theinkheartblog

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

Month: February, 2014

Pain shot through her stomach as she bent down to ease herself. The pain had been constant for a while now but she was still not used to it. She got up gently, using the wall of the bathroom as support. For a while, she felt light-headed and held the wall like it was her lifeline. When she was sure the bout of dizziness had passed, she left the bathroom and moved on shaky legs slowly so as not to fall. She stopped at the kitchen, checking every nook and corner to see if she could find something to fill her tummy but everything screamed empty. She opened the medium sized water drum and almost fell on her knees to say a thanksgiving prayer when she found water there. It was a surprise the drum had not gone dry like every other container in her kitchen especially since she had been living on nothing but water for two days now.

She took a big bowl and scooped a large amount into the bowl. With unsteady hands, she carried the bowl into her room. When she got there, she set the bowl on the bedside table and made to sit on the bed slowly. Gone were the days she would plop into her bed with her belly full and no care in the world about breaking a bone or feeling dizzy. She missed those days when she had so much to eat, throw in the dustbin and give to some of her neighbours that she liked. Detoun had always boasted to those neighbours that she would never lack anything at home and that was exactly the reason she was locked in her room, drinking water like it was her favourite fruit juice. Sitting on the bed, she picked up the bowl of water and the sachet of sugar she had found in her box miraculously. She put a generous amount of the sugar in the bowl, stirred it with the bottom of her eye-liner; she was too weak to go back to the kitchen to pick a spoon and drank her makeshift lunch in one gulp.

Detoun dropped the bowl back on the table and laid down on the bed. Her stomach was full for that moment but she had that night to worry about and the next day. She picked her phone lying beside and checked for any new message. No message. Her mom had promised to call her today after she had sent her pocket money into her account. Sighing heavily, she dropped back the phone on the bed and willed herself to sleep but her subconscious had another plan for her.
“Detoun, what kind of useless pride is this, ehn? Instead of you to go and meet Tolu or Solape to borrow you some money or even give you small foodstuff, you are here drinking water and sugar”.
She ignored the tiny voice and fought harder for sleep but the voice would not relent.
“You know this is stupidity, ehn? Leave this room and go and ask them for help. Asking them for help will make you less of who you are abi? You are just so proud that it is pushing off the cliff and you have refused to open your eyes to save yourself. Maybe when you die of hunger, you will then start biting your finger in regret. Pride is not a thing to be happy with o. Better off your imaginary high horse and ask for help”.
Detoun tossed and turned on her bed still begging sleep to rescue but sleep was supporting team subconscious. When she could not bear it anymore, she screamed with the little strength she had.
“Oh, shut up. No one asked for your opinion. I’m not dead, you know. I can take care of myself”.
Her subconscious laughed hard, a sound that pierced her heart.
“Deceive yourself all you want. No one will miss your pride ass anyway when you die. More room for humble people to breath.”

She could not bear it anymore. She held her head in her hands and started to sob. Her subconscious was right. What was that thing her mom had always told her? Pride comes before a fall? Yes, exactly what was happening to her.

P.S: don’t mind the plenty errors that will be swimming in this post. And I look forward to reading your comments…. Thank you

He moved with the agility of a war lord who had conquered so many and has more to conquer. Heavy metals crunched gravels as he made his way through the crowd that had parted for him to pass. That day, he did not move with his most trusted and strongest soldiers. He could do things on his own. The people were in his palms, just as he had always wanted them to be. They knew better than to fight a man that could make their lives more miserable in a twinkle of an eye. Surveying the faces of the people in the crowd, a smirk broke out on his really ugly face and that made him more terrifying. Grime covered the faces of most and all of them were drenched in sweat; even the little ones. Their tattered clothes clung to their bodies as clammy salty liquid oozed from their sweat glands. Exactly how they should look. These people had been enjoying the grace for too long that they took it for granted. Now that the time of grace was over, he had the power to do as he wished with the ones that were unlucky not to go with grace.

He sat on the big metal chair placed in the square specially for him. The metal made a loud creaking noise as he settled his weight in it. A woman, as ugly and huge as he was, stepped out of a tent-like room. She moved with a gait that matched the man sitting on the metal chair. In her hand was a machine. It was not like the heavy machines they were used to seeing. It was smaller but still looked like a machine. Tiny blue and red wires poked out the machine and stood out like the antennae of an insect; a cockroach to be precise. The little equipment had lights of different colours running over it that looked like tiny volts of electricity. Handing a glove for the heavy man to wear first, she handed the machine to him. His smile was even uglier than his smirk; a smile that showed blackened and large teeth. The people cringed at the smile. They knew they were in trouble.

“This is a little experiment Cruella cooked up and I need a willing person to test it on”, he said tossing the metal from palm to palm. He looked around and eyed the crowd. His eyes settled on a little boy that could not be older than 13. He was very thin and looked like he preferred death to his present condition. Only if they knew death had been seized when grace was taken up and left them behind as his prisoners. Cruella marched to where the boy was and brought him forward to face him. She turned the boy around and raised his torn shirt up to expose his bruised back. He placed the blue and red wire on the naked skin and pressed a button. Current flowed from the machine to the boy and he fell to the ground. Cruella dragged him up and he asked the little boy a question but they boy could not talk. Throwing a glance of victory at her, he dismissed the little boy.

He stood up with metal chair making the same loud creaking noise. He cleared his throat and made his announcement.
“By this time tomorrow, all of you will be like that little boy. You will not be able to utter a single word. You can not write on the floor either. If you do, you will be punished. If you want to pass a message an urgent message across, you have to pay for the number of words. Let’s say, a finger for five words. Remember, there is no escape from here. You had your chance with grace. Now, it is the turn of no mercy”, he had that ugly smirk oh his face when he was done.

As he walked away from the crowd, the people began to murmur amongst themselves. Most turned to the early scapegoat and fear began to make them shake like leaves in winter. A finger for F-I-V-E words?! The oppressor indeed was a heartless beast….