This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.
This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.
I guess she made a simple prayer to the God we all haven’t seen, yet we believe in
I guess she knew that time will come when all of us will ignore her like a bag full of demons
She was scared of being lonely some day, some years and once upon a time
And so that fateful August night, she has allowed the man she loved to devour her soul
She had surrendered her all to this man she couldn’t love outside the four corners of their pleasure
I know you are confused, well, I was too when I first heard it
I couldn’t ask much questions
Not because I wouldn’t get answers
She has never been ready to talk about it
Sometimes I guess she gets scared I would walk back into her womb and turn into an egg that can’t be fertilized
This silence between us is like a hymen, Nayram, I know we have to break it but she still wants it to remain a virgin
I see sadness in her eyes each time I take a walk through the gates of her soul
I still see that fateful rainy Labour afternoon in May in her eyes
She looked so tired and worn out, her strength dwindling like a tired school master
She was old, she was four decades and some moons
I heard her whisper through the pain, “stay with me Afia, please stay”
I didn’t know I was the one, for I punished her more than those who came first
She fought for our lives,
And she conquered…
And the cord that made us one, she tied around her heart
Caressing with all the joy left in her weak heart
For the young life she saved,
The heavens poured out a sea of blessings on her
So when at night, the perpetrators come to take you away, I would be there to close the road to Bimbila
I would slash their throats and feed their flesh to the fishes of the sea
I would cuddle you in my sad arms and cry with you
I will always, and forever cherish those arms that put me to sleep when insomnia knocked on my feeble door
I will always adore those arms that carried me close to her heart and rained big drops of love on me
With these tiny fingers and my empty pocket, I will always be there
I will stay with you
Just in case those monsters you call children barge in
Chanting about a cursed place in Bimbila.
By: Afia Amoaa Oppong-Kwakye
In the lines I fused her scented smiles and perfumed laughter
Her bright eyes could have replaced the salutation but I thought they deserved their original place
When she read the poem,she tapped my shoulder and dived into my heart
She told me how my heart belongs to no one but myself
She looked at my stitched heart and shook her head
“You shouldn’t have written this
I can’t be there for you always”…
BY: Nahnah Nkrumah ON: 26th January, 2018
She smiled as she felt the cool breeze wash over her face like water and inhaled its sweetness. She loved the way it made the hairs on her hands and neck stand as if she were frightened. But she knew it wasn’t fear she was feeling, well maybe a little, of the unknown. But this was greater than fear. It was happiness. The kind that made your heart swell as if it were about to explode from your chest and make you scream and dance in the rain like nobody’s business. The sun seemed to be out on a bad day, she thought, but she was grateful to be in it without any restrictions after so many years. She took in a deep breath. Even the air smelled different. She blinked for what seemed like the hundredth time to make sure this wasn’t one of those long dreams she often had at night. She pinched herself and slapped her cheeks and gave out a slight moan at the pain she felt. It was real and she was free; free after being cut off from the rest of the world for a decade. The streets she’d once walked on, the colours of buildings she’d entered most of her life seemed vaguely familiar now. They’d once been her comfort and link to the outside world and everything seemed to come alive when she closed her eyes but like a basin of water on wild fire, it all evaporated and soon enough, she forgot what she even looked like or whom she was before it all happened.
She looked at the old, worn out jeans and the dirty blue black T-shirt she wore. It was all she owned besides the cream shirt with the little black stars engraved on them and the blue shorts and matching blue scarf, and even those had been taken back by the warden. For the better part of the first half, she refused to accept the fact that her life was going to change forever. She’d trusted and believed in the wrong people, people she’d held dear and called family. But after those five long, miserable years, she finally came to terms with reality. She was all alone, miserable and trapped in her thoughts, trapped in those ugly clothes and trapped behind those huge walls for a crime she did not commit. She had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, but that’s how her life had always been. Wrong timing was her middle name and it chased her like the way a dog with rabies ran after its prey. She remembered that day so vividly as if it were only the day before. The phone call, the broken glasses and the man sprawled on the floor with a knife thrust into his chest and the pool of blood he lay in. She shut her eyes as if the gesture would make those images disappear, as if she would wake up one day and it would all be but a nightmare. She wished she had never answered her phone when it’d rang and she wished she had never in a haste, took that taxi to the hotel and above all she wished she’d never met the one person who’d changed her life forever. She’d learned the hardest way that, in the society she found herself in, people with extreme power thrived and crushed the powerless with the soles of their expensive designer shoes. She wished she knew how to glue the broken pieces of her past together. She looked back at the gates that had shut out her dreams and hopes for one last time and sighed. How on earth had she even got here? She needed answers.
To Araba and Naa Lamley, there was a clear distinction between friendship and sisterhood. A friend was someone you added on Facebook or met at the store and had vague conversations with. A sister on the other hand, was someone who stood by you and shared in your joys and in your pain and saw the best in you when the rest of the world didn’t. Naa and Araba had a bond even biological siblings would be envious of. One did not, could not and would not move without the other. Where Araba was timid and shy, Naa Lamley was dauntless and outspoken. When they were in Primary School, Naa would often pick fights especially with boys who thought they could bully Araba because of her quiet ambience. People said she should’ve been born a boy since that would’ve suited her better. One would think she’d change as she grew older. Her character just grew stronger with each passing second. People called Araba the brains and Naa the fist. She’d been a tomboy since birth, Araba always teased her, so it became a real shock when in their second year in the University Naa had asked to borrow a pretty dress from Araba. She remembered that day she’d almost choked on her food when they were having supper in the hostel they shared. Araba had literally screamed in joy and told her friend she could keep the dress in addition to a pair of shoes she’d recently bought since they wore the same sizes. Naa had confessed she had a crush on a boy in her Political Science class who only saw her as another boy and she wanted him to notice her as a girl. Araba had even offered to make her up for her class the next day. Naa had found out later on that Derrick already had a special someone. Araba had vowed thereon, never to let Naa return to her boyish ways. Unfortunately, old habits were difficult to change.
Naa had not realized when her friend had changed so much or when the secret phone calls and the meetings had all began. The shy girl who’d been so scared of crowds and had once cried during a poetry recital and nearly peed in her pants in primary four because she couldn’t face all the eyes that were staring deep at her, had grown into a beautiful, fun loving girl who could barely stand to be indoors for just five minutes. Even the clothes she wore had changed. Naa doubted Araba even understood the word “decency” any more. There were most times in their final year she hardly came back to their hostel sober, or if she even came back at all. Naa was worried about her friend. Knowing the kind of background Araba had, she lacked nothing. Her father was a staunch political member of the ruling government, as well as the owner of the Anuanom Trust Bank, one of the biggest and fast growing banks in the country, five gas filling stations and three private schools. He had told his daughter he didn’t want her staying in any of the campus residential halls and had rented a private hostel outside campus because he’d wanted her to be comfortable and have her privacy. Araba had agreed, on the condition that Naa moved in with her. She only needed to snap her fingers and her wishes would be fulfilled. So she could hardly understand what Araba was doing in the cars of the numerous big men old enough to be her fathers, who often dropped her off at the hostel. Naa once identified one of the men as the MP of their district. She’d tried to make Araba see reason and had even threatened to report her to her father, but her friend would hear none of it. What more could these men offer her that her father already hadn’t?
Naa wasn’t sure what the lecturer had been saying for the past hour and a half. Worry had occupied the better half of her time. Araba had not been home for two days in a row and she wasn’t answering her calls either, something which had never happened before. Whenever she knew she’d not be home she called Naa asking her not to wait up for her. It was well past 9am the following day when Araba called her and the distress in her voice had caused Naa’s heart to leap in fear. She grabbed her purse and quickly changed from her nightie into the first attire she laid eyes on in her locker. It was moments after she left the hostel that she remembered she was in a pair of bathroom slippers. But she couldn’t go back now. Araba needed her. She didn’t even bargain as she usually did with the taxi driver when he’d told her the fare he would charge. She just jump in the back seat and told him to drive as fast as he could to the Coast to Coast Hotel at Kokomlemle. Upon arriving at the premises she just ran out from the taxi and headed straight to the fourth floor where Araba had told her she was.
Room 4011 was unlocked and so she helped herself in. The door gave a slight creak as she opened it and stepped in. Her eyes quickly darted to the bed in the middle of the room. Araba sat at the foot of the bed, bent forward, her arms resting on her thighs, head in her hands. She called out her name and when her friend lifted her head, she realized Araba was crying, her hair dishevelled and mascara stringing down on her cheeks along with her tears. She made a move to run towards her and stopped abruptly when she heard a loud crack under her feet. There were pieces of broken glass all over. The room was in an awful mess, her eyes scanning for any other damages; and then she saw him. He lay in the corner of the room in his boxers, his body as white as snow and a dagger thrust into his chest, his blood red and fresh. She covered her mouth with shaky hands to prevent herself from screaming and let out a loud gasp, her eyes widening with horror. What had Araba done? Araba raced towards her and hugged her so tightly she thought she was going to faint. She’d kept repeating that it was a mistake, amidst loud sobs. How does one mistakenly kill a man? Naa wondered. Before she could ask what had really happened, Araba’s phone rang. It was from her father and since she didn’t want her father to sense there was something wrong, Naa urged her to step out and answer the call. Less than five minutes later, two men in suits and a man in a police uniform walked in to arrest her. She’d told them she was innocent, but her story was unbelievable. She was alone in a room with a dead man. A man she’d found out later on was the Deputy Minister for Information, Honourable Nii Kotey Mensah. She’d given Araba’s number as her emergency contact, but her phone had been off. Over the next couple of weeks, she was interrogated by one Constable Awuni and when she didn’t give him what he wanted to hear, she was beaten up and tortured.
She couldn’t afford a lawyer, so the state offered her one. But there was nothing he could do either as all evidence it seemed, automatically pointed at her being the culprit. A receptionist from the said hotel had testified against her, claiming she’d seen her with the Minister the night before and that they usually came to the hotel. Somehow, her face had been in the CCTV footage they’d brought in as evidence. Her fingerprints had been all over the knife when she clearly remembered she had gone nowhere near the body to even touch the weapon. Even the Minister’s driver and two of his bodyguards had claimed they knew her. She’d sensed there was a foul play somewhere but she didn’t want to believe it. There was no way the girl she loved more than a sister and the man she’d looked up to and considered her father would do this to her. Her heart sank at the depth of their betrayal and she wished the dagger had been driven through her heart instead of the man she was accused of murdering. She was sentenced to ten years; something which her lawyer had even confessed was quite lenient for the crime she was accused of. She’d lived with an iota of hope that Araba would at least visit her just once to explain what had happened. The only remembrance she had of her friend was the guilt in her eyes and the tears that flowed with it when she’d hugged her at the hotel.
The urge to search for Araba and demand an explanation had grown stronger over the years. So many questions that begged for answers burned on her lips. But now that she was finally free she just felt tired. The anger and the hurt just weighed on her and the only thing she wanted to do was to just rest. Perhaps it was not in her destiny to know why the one person she’d trusted more than her very own self had stabbed her in the back with a sword forged with lies and deceit. She sighed again and looked at the uncompleted building before her and imagined the pain its occupants had endured for the past ten years. It was just as she’d remembered it; the wooden windows that had been weakened by termites, the rusted ceiling that often leaked when the rains poured, and the kitchen stool that always sat at the entrance of the door that led into the house that rarely had electricity, although naked wires were hanging on the walls all over the building as a result of the illegal connections they often did. Her father had been killed by a reckless driver when she was eleven, leaving the poor fishmonger with a daughter who was just about to enter Junior High School and a son who was still suckling at his mother’s breast to fend for. Her mother had suffered a terrible stroke upon hearing of her daughter’s demise. Being the older of the two, her family had depended on her and had hoped she would be the stepping stone to a better life. Her brother had visited her for a couple of years but after a while had to stop so he could take care of their sick mother. She felt a flicker of tear trickle down her left cheek at the thought of the woman who had given up so much to make her dreams a reality. Now, all she did was limp on those broken and crippled dreams.
Letting out the deep breath she’d not realized she’d been holding she took a step into the one place that had never changed with the hope that it would lead her to a new life full of possibilities where she would be able to pick up the pieces of her amputated hopes and aborted ambitions.
On 17th Jan, 2018
To this amazing guy Joseph Yaw Frimpong… JYF
Your collection inspired this
I found a new lover under the quietness of the moon when no creature could smell the colour of the moon
When I asked if he was human,
He smiled and filled my heart with moments I was yet to explore
When he blinked no tear dropped
Only a barrel full of broken memories belonging to his past
Then, I knew he was an angel
An angel sent to feed my soul with words
Garnish my senses
Season my soul with poems of my past as well as the future
He had a smile belonging to the first apple created in the garden of the Lord…
Afia Amoaa Nyamekye Oppong-Kwakye
To night history will be made
tonight the heavens will witness the exit of my innocence
To night I will be a woman
I wore mother’s lipstick and I got her smile
I couldn’t stare in the mirror for long I feared I would see the soft wrinkles travelling slowly in her island of beauty
I couldn’t put on her heels
I was scared I would see the uncertainties ahead
I saw the one I love and mother’s first love story hit my tender heart like a tornado
“He was handsome and lovely” she had confessed the night she told me
she had a sweet tear beneath her left eye
Mother stood in the door way looking at me
when I smiled,she got a heart attack
I looked just like her
my smile just like when she fell in love and the breeze visited her
I had that heart she loved him with
mother couldn’t utter a word
she just stared with much fear
Fear bigger than 3wiase
she prayed silently I wouldn’t be like her
she looked at me uttering soft huge prayers
for the one who looked just like herself
she saw in her, her reflection
I wrapped mother’s hug in my purse
it was her old purse
with a heavy heart, she stumbled on the thin line between love and life
she could see in my innocent eyes a fountain of rainbow
she found beneath the island of my soul pearls and rubies…
©Afia Amoaa Oppong-Kwakye
It was a hot Afternoon in the city of Accra,the rickety nature of the troski wasn’t making the already burning afternoon any better. The man sitting beside Sarpomaa was dozing with his whole weight on her. She thought it would be unpolite to wake him,”it’s a hot day , he might be tired”, she muttered to herself. As the car struggled through the “first light” traffic the sleeping was getting out of hand, the man was now drolling seriously she felt her shoulder wet and smelling. She gently
shook her shoulder and the man opened his eyes. He stared at Sarpomaa as if he has seen the devil. He sat up unapologetically and looked out of the window. She wasn’t surprised at all. She smiled and looked ahead of the uncertainties she was facing.
She got home quiet early. The silence in the house brought some kind of relief to her already bruised soul at least she can have some peace before really her father returns work.
She went straight to the bathroom and had a long soothing cold shower. Her life she wished was like the water moving freely on her body. She wished no one would tell her what to do, what to eat and where not to go at anytime. She felt like a bird in a cage whose keys have been thrown in the dark, she was like a prisoner. She stood looking at the flowing water and there She made up her mind. She knew exactly what to do. The thought of Gameli lingered through her mind and she gave a bright smile, she smiled so hard she thought she saw a light in her dark cage. “If father gets to find out, I know he will skin me alive”, she sighed sadly but with peace.
Later in the evening, she was reading in her room. Her attention wasn’t on the novel, she was far from her body. Her father had to tap her harder before she sensed his presence. Her heart miseed a deadly beat, her father sat on the bed beside her. She knew what he was going to say yet she listened attentively as the old man spoke to her. “Sarpomaa I know how hard working and loyal you are,I know you are trying your best as expected of you but you are the youngest no matter how heavy and poisonous the weight is, you should endure. If you don’t, they will stop paying for your tuition and you know I can’t afford. Sarpomaa look at me your father, I am old and weak now please endure for me, you know the child is never right in our tradition, it shall soon pass.”
Sarpomaa looked at her father so hard the old man felt uncomfortable, it wasn’t an evil look but he saw pain in her eyes. She made an attempt to talk but her voice was gone, she sat motionless till she felt some salty water in her mouth, then she realised she has been crying. Her father couldn’t bear the sight, he watched with pain as those diamonds flowed freely,he wish he could do something.
Sarpomaa just sat with all the tears and pains stuck in her throat. For the sake of father, she will sell her freedom and feelings to monsters she call sisters. She knew it will haunt her for the rest of her life. “For the first time in her 23 years living on earth, she walked the old man out of her room. ” She lay still crying and waiting for midnight to swallow her soul. She felt the pills with her sad fingers under the pillow. The tears were uncontrollable, “forgive me Gameli”was all that came out from her mouth…
I met Mamud three weeks after I completed junior high school. I was fifteen and he was around eighteen, I am still not sure about his age when we met. My naive heart was crushing on him. I met him through one rascal boy who wanted to take advantage of me. Mamud and I became so close I remember he travelled to kumasi during the early stage of our friendship, he didn’t tell me and I fell emotionally sick. I would stare outside in the street for hours thinking he would pass by. My sister was so strict she didn’t allow me use a phone, I didn’t even have his contact at that time.
I became so attached to him I was surprised at myself. I don’t know whether he felt that way too. My big sister with whom I was staying didn’t like the friendship because he was a footballer and a Muslim. She believed young and upcoming footballers were rascals and lazy. For the religion I don’t want to go there. What she didn’t know was that, Mamud was different from other young guys. And I really really liked him. When I got a small faulty phone, we could talk for hours, that time he was in camp at kumasi. I remember one time, he made me guide him prepare rice and stew.
Even when I went to the Senior high school, I talked to my friends about Mamud. My young heart was in love. I waited patiently for him to say the three magical words first but he didn’t. I still loved him. During vacations when I visit my sister, we still sat outside under the beautiful full moon and talked late into the night. My sister would talk plenty but I didn’t care, my young tender heart was in love. For four years, Mamud never said anything, the signs weren’t clear, I was hurting, I felt I was wasting my gay days, I was wasting some memorable moments. So when a guy in school proposed, I accepted him. Gradually I forgot about Mamud, I couldn’t get over him completely though.
Years later, Mamud got in touch and told me he wanted me to complete high school first before telling me how he feels . I couldn’t believe my ears, my heart was beating faster than normal, I became weak and helpless. I realised I still love him but I couldn’t go back to him. It was too late. I was scared of so many things. I was in the middle of so many uncertainties. The most scary one was religion, it stared me right in the face with ugly stained teeth ready to gnaw at my tender heart. Hmmmm
“I am scared Mamud, I can’t “, I heard myself say to him. I saw how confused he was, I couldn’t tell him anything again. From then on, there came to sit within us a vast gap.
Anytime I set my eyes on him, that
feeling rushes back. That naive feeling of a virgin heart falling in love for the first time. Those memories come alive,they begin to float in my heart and mind. That beast called religion
Maybe we were both at fault…
My heart missed a deadly beat, I robbed my eyes countless times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I pleaded with one of the onlookers to pinch me. “No this isn’t happening right? I am dreaming, I know, please wake me up, shake me please”. I heard myself screaming these words amidst tears.
This can’t be possible, he just left to buy me a packet of chocomilo and here we are in the middle of the street ,his face and arms covered in blood, my dress drenched in his blood and people staring at us like we are on stage in a British theatre. “Please call the ambulance, I pleaded.
Minutes later we were in the hospital, the nurses took him into the emergency ward, that moment, all the strangers who came to the hospital with me left. I was seated alone at the OPD ,I was so restless I couldn’t sit at a spot for three seconds ,I was virtually pacing up and down the room. I took his phone and called his mom, she didn’t pick up so I sent her a message ,giving her directions to the hospital. Half an hour later, a middle aged woman arrived, I knew that was his mother. She broke down when she saw me. I also broke down again.
We sat looking at each other without a word,was really high and awkward. I could feel the woman talked less . Nana Yaw rarely talks about his mom, though we have dated for two years I never bothered to ask why. He knew everyone in my family and my family was fond of him especially my mom. He has always brushed the idea of taking me home off so I never bothered to ask him again. I convinced myself he will take me home when the time is due. Minutes later, a nurse came to tell us he was responding to treatment and that we could see him for five minutes. I followed the nurse weakly, his mother supported me as we walked to his ward. He was sleeping peacefully, my heart jumped at seeing him. He had a bandage on his head, arms and legs. He opened his eyes and smiled at us painfully. I couldn’t control the tears so the nurse took me out of the ward.
Back in the OPD alone, I felt so bad, why is this happening on my birthday? Am I not supposed to be happy today? I asked myself these questions. I was lost in thought.
Moments later, his mother came to call me , “he wants to talk to you” she said.
I didn’t like the smile I saw, I knew that smile, and I realised he has been shedding some tears. His mother excused us when he asked for my hand.
He didn’t want to talk about the accident or the driver who took off after hitting him. He wanted to make my day memorable. He talked about the future and the power of dreams. He made me smile so much I told him how much I love him. I realised he was in so much pain, he could not really talk well but he was forcing, I couldn’t stop him either. He has the Heartime of a lion. Till he gets what he wants, he never give up.
From nowhere, a cold wind blew through the window, I realised he shook and the smile vanished. He told me to be strong and that he knows I am a strong woman. He asked me to forgive him and I should be happy when I leave the ward. I agreed I will do all that for him. His eyes began turning white and his body became stiff and cold. He was still smiling, I heard a far away whisper “happy birthday my love”, it was so distant I asked him to repeat it but no response came. At first I was alarmed but I brushed it off, I thought it was one of his jokes. I pulled the chair closer and relaxed my head on the bed at his side. I realised he wasn’t breathing, his eyes were now closed, I called the nurse who came rushed in with the doctor. His mother came and held me tightly, I didn’t know I was becoming weaker and weaker.
The doctor looked at me with sad eyes and shook his head.
The nurse looked at his mother with pitiful eyes…
I don’t know but i just found myself there, the place looked so isolated and lonely. there were no lights on the streets, the only light available came from the moon. how i wish she could come down so i ask her the whereabout of everyone. though she gave the place little light,she looked so sad,it was a starless night, her children failed to come with her tonight.she was lonely.
i just stood and couldn’t move.i was looking for answers, i got no clue.i was so confused i began to cry. the darkness around me was so heavy,i could feel it. at a point i thought i held it. the faint light from the moon gave me no clue to where i was. it was a strange place and i felt strange too. suddenly, i felt a hand hold my feet,i was so scared i didn’t know what to do,i even forgot i have hands to hit the faceless man.my soul raced out of my body,i could hear my own heartbeat, it was abnormal.As if by magic,the lights came and what i saw made me loose myself.
I didn’t know i was standing in a pool of blood, dead bodies everywhere. I could not even recognize where i was was,the walls and window sills were covered in blood. My dress had blood stains too. The scene was so horrible. At first, i thought i was a character in “Hotel Rwanda”. I remember shedding uncontrollable tears after watching that movie, i was a little girl then. i prayed silently and wished the earth will swallow me up that moment. But i thought of it twice, i cant share wherever i will be going with the blood . I was scared it will follow me underground.
The hand that held my feet, clasp it tightly, i couldn’t look down, i was just scared.I could hear some murmurings from the intruder.i searched my pocket for my phone but could not find it. “I need to call Ebo”, i muttered . Ebo is my best buddy, we were so cool together,we spend most times together. We went everywhere together.He wasn’t with me and i was wondering where he could be. The murmurings kept on till i mustered courage and looked down.
I couldn’t believe what i saw.
I saw my bestie, lying in a pool of blood almost dead. Wounded from hair to toe, without thinking wise, i got down on my knees and held him, i didn’t know whether to scream or cry. I was just helpless, instantly, i felt weak, he smiled at me in pain,he was trying to say something but the words were but a whisper,just then, he gave up the ghost. I couldn’t harbor the pain anymore ,i let it out.I screamed the hell out of me. then my screaming was shortened, i felt it on my head, not one or two but about five of them.By their smell, i knew they were rebels,by their breaths,i could feel the lives they have taken hover on their heads like flies on a bucket of mango.their presence and the scene made me realize it was a civil war.They were in blood stained ,tattered outfits,they wore wickedness on their faces but i knew there was an island called love ,buried beneath their wicked faces. I couldn’t breath, it was as if the air around me has suddenly fled because of my sudden visitors.Their presence suffocated me. A command vibrated from afar “kill her”…
“it is already day,wake up Esi, and why are you sweating like you were being chased in your sleep”, my mother sat by my bed waking me. I got up frightened, looked at the clock and it was 7:00 in the morning. i took my cell and dialed Ebo’s digits, “the MTN number you are calling is currently switched off, please try again later”. My heart missed a full beat, i rushed out of the room,i needed a glass of water, i know my mom was confused. I said nothing to her. I rushed to the kitchen and i couldn’t believe my eyes, Ebo was busily having breakfast with my brothers,they were arguing about the last night’s champions league finals.I stopped dead in my track. mouth and eyes widely open.
“hail our sleeping beauty, prince charming at your service” he said teasingly. I didn’t know what to do but i smiled and hurried to hug him. i missed him so much. I cant bear to loose him koraa.
Just wondering now, what if it was true…
She could do nothing than to stare at the ceiling, her mind was blank, her thoughts were empty. It was one of those things but this time, it was heavier than her world, she couldn’t handle it. It weakened her instantly, she couldn’t feel her feet, her arms were gone, her heart ceased, she went numb, only her eyes could see but it was blurry. Just like her whole life at that moment.
She has loved him with all her being.She’s learned to love him and cherish him, even at his worst. She was scared at first but as she learned to trust again, she couldn’t help herself but give her all to him.
She was good looking, not the type who will make you stare thrice, she was pretty cool, short and not so dark, she had silky dark natural hair which she kept well and she was decent as well. Some guys still went after her even in her reserved world. She always wore a nice piece of smile and she she laughed, it was as if the moon has descended on a dark land. She was just amazing in her own little way.
She had few friends.
She met Austin when she attended the SRC week movie night which was part of the week celebration festivities, it was her first time since she came to the school two years ago. It took her friends weeks to get her to agree to attend. She made them promise her they wouldn’t leave her to herself when they go. Her two close friends had many friends which she wasn’t cool with. When on campus, they stopped every inch to talk to someone, it really annoyed her, often she chose to walk alone on campus.
During the movie show, her friends slipped out of the hall without her notice, after the show, she stood outside waiting for them but they never showed up. She cursed yes countless times as she started out to hostel all alone. She felt a gentle tap into her shoulder, she turned only to stare into a dark face, brown eyes and pink lips. She was taken aback though.
“yes what can I do for you? ” she asked rudely
” hey chill yh, I just want to be your friend”, said the stranger.
She felt bad and immediately apologized for being rude. She later got to know he is Austin. They talked less as he walked her to her hostel. From that moment they became friends. She even forgot she was mad at her friends.
Austin was a final year public Relations student. He was known by every ant on campus but quiet reserved, he was the captain of the basket ball team. She has heard her two friends talk about him and how some of the girls are dying to be his. She never really paid attention. The next day after school, she was invited to lunch, she was shy and was quiet throughout the meal. Austin kept starring which made her uncomfortable. She cautioned her heart not to stare, she pleaded the butterflies not to play, her tummy wasn’t ready for that now.
After a month of being friends, she agreed to be Austin’s girl. Her friends weren’t cool but she was in love, they could do nothing about it, they just looked on helplessly. Austin was so caring, even when he completed school, he came by often to see her.
Things changed when she got to the final year, Austin was working that time. He had little time for her and when he did, he was distant. She didn’t understand till now.
Her two friends came over to her hostel and convinced her to go out either them, it was a sunny Saturday, she was a bit worried as Austin’s phone wasn’t going through that morning. She dragged herself from bed and wore a casual green flowery dress with brown flats. The sun was too scorching her friends called an ‘uxber’, she didn’t even bother to ask where they were going. They got to a nice hotel, it was a wedding reception, at sight of the deco, she eased up and forgot her mood. She loved weddings.
Suddenly, her friends became nervous and uneasy. They held her and asked her to be strong as she is in for a big deprive, the look on her face told her friends ‘just tell me what it is’.
“this is Austin’s wedding reception”. They said with tears in their eyes, they knew their friend will be broken forever. She walked to the front and saw Austin and her roommate laughing and giggling in their wedding gowns.
Without a word, she stepped out, she didn’t even know how she von back to her room.
Her world was shattered, she have no option than to mend herself and coil back into her shell
She didn’t even know how I happened. ..