytime soon. Tell that to Father David," Joan added, before handing Ruth a considerable sum of money.


Joan adjusted the dress on her sodden skin as she walked out of the Mental Institute. She sighted her husband-to-be in the Car, as she waved at her. She kissed him fervently when she sat next to him. He had a smile on his face, taking an eyeful of her sight.


"How did it go with your friend?" Lionel asked, still looking into Joan's eyes.

"It was good. I even invited her to our wedding but I'm not sure she's going to make it," Joan said, smiling back at him, drinking his sight in as well.

"Oops! That's too bad. Let's go, shall we?" He asked, taking his hands into hers.

"We shall, my love." She said, peering at the Mental Institute once more, before the Car revved and they were gone and never coming back to the Mental Institute.