theinkheartblog

letting the ink tell the tales conceived in my mind………

Month: June, 2013

I searched the dump for left overs and was glad to find an almost full loaf of bread. The bread was enough for me and my baby sister and we would still have some left for dinner. The only thing left was water. My sister had been coming down with fever and it must be from the water we got from the broken pipe near the uncompleted building we sleep in. Maybe I should beg someone for money to buy sachet water and paracetamol for her. I could drink from the broken pipe; my immune system was way stronger than hers.
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It was mid-afternoon and I was lucky to get #100 naira from people. People were becoming nicer or maybe because it was friday and they were performing their religious rites. That was really none of my business. I bought four sachet pure water and two stick sweets for my sister. I knew she would be ecstatic about the sweet, it seemed like ages she had one. I rushed to our make-shift home and found my sister crying. I watched as the silent sobs shook her thin body and felt very sorry for her. She did not deserve to be lying on an almost bare mat I had manage to salvage from the dump ground, she deserved a big soft bed, befitting for a princess. Sighing heavily, I went to her, silently praying for it to be nothing more serious than hunger.
“Kanyinsola, what is it?”
She just looked up at me and cried more, covering her face with her frail hands. I gathered her in my arms and settled her on my laps. She felt very weightless and felt my own eyes well up with tears. She was malnourished and very skinny. I wish I could do more for my sister, something much more than just searching the dump grounds, begging for alms, doing occasional menial jobs to feed and cloth her. I knew I tried for her but I wanted to do more. I looked down at her and saw that she had stopped crying and was already dozing. Maybe she was just missing her big sister, I thought.
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I checked the face of a watch I made out of scraps. It was a miracle the thing still worked. I saw it as God’s special gift for me as I had found the face of the watch; the main engine, on my birthday. I just kept thing straps of cloth in the loop by the sides and tied it together and voila, a wristwatch. It was 7:47pm and kanyin was still sleeping. I checked on her to see if she was okay. She was sleeping and her temperature was almost back to normal. Thank God. I wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to her. She was my world. I sat beside her and watched as she slept, snoring very lightly. She was just the replica of my mother. A beautiful woman that did everything for us and her demise was a great loss. My father had absconded with the small stash of cash my mom had saved for us for the rainy days. I was not surprised, he was a drunkard who had always lived off my mother. I shuddered at the kind of life we would have had if we were with him. We were better off by ourselves and always wished he was the one that died. Life was not fair but I had promised never to dwell on that. I would make the best of the situation and become some one important in the society. I would turn the situation around for my sister and I by working hard. I would surprise everyone that rejected us. We would be a force to reckon with, that I was sure of. Life was being cruel and being successful was my only revenge.
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Kanyin’s Part:
It must be the smell of bread that woke me because I woke up asking my sister for food. She provided me with a huge chunk of bread and I smiled. My sister would always provide for me, she was my guardian angel. The bread was stale but fresher than the last one I ate. I was tired of bread. I wanted something better, something fresher but my sister couldn’t afford it. She paid our fees, tried her best to clothe me and feed me. I would not be an ingrate by complaining. I ate the bread and imagined it to be hot and soft with butter melting in it. It tasted better with my imagination. I roused from the mat and went in search of my sister. She was sitting outside, staring at the gloomy sky.
“Sister Damola”
“Yes, sweetheart”
“Nothing, I was just looking for you”.
She smiled at me and I felt so much at peace like we were sitting in a very big place with the proverbial milk and honey flowing in it. She got up, ruffled my hair and went inside. She told me to stay put. I did as she told me, wondering what she was up to. She came back seconds later, with her hand at her back. She told me to close my eyes and open my mouth. I rolled my eyes, my sister was just too mischevious. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, hoping it was not one of her many pranks. I smelt it before I felt it on my tongue. Candy!! I screamed, bouncing up and down with joy. I ran to her and hugged her. I caught her trying to blink tears away, tears of seeing me so happy. I hugged her more fiercely. She was an angel sent to me from heaven and she made my world so much better.

Posted by theinkheart

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Tumise got to the house just as B drove out of the parking space meant for visitors. On a normal day, he would have taken a good look at the petite woman that drove out like she had a dire need to be somewhere very important or registered the plate number of the car somewhere in his brain but it was not a normal day. He had just heard someone shot his wife and wasn’t thinking straight anymore. All he could think about was reaching his wife. Traffic had already made him late, he would not waste time giving a strange lady once-over when his wife’s life was in danger. He ran the short distance from the parking lot to his apartment. The door was opened. Tumise pulled out his gun and entered cautiously, just in case the killer was still there. He entered the sitting room and could almost not recognize it. Papers were strewn everywhere. Papers mixed with red liquid. His eyes automatically went to the couch and there was the lifeless body of his wife. He rushed to her and gathered her in his arms. He dumped her in the back seat of his car and drove straight to the hospital.
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B was frustrated, very frustrated. Things were not going as planned and were spinning out of control. The brown envelope seemed to have disappear and the don was specific about her bringing it back to her even if it meant committing murder. She kicked the wall and hit her palm with the fisted other. If the brown envelope wasn’t in the policeman’s house, it definitely would be in his office. She rushed out of the house not even bothering to close the door. As she moved, she fished out her phone from her pocket to call the don so as to alert her of her next move.
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Peter stood rooted to the spot for some seconds and just stared at tumise’s car moving on the not so busy road like he was being chased. He was torn between following him and going back to the crime scene to continue with the scrutiny of dead body and the little property she had with her. After a while, he shook his head and jogged back to where the body was. If Tumise needed him, he would find a way to get him there. He bent down and looked at the body. His intuition told him her death had something to do with the case they working on. He had a strong feeling that whoever killed belinda knew they were looking for her and the person had also known that titi adams and belinda richards were the same. He did not bother going through the scattered contents of the purse, he needed to see the ambassador. She had some answers to the questions already running through his mind.
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Tumise paced the waiting area of the hospital. He could do nothing but pace and pray. He saw the doctor approach and he rushed to meet him.
“Doctor, how is she?”
The doctor sighed and shook his head and that meant only one thing to Tumise but he couldn’t, wouldn’t believe it till he heard it from the doctor.
“Doctor, tell me. I’m a man, I can handle it”
“I’m sorry, Mr Badmus. We lost your wife and the foetus is barely developed. Nothing we can do to save that either.
“Doctor, what foetus?”, tumise looked at the doctor as if the doctor had the wrong patient.
“Oh? You were not aware that your wife was four months pregnant?”
“Pregnant? She was pregnant?”, tumise screamed and drew attention from people at the waiting area.
“Yes, she was and keep your voice down. This is a hospital”.
“Oh my God!!”. Tumise felt rooted to the spot. He could not move. He just stared at empty space.
For a while the doctor thought he was going to pass out but he didn’t. The doctor patted him on the shoulder and left. He shook his head. He understood Mr. Badmus’s dilemma. They’d been trying to get pregnant for six years and the wife had died just when God had answered their prayers. It was sad, very sad indeed.
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Tumise got to the and just sat. He could not drive. He was not sure he could drive. His life had just hit rock bottom. Becca was dead and she had died with their child. It was supposed to be their miracle, their testimony. Why Becca refused to share the news with him was a mystery that died with her and he was angry with her but mostly with himself. The killer had sent his wife to heaven prematurely because of him. Becca and his child were killed because he was a policeman. He hit his head on the dashboard like four times and welcomed the pain. Becca was gone and so was his life. Nothing seemed important at that moment except to find the person that killed his wife and baby.
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Kenny woke up feeling disoriented. She remembered B kissing her and that was the last thing she could recollect. She tried to lift her hands to rub off some of the haziness but she couldn’t. Her hand were tied to the back of a chair and feet were tied to sides. She was gagged with a scrap out of her cloth and kenny could taste blood. She looked around but saw nothing. The room was dark. Kenny shook with fear as she remembered her mother’s warning to stay off the case.
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B sat down in front of the small room, waiting for the don’s arrival. She was surprised at the turnout of the day’s event and congratulated herself at her victory. Although she was not able to access the policeman’s office, she had succeeded in kidnapping the ambassador which was piece of cake. She was still asleep when she got to her apartment. The lipstick was indeed powerful. The dumb fools she kept at the gate to keep watch over her deserved to sacked but that was not her problem. The money she was excepting as her payment had increased tremendously after successfully killing the policeman’s wife and kidnapping kenny. She mentally ticked off the things on her list she would easily afford after getting the money. Life indeed was beautiful.

Posted by theinkheart

Life was cruel. No, not cruel. There was one word aunty taught us in school today, she said it was a synonym for cruel, and it’s even a worse adjective than cruel. I can’t remember now, maybe I will recollect later.

Life was very cruel to me. I wondered what I did to deserve such treatment from God. I paid my offerings in church and also squeezed tithe from lunch money that mom / dad gave me for the week. I prayed every morning and night and read my bible all the time. I was nice to everyone around me because aunty Nkechi; my sunday school teacher had taught me that God told us to love everyone and be nice to them. Last week, I was still nice. I gave Lola; my best friend, some money to buy a new biro. She had lost her biro and had been really sad. I don’t like seeing people sad, I love to see people smile and aunty Nkechi had told us we were mini angels sent to this world to make people smile. So, as an angel, I gave Lola the twenty naira I had been saving to buy myself some puf puf after school. What is puf puf when I could be someone’s angel, I thought.

I did everything by the holy book, followed the ten commandments; respectful to my elders and I honored my parents. I did everything right, so how I deserved this cruelty is still alien to me. It all started on the day mommy had given me the news that I would be spending the holiday with her younger sister. She told me there were so many things she and daddy needed to sort out and they needed to do it alone. I respected my parents and would never argue or grumble, that was what the bible expected of me. They knew the best thing for me. My mom helped me pack my bag and as she did, I could not shake off the feeling of impending danger. Maybe it was because that was my first time away from my parents, I could not tell then. All I knew was, I had a feeling I would never return to my parents the same.

The journey to my aunt’s place was uneventful. My mom dropped me off after a long hug and promises that everything would be fine. I just couldn’t shake off the feeling it wasn’t going to be but, I smiled and nodded. If my mom said it will be fine, then it will be fine. My aunty and her children were nice to me, she fed me so much that I fell asleep on the dining table. I woke up later to find myself in bed, tucked sweetly into a very soft bed. I was still too groggy from over eating, so I slept back. I woke up the next day very late. Everyone had eaten breakfast except me. The kids were watching mid-morning cartoon and I was ashamed. Aunty assured me it was fine since I was tired and ate too much. She gave me too much pancakes to eat again. I remember laughing at the thought of going fatter before I go back home. We played and for a long while everything felt normal. The unnerving feeling of danger had disappeared until aunty’s husband came back almost late. It was 9:30pm and aunty had allowed us to watch TV until 10pm. He swayed in like an invisible fierce wind was pushing him here and there. Alas, aunty saw him and told us all to go inside our rooms and sleep. Something about the manner she sent us into our rooms was not just right. I felt a need to say around to protect aunty. How and why, I wasn’t sure. Resigned to fate, I went to bed after saying a little prayer for her.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into a month. My mom was constantly checking on me, assuring I would soon be back home. I wasn’t looking forward to home frankly. I was attached to aunty and her kids. As an only child, the experience was new to me and the novelty hadn’t worn out. The only problem I had was aunty’s husband but we saw him rarely, which to me was a good thing.

One afternoon, aunty had taken everyone out for a movie and ice cream. I couldn’t go because I had thrown up that morning and my temperature had spiked up. A nurse had checked me at home and confirmed it was malaria. Aunty, being the cautious one, had made me stay at home against my protest. She left instructions for the house girl to dote over me like a mother hen. She gave me her second phone and told me she would call every second to check on me. I must have slept off because I woke up to see aunty’s husband looking down at me. “Where is Memunat?”, I asked, my voice shook as I spoke. Maybe out of fear or because I had just woken up, I couldn’t tell.

“Mannerless girl, just like your mother. Don’t you know how to greet”
“I’m sorry, uncle. Good afternoon, sir”
“Whatever. Where is your aunty and the kids?”
“They went to Silverbird Galleria”
“When did they go?”
“It’s been a while they left”
“Why didn’t you go with them?”
“I’m not feeling too well”
“Oh, that is why Memunat was sitting by your bedside abi?”
“Yes uncle. Where is Memunat, uncle?”
“I sent her down the street. I wanted to talk to you”
“Okay uncle”
“Beauty, abi?”
“Yes, uncle”
“You are indeed a beautiful girl, just like your mother”.
“Thank you, uncle”
“Did she tell you she was the one I wanted to marry before her sister got pregnant for me? I loved your mother so much…
I watched as he prattled. Whatever he was saying made no sense to me. The man’s eyes were blazing with something strange to me. I was very scared at that. I made to stand from the bed when he suddenly pinned me down. He held me down with one hand and rubbed me with the other free hand. I felt nauseous, I struggled to be free but I only became weaker. “Uncle, please, let me go”, I cried but he did not hear me. He still held me hostage with one strong hand and freed his trousers with the other. Was uncle going to sleep with me? I screamed and screamed but I only heard the echo of my own voice. He was not fazed by my tears and screams. He pulled my night gown up and I knew I was in trouble. My pants were gone in milliseconds and the next thing I felt was beyond words. Uncle was very huge. He was fast and rough and I felt like I was going to die. I wove in and out of unconsciousness begging my brain frantically to shut down but it wouldn’t. He finished with me and with blurry eyes, I saw him buckle his trousers again.
“You will not tell anybody about this, or else you will die”
I shook with fear. He just hurt me and he was already threatening to kill me. I was perplexed. Aunty came back that day and asked me what had happened but I couldn’t tell her. I lied that my head was aching very badly. She believed and nudged me to take my drugs. I was twelve then, scared to death of what could happen to me if I told anybody.
I’m fifteen now and still living with my aunty. My parents never sorted their issues. They never had the chance. They died in a car accident almost a week after my incidence with aunty’s husband. Uncle makes it a habit to take advantage of me whenever he could. I’m still scared to death of what would happen to me. I have no one to turn to for help. I’m scared my uncle would carry out his threat or my aunty would throw me out accusing me of destroying a ghost marriage. I’m scared beyond imagination and with only you, dear diary, I can share my pain with…

Posted by theinkheart

I have a bad girl look or so I’ve been told and many times too. Whatever that means, I wouldn’t know. Sometimes, I go as far as asking some of the people that don’t really know me well, like some of my neighbors and course mates and they are always like “Alice, bad girl ni e joor. You look like that party freak, jasi kinda babe” and in my mind I go “mo daran o”. Most times, I try to argue with them but after a while I would notice it was a futile mission; they had formed an opinion about me without knowing me just by the way I look, the way I sometimes act like I don’t give a hoot about anything, the way I dress because I love to wear shorts and some skirts/dresses that show off my legs. P.S: I don’t have long legs like a model’s. I’m a chubby girl and that wouldn’t just suit my body frame but I have legs that are smooth, fresh and spotless. I know you’re doing the yimu thing but hey I’ve been told by many people so many times, so I love to flaunt my legs whenever I feel like it. Some even tell me they know I’m a bad chick from some of my pictures. Those pictures are pictures revealing a little flesh (did I hear you say you want to see? It is rated +30 *lolling my head away*) and I wonder if a girl can’t have pictures of her phone that makes her feel good about her body once in a while especially days that are not so great. My body is not the point, the point is why do people tend to judge you from afar? They take one look at you and they’ve concluded deep within them that this is what you are or who you are. I mean, is my picture supposed to be a determinant of how bad I am or the way I dress or by the way I joke with people? Why can’t people just take their time to meet you, get to know you before deciding what adjective they qualify you with? Some boys especially, assume you to be a loose chick because you’re showing a little skin.. I once had this guy on bbm that assumed me to be a very angry babe because of my personal messages and I couldn’t help but be astonished at how people can judge you when then they know so little about you.
Do not judge me, I might not be who you think I am. I’m a girl with so much love in my heart and I care a great deal about everything around me. I’m not some monster that actually gives attitude at every slight chance. I laugh a lot and I’m very jovial. I play with everyone around me regardless of your age or class. Why am I taking my time to stress this? (I know some of you don ask “how e take concern us”) I’m taking my time to write this because I’m tired of people’s condemnation about one particular thing or another. I’m tired of people pointing accusing fingers when they don’t even know jack about you. I’m tired of people jumping into conclusions about the kind of life I live because of something as trivial as my personal message or facebook status or tweet. I’m tired of people judging me. You see me in public keeping a straight face and you already deduce that I’ll be a proud chick. Have you ever thought if I had so much going on with me and I keep that straight face because it’s better than the tears I’ld have been shedding? You see my tattoo and you’re already screaming “that babe na correct bad girl” (and yes, I truly have tattoos. Two). Maybe you should call and ask me the true story behind the inked signs on my body or you think everyone with tattoo loves the pain that comes with and after drawing it? I know you’re already thinking “this babe should swerve joor, you only want to make excuses” and I’m thinking there goes the judgment again. Or because I have more male friends than the other sex and you already assume I must be a freak of some sort. Can’t I have male friends without any bad inkling? They see you talk with your friend in his car through the window and already think you’re making some non-righteous deal; the “olosho” kind. Can’t I talk to whoever I want and however I want because of some people that are so judgmental? I love to party, drink till I’m a bit drunk and dance till my feet aches. Is there anything wrong with that? I go to church for both mid-week programs and sunday programs and you sneer and say “omo esu to n lo church”. How did you know I’m with the devil? The devil discussed that with you or what? I just don’t understand how you know some things about me that I don’t even know about myself.
Don’t judge me, it only diminishes my appeal in your eyes. Maybe my message is irrelevant to you or maybe you think I’m the one who needs to check myself, yes I agree to that albeit a little. Check yourself too. Why do you take one look at my dp and form those opinions about me? Why do you judge with that one thing you have heard about me? Why do you choose to dwell on my past and make it a sort of reference page for my present? Why are you so quick to calling me a bad girl? Is it because you prefer to live on an illusion of what I am than to truly take your time to study me? Maybe you’re right or maybe you’re not… He without sin should cast the first stone!!!

P.S: this is for every girl like me… Judged from afar because of some certain irrelevant factors… It doesn’t matter what they say, we are who we are not what they say we are!!

Posted by theinkheart

P.S: I couldn’t find a more befitting title for this story than Oreoluwa, the name of the guy I’m dedicating this to. Ore, this is for you. I hope you find the one that truly completes you, someone like Cheryl…. I hope you like it 🙂

Oreoluwa stared unseeing at the screen of his mac book. He had a new software to develop and the program wasn’t just adding up. It was not an entirely difficult task; he had conjured harder programs successfully without much ado, this was even a piece of cake compared to his other works but he had a block in his brain that only allowed him to fumble around the work. Tired of coming up with nothing, he got up from the lone chair in his make-shift home office. Tomorrow was a better time to finish the work, tonight he had better things to do with his time than stare at his system all night thinking of what was it he was not doing right. He had to get ready for Cheryl, his new conquest from the office who had finally agreed to visit him at home. He went into his proudly furnished sitting and started putting scattered things back to their rightful positions. Satisfied with his work there, he went to his room to exchange his sheets for a fresh one. He hid his dirty clothes heaped in one extreme corner of the room in a knapsack and threw it on top of the cupboard. He looked around and couldn’t help but smile. Cheryl was a very neat lady. The way she kept her office always tidy and the way she always kept her office desk arranged showed she was a neat girl. He knew making an impression of having a neat apartment will score a goal with Cheryl and would get him to the promise land on time. He took a quick shower, wore clean briefs, a white round necked top and a checked shorts. He was a tall man with well bronzed body and wonderfully toned legs that drove girls crazy. He was hoping Cheryl wouldn’t be immune too. Contented with the what he saw in the mirror, he went to into the sitting room to watch tv program to keep him occupied till she came.
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Cheryl could not fathom why she had agreed to visit Ore at home. He had seen the way the man had ogled at her whenever their paths crossed. She had been uneasy at first but she got accustomed to his stares as it became more frequent. Sometimes she anticipated those stares and sometimes, she missed them. There was something about the way he looked at her. With those eyes, Ore made her feel so desirable, almost too beautiful. Something she had not felt in years. Ore just had a way of making her go weak in the knees. Although she had declined his recent invitations to go out with him, he had pestered her till she finally gave in and she was glad he did. She dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a cropped top, sandals and applied minimal make-up to her face. She didn’t want Ore to see her as a vain girl and that actually surprised her. Ore was not her type of man or so she thought. He was a man with very simple looks and except for his nice physique, Ore was slightly above the “okay” range. She was the type that fell for good looking men with fair skin, Ore was dark. She shook her head as she locked the door to an apartment. Maybe she was getting bored of the old list of what she wanted in a man or maybe Ore was different.
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Ore could literally feel his lower jaw droop to his chest. That was the effect casual looking Cheryl had on him. Her legs seemed endless in the tight jeans she wore and the glimpse of her really flat tummy did things to his insides that he never thought possible. Her lips were just too kissable, the light pink gloss she had use suited her perfectly. Cheryl looked so beautiful, even better than she had in the office. The girl was truly worth the trouble had gone to in cleaning his place up. Thank God she had not noticed the thing with his jaw. She looked round the sitting room, astonishment etched on her face. She turned her to back to look more and Ore’s jaw fell further. “Jesus!!! See ass!!”, he thought to himself, suddenly itching to grab her ass and squeeze till she could not take it anymore. He was imagining the many things he could do with those ass when Cheryl turned and spoke. He fought for composure and after a minute second, he won.
“What a lovely place you have. And very neat too”, cheryl said in an almost singsong voice that made Ore swallow. Cheryl was affecting him in a way could not comprehend. Maybe it was because they were alone in his apartment or because she looked so much better out of her office wears.
“Thank you, I’m glad you found it so”, Ore replied, finally finding his voice. He asked what to offer and as the usually girl shakara, she declined saying she had taken something before coming. He sat beside her and they started talking. They talked about everything ranging from childhood experience to pains and gains of adulthood. Ore found her so easy to talk to, something he never felt with his babes from the past. To Ore, they were not for unnecessary banter but to warm his sheets. Not that Ore was a soulless bastard, he had fallen in love once when he was in the university and it had gone sour. Ore was heartbroken and vowed never to allow anyone mess with him. It would be sex and sex till he was ready to settle down and that was still a long time away. But, something about Cheryl made him want to talk. His earlier urge to kiss some lips and grab some ass only had dissipated. He really wanted to get to know her and that surprised and scared him.
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Cheryl wasn’t sure who moved first. All she knew was they had been talking and the air had suddenly grown electrifying and she found Ore’s lips on hers. They were softer than they looked and he kissed so softly and sweetly like she liked to be kissed. Caught off guard by a new, surreal passion she had never known, she kissed him back and felt herself moan but didn’t hear it. Her heart was pounding so loud, her ears were roaring so loud, drowning the sounds she was making at the back of her throat. She pressed her chest against his hard muscled own in a need to feel more than just his lips. Cheryl was going mad with emotions she had never known and it was all Ore’s doing. Her subconscious tried to shove her back to the sane lane but she shunned it. Insanity was much better than sanity at the moment.
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Ore felt Cheryl’s mound against his and something in him snapped. The girl was driving him nuts and it was not just about the kiss. A part of him wanted to rid her of all her clothings and make love to her till she was weak. That part of him just wanted to carry of her to the bed and never let her out till she begged for freedom but another part of him wanted to go slow. It was crazy of him to think that since he had been fantasizing about having Cheryl for far too long. Go slow and know her better dawg, that girl is too nice for just a rump in the sheets, his subconscious spoke and he reasoned with it. Putting a stop to the heat of the moment was tough but he had to do it. Cheryl deserved better indeed.
“Why are we stopping? Am I sloppy or something?”, Cheryl asked, obviously confused as to why he put an end to the blissful moment.
“I think we need to go slow. You know, get to know each other better, date you like a couple more times before we decide to take this to the bedroom”
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Cheryl was stunned. He could not believe a man had actually put her above his sexual needs. The thought made her warm and it ignited a feeling inside her. If Ore wasn’t her type, he definitely was now. As his name, Oreoulwa, he was truly a gift from God.
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Ore sat on his bed and mused long after she had left. He almost berated himself for not going on with the plan to sleep with Cheryl but he cancelled the thoughts off his mind. That was not the time to regret, it was time to sort out his feelings for the sumptuous belle. Time would tell if she was truly the one for him but for now, he had a kiss to think about!!

Posted by theinkheart

She felt the gun at her back and could do nothing but follow the orders of the man holding her. She shook with fear as she was marched in a black car with tinted glasses. Seated on the plush leather seat, she knew her life was in a very grave danger. The burly man shoved a small bottle at her and motioned for her to gulp it. She wanted to question the man about the content of the bottle but she knew better than not to. The man motioned again with his hands for her to drink, pointing the gun at her head. Out of fear, she gulped the content. Almost immediately, she felt a burning sensation in her throat down to her stomach. It was so hot that she felt like tearing her insides out for the cold air to blow it. The man pushed her out of the vehicle and zoomed off leaving her wheezing and coughing up blood. Realization dawned on her at the first sight of the blood, she had just swallowed 150ml of acid. Weak, she fell to ground with a thud making people scurry away from her side like an epileptic. Minutes later, the unmistakable scent of death hovered above her and she knew her time was near. She clutched the sides of her cloth and felt her body ripple with convulsion. She coughed and spat out a glob of blood for what seemed like the umpteenth but it was not even as painful as before. She knew it would soon be over, the pain all gone giving way for a peaceful stillness. She coughed one more time but this time she didn’t spit the blood out. The red liquid trickled down her chin moving stealthily to her neck and chest, in harmony with the spirit leaving her body.
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Kenny smiled as the maid ushered B into the house, she had called her yesterday to inform her about her intentions to visit her at home and she was ecstatic with joy forgetting about the issue on ground. B had a way of chasing her ghost and she wished she was truly a guy. She would have been at the jeweler’s shop, ordering for the most expensive ring for her. She didn’t even waste time as she took her straight to the bedroom. She was too eager to actually know what B’s lips tasted like.
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B smiled as she entered in to the huge bedroom. Everything was too easy. All she had to do was get the ambassador to kiss her and the rest was history. She laughed mentally at Kenny’s gullibility and praised the don’s smartness. She had gotten her a poisoned lipstick to use. Once the ambassador had tasted out of it, she would be snoring loudly in no seconds and it would be a long time before she would wake up. By then it would be too late, she would have taken the file.
********************************************
Detective Inspector Tumise Badmus had just received a call about a dead lady found on nishola street, a stone throw away from his office. Not in the mood to wait for the police van to get ready, he took his own car and went straight to the scene. People had gathered around the poor lady, most of them shaking their in horror or sympathy. With his ID card, a way was paved for him to reach the dead body for professional inspection. He saw flies perching on the side of her mouth with blood and felt sorry for her. A young lady in her prime had died and only God knows why. Maybe she picked an unlucky customer for the night and was killed for being greedy, who knew. Kenny shook his head, put on a latex glove and bent to pick up the purse beside her. He opened the purse and emptied the content on the floor not stained with blood. He noticed a small plastic that looked like a driver’s license. “A form of identification, praise God”, he thought to himself as he picked it up. He almost dropped the card as he saw the name on the card. He picked his phone from his pocket and called Peter.
“Come to nishola street, I just found Belinda Richards”
********************************************
Becca was surprised and scared to see a strange woman looking down at her. How she had entered the house was a mystery since she had locked the door with her keys when Tumise left the house in the morning.
“Who are you and how did you enter here?”.
“That is not the right question, so I’ll give you the answer to my own question. There’s a brown envelope containing some crucial documents with your husband. I need that envelope now!”
“I’m sorry, I think you should go to the office or call him because I don’t think I know what you’re talking about”. Becca was scared but she calmed herself and fumbled with her phone making sure the petite woman didn’t know what she was doing. She speed dialed her husband’s number and prayed that he picked it.
“I knew you would not cooperate, so I came prepared for you”. She brought out a gun and fixed the silencer. “Next time, don’t marry a police man. He’s the cause of your death”
That was all Becca heard before her world became black.
********************************************
Tumise heard something click, before the stranger’s voice spoke again. It was distant but still the words that were spoken. As he rushed to the car leaving a confused Peter in his wake, he heard the distinct sound of a bullet fired through a silencer. He dropped the phone and drove like the devil was on his tails.

Posted by theinkheart

He could not believe his ears. Maybe the ambassador was playing some sort of mind game with him, maybe he was being tested as to how much he easily believed things. On his way to the ambassador’s house, he had mused about who titilope adams was. He even deduced that she was a criminal and the money sent to her was a ransom paid to her to take care of something crucial. Maybe she was an assassin, paid to kill for Taiwo Peters but what he heard was not even close to what he had imagined, it was completely alien to his thoughts.
“Ehn? What did you just say?”, he said disbelief etched on his face. Kenny looked at him with a bit of disgust and amusement. It was the first time she had seen the detective with a doubtful look and the look made his mustache rise, almost reaching his nose. It took all of kenny’s will not giggle out loud. They were talking something serious and she had to be serious too.
“I’m serious here, detective Tumise. She and my sister had been partners for almost six years until her demise.”.
“Spies, you said? Titilope Adams and your sister?”, his look masked her own expression when her twin had first told her what she did for a living. She had laughed at the poor girl thinking it was a joke but when she had been convinced, she was shocked beyond words. For minutes, she could not utter a word, she just stared at her twin like a second head had sprouted on her neck
“Taiwo are you insane? Why would you choose to be a spy? Do you know how dangerous that is?”, her voice going higher as she spoke
“Calm down sis. It’s not much of a big deal. It’s a private thingy. I help private companies to fish out corrupt workers and that’s that. It’s not even dangerous. What if I chose to be a killer or something?”, Taiwo replied, obviously enjoying her sister’s discomfort over the issue.
“Private spy or not, it is still a very dangerous thing to do. Can’t you just consider dad’s offer of running the business? You’re very good with money and all”.
“Abegi, that will be such a boring life. I no fit dey stay in the office all day, shuffling between tons of paperwork”.
“Taiwo, be reasonable. This will be break dad and mum’s heart.”.
“Don’t go there, love. Besides, I don’t plan to tell them about the job”.
“What?? You want to hide this from them…”.
“Calm your tits, sis. My partner is outside and I don’t want her to form an opinion that I’m some mummy’s girl, so keep your voice down”
“You already have a partner, then this is true” Kenny heaved a heavy sigh that showed she had given up trying to change her sister’s mind.
“It is very true, bunny. This is what is want to do”.
“Okay, you know I’ll always have your back.”.
“I know bunny. That’s why I’m trusting you to keep this away from the parents”
“Okay, okay. Your secret is safe with me. So, can I meet your partner now”
“Sure. Let me go and call her. Between, her name is titi, titilope adams but her spy name is Belinda Richards, so call her belinda.
The sound of a phone ringing ended her connection with the past. She looked at the detective who was staring at the screen of his phone as if it was a lethal weapon.
“Are you going to answer that or…” She allowed the “or” to hang in the air as if suggesting the detective to fill in the gap.
“I’m sorry. It is my wife”, tumise said before rejecting the call. Whatever Becca had to tell him could wait. This was business and it was never him to mix business with pleasure. Turning to the ambassador, he asked “so, do you know where she lives?”
“That, I don’t know. She moved from the old apartment she shared with Taiwo.”
“And you know anybody else that knows her. Maybe the other spies?”.
“Sincerely, Taiwo only told me about Titilope”
“Oh shit! We need to find her and know what that money was for” Tumise muttered some cuss words under his and made to reach for his phone when kenny’s voice stopped him.
“I don’t think you can find her with that name”
“What does that mean?”.
“Taiwo told me that only few close people knew Titi to be titilope adams. Most people knew her as Belinda Richards”
********************************************
Becca hissed when she saw that tumise had rejected her call. The man was getting too busy for her liking and she missed the times they shared together but that was not why she was calling him. She was finally pregnant after six years of praying and hoping. She was dying to share the good news with her husband but it seemed the man had some urgent work to attend to. The news could wait and that would mean more time to get used to the idea herself.
********************************************
Peter’s phone vibrated and he picked it almost immediately without looking at the caller ID. He knew it would either be his girlfriend that had left the house in anger or Tumise calling to ask how far about the job. He had not even said the customary hello when Tumise’s voice blared through the speaker.
“Peter, find the contact address of Belinda Richards”
“Who be belinda again, oga?”
“Belinda Richards is the same as Titilope Adams
********************************************
The don was going mad with fury. She knew if the detective got to Titilope Adams or Belinda, her secrets would be out and that meant terrible danger for her. It was high time B and her killer got to work.

Posted by theinkheart

In case you missed the previous episodes, this is:
EPISODE ONE:
EPISODE TWO:
“Deacon, don’t just stare at the pictures. Say something”, Pastor looked hard at the deacon as if he was trying to decipher what was rummaging through his mind but the Deacon just glared at the pictures, searching in his mind the right words to utter. He knew he had not really been careful about the affair with the choir mistress but he had tried his best for it remain under cover till he would summon enough courage to actually stay away from the bewitchingly sweet nectar. He was still groping around in his mind when he heard the voice of his wife, lashing out condemnation words at him and Anjola.
“Pastor, ko le s’oro. The slut had given him something to eat and that thing had definitely wiped out the sensible part of his brain. He cannot think by himself except the mistress says he should. He has been turned into a gbewudanu by Anjola”, she ranted on throwing murderous glances at her husband and Anjola.
“Mama Bolu, please be calm na. At least listen to your husband’s side of the story if not Anjola’s”, the pastor pleaded, already smelling trouble.
“Pastor, egbami now. Omo yi ti gba oko l’owo mi o”, Mama bolu raised her voice a notch, tears now cascading down her cheeks freely like they’d been waiting for that moment to be independent.
“Mama bolu, stop with the crocodile tears abeg. Who snatched your husband abi you pushed him away?”, Anjola punctuated her short speech with a long, loud hiss that almost had the men covering their ears.
“Pastor, can you hear the prostitute? Can you hear the thing that she is saying? Instead of her to kneel down and be begging, she is insulting me. It is not your fault now, it is because the same mortar is pounding the yams in our pestle”
“Ahan, mama bolu. But you’re stubborn o. Keep quiet, let me hear what the deacon and sister Anjola want to say”
“E ma binu daddy, the thing is paining me ni sir”, mama bolu said, fresh tears flowing from her duct.
“Pastor, just tell her to stop with the tears abeg. She’s as guilty as we are o. In fact, pastor, you too have something to do with it”
“Ehn, Anjola? How?”, the pastor asked with his left brows almost touching his hairline.
“Where you not the one that sent the deacon to come to sunlight strip club all in the name of investigation. If you had called me and asked me about it, I could have said the truth.”
“Anjola, the church council needed hard evidence. It was only the deacon we could entrust with such task”, the pastor interjected.
“Pastor, evidence my foot. You people just want to use it to ridicule me in public. Abi was that not what you people did to Sister Bose and Brother Niyi when an usher caught them having sex in the church toilet. Me, I don’t like people embarrassing me so I used my sweet vices on the deacon. It’s not even his fault, I forced myself on him”
“I said it. She is a witch. Only witches will be dancing naked for people to see. See the way she is talking to the pastor. You deserve to be disgraced even at the headquarters sef….
“Mama Bolu, shut your mouth up!”, deacon olaiya shouted and everyone looked at him strangely like he had suddenly grown an extra head.
“Ehn? Baba Bolu, you dared shut me up? You this scornful sinner. It is not your fault na, it is the vegetable they gave you to eat”
“I said, shut up and nobody gave me anything to eat. I can’t sit and watch you say those things. Accepted the pastor sent me on an errand and Anjola seduced me so as to keep things secret, you were the one that sent me to find solace in the arms of Anjola afterwards”
“Emi? See the nonsense you are saying. Eh eh, mo ma daran o”, mama bolu retorted, clapping her hands dramatically.
“Mama Bolu, haba. Let the poor man talk. Stop interrupting him o”, turning to the deacon, “oya, olaiya, explain to us how mama bolu pushed you out”
“Thank you pastor. Since I married mama bolu, she had never made an attempt to make feel like the man I am. She always have to decide when we do things and how we do them. I wear the clothes she chooses for me, eat any type of food she cooks for me even if it’s not what I want. Mama bolu is always about church and the prayer group…”
Mama bolu hit her fist on the table, interrupting the deacon’s speech and everyone’s rapt attention. She stood up so quickly that the chair fell with a loud thud.
“Baba Bolu, you’re a devil. So you want me to go to hell fire because of one marriage. Now I know you’re just the devil reincarnated in human form and you’re claiming deacon o, ehn?”, mama bolu ranted as she tied her scarf around her waist, preparing for a fist combat with the deacon. The deacon shook his head and wondered he had ended up with such a lousy woman. A woman who thought he was not obliged to make a choice in his own home. He had always tolerated her, hoping the women’s forum would somehow open her eyes and teach her the ways to make a man happy. Frankly, he wasn’t all that bothered about the issue until he started the affair with Anjola. Anjola made him feel like a man with tons of choice, a man who could say no whenever it felt appropriate to him. She had been very submissive and respectful, something his legal wife had never shown him in the odd years they had been married. Apart from the shameless way she flaunted her body at the strip club, Anjola was the epitome of the woman she wanted mama bolu to be, maybe even a little wild too. A woman who would dazzle him in bed, draw him closer to God and give him something to always rush home to. It was a pity mama bolu loved her prayer group so much that she did not even see reasons with what he was saying.
“Mama Bolu, our marriage is dead. We are only joined in name and not the real thing. It was God that just gave us Bolu. Think about all the things you’ve done in this marriage and ask within yourself if I deserved such treatment. You need help and fast too”, the deacon said, shaking his heads in an attempt to keep his sadness at bay. He was silent for a while before he turned to the pastor.
“Pastor Temidire, I should thank you for sending me to the sunlight strip club. It opened my eyes to so many things. I know after this, I’ll be de-robed, so let me just de-robe myself here. I’ve chosen this because I can’t go back to my wife. She’s not just what I want. I want Anjola….”
“Ehn, Olaiya? What did I hear you say? You must be out of your mind. It is me and you, for better, for worse, till Jesus calls us into glory”
“You joke, woman. You’re too much trouble for me to handle. I’ve found someone to give me rest of mind. I’m tired of your hypocrisy. I’m tired of you shoving your holier than thou attitude down my throat every time I did anything wrong. Mama Bolu, this marriage is over”, the deacon shouted with such ferocity that jolted everyone in the small office. The usually gentle and calm man looked violent, like he was about to knock the stupidity out of mama bolu’s body.
Anjola looked at Deacon Olaiya like he had gone crazy. Never had she imagined that the deacon would dump his wife for her. Although she had fantasized about being a permanent thing in the deacon’s life but it had always been what it was; a fantasy. She just stared on, dumbfounded and shocked to her very core. She was still deliberating if the deacon was saying the truth when he stood and took her hand, practically dragging her out of the church building into his car. They had driven well over forty minutes before Anjola could find her voice.
“Ermmm, what you said to your wife and the pastor, I don’t understand. I’m lost”
“Anjie, I was very serious. I want to make you my wife. You make me feel better and younger”
“But, you’re a deacon, a respected man in the society. I’m nothing but a stripper, a cheap prostitute in the eyes of many”
The deacon laughed, shocking and confusing anjola.
“What is funny, ehn?”, anjola said searching the deacon’s eyes for an answer.
“Anjola, nobody respects me, at least not after they hear the news and you’re everything. I want to marry you, Anjie. Only if you promise me you won’t go to the club”.
“What will people say? Your wife, the pastor, everybody in the church, your friends, your paren..”
The deacon did not allow Anjola to finish her statement before he shushed her.
“Anjie, I don’t care what they think. As long as you do what I want and make me happy, you’re as good as my world. Don’t you get it, I love you with your flaws and all. Even if I go back to mama bolu, I will still come back to you”
Anjola could only open her mouth. No words came out as she stared at the man beside her. She was excited and scared at the same time. Her heart swelled with fine emotions threatening to choke her. She felt his lips on her forehead and that was all it took for the emotions to over ride her senses and wash over her. Tears, tears of joy spilled down her cheeks. What she did to deserve such love, she never would know….

Note: in case you can’t comment here, you can follow me on twitter @emini_ANOTI or send a feedback to my mail: knottie2real@gmail.com… thank you so much for visiting this blog… I strive to serve you better.

Posted by theinkheart

Three Months Ago…
I sat on the bed and watched my friends as they “oohed” and “aahed” over the tiny gift box they passed on to each other, their purrs adding to my irritation. I wasn’t annoyed over the beautiful platinum ring with a giant diamond sitting atop it or the person who had bought it. In fact, a little part of me wanted to join them and moan silly till my mouth ached but a greater part of me resented my impatient self so much at that moment that I just wanted to break things, scratch the skin off my face and plow up the hair on my head. I felt so much anger rippling through my body at the thought of my foolishness. Why hadn’t I been patient? Why did I allow my feeble mind talk me into making a mistake so grave, it was now threatening my future. I wanted to cry so hard till the ducts have nothing to shed again but with my friends around me, I had to paste a plastic grin on my face; a grin that made all the muscles in my face ache.
“Iyawo l’ola, see how she just dey smile”, Gold said, playfully touching my cheeks. What she said almost wiped the silly smile off my face, almost. If only they knew.
“Gold, leave her alone o. Make she dey cry abi?, Bolu sharply came to my defense before I could utter anything.
“Abi o. The ring alone is enough to make someone smile for life. Eyi wun mi o- I will like this too”, Sope said joining in the banter.
“Me too o”, Bolu replied, eyeing the ring with pure jealousy etched on her face and she did nothing to mask it.
“Chai, that your Priere is such a romantic and very rich too. You landed a big one o, my friend”, Gold said and high fived Bolu and Sope.
Oh Priere, my poor Priere. My heart broke further at the mention of his name. He was too good for me and he did not deserve me. He had been so patient with me since we started dating which was five years and some odd months ago. He had showered me with so much love and did things no man had ever done for me. It was just too painful I would have to decline his proposal just because I had been impatient; stupid me.
Keisha Cole’s heaven sent filled the room and my friends rushed to pick my phone from where it was charging.
“Hmmm, your heaven sent is calling you o”, Bolu said, teasingly.
“Errm, guys, I need to receive this alone”, I said with an exaggerated wink that suggested I was going to talk about some X-rated stuff with Priere.
“Okay o, we will come back later and wear your ring joor”, Gold said as they all left the room. I sighed heavily at the suddenly silent room except for Keisha Cole’s voice. With shaky thumb, I pressed the green button.
“Baby, why didn’t you pick on time?”, Priere said in his sweet, gentle voice. That voice always did things to my insides. It felt like butter on a warm, honeyed bread. Nothing poetic can do justice to how Priere’s voice made feel.
“I was with the girls. I’m sorry”, I replied, trying hard not to sound so shaken.
“Oh, I should have guessed. I just wanted to tell you that you don’t need to rush. Take all the time you need to think it through but I’ll be glad if you say yes”
“I know baby. Can we see later tonight?
“Okay, my house or you want to go somewhere fancy?”
“Your house will do. We have to talk”.
********************************************
7:30pm; Priere’s Apartment!
I dried my clammy hands on my black shorts and drew short breaths to calm my nerves before I opened the door with my own key to Priere’s Apartment. Sighing heavily, I walked into the familiar warmth of his apartment. I stood for a while and looked at him as he flipped through tv channels. He was breathtakingly handsome and I had always thought he would have made a very wonderful cherub with his looks and his character. I felt the tears trying to slip out of their confines but I blinked them back. It was not the time to cry. I had to be strong and shun all emotions. He looked up and gave me his usual knee weakening smile.
“Hey love, come and give daddy some sugar”, he said in his usual playful tone.
I just stood there and stared hard at him. I felt sorry for him. I knew whatever I was going to tell him would break him but I had to. I couldn’t bear to live a lie with Priere; he deserved better.
“I’m pregnant and you’re not the father”, I said and rumbled on without allowing him to utter a word. I was scared if I allowed him to talk, I might not have the heart to go on.
“that night we went Amadi’s welcome party together and you left me all by myself to converse with that your ex that you said just got back from the states too. I was so bored, angry and I felt alone. Your friend amadi came and kept me company. I drank a little too much and we, we, we,”. I couldn’t continue, I felt my lungs close up like they were aching for Priere. I just fell on my knees and cried.
“What?!! You and Amadi?!! My best friend?”, Priere shouted angrily. I could barely recognize him or his voice. He was so angry that I was scared.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could turn back the hands of time. I’m sorry.”
Priere just turned his back to me and threw the remote control to the wall. The tiny shards of plastic flying everywhere, resembling the life I had left. I removed the small gift bag from my purse and left the house. I drove to a hotel I knew very well and lodged. I was not brave enough to face the rest of the world yet. With three bottles of vodka, I drowned myself in a pool of self pity.
*********************************************Two Weeks Later…
I never stopped mourning; mourning the loss of the only man I will ever love and fighting to keep the hatred for the life growing in me at bay. I looked at the hotel room littered with bottles of alcohol everywhere. I wondered why the alcohol had not pushed the baby out of my stomach. Sighing heavily, I got up from the bed and went to my purse. It was high time I got my life back together and that would start by charging my dead phone and calling my family and friends to assure them I was still alive. I plugged in the phone and turned on the tv, after which I went to the bathroom to scrub the grime that had accumulated on my body over the past weeks and brush the bitterness off my tongue. I spent almost thirty in the shower, the cold water washing over me felt like tiny tranquilizers to my aching heart and I felt more relieved as I left the bathroom. I called the room service and ordered my first healthy meal since I left Priere’s house.
As I waited for my meal to be brought to me, I switched my phone on and waited for the connection to be restored. Some seconds later, heaven sent filled the room and I felt myself stiffen. What does priere want? To ridicule me further? Out of curiosity, I pressed the green button.
“Hello, who is this?”, my voice sounded sharper than I intended which I felt was a good thing.
“I know you who this is. Zee, where have you been?”
“I don’t know, in my hole. Why do u care?.
“Of course I should care, you are going to be my wife”
“See, priere, if you’re calling to add salt to my injury, I’m not in the mood. I’m sorry to hurt you though”
“Zee, Zee.. Where are you? I need to see you. It is very important I see you”.
“Why?”
“Because, we need to talk. I guess you have not seen the texts I sent to you in the past days. Just tell me where you are, please”.
Something in his voice compelled me to tell him where I was.
“At goldina hotel”.
“I’ll be with you soon”.
I dropped the call and stared at my phone. It was too soon to call that a miracle. I was about to drop my phone when I started receiving messages. I checked them and saw they were from my parents, siblings, friends and mostly from priere. I opened one from priere and almost dropped the phone in shock
“Zee, please don’t do anything silly. The baby is mine. Please, call me when you get this.”
********************************************
Today, At The Church…
It’s my wedding day and yes, I’m getting married to Priere. I stared at the platinum ring on my finger and smiled at the turn of events. Amadi was impotent and could never father a child. I had forced him to go to several doctors to confirm that and was so happy when they all said the same thing. The baby was Priere’s and was glad he forgave me for sleeping with Amadi. Amadi had gone back to the states for peace’s sake. I smiled lovingly at the man in front of me. He had given me a second chance and I promised within me to make it worth his while.
“With the power vested in me by the almighty, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride”
I saw love in his eyes as he bent his head towards mine to give me the first kiss as his wife. I raised mine and kissed him with all the passion coursing through me; the cheers of the multitude serving as an adrenaline…..
*********************************************
PRIERE’s THOUGHTS…
Losing Zee over a sin even I could be guilty of was unbearable to me and I stared at her beautiful face looking very angelic in her cream cinderella gown with her stomach slightly protruding, I knew I had made the right choice. Though forgiveness wasn’t easy to choose, I allowed my love for zee over ride the past. I chose a moment to rise above the past, it felt so wonderful!! I’m stuck in that moment, never going to leave…

Note: This is dedicated to Priere. He forgave me easily for not posting the episodes of the stalwart knight at the right time; such a good man :).. I hope you like it! And to everybody, I’m sorry I’ve not been consistent with my series. Blame it on work, school and script writing/editorial classes! I’m sooooo sorry :*

Posted by theinkheart