“What exactly are you saying, Mrs. Ibekwe?” my wife, MaryAnn, asks the principal in that soft, calm, barely audible voice that had attracted me to her in the first place. She seems to be well in control of the situation, and thus I have resigned myself to watching and silently gauging the situation. I haven't yet felt the need to speak. Maybe if things got a bit more escalated....
I shoot a side glance at my daughter, standing between her mother and myself, fingers clasped in front of her, head bent low, staring at her feet. She's obviously trying really hard to look remorseful, but I know she's cooking up something in that mind of hers. I can almost see the wheels turning in her skull. The amount of intelligence my daughter possesses is far too advanced for her age, in my opinion. And, in as much as the outstanding academic performance that this intelligence yields makes me proud, it sometimes gives me cause to worry. This is one of those times.
Whatever she's scheming, a part of me knows I am the focal point. My darling MaryAnn is hardly the disciplinarian. She seldom ever yells, and never raises a hand to any of the children no matter how upset they make her. Well, at least not with Tobi. Admittedly, I am largely to blame.
Tobi is our youngest of seven girls. Yes, seven girls. As much as I'm ashamed to admit it, my actions and some words may have pushed MaryAnn to keep trying for a boy. When she conceived the seventh time, I was certain the child was male. Call me stupid, but I went ahead and got prepared without even so much as a confirmation ultrasound.
The delivery day was a punch bowl of emotions for me. I dare say I was even more anxious than my wife, who was simultaneously screaming and breathing. I stood next to her and held her hand while she pushed. I don't remember how she ended up in my arms. I simply remember the doctor announcing "It's a girl.", and then feeling something I couldn't quite describe as I held her against me.
I held her in my arms, and resolved that she would be my treasure. The one to end my waiting and fill the hole I'd left open, for what seemed like a millennium, in expectation of a male offspring. Nothing I bought was returned or put in storage. I'd spent good money in preparation for a son, and God forbid I let it waste.
Access to Tobi was restricted. I had a business to run, so I had to set up an office at home just to ensure she was constantly under my supervision. No creche or kindergarten, I was Tobi's tutor. Why waste perfectly good money on those ridiculously exorbitant babysitters when I could teach her all she would need to know myself? I selfishly kept Tobi to myself, away from her sisters, and time with her mum was the bare minimum.
Work started taking a toll on me, and I had to enroll her in a primary school. But I made sure she was thoroughly engaged with sporting activities, and I continued to spend all my free time with her. Showering her with trips and gifts, and spoiling her against my better judgment.
I taught her as well. To be strong, physically and otherwise, assertive, and hard working. I taught her what it means to be a man. To know what she wants and go for it. To never back down, never show fear. I built her. I thought I could mold her into the son I'd always wanted.
Most of this molding occurred on camping trips I started taking her on when she was eight. Sadly, it was also on one of these camping trips that things started to go awry.
Being with me all the time, Tobi had seen and heard a lot of things. Most of which she shouldn't have. I'd noticed she'd started behaving inappropriately, but brushed it off. At most, I scolded her on few occasions. That particular night during our camping trip is easily my worst memory. Thinking about it now sends chills down my spine.
At bedtime she complained of being cold, so I'd invited her to come share my sleeping bag. Waking up in the middle of the night to my baby grinding her naked body against me was beyond shocking. I'd stared in disbelief for a couple of seconds before addressing her. When did she take her clothes off? And why are my shorts pulled down? "Tobi, what are you doing?"
"I'm so cold, daddy. I'm just trying to get warmer."
"Where are your clothes?". Silence. "Tobi! I asked you a question."
"In the corner."
"Tobi, stop this right now and go put your clothes on."
"No."
"No?" Needless to say, I was beyond shocked. Tobi had never disobeyed me.
"No. I want you to teach me" And then I felt her tiny hands close around me. "Like the girls in those videos you watch."
My baby was jerking me off. I should have pulled away. I shouldn't even have been hard. But I was. And I was enjoying the feel of those soft, little palms slowly sliding up and down my shaft. And then, I made the single biggest mistake of my entire life. I whispered in her ear as my hand slid round her and cupped her mound. "You can't tell your mum, or anyone at all, about this.".
"I know, daddy. And you're mine now."
She'd gone on to torture me with guilt and threats from that day on. I was potty in her hands, and she bent me to her every whim and desire.
Getting her to go off to boarding school was the absolute worst. I'd pretended to be against it, but was glad my wife was insistent. Convincing Tobi was the difficult part. Eventually, she gave in when I told her people would suspect there was some inappropriate relationship going on between us if she stayed home.
Now, here we are.
My mind is drawn back to the present, and I watch Tobi intently. She's avoiding eye contact. Tapping her feet. “Tobi.” She looks up at me. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
“Daddy, I’m sorry. But I really like Anari. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.” The look in her eyes are defiant. Like she's secretly daring me to punish her. I'd taught her too well.
My wife starts to mumble something about her speaking nonsense and the principal is going on about one punishment or the other. I think she's suggesting suspension. But all that didn’t matter. My eyes are locked on Tobi's. Without her uttering a word, I know. This is her revenge for being sent away. Now, she was daring me to keep her away. Knowing there would be hell to pay for the decision I'm about to make, I paste a smile on my face and look up at the principal. “That won’t be necessary,” I said. And then I turned to her. “Tobi, go pack your things. We’re leaving.”
***************************************************************************************
Hi. So, I'm here again with my monthly post. This was kinda inspired by my contribution to decades II. Some of the comments made me decide to attempt to write it from the father's perspective. He's supposed to be the victim. I'm not sure how well I've portrayed this, which is why I'm putting this after the story. I wanted you to read it, and have your own individual, unpolluted thoughts about it.
So, please leave your unbiased comments below. I'd really appreciate it as I'm trying to broaden my scope (that's the correct phrase, ba?). Thanks.
20 September, 2011
09 September, 2011
Frisky Business - @ThisBoyPerforms
Today's pieace is by @ThisBoyPerforms. Personally, I like it because it's an actual story and not an attempt at poetry like most people seem to be turning in. Not that I have anything against poetry at all.
Anyhu, enjoy. If you're still interested in sending in a draft, that's cool. It's still eezykrys@yahoo.com. Please, try to make your pieces as creative and enjoyable as possible. Anything worth doing is worth doing well, no?
Cece out!
*kilzes*
_______________________________________________________________
His McLaren Benz was waiting, engine running, an attentive valet ready to usher them into the car.
She got in and leaned back against the plush leather. "This is crazy behavior," she said, tingling with anticipation.
"Crazy," he agreed.
"And exciting."
"You got it."
The car surged forward, scattering idle passers-by. He drove down the short stretch of road leading to the intersection, waited impatiently at a red light, and took off like a rocket all the way to his hotel.
"Why here?" She asked, as he helped her from the car.
"Because it's where I live."
"Good evening, Mr. Femi," said the doorman.
"No apartment? No house?" She persisted.
"This is home."
"Good evening, Mr. Femi," said the desk clerk as they walked past.
"No family? No roots?"
"Has anyone ever told you ask too many questions?"
"Frequently."
"Good evening, Mr. Femi," said the elevator operator.
They rushed into his suite like impatient lovers - which any minute they were to become. And as soon as the door closed they fell on each other with indecent haste - removing clothes with a no-nonsense speed bordering on the obsessive.
"Christ! You're beautiful!" He breathed.
She trailed her fingers down his chest. "And you're just as beautiful."
There was no conversation after that as he took her with a powerful urgency. It was something he had to do before he could even begin to think straight.
And it was like that for her too. They were both holding back, and their mutual release was fast and sweet - earth-shattering and very, very necessary.
Now they could relax and enjoy the sinful pleasures of discovering each other's body. Which was exactly what they did, slowly and luxuriously.
Leading her into the bedroom he laid her on the bed, and began - with exquisite restraint - to carefully explore every inch of her smooth, taut body.
She responded by touching his skin with the tips of her fingers, feather-stroking his chest, until his further pleasure became only too obvious.
"I'm glad to see you're a man of action," she murmured happily.
"For you - anything!"
"Just because you want me to talk to my father for you . . . "
Tantalizingly he started to kiss her neck, moving down at a leisurely pace, relishing the piquant taste of everything about her.
She enclosed his hardness with her hands and teased his unquenchable desire, until the slow, erotic pace of things turned once again into fervent, reckless lovemaking.
And after the second time they fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, peaceful and voluptuously content.
Anyhu, enjoy. If you're still interested in sending in a draft, that's cool. It's still eezykrys@yahoo.com. Please, try to make your pieces as creative and enjoyable as possible. Anything worth doing is worth doing well, no?
Cece out!
*kilzes*
_______________________________________________________________
His McLaren Benz was waiting, engine running, an attentive valet ready to usher them into the car.
She got in and leaned back against the plush leather. "This is crazy behavior," she said, tingling with anticipation.
"Crazy," he agreed.
"And exciting."
"You got it."
The car surged forward, scattering idle passers-by. He drove down the short stretch of road leading to the intersection, waited impatiently at a red light, and took off like a rocket all the way to his hotel.
"Why here?" She asked, as he helped her from the car.
"Because it's where I live."
"Good evening, Mr. Femi," said the doorman.
"No apartment? No house?" She persisted.
"This is home."
"Good evening, Mr. Femi," said the desk clerk as they walked past.
"No family? No roots?"
"Has anyone ever told you ask too many questions?"
"Frequently."
"Good evening, Mr. Femi," said the elevator operator.
They rushed into his suite like impatient lovers - which any minute they were to become. And as soon as the door closed they fell on each other with indecent haste - removing clothes with a no-nonsense speed bordering on the obsessive.
"Christ! You're beautiful!" He breathed.
She trailed her fingers down his chest. "And you're just as beautiful."
There was no conversation after that as he took her with a powerful urgency. It was something he had to do before he could even begin to think straight.
And it was like that for her too. They were both holding back, and their mutual release was fast and sweet - earth-shattering and very, very necessary.
Now they could relax and enjoy the sinful pleasures of discovering each other's body. Which was exactly what they did, slowly and luxuriously.
Leading her into the bedroom he laid her on the bed, and began - with exquisite restraint - to carefully explore every inch of her smooth, taut body.
She responded by touching his skin with the tips of her fingers, feather-stroking his chest, until his further pleasure became only too obvious.
"I'm glad to see you're a man of action," she murmured happily.
"For you - anything!"
"Just because you want me to talk to my father for you . . . "
Tantalizingly he started to kiss her neck, moving down at a leisurely pace, relishing the piquant taste of everything about her.
She enclosed his hardness with her hands and teased his unquenchable desire, until the slow, erotic pace of things turned once again into fervent, reckless lovemaking.
And after the second time they fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, peaceful and voluptuously content.
08 September, 2011
Midnight Guests
Hello! :D
So, I promised I'd put something up at least once a week while I'm gone. Think of this piece as a show of good faith (or whatever the phrase is). It a sequel of sorts to a previous post. For those who don't remember (I don't want to imagine you didn't read it), here's the link A Thief In The Night. I really advise you read it before this one, but... *shrug*
So, yeah. I don't really know what prompted me to write this, but I did. So I hope you at least enjoy it a bit.
Later luvies *kilzes*
_______________________________________________________________
Nelly Furtado was singing softly in the background for my personal entertainment, as I lay stretched out on my bed.. It was late, and I really wanted to be asleep, but the sandman had been stingy with his dust, and agro is a pissed off female dog. And dear Nelly, sweetly cooing to me, couldn't be asking any question more appropriate for the mood I was in. Why do all good things come to an end? About two months ago, I'd embarked on a late night adventure that hand scored me some serious booty. But that night, I laid there alone and horny.
It had all started when I wanted to purchase the PSP Go. I'd been anticipating a sharp decline in it's exorbitant price, and had finally gotten a good deal. I'd quickly withdrawn my savings and collected from all my debtors, but I was still a bit short. As a last resort, I'd turned to my cousin, Deola. Before asking, I'd made sure she had the money buy going through her wallet, so I wouldn't be asking for too much. Deola had lived with us since she lost her parents when we were still in secondary school. She was kinda like my older sister, but we didn't necessarily always get along.
I can not perfectly describe my feelings when she said "No." without looking up from the magazine she was reading. No excuses, explanations or apologies offered, just open rejection. I sat across from her at the kitchen table, stunned, upset and furious. I daresay my decision to steal the money was immediate. If she wouldn't give it to me, I would take it. What was she doing with money anyway? Nothing was coming between me and my gaming.
And so I bid my time, waiting for the perfect opportunity, and then I struck. I'd successfully sneaked into her room and taken the money, and was about to leave, when things got a bit out of hand. To cut a long story short, that night changed a lot of things between Deola and I. We began an affair of sorts. I started making frequent midnight visits to her room whenever I needed to take a load off, or whenever she text to say she needed me, and we would help each other out, the thrill of getting discovered by the parents making it all the more exciting.
We continued this relationship of convenience for weeks, and all was dandy. She never complained, and, as far as I knew, neither of us expected more than sex from the other. So, imagine my surprise when she cut me off. First, the texts stopped coming. I'd just assumed she wanted me to keep coming down whenever I felt like, and didn't dwell on it. Then she started giving me excuses whenever I went to see her. It was either her period, she was tired, or she had one pain or the other. It finally dawned on me what had happened the night I went down and met her room door locked. I knew better than to push the issue, and had returned to my room, dejected.
I sighed as memories of nights we'd spent together flooded my mind. The sounds, the smells, the amazing feelings, it was all too much and my hardening rod felt the same way. The only way I was going to get any sleep was by helping myself out it seemed, so I picked up my PSP Go, browsed through my collection of porn, applied some lotion, and let my hand get to work. It wasn't long before my eyes were closed and I was lost in my own fantasies of driving into Deola's wet tightness. Stroking myself as precum oozed out, I moaned her name several times. Softly at first, and then a bit louder. Secretly hoping she would somehow hear me and come to my aid.
"I'm here." At first, I thought it was in my head, but then my eyes flew open when I felt warmth around the tip of my rod. There she was, standing by my bed, all smiles and sparkling, lust-filled eyes. I glanced down and saw the cause of the warmth I was still feeling. Her friend, Anwuli, was at work on my shaft, sucking tenderly. I couldn't believe it. I opened my mouth to ask what they were doing, but Deola's lips were on mine before I could utter any words. Tasting the alcohol on her tongue as she kissed me, I got the idea. I didn't care if this was all a ruse or real, I was going to enjoy it.
I lay back on the bed as Anwuli sucked me off, pulled Deola on top me, grabbed her ass, and dragged her forward so her crotch was in front of my lips. She hadn't bothered with underwear, and my tongue gratefully snaked it's way into her honey pot. Warm, sticky wetness greeted me, and I sensed the fun had begun before they got to my room. I could hear her moan as my tongue probed her depths and my lips sucked and tugged at her clit, and the sound drove me into a frenzy. I started thrusting into Anwuli's mouth with a lot more strength. To my surprise, and amusement, I met no resistance. My shaft slipped in and out of her mouth, and, occasionally, down her throat, with ease. I felt myself tense and reached down to hold her head down as I thrust in deep and poured into her throat. She took it like a pro, swallowing and sucking every bit of my cum out of me. I hadn't even noticed Deola had slid off my face during my rush. I watched as she crawled over to Anwuli, dragged her head off my rod, and kissed her full on the lips. Oh crap. I was getting hard again.
_______________________________________________________________
Well, there. :).
Before I go, please check out @CapoeiraPanda's latest piece Goodbye. It's a response to my post Say Hello To Goodbye. You might want to read them side-by-side if you can. I just loved it so much, and want you all to see it :D. I apologize for the numerous links.
NB: Still accepting drafts. Send to eezykrys@yahoo.com.
...xo
So, I promised I'd put something up at least once a week while I'm gone. Think of this piece as a show of good faith (or whatever the phrase is). It a sequel of sorts to a previous post. For those who don't remember (I don't want to imagine you didn't read it), here's the link A Thief In The Night. I really advise you read it before this one, but... *shrug*
So, yeah. I don't really know what prompted me to write this, but I did. So I hope you at least enjoy it a bit.
Later luvies *kilzes*
_______________________________________________________________
Nelly Furtado was singing softly in the background for my personal entertainment, as I lay stretched out on my bed.. It was late, and I really wanted to be asleep, but the sandman had been stingy with his dust, and agro is a pissed off female dog. And dear Nelly, sweetly cooing to me, couldn't be asking any question more appropriate for the mood I was in. Why do all good things come to an end? About two months ago, I'd embarked on a late night adventure that hand scored me some serious booty. But that night, I laid there alone and horny.
It had all started when I wanted to purchase the PSP Go. I'd been anticipating a sharp decline in it's exorbitant price, and had finally gotten a good deal. I'd quickly withdrawn my savings and collected from all my debtors, but I was still a bit short. As a last resort, I'd turned to my cousin, Deola. Before asking, I'd made sure she had the money buy going through her wallet, so I wouldn't be asking for too much. Deola had lived with us since she lost her parents when we were still in secondary school. She was kinda like my older sister, but we didn't necessarily always get along.
I can not perfectly describe my feelings when she said "No." without looking up from the magazine she was reading. No excuses, explanations or apologies offered, just open rejection. I sat across from her at the kitchen table, stunned, upset and furious. I daresay my decision to steal the money was immediate. If she wouldn't give it to me, I would take it. What was she doing with money anyway? Nothing was coming between me and my gaming.
And so I bid my time, waiting for the perfect opportunity, and then I struck. I'd successfully sneaked into her room and taken the money, and was about to leave, when things got a bit out of hand. To cut a long story short, that night changed a lot of things between Deola and I. We began an affair of sorts. I started making frequent midnight visits to her room whenever I needed to take a load off, or whenever she text to say she needed me, and we would help each other out, the thrill of getting discovered by the parents making it all the more exciting.
We continued this relationship of convenience for weeks, and all was dandy. She never complained, and, as far as I knew, neither of us expected more than sex from the other. So, imagine my surprise when she cut me off. First, the texts stopped coming. I'd just assumed she wanted me to keep coming down whenever I felt like, and didn't dwell on it. Then she started giving me excuses whenever I went to see her. It was either her period, she was tired, or she had one pain or the other. It finally dawned on me what had happened the night I went down and met her room door locked. I knew better than to push the issue, and had returned to my room, dejected.
I sighed as memories of nights we'd spent together flooded my mind. The sounds, the smells, the amazing feelings, it was all too much and my hardening rod felt the same way. The only way I was going to get any sleep was by helping myself out it seemed, so I picked up my PSP Go, browsed through my collection of porn, applied some lotion, and let my hand get to work. It wasn't long before my eyes were closed and I was lost in my own fantasies of driving into Deola's wet tightness. Stroking myself as precum oozed out, I moaned her name several times. Softly at first, and then a bit louder. Secretly hoping she would somehow hear me and come to my aid.
"I'm here." At first, I thought it was in my head, but then my eyes flew open when I felt warmth around the tip of my rod. There she was, standing by my bed, all smiles and sparkling, lust-filled eyes. I glanced down and saw the cause of the warmth I was still feeling. Her friend, Anwuli, was at work on my shaft, sucking tenderly. I couldn't believe it. I opened my mouth to ask what they were doing, but Deola's lips were on mine before I could utter any words. Tasting the alcohol on her tongue as she kissed me, I got the idea. I didn't care if this was all a ruse or real, I was going to enjoy it.
I lay back on the bed as Anwuli sucked me off, pulled Deola on top me, grabbed her ass, and dragged her forward so her crotch was in front of my lips. She hadn't bothered with underwear, and my tongue gratefully snaked it's way into her honey pot. Warm, sticky wetness greeted me, and I sensed the fun had begun before they got to my room. I could hear her moan as my tongue probed her depths and my lips sucked and tugged at her clit, and the sound drove me into a frenzy. I started thrusting into Anwuli's mouth with a lot more strength. To my surprise, and amusement, I met no resistance. My shaft slipped in and out of her mouth, and, occasionally, down her throat, with ease. I felt myself tense and reached down to hold her head down as I thrust in deep and poured into her throat. She took it like a pro, swallowing and sucking every bit of my cum out of me. I hadn't even noticed Deola had slid off my face during my rush. I watched as she crawled over to Anwuli, dragged her head off my rod, and kissed her full on the lips. Oh crap. I was getting hard again.
_______________________________________________________________
Well, there. :).
Before I go, please check out @CapoeiraPanda's latest piece Goodbye. It's a response to my post Say Hello To Goodbye. You might want to read them side-by-side if you can. I just loved it so much, and want you all to see it :D. I apologize for the numerous links.
NB: Still accepting drafts. Send to eezykrys@yahoo.com.
...xo
05 September, 2011
He Isn't There
He's not there to hold her when she cries
He's not there to wipe away the tears
He's not there to promise it'll be okay
It all seems meaningless and stupid
How urgently she needs him
She sits folded in a corner, rocking. Mute
Her heart, it pounds
Her soul, it yearns
Her hope, it dwindles
His voice drowns hers out
His words erase hers
His comfort eases the pain
The pain, it grows stronger.
Threatens to take over.
Accepting no surrender
She needs him to hold her close
She needs the tears to flow
She wants him to never let her go
But he isn't there
He's not there to wipe away the tears
He's not there to promise it'll be okay
It all seems meaningless and stupid
How urgently she needs him
She sits folded in a corner, rocking. Mute
Her heart, it pounds
Her soul, it yearns
Her hope, it dwindles
His voice drowns hers out
His words erase hers
His comfort eases the pain
The pain, it grows stronger.
Threatens to take over.
Accepting no surrender
She needs him to hold her close
She needs the tears to flow
She wants him to never let her go
But he isn't there
The Power of the Sun
Hey. :)
So, today's guest writer is a friend of mine @BonnieLilacGrey. She's really awesome, and when she sent in this piece I felt so close to it, I had to put it up. You can check out her blog if you wish. For now, enjoy this piece.
_______________________________________________________________
Ever since I got into the university, I have noticed the sunrise and sunset a lot more than I did before. Babcock is an annoying school but its serenity is very calming and might I say, it's what we crazy people need sometimes.
I like how as the sun goes down, the sky changes color from bright yellow to golden yellow to bright orange to brown which fades into black. In the case of Babcock, it turns red. That sight ALWAYS blows my mind. When the sun rises, its just the opposite so, its basically the same feeling.
On this particular day, I had done something stupid. Something so stupid, I never want to say out loud. What hurt me most was that I did it to someone I truly love. It really wasn't an act of love at all. He had forgiven me but for the fact that this wasn't the first time I had done it, I found it a tad difficult to forgive myself. So my insomniac self slept myself to a headache. I woke up nervous and my head was about to fall off.
My mother sent me to the kitchen to finish making dinner (seeing as I didn't cook the stew). I saw rays shooting through the kitchen window, so I opened the heavy iron door. Through the netted door I watched the bright yellow sun fall through the large tree in my view. The tree was tall and it's leaves were spaced so I didn't really miss out on the sun going down. I stared at it as it changed color. Every single time was fascinating. There wasn't one time I had watched the sun go down or rise that I wasn't in complete awe. I felt like the God we all couldn't see or feel was right in front of me. Like the day I touched a moving train, I felt so comforted by the fact that I was in the presence of something significantly bigger than me. Nothing is impossible if the sun can move in such a manner. Right then, nothing on the planet could touch me. It was like since God was right there, whoever or whatever tried to touch me would be smitten by some powerful ray of light.
All of a sudden, my neighbor turned on his gen. Why the hell wasn't he smitten? I had to close the door. I wasn't feeling so much better but still I had been comforted by the power of the sun.
_______________________________________________________________
There you have it. Please feel free to leave comments regarding the piece. What aspect of nature makes you relate to this post, the writing style, whatever.
Remember, you can still send in your drafts to eezykrys@yahoo.com.
Peace, love & ribena *kilzes*
So, today's guest writer is a friend of mine @BonnieLilacGrey. She's really awesome, and when she sent in this piece I felt so close to it, I had to put it up. You can check out her blog if you wish. For now, enjoy this piece.
_______________________________________________________________
Ever since I got into the university, I have noticed the sunrise and sunset a lot more than I did before. Babcock is an annoying school but its serenity is very calming and might I say, it's what we crazy people need sometimes.
I like how as the sun goes down, the sky changes color from bright yellow to golden yellow to bright orange to brown which fades into black. In the case of Babcock, it turns red. That sight ALWAYS blows my mind. When the sun rises, its just the opposite so, its basically the same feeling.
On this particular day, I had done something stupid. Something so stupid, I never want to say out loud. What hurt me most was that I did it to someone I truly love. It really wasn't an act of love at all. He had forgiven me but for the fact that this wasn't the first time I had done it, I found it a tad difficult to forgive myself. So my insomniac self slept myself to a headache. I woke up nervous and my head was about to fall off.
My mother sent me to the kitchen to finish making dinner (seeing as I didn't cook the stew). I saw rays shooting through the kitchen window, so I opened the heavy iron door. Through the netted door I watched the bright yellow sun fall through the large tree in my view. The tree was tall and it's leaves were spaced so I didn't really miss out on the sun going down. I stared at it as it changed color. Every single time was fascinating. There wasn't one time I had watched the sun go down or rise that I wasn't in complete awe. I felt like the God we all couldn't see or feel was right in front of me. Like the day I touched a moving train, I felt so comforted by the fact that I was in the presence of something significantly bigger than me. Nothing is impossible if the sun can move in such a manner. Right then, nothing on the planet could touch me. It was like since God was right there, whoever or whatever tried to touch me would be smitten by some powerful ray of light.
All of a sudden, my neighbor turned on his gen. Why the hell wasn't he smitten? I had to close the door. I wasn't feeling so much better but still I had been comforted by the power of the sun.
_______________________________________________________________
There you have it. Please feel free to leave comments regarding the piece. What aspect of nature makes you relate to this post, the writing style, whatever.
Remember, you can still send in your drafts to eezykrys@yahoo.com.
Peace, love & ribena *kilzes*
01 September, 2011
That Night
Teary-eyed, barefoot, and in my pajamas, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Out the door, across the yard, and down the street, the wind whipping my hair into my line of vision. The street lights were blurry through my half-closed eyes, and I could barely see where I was going. Didn't matter. I had no idea where I was going anyway. My small feet carried me down the empty street, past all the houses, far away. Which was where I needed to be.
Wasn't long before I was out of breath though. I began to slow, and my sprint gradually faded into a slow stroll until I came to a complete halt. I sat on the pavement, and struggled to catch my breath. My feet hurt, and I rubbed them one after the other. I could hear cars rushing past, and I knew I wasn't far from the estate gate. I resolved to keep going after I'd rested and tended to my aching feet and limbs.
I was tired. Emotionally though, not just physically. Echoes of the war raging at my house vibrated repeatedly in my mind. I shook my head, but it didn't help. They were stuck there, plastered to the walls and latched on to memories past. But that's the thing with memories. Sometimes, they grow fainter and hazy with time. Other times, they build over the years, getting ever stronger, building on recurrences of events. My case was the latter. I resigned and buried in my tiny palms.
I couldn't really remember a time when my home was ever peaceful. I was oblivious to all the anger and venom that encircled my parents whenever they were in the same vicinity when I was younger, but as I grew it became more and apparent that something was amiss. They tried to hide it initially, arguing only in raised whispers, and stopping whenever I came into the room. You can only pretend for so long though. As time passed, I could feel the chill that filled the air whenever they were in the same room. Tension so thick you'd need a chainsaw to slice through, silence often broken only by my voice. Yes, there was no hiding it anymore. My parent had fallen madly and desperately out of love with each other.
I can't say if there was ever any love there though. If there was, it was probably long before I was born, or maybe when I was still a toddler, because I certainly couldn't remember. There was none of the affection my classmates often spoke of. No smiles, no hugs, no loving looks were ever exchanged, and they slept in separate rooms.
My dad had a company to run, and was gone most of the time. My mum was happiest when he was gone. We'd cook,
Play board games, read, and watch tv together either curled up on the couch, or sprawled on the floor. My dad would take me out sometimes, and we'd get ice cream, or go shopping for new dresses, toys and goodies. I had fun with both my parents individually, so I knew each was a loving, caring person as a single unit . Together, however, it was a disaster. One that had turned our home into a war front.
I'd stumbled upon many arguments over the years, and I'd run back up to my room and sob quietly. On the occasions where they saw me, one of them would come up after me and comfort me, making promises of better times. Promises I'd learnt were empty. The next day, I'd get something new. Somehow, I got accustomed to this environment. I never knew what the fights were about, and I was silenced or ignored when I tried to ask, so I just learnt to kind of ignore it as much as I could. They never went beyond yelling and rants. Sometimes, someone would storm out of the house and return hours later.
But that night....it was different. I was getting ready for bed, and was coming out of the bathroom when I'd heard a crash. Heart pounding, I'd rushed downstairs, and straight to the kitchen, where I'd determined the noise had to have come from. Nothing in a million years could have prepared me for what I saw when I swung open the kitchen door. My mum was backed up against a wall, and my dad had one hand round her neck. The other froze mid-air as they both stared wide-eyed at me. I was frozen too. My mind seemed to stop functioning. I'd never seen my dad even touch my mum, so the sight before me was beyond horrid. I turned and ran.
As I sat on the pavement, the image of my dad about to hit my mum frozen in my mind, tears rolled down my cheeks. The night air had gotten chilly, and I shivered. It had gotten darker as well. The few houses that still had lights on had turned pitch black. The beginnings of fear were brewing in the pit of my stomach. My options were to either continue sown the dark scary road, or return to the horror at home. Sobs took over, and I began to shake more even more.
I jumped as I heard my name, and looked up to see my parents. My mum was running towards me, and my dad was behind her, holding a torch. I sat still, not knowing to react when my mum engulfed me in a hug. She was shaking as much as I was. My dad just stood, silently watching. After about 2 minutes of squeezing me, my mum stood up and my dad picked me up. As, we headed back towards the house., no one said anything. I was too tired to speak. My eyelids were heavy, and I needed to sleep. I yawned, and, just before I shut my eyes, I saw them hold hands.
_______________________________________________________________
Hey :)
So, I might be gone for a while. Have a few ideas I'm working on. Also, for those that have been threatening me, Daddy's Girl will continue as soon as I'm back. I'm trying to perfect the story, so I give you what you deserve (the best)
Still need writers to feature on my blog while I work on more constructive and enjoyable material (and titles). I'd really hate for all this creative space to go to waste with so much talent out there. So, if you're interested, please send a draft of a story to eezykrys@yahoo.com :)
Also, my birthday is in 14 days \=D/ Please kindly look at the image below. Wouldn't be lovely if I got my dream phone as my present? *hint hint* *wink wink* :D
Plenty kilzes .....xx
Wasn't long before I was out of breath though. I began to slow, and my sprint gradually faded into a slow stroll until I came to a complete halt. I sat on the pavement, and struggled to catch my breath. My feet hurt, and I rubbed them one after the other. I could hear cars rushing past, and I knew I wasn't far from the estate gate. I resolved to keep going after I'd rested and tended to my aching feet and limbs.
I was tired. Emotionally though, not just physically. Echoes of the war raging at my house vibrated repeatedly in my mind. I shook my head, but it didn't help. They were stuck there, plastered to the walls and latched on to memories past. But that's the thing with memories. Sometimes, they grow fainter and hazy with time. Other times, they build over the years, getting ever stronger, building on recurrences of events. My case was the latter. I resigned and buried in my tiny palms.
I couldn't really remember a time when my home was ever peaceful. I was oblivious to all the anger and venom that encircled my parents whenever they were in the same vicinity when I was younger, but as I grew it became more and apparent that something was amiss. They tried to hide it initially, arguing only in raised whispers, and stopping whenever I came into the room. You can only pretend for so long though. As time passed, I could feel the chill that filled the air whenever they were in the same room. Tension so thick you'd need a chainsaw to slice through, silence often broken only by my voice. Yes, there was no hiding it anymore. My parent had fallen madly and desperately out of love with each other.
I can't say if there was ever any love there though. If there was, it was probably long before I was born, or maybe when I was still a toddler, because I certainly couldn't remember. There was none of the affection my classmates often spoke of. No smiles, no hugs, no loving looks were ever exchanged, and they slept in separate rooms.
My dad had a company to run, and was gone most of the time. My mum was happiest when he was gone. We'd cook,
Play board games, read, and watch tv together either curled up on the couch, or sprawled on the floor. My dad would take me out sometimes, and we'd get ice cream, or go shopping for new dresses, toys and goodies. I had fun with both my parents individually, so I knew each was a loving, caring person as a single unit . Together, however, it was a disaster. One that had turned our home into a war front.
I'd stumbled upon many arguments over the years, and I'd run back up to my room and sob quietly. On the occasions where they saw me, one of them would come up after me and comfort me, making promises of better times. Promises I'd learnt were empty. The next day, I'd get something new. Somehow, I got accustomed to this environment. I never knew what the fights were about, and I was silenced or ignored when I tried to ask, so I just learnt to kind of ignore it as much as I could. They never went beyond yelling and rants. Sometimes, someone would storm out of the house and return hours later.
But that night....it was different. I was getting ready for bed, and was coming out of the bathroom when I'd heard a crash. Heart pounding, I'd rushed downstairs, and straight to the kitchen, where I'd determined the noise had to have come from. Nothing in a million years could have prepared me for what I saw when I swung open the kitchen door. My mum was backed up against a wall, and my dad had one hand round her neck. The other froze mid-air as they both stared wide-eyed at me. I was frozen too. My mind seemed to stop functioning. I'd never seen my dad even touch my mum, so the sight before me was beyond horrid. I turned and ran.
As I sat on the pavement, the image of my dad about to hit my mum frozen in my mind, tears rolled down my cheeks. The night air had gotten chilly, and I shivered. It had gotten darker as well. The few houses that still had lights on had turned pitch black. The beginnings of fear were brewing in the pit of my stomach. My options were to either continue sown the dark scary road, or return to the horror at home. Sobs took over, and I began to shake more even more.
I jumped as I heard my name, and looked up to see my parents. My mum was running towards me, and my dad was behind her, holding a torch. I sat still, not knowing to react when my mum engulfed me in a hug. She was shaking as much as I was. My dad just stood, silently watching. After about 2 minutes of squeezing me, my mum stood up and my dad picked me up. As, we headed back towards the house., no one said anything. I was too tired to speak. My eyelids were heavy, and I needed to sleep. I yawned, and, just before I shut my eyes, I saw them hold hands.
_______________________________________________________________
Hey :)
So, I might be gone for a while. Have a few ideas I'm working on. Also, for those that have been threatening me, Daddy's Girl will continue as soon as I'm back. I'm trying to perfect the story, so I give you what you deserve (the best)
Still need writers to feature on my blog while I work on more constructive and enjoyable material (and titles). I'd really hate for all this creative space to go to waste with so much talent out there. So, if you're interested, please send a draft of a story to eezykrys@yahoo.com :)
Also, my birthday is in 14 days \=D/ Please kindly look at the image below. Wouldn't be lovely if I got my dream phone as my present? *hint hint* *wink wink* :D
Plenty kilzes .....xx
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