₦airaland Forum

I knew instantly something had changed. I didn’t think I could get anymore frightened but I was wrong. If the hairs on the back of my head were standing a few minutes ago, then they were doing jumping jacks right now. It was like I was no longer being chased by henchmen but the devil himself.

Tears pour down my face as I run heedlessly into the thick forest. Blades of grass slash at my legs, my throat burns, and my eyes hurts from straining them to see in the dark. The cold air seeps into my body through the sweat soaked t-shirt. . .torn to rags now.

Was it just this morning Beatrice was urging me into the most beautiful dress ever made?

“Oh child, hurry. . .you don’t want to keep your handsome groom waiting, now do you?” she said picking my wedding gown.

I smiled at Beatrice; I wouldn’t have survived mama’s death if I didn’t have her by my side.

“Up, up” she commanded like she used to when I was a child and like one, I obeyed.

She unzipped the dress and threw it over my head. She turned me around, zipped, straightened the bodice and then took a step back.

“Look at me child” She whispered

I did and saw the tears in her eyes

“Bless you. You look beautiful. . .just like your mama did on her wedding day” she reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a picture and handed to me. It was mama and daddy. Beatrice was right, I did look like mama. For the first time since my betrothal was announced, my smile was not forced.

“I do look like mama” I said my voice breaking.

“Yes, Yes you do” She smiled.

I continue to stare at mama’s face. I miss her so much. Why did they take her from me? Why did she have to die? Why did she leave me?

“. . . . the Chosen one” Beatrice voice penetrated my thoughts.

My head snapped up but she was already out the door.

This was not the first time I had heard those words spoken in that manner. . .almost reverential.

The Chosen one.

I wasn’t sure how or why but I knew something evil lurked behind those three words.

And running for my life in the middle of what was supposed to be my wedding night was not the best way to find out I was right.

Who is next. . . James Bond or Zorro?

LOL. . .makes sense. Oh well, she's not hurting anyone so it's shouldn't matter.

wildbubble:
thanks that was a compliment i need someone to help me spice it up a bit, i find it very difficult finding the right words to describe a setting. e.g the house was bursting full of people that morning, the rain made things easier for all of us, e.t.c i find it very difficult to go on. can you help.

You know, it's funny but that's exactly my problem. . .setting the scene. What I do is concentrate on creating my characters and then create an environment that will suit them. Seriously, if you pay attention, you can hear your characters tell you what they want. . .and no, I'm not crazy. LOL.

Just work on developing a well rounded character.

My Valentine, My Life

Christian Pop Music plays in the background.

Pink feathery pen bounces between pink tongue and pink paper…

Dear Diary,
I want to know my Valentine.
To Know would be happiness for all involved
To be involved is to own the ultimate gift
To own the ultimate gift is to be loved by him
To be loved by him is to be cherished
To be cherished is to be his obsession
To be his obsession is to be his life
To be his life is to belong to him forever
To belong to him means I can't be free
To be free is to take leave of him
To leave him is to brave his anger
To brave his anger is to make him mad
To make him mad will be the death of me.

. . .On second thoughts, I don't want know my Valentine


Please this is actually published as part of an anthology, so err. . .give credit should you decide to borrow it ^{not that I think anyone cares enough to want to borrow it} or you might have a lawsuit on your hands.

LMAO! Stillwater that was good, very good.

He's good.

Question for you. . .are you Bonjovi?

I fear so

I hope not.

Okay, I don't profess to be a good writer. . .so don't expect much.

This is what I have. . .

I hate Sundays

I hate wearing itchy dresses and a hat that makes my head hurt. I wish we could skip Sundays altogether and go straight to Monday. . .no, wait, maybe not Monday. Monday means school. I wish everyday was Saturday, that’s when I have the most fun except when Dayo is around. I don’t like Dayo; he’s always taking my things and hiding them. Sometimes I wish I was older so I can lock him up in the closet forever and ever. I know Mama will miss him but she’ll soon forget all about him because I will be the best child ever. . . not like him who breaks things and always makes a mess. I never break anything; Daddy says I’m a perfect angel.

I watch mama brush her hair; she is still in her slip which means it’s gonna be a long time before we go to church. Mama takes forever to dress up but I like it when she wears her makeup, sometimes she puts some lipstick on my lips but tells me to wipe it off before daddy sees it. I don’t wipe it off though, instead I lick it. . .it tastes like oranges.

I’m hungry.

Dayo comes into the room, he knocks down my hat. I knew he would do something to me but I’m not fast enough to get out of his way. Mama gives him the bad eye but he only smiles and runs out of the room. I hope he falls down break his legs so he stays at home all alone. When I get to church, I’ll pray to God to make me bigger than him then I can kick his bu. . .

Daddy’s Car starts.

I jump off the bed and run to the bedroom window in time to see daddy drive off. He has to be in church early because he is a worker. He doesn’t get paid though but we have money and nice clothes and shoes. Daddy bought a new TV, I like it better than the old one because it shows the real colors. We gave the old TV to the Johnsons our next door neighbors. They had no TV, Dayo says it’s because they have no money. I don’t understand why, I’m only six and I've got loads of money in my piggy bank and I don’t even have a job. Last night I heard Mama and Daddy talking about Mr. Johnson losing his job at the factory because he always got to work late. Mrs. Johnson does not work like Mama does; she stays at home all day taking care of the babies. . .two of them. I like the babies they are cute, like real dolls. Sometimes Mrs. Johnson lets me help feed them, she says they like me, I believe her because they always smile at me. They never smile at Dayo, I guess they know he is mean.

I wonder what will happen to the babies now that Mr. Johnson has no money. Will they die because they won't have any food. I'm scared. . .I don't want them to die, who will I play with? I want to ask Mama but I can’t, she’ll know I was listening in. I’m not supposed to, it’s bad habit. I’ll ask Alice, she tells me everything. I bet Alice won’t mind if I took some food to the Johnsons’. She buys the food and everything in the house but not with her money. Mama gives her some money and lists of what to buy. She says Alice is the best thing that happened to us, I suppose it’s because she cooks and cleans the house. She also walks me to school and back. I pray Alice stays with us forever. I like it when she pops Dayo one every time he messes with me. I always laugh when he starts crying, one time I laughed so hard, I puked on his shoes and that made me laugh some more.

Mama picks up my hat and hands it to me. It’s time to go

I wish I could stay at home with Alice, help Mrs. Johnson with the babies. Most of all, I wish I didn’t have to sit in the car with Dayo.

My body itches

I hate Sundays.

Thanks for the heads up.

It sounds interesting.

What kind of articles do you want?

bonjovi:
you guys, thanks for all the beautiful comments, i dey feel like Obasanjo now, and my head is sweeling, i need someone to stop the swelling, by constructively criticizing the story, and another person to refer me to a link where i can find good editors and Publishers. Thank you Protocol, for that special one.

Wildbubble?

Innards in your mouth? Ewwww Gross! I love it! Rotflmao, I wan/na hear more! I wan/na hear more!!

You are having trouble settling you say? Well it does take a particular type of body to live comfortably in hell but I have great faith in your ability fit in seamlessly. . .why you are already on the right path, putting your frustrations down on paper. When do we get to read the poem? Soon I hope.

Chicago almost broke me I tells ya, found myself writing about snow flakes, roses, rainbows and whatnot. . .raped the paper with sugary sweetness, I swear I did. Then one day, I saw an icicle hanging from the roof and thought it would make a perfect murder weapon. Imagined gutting my victim and then disposing of it by running it under hot water. . .Viola! The perfect crime. Suddenly images of the many things I could do with snow, freezing temperatures, slippery roads and the whole lot flooded my head and that was when I knew I was back baby!!! Ah. . .what a day, I felt reborn.

Well that’s my story. Hope to read yours soon and that’s why I’ll say…

Sai wani lokoci.

Lmao. . .I'm sure Wildbubble will thank you for your compliment. 

You are talking about the pix above, right?

This is nice. . .well paced, not giving too much too soon leaving the audience wanting more.

What do you need help with?

How long does it have to be?

nanaboi:
Sisikill,

You're definitely a killer because u murder my reputation in cold blood every time I read your posts and crack up in public, in full glare of everybody - chix as well - who might thik I'm crazy.

And tho i'd love 2 pay u back in your own blood, I'm not a killer.

Bac k 2 what I asked previousli, in what part of hell do u reside? COz I'm the hottest part - Yola.

I'm still working on sending my own very morbid drabble, then maybe d appropriate evil mind will vet to ascertain if I qualify for the club. What d'u think?

*bows head in pretend remorse*

I’m sorry for killing your reputation. I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t. The knife slipped out of my hand and my fingers mistakenly pressed the trigger. . .5 times. Unintentional I tell you.

On the other hand, maybe it is the best way to unleash the killer in you ^{don’t say you don’t have one, everybody does.} Remember Chuck Norris in that movie with like 10 parts, Death Wish or something. He was a mild mannered father until his family was slaughtered and he became a killing machine. Yep, we’re going to Chuck Norris you here. . .are you ready?

I used to stay not far from your parts of hell. . .Kaduna but the gods thought I was having way to much fun and decided to send me off to cooler climate. . .Chicago. I guess they were hoping the cold would tamper my blood lust but the joke is on them because It’s only made me thirstier.

And you already qualify. .You didn’t head for the hills and there were no talks of calling a psychiatrist to “fix us” and a pastor to come bind the devil in us. See. . .you get it, It’s instinct ^{and you thought you didn’t have what it takes. Tsk, tsk, tsk.}

I held my breath as l listened to them come closer, my heart beating to the rhythm of their footsteps. They paused a few feet from me and it was then I knew the end was near.

I looked at the only thing I had managed to grab before making my escape. . .the photo of my parents.

This. . .me. . .crouched behind tall bushes was definitely not how they imagined this day would end.

I remember as a little girl sitting on mama’s bed, watching with childish envy as brushed her long beautiful hair.

“Mama, will my hair be as long as yours?”

“Yes, sweetie. . .Your hair is going to be longer than mama’s”

“Really?”

“Yes and on your wedding day. . .We’ll weave around like a crown”

“A crown because I’m a princess”

“Yes darling, because you are a princess”

“Will you be there?”

“Of course my love, nothing will keep me away”

But something had. . .something none of us had seen coming.

So here I am in a T-Shirt instead of a wedding gown, no hair woven crown. . .wondering for the millionth time how what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life turned into a nightmare.


Thank you Stillwater

Ah but you see, this is where it gets tricky.
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While life just passes right on by.

We have just one life to live
And It would be nice to do something other than
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Hoping against hope
Wishing against wish
That today just might be the day it happens.

“Faith, Must be enforced by reason, When faith becomes blind it dies.” Mahamat Ghandi

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah have Faith

But what is faith?

Is it not an excuse not to seize the world by the horns?

Faith. . .a perfect justification not to control our fate?

Faith. . .what man hangs on to when he don’t want to know what’s true.

Faith. . .the only lifeline for the down and trodden.

No! Without faith insanity will reign supreme. . .some would counter.

But wait. . .even with faith, insanity still wears a crown.

So tell. . .what is faith?

Like thrillers? I loooove it!

God bless your mighty heart!

A'ight here we go,