The story is dope! Keep doing your thing bro. Am hooked to this page like a junkie on rocks. Following..

ogyunging:
The story is dope! Keep doing your thing bro. Am hooked to this page like a junkie on rocks. Following..

Hehe! Good one.

I'm writing at the moment. Hopefully I'll get it out tonight, or early tomorrow--if I miss the deadline.

"For you,I'd buy anything"
Naso your pocket money go take evaporate finish��

Nice story you've got man,keep it up!

I love the way you write, wow! you're damn good

Ep.11

Sometimes I try to think about the moments before the new girl arrived, before the craziness started, and those moments after it. I wonder if there ever was any difference; any changes at all, or if I still was as soft as before. I told myself I wanted to be wild and crazy, but weren't wild and crazy people immune to pain?

Now, back to the girl at the club. A dazzling, dark-skinned fairy, she stole my attention in an animalistic way. I felt the cravings, and she must have noticed the flames in my eyes.

She asked for just a drink though, so I got it for her. I also got myself another drink.

'Bullet...black,' she muttered and stared at me, swaying her body slowly, in an almost child-like manner.

Black bullet. That drink. I've heard about it, never tasted it. Girls I've met always called it a wicked drink, I never guessed why until Sammy confided in me, on one of those rare days we talked. He said, 'that drink dey weak girls, my guy. They hate it, not because it tastes bad but because it makes them lose control.'

It always amuses me whenever Sammy spoke his pidgin and laced it with English. I never say it, but I wish I could do that.

His words resonated deep within me after she said she needed that drink.

It makes them lose control.

I wasted no time. She walked beside me as I went over to the bar.

There was a young man with a remote in his hand, casually flipping through the channels on a flat screen TV fixed on the wall, the images flashing without producing any sounds--no surprise, the club was loud as hell.

I looked the guy in the eyes, feeling cocky and confident.

You see, nothing gives you more confidence than having a beautiful--no, damn beautiful--girl by your side. I felt it inside me, even saw the jealousy in the guy's eyes as he regarded her. Maybe it was all in my head; maybe I was riding this new high, but I didn't care.

Well, she's mine for now, I thought in my head. She wasn't mine, not yet, but it felt like it. After all, I was buying her a drink.

The bar had a counter separating us from the layers of drinks stuffed in fridges over on the other side. There were long stools by the counter, so you could sit and have your drinks. She leaned over the counter and stared at me the whole time.

I remember thinking, why is she staring at me that way?

'One black bullet,' I ordered and slapped my debit card on the counter. In my head it looked so damn cool.

The guy behind the counter had already started walking towards a big blue fridge when I quickly said, almost apologetically, 'no, make it two.'

The guy shot me a fiery glance but I didn't care. I had a pretty girl by my side, so I had the right to be a dick. At least at that moment. The 'normal' me would have said please, but screw that.

The young man slid the drinks across the counter. Actually, he just slammed them and gave me that look again, although I avoided his gaze this time, and looked at her. His gaze lingered for a few seconds and I wondered if he knew her.

Was I supposed to ask?

She grabbed one of the drinks, still with that child-like electricity about her, and opened it. I watched her, mesmerized.

The guy took my debit card and I waited, listening to the beep of the POS device as he completed the payment.

'Your pin,' he grunted.

It wasnt until I started to punch in the pin--my date of birth, always has--that I remembered to ask how much the drinks costs.

He grunted again and I swear I saw a smile on his lips. Maybe he thought, at that moment, that I was one of those broke guys who used their last card to go to the club. Maybe I was, but he had no right to smile. Besides, I wasn't that broke.

'Two-five,' I said, staring at the receipt, doing the math in my head.

'Hey, thanks for the drink,' she said to me and I quickly squeezed the receipt, shoving it into my pocket.

'You're welcome,' I muttered softly.


'What?' she leaned closer, her voice a bit high.
I looked around and also leaned forward. 'Let's go outside.'

She heard that, for she nodded and followed me as we squeezed past the crowded club, sometimes walking into a cloud of smoke as some idiot puffed it right at us.

Could have been Sammy, I thought, but that didn't matter; I just needed to get outside and focus on her.

The noise died down as soon as we stepped out. The air was cool. I hadn't realized just how hot inside that club was.

We walked away from the tables and chairs, past those suya sellers. The smoke smelled great, the meat sizzling with oil, and the yellows flames blazing high as the mallam spurted oil--or was it water--into the roast.

'Do you want suya?' I asked her.

'No.' Her voice was distant, and she seemed distracted. We walked out the gate. The streets were quiet and somewhat foggy, it was oast midnight after all.

A few bike men leaned on the their bikes, talking and laughing, and shouting at anybody who came out through the gate.

'You dey go?'

'Heys, you need bike?'

They did the same for us and I shook my head. Something was not right with her anymore. I could almost feel that excitement gone from her.

You're over thinking things again, Dickson. Talk to her.

And I did just that.

We sat on the pavement along the fence and I looked at her.

'What's your name?'

She smiled.

'I don't think you want to know that. You probably just want to have sex with me, right?'

Her eyes were boring holes into mine.

I gulped and decided to play it cool. The drink tasted weird, like cough syrup, but it had a strong kick to it. So I felt, as I always felt when I drank, confident.


'What makes you say that?'

She took a sip from the can, swirling it.
'Isn't that the truth? A girl dancing alone in a club, past midnight. Even smoking. I guess that screams 'Bleep me', doesn't it?'


'Not to me, no.'

She chuckled and nodded. She didn't believe me.

'Look, I don't want to sound like a good guy right now.' I placed the drink carefully on the pavement by my side.
'I'm not a good guy,' I lied, but I had her attention, so I continued. 'At least I don't think so, but I...'


She cut me short before I finished. 'I believe you.'

'Hmm?'

She stretched her hand and took another sip.

'This tastes weird today. Maybe because of the cigarettes.'

Dropping the can, she turned to me. 'I mean, I don't believe that stuff about you being a good guy; you don't look like a bad guy, quite the opposite.'

I chuckled. 'Is that so?'

She didn't answer that.

I exhaled and rubbed my hand on my knees, then she looked at me again.

'I want to leave this place.'

'Okay,' I said. 'Let's go to my place.' I was already looking towards the row of bike men.

She shook her head. 'No, I'm sorry. I...I can't.'

Did I just hear my heart shatter into pieces? Pretty sure I did.


'Uh, why?'

'I'm sorry but...uhm, we can go to my place, can't we? I don't feel comfortable outside my own place. I'll just be acting weird in the morning.'

I chuckled again, flagging one of the bikemen who immediately revved his engine and skidded next to us, raising dust in the process. Unnecessary, I thought.


'Your place is fine. I guess we can go there.'
She smiled at me and rubbed my arm. 'You see, you really are a good guy.'

I smiled again. 'Maybe.'

She climbed onto the bike and I followed, shifting my butt against the hard seat. The engine was loud and the smoke thick and choking. How did I not notice that?

'Make we go?' The bike man hollered and I said, 'sure'.

The air was much cooler as the bike sped off. The road was void of any commuters, lit up peacefully by street lamps--some of which either flickered or didn't work at all.

As we rode on, she suddenly leaned back and rested her head on my chest. I smiled. She couldn't see it, but I smiled.

'I wish this ride could go on all through the night, " she squealed. She smelled really nice and well, partially of cigarettes.

'Me too,' I responded.

I really did. I felt peace, somehow; the silence and cool air, the loud jutters of this motorcycle, and the feeling of her body on mine.

I really wished it would go on all through the night, but the bike soon slowed and turned into a winding streets. We bounced against the bumpy road, the strong headlights lighting up the dark street.

Her head was still rested on my chest, and I think her eyes were closed. I thought she was asleep, but then she mumbled to the bike man and he stopped the bike.

A few minutes later, the sound of the motorcycle now distant, she opened the small gate to her apartment and we walked in.

She flopped down on the bed and raised her left leg.

'My shoe...please.'

I helped her take off her shoes and then she asked me to sit beside on her on the bed.

Pink sheets, white walls, girlie pillows with pictures of hearts and cartoon characters, and teddy-bears resting against the wall. It was a girl's room alright, and I was intrigued.

I stretched out on the bed and rested my back against the wall. She crawled up beside me and had her head on my thighs.

'My name is Jessica.'

'Oh,' I said, not expecting that.

'Yes. My parents named me Nandi, but I hate the name because I hate my parents, so I changed it to Jessica.'

I hate my parents too, I wanted to say. But that would be a lie; I love my mom, and I tolerated my dad. Although my dad wasn't in my life any more, hasn't been for five years now.

I didn't want us to dwell on that, so I said, 'Jessica is a nice choice.'

She turned and looked up at me, a smile on her face.

'Thanks.'

'You're welcome.'

'You know, you can still Bleep me if you want.'
My mouth went dry and blood rushed through my body. I think I had a hard-on immediately.

'If that's what you want,' she added.

I was silent for a while, then I said, 'you don't seem like a bad girl either?'

She sat up now and folded her legs, turning to face me.

'Really?'

'Yeah. Really.'

'Why do you think so?'

I pictured how I first met her, what I felt, and I told her.

I said, 'the way you smoked, and danced; you seemed...happy, and sad at the same time. Bad girls usually don't show emotions, I think.'

She threw her head back and laughed. 'You're smart. I like you. Most guys would have had my clothes off by now, but you're not like most guys. Right?'

I want to be, I thought. I'm tired of being different and gentle, and always the good guy.
She was watching me.

'Maybe I'm not,' I answered and ran my thumb over the side of her face, flicking off the glitter on it.

Her lips quivered and she moved closer, hesitating just a little bit, then she kissed me.

I think about that kiss now and I wonder, what was different about it? Why did it feel so...heavy and good, and sad all at the same time?

I kissed her back and we fell on the bed, kissing hard and hurriedly taking off each other's clothes.

We had sex that night, and it was great sex. She felt fragile when I held her, and a bit hard. I told her to relax and take it easy, and she laughed each time.

I knew I'd see her again. I knew that she was more than me. Maybe. But I was curious. There was hurt in her, a deep pain I couldn't figure out, especially when she rested her head on me. I was curious, and I knew I'd see more of Jessica, but then I set my eyes on the new girl and things took a slightly different turn.




Word out:

Sorry for the wait, bizarre Readers. Real life had me by the throat, and I really had to get some shit in order.

I hope you like this episode. Remember, comments are very much welcome.

Weldone bros, you're too good

Dickson is a bad boy iya-iya ohhhhhhhhh thanks for the update.... it's very much appreciated

Nice update bro

Thanks for the update.

Master with the pen! So so bizarre..

Jessica is a grenade waiting to explode. Nice one, OP. I

This is good stuff; really good stuff right here.

While we wait for episode 12 which drops in T-minus 50 minutes, here's a snippet from a collection of short stories I'm writing.



I sincerely hope, when the time comes, that you guys will download the book when it's published. That's still a while away, but please be free to give your thoughts on this snippet from a story I titled 'An Unending Nightmare'.

----

The nightmare began, for her parents at least, on that terrible Tuesday evening. But for the little girl, it all began long before that day. Somewhere deep in her mind, something had told her of what was to come. Whispers, low and clear.

Dark clouds churned in the sky, tearing up as the rain poured through and lightning flashed. She sat at the back listening to the low voices of her parents.

They'd lower their voices some more each time they thought she was listening, but she wasn't. Her eyes were on the drops of rain sliding down the window, slow at first--when the rain just started and the sky still had its blue gayness to it--and then heavy brushes of water, almost as it were on those days she sat inside the car when her father hosed it down; when she'd stare at the dazzling crystal-like water as it spread across the windows and windshield, her father standing a few feet from the car with the hose aimed at the car.

Unlike those days, which she immensely enjoyed, this one was different. Very different; the voices had already warned her about it.

The little girl sighed and leaned back on the seat, shifting her eyes away from the gloomy skies. It was no fun staring outside the window again, for all she saw were trees, some short and others tall, dancing as the rain lashed against them, and the wind whistled.

They'd already passed through the village. At least her father had driven slowly that time when the road had been red and bumpy--he'd grumbled a lot about the potholes and ditches--and the rain had been just a mere drizzle. The winds had been heavy, pushing against the rusted iron roofing on most of the mud-brick houses.

Children had danced under the drizzle, staring up at the sky and sticking out their tongues for a taste of the raindrops. She had watched those carefree children and wondered about them. They weren't so different from the ones she saw on most days, the ones whose voices she had; the very ones who warned her about a black, rainy day when she would have to embark on a very long journey.

Sitting quietly at the back, the little girl tried not to think about those children or even the voices. She had to remain quiet and focused, the voices had told her unless she would miss the way and get lost forever.

'You don't want to get lost forever,' they'd said to her. No reason was given, but the dread in their hollow voices made sure she needed none.
Inside the car seemed colder than usual. It smelled of the air freshener her father had bought--tangerine: she chose that herself, it was her favorite fruit.

The little girl pulled down her wool sweater, covering her arms with it. A loose pink thread stuck out of the sleeve and she clasped it between her finger and pulled. The thread snapped softly and, like some kind of puzzle, began to unravel, leaving more holes and getting longer the more she pulled.

'Oh no, Nedi,' her mother gasped and the girl raised her head to see her peering over the passenger seat, stretching her hand towards the sweater.

'Don't do that. It'll ruin the sweater.' Her mother's hand was warm as she clipped off the thread. She tenderly rubbed the little girl's hand and smiled at her. A wary smile, full of fear and pain, and sadness.

The little girl nodded, for she spoke very little, even for a nine-year-old, and continued staring at her mother with wide-eyes.

She could have easily looked down and quivered her lips, and sniffled as she did whenever she'd been rebuked for doing something silly--like the time she wandered into the kitchen and plugged in the electric blender, just to watch the blades rotate--but she didn't; her mother had been through a lot because of her, and so she wanted to spare her the guilt--both of them--especially with what was about to happen.

'Everything will be fine,' her mother reassured her, and the little girl nodded, this time averting her gaze. She knew the truth.

Maybe if her mother had looked on for a few more seconds she would have spotted the fear in her daughter's brown eyes. Maybe she would have inquired to know what was wrong, and maybe the nightmare wouldn't have started, or maybe not.

Her mother rubbed the back of her hand and then returned to her normal position, whispering something to the girl's father who turned around for one quick look at her.

She was focused on the sounds now. The steady hum of the car as they drove through the almost empty road, the constant rumble in the sky and sudden claps of thunder, the pattering of rain against the window, the whoosh and loud splashes as cars drove past, her parents' low voices, the steady beating of the wipers on the now blurry windshield and then...the voices.

'It's time,' one of them whispered.

'Get ready,' another voice chimed.

She bit her lips and tightened her fists on her thighs, crossing her legs together.

'Don't be afraid,' a deeper voice said. 'It won't hurt...much.'

'Nedi, when we get home...' her mother's voice cut through the others, and the girl looked up again. There was a sudden silence, almost as if the voices, as well as herself, were bracing themselves for what was to come. And that was when it happened.

Before the nightmare began, it is important to understand the events which led up to it, and how the little girl started hearing those voices and seeing them, the flickering little children with bodies of smoke and eyes of pearl.

You'd have to go back three years when the girl was only six years old. Nedi was a happy child. She never spoke more than a few phrases at a time, which had first dismayed her parents, who had already come to accept her that way, although not before consulting so many doctors who mostly saw nothing biologically wrong with her.


Sometimes she smiled a lot, other times she laughed. But she never cried.

'It would seem I took away your tears,' her mother would always say to her while brushing her long, black hair. The months leading up to her birth had been a trying one.

Twelve months, that was how long the child stayed in her mother's womb. Twelves months of agony and fear and then, on a sunny Saturday morning, she was born. A fair-skinned, eight-pound baby with dark curly hair and a bright smile beaming on her face.

Not once did she cry. The nurses had even tried to make her cry by tapping her lightly on her backside, but she'd beamed brightly, her cheeks dimpled and her brown eyes fixed on her tired mother.

The laughing child, they called her. And for six years it remained that way, until that night on her birthday. The very first night she cried. A strange night of heavy rain and bizarre winds.

Nedi went to bed that night with a smile on her face. She jumped on her bed and smacked her lips, giggling for she could still get the lingering taste of her strawberry-flavored cake.

She hated sleeping with the blanket over her body, so she pushed it with her feet and curled up, as she always did. Her mother would come in later to cover her properly, she knew, and she liked that too.

----

Episode 12 of Good Guy At 23 drops tonight.

Thanks!

---The BizarreWriter

E.p 12


My first contact with the new girl came two weeks after she moved in, and by then I'd already been hearing things about her from Chidi and the guys.

It was one of those dull evenings when the sky was a bland purple, the setting sun nowhere to be seen, and the ground wet and soggy. I was indoors all through, relishing the cold and played reading a novel. I heard some footsteps outside and paused in my reading, placing the book on my chest and listening.

My room still had Priscilla's scent in it. She'd come around to tell me that I was changing, and 'shebi you're now having many girlfriends that's why you don't want to be talking to me, abi?'. Her own words.

I listened to know if she was back for round two of our one-sided argument--I'd said nothing in response--but the voice I heard wasn't hers.

'Knock knock,' she soft voice came and I got off the bed to see who it was. In my defense, I hadn't heard her speak long enough to know what she sounded like. All those times I saw the guys engaging her and her roommate (the other girl she came with) in a conversation she mostly smiled and nodded, or just looked uninterested.
So when I opened the door and saw her standing right outside my door my brain immediately went into panic mode.

She looked fairer than I'd thought she was, her skin bright and smooth. She has to be using an expensive skin regimen, I thought and wondered if I would ever have the mind to ask her what lotion she used.


I could do that, maybe, and use that as a conversation starter. Okay, you can do this. I inhaled deeply and stared at her.

She stared back, probably expecting me to say something but I didn't.

'Good evening.'

I cleared my throat. Her eyes went up, to my hair. My uneasiness doubled and I felt hot.

Is my hair rough?

'Good evening,' I responded in a rather hoarse voice.

'Do you have a knife?' She asked.

'Uh, what? Oh, kitchen knife?' I stuttered and she nodded.

'Uhm, let me check.'

I entered inside. Kitchen knife...kitchen knife. Where the hell is my kitchen knife? The spoons and forks rattled and fell on the metal sink as I shoved the plastic rack to the side, making a mess of everything.

Some of the clean spoons and forks slid over and fell into the bowl of oily water which had my dirty dishes in them.

'Oh God, now I'll have to wash those again,' I grumbled.

I left the kitchen, reaching into the furthest part of my mind to know if I had a knife.

Then I remembered and snapped my fingers.
'If you like do as if you're not hearing me, I want to borrow your knife,' Priscilla had hissed and I'd wondered if she was going to use that knife on me.

I walked back to the front door, panting and almost sweating.

'I'm sorry, I gave my knife to someone else.'
'Oh.' She looked disappointed. She looked along the corridor and I could see her hesitating. I knew that look very well: the look you had when you were new in a place and wasn't sure if the people around were trustworthy.

But she'd come to me. Walked past two or three rooms and come to mine, just to ask for a knife. I felt a familiar tingle and then, just as she started leaving, I called out, 'wait, let me ask someone.'
She smiled. 'Thanks.'

The right move. Yes!

She stood by my door and I walked along the corridor. Jide's room was open and the curtain was thrown over the door. I saw him half on his bed, half on the floor. I entered.

'Hey, I need to borrow your knife,' I muttered and walked straight to his kitchen. He barely grunted, his eyes half-opened.

I entered Jide's kitchen and halted almost immediately. I used to think I was the messiest guy around, what with how I left my plates to 'soak' for a day or two until I'd exhausted all my clean plates. But Jide, oh my God, Jide was a mess.

The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes and was that a rat I just saw crawling out from inside a pot? My skin crawled and I shivered. I would have done a quick about-turn on any other day, but she was waiting for me. I had to do something.

I stepped into the kitchen, placing my foot on a rag and immediately regretted that decision when I heard the squishy sound and felt the sogginess against my toes.

Onion peels, stale water--so stale that it had caked at the top with oil and filth--and crumbs of food. Those were the things I had to dig through before I found the what-used-to-be-white handle of his knife.

I grabbed it and headed straight for his bathroom, praying to God that it was at least OK to step it. It was. thank goodness.

Working fast, I washed the knife and then, giving Jide one nasty look, dashed out of his room.
She was still standing by my room, looking around, when I appeared.

'Sorry, it turns out that a knife is hard to find in this place.'

'Thanks. I just forgot to buy one, I didn't know it'd be this stressful. Sorry.'

'No,' I said, exhaling deeply--seriously I'd done a mini-marathon just now, all because of a knife. 'It's fine.'

'Okay.' She took the knife and smiled again. I watched her walk past me, standing stiff and doing nothing.

Ask for her name, you fool.

'Hey,' I called out and she turned around.

'I didn't Uhm...I forgot to ask...I mean, what's your name?'

'Lissa,' she answered, her eyes bright and friendly now. 'And you're Dickson.'

'I...yeah, how did you...'

'Heard about you from my roommate,' she answered and waved the knife at me. 'Thanks again.'

I kept my eyes on her until she walked out of sight, then I shifted my gaze and there she was, Priscilla, staring at me with eyes narrowed and lips tightened.

I quickly broke the gaze and walked back into my room. I had something to think about and it wasn't Priscilla. Not right now.

I'd see Lissa more and more as the weeks went by, but it wasn't until the semester exams were a week away, that I saw more of her. By then I'd already started hearing words flying around, of something going on between her and Chidi, but I didn't care. Not yet.

She wanted me to teach her Calculus. That was a course I'd offered last year. I was sure I had the textbook in my room somewhere, so I went in search of it and found it buried deep inside my box. I smiled when I found it and blew off the dust from it, smacking it repeatedly.

I was ready to teach calculus, assuming I still remembered anything from it.

agba u Sabi wella... thanks for d update

Nice one. Thanks for the update

Nice piece, u got here..

mmmm...at this point I'm giving it to you..gbosa!! Ghost mode deactivated buh boss abegi e too sweet to dey short o buh I understand sha...Nice work :

same calculus precious is disturbing me to teach her. like say i know am

akimbomimer:
mmmm...at this point I'm giving it to you..gbosa!! Ghost mode deactivated buh boss abegi e too sweet to dey short o buh I understand sha...Nice work :

Lol. Thanks. I try to compensate for the length by posting frequently. A new episode drops today. Thanks so much for reading.

germaphobe:
same calculus precious is disturbing me to teach her. like say i know am

Ah yes, there's gotta be a deeper intention there. Explore it, could be nice

Oga mi, I just dy gbadun u back 2 back, weldone sir! More grease to your elbow

Thanks everyone

It really means a lot, the warmth I'm getting on here.

Episode 13 is halfway done but some stuff came on so I just might not make today's upload time.

I'll just upload two episodes tomorrow to make up for it.

TheBizarreWrite:
Thanks everyone

It really means a lot, the warmth I'm getting on here.

Episode 13 is halfway done but some stuff came on so I just might not make today's upload time.

I'll just upload two episodes tomorrow to make up for it.

No problems at all, Chief.

Thanks for the update

EP.13

My forehead was wrinkled as I lay down in bed, flipping through a gigantic calculus textbook. The numbers and symbols weren't strange, but they twisted and danced in my eyes, so much that I squinted my eyes and cranked up the wheels in my head, commanding every neuron to think back at Rev. Buko's Calculus class, most of which I'd slept through.

The Reverend-lecturer was a big man who'd always filled the room each time he stepped in. He was a terrible lecturer, blabbing at us as he wrote equations on the board, peering through rectangular spectacles without ever raising his head to check if his flock--he called us his flock, for some reason--were following.

At least he was a great storyteller which was basically what most of the Monday midday lectures were filled with: anecdotes and clever stories, all of which were always funny. Of course, it wasn't funny when it was exam time, and the mumblings and irate grumbles told a story, but no one could complain.

I had my exams to study for. When the timetable was pasted and I strolled over to the notice board, I winced and the first thought into my head was: damn, this is brutal. MY course mates all agreed to that—I heard them lamenting and already making plans and strategies on seating arrangements and, according to some, battle formations.

Some guy had even pointed in my direction and whispered, ‘that guy know book na.’ I ignored them and went away.

Now here I was flipping through an old textbook, refreshing my memory on a course I hadn't enjoyed; one I was just OK at.

I flattened myself on the bed and faced the ceiling, shutting my eyes and doing what I've been doing for a few days now: bringing up our short interaction and reliving it over and over again, bit by bit. Nothing was missed; every smile, every flick of her hair, every twinkle in her eyes.

'I can't believe her name's also Lissa,' I muttered to myself and wondered why I hadn't said, 'oh hey, we already have a Lissa in this compound. I guess you're Lissa number two'.

That's stupid. Thank God I didn't say that. Lissa number two? That's stupid. I didn't want her to be Lissa number two, and I didn't care about that other Lissa. We barely said hi and that suited me just fine.

I cringed and quickly rolled over as if she somehow heard my thoughts from wherever she was. Where was she anyway?

I sat up and picked my phone. It was almost 8 p.m., and I told myself it wasn't too late in the day to branch over to say hi.

My heart thumped and I sat up, considering this possibility.

What will I say to her?

I knew she'd let me in if I went over to her room, and I knew she'd give me that eager look she always flashed my way; a deep, searching gaze like she wanted to figure me out, and like she expected me to say something to her.

I never did, even after our interaction when she came to borrow the knife, and even after that.
Say hi, Dickhead, I'd scold myself whenever I saw her coming my way and our eyes would meet, and my body would freeze and go into panic mode and I'd just stare at her as she stared back, a smile on her face.

I'd exhale after she walked past and then cross the road, pretending to buy something as I raised my head and watched her board a bike.
Idiot, idiot! I'd yell at myself in my head. I think I hate myself. That has to be the best conclusion to that.
I once saw her standing by the ATM one sunny afternoon. I wanted to head over to her. She hadn't seen me yet so I had enough time to compose myself, but then I started to overthink it as usual.

What will you say to her?

What if she's already with someone.

But she's standing right there alone. She might appreciate the company.

But you're stupid and an idiot, and you can't do this one thing right.

She did look alone and a bit...lost, standing there, looking around.

I was still stuck in a stupid argument with myself when a guy walked to her. Two guys, they were; the second one, fatter and shorter. She seemed to know them for she smiled and talked to them, and then the three of them started walking towards the main gate.

I've no idea why, but she suddenly looked in my direction and I think she saw me. I wasn't sure, because I panicked again and nearly jumped into a gutter just to hide. I missed the gutter, thank God, but I misjudged my jump and twisted my ankle, clipping my head against a stupid tree covered in posters.

I limped home that day and became haunted by that memory.

'But not tonight,' I said out loud and snapped the book shut. I started rehearsing what I'd say as I put on a shirt and bathed myself in a cloud of body spray. It stung my eyes a little bit otherwise it smelled nice.

I left my room and my hands shook as I tried to lock the door. Calm down, boy, I urged myself.

The keys rattled in my hand and I soon gave up and just shut the door and drew out the curtain, just in case someone had the smart idea of entering the room. My door was notorious for creaking and opening on its own so the curtain was sure to make anyone think I was in.

The corridor stretched farther than normal. I walked slowly, vaguely aware of what sounded like pots clanking, and the excited chatter of people about to have dinner. I smelled it, too: beans.

I took a right along the corridor and knew I'd have the bend to the left to get to her room which was the last along the opposite corridor.

My heart still thumped hard. Constantly inhaling and exhaling didn't seem to help at all. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my shorts and suddenly felt naked. I should have brought something--a conversation started, maybe a book.

I was still thinking through all this, my heart thumping louder as I drew closer to her room, when I heard a familiar voice; a voice I always hear around the compound; a voice synonymous to girls.

The door to the last room--her room--was wide open. The light fell through, an orange glow spread against the wall and the locked gate at the other end. Light also fell through the window. The aroma of onions and tomatoes, and something else being fried, filled the air.

It smelled good but I didn't bother about that. My mind was on the voices, particularly his own.
Stop and turn back now, I told myself. I did nothing of such. I soon found myself standing by the door. I didn't want to look in but I had to; it'd have been weird if I just stood there, or if I'd walked past--the other gate was locked and nobody used it.

She was in the room, sitting on the bed with a big, pink stuffed animal clasped against her chest. Her eyes lit up as she laughed, but not to any I said. The other voice went on and on, churning jokes and witty comments.

My eyes went to him. Chidi. Of course, I thought.
He didn't have any shirt on and he sat at the entrance of the room, streaks of sweat visible on his body. The room was hot, despite the stand fan whirling from left to right, and I soon figured out why: her roommate, the dark girl, came out of the kitchen with two steaming plates of rice.
I don't think any of them noticed me, at least not until he said something.


'Ah Dickson, my guy.' His voice was so calm, so relaxed. He was always like that. She looked at me as soon as he spoke. Our eyes met and she gave me a short smile of recognition. The roommate also looked at me, so now I had three pairs of eyes fixed on me.


Was I nervous? Well, my ears my ringing and my body felt hot, and I wanted the ground to open. She continued looking at me, probably expecting me to say something.

'I...uh,' I cleared my throat and shrugged, looking away from her. 'I thought I heard your voice, just said I should have a look.'

Who was I talking to? I have no idea, but he assumed he was the one and he laughed and said something. I don't know what it was but I was looking at her again. Just looking at her sitting over there, her hair over her shoulder and one leg stretched out, with the stuffed animal resting on her, I felt the strong need to talk to her. I wished he wasn't there; I wished we were alone, but we weren't so I said:

'I was able to do that question you gave me.'
He knew I was talking to her now, so he looked at her.

'Oh, okay,' she said before he cut her short and shifted over to the floor where the plates were and grabbed a spoon.

'Come chop na, Dickson. No dey do shy shy every time.'

Bleep you, man.

I looked at her and let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of my head.

My body heated up and I despised him at that particular moment, although that feeling only lasted a minute or so.

'I'm not hungry.'

I turned and left, cursing myself for deciding to go there. I heard his voice almost immediately, and the clanking of a spoon on the plate. I also heard a short giggle from her, and her roommate's voice.

They're talking about me; laughing at how stupid I am, I thought and walked away. The voices faded behind me as I walked away, then I heard someone call out my name.

I turned around and saw her.


'I'll come around tomorrow and you'll teach me,' she said and I nodded.

'Sounds good.'

She twirled her hair around her finger, stood on her toes and smiled. 'See you tomorrow.'

'Goodnight.'

I leaned against a pillar and watched her go back. Her roommate came out a minute later and we exchanged short 'hello's' as I pretended to look natural leaning against the pillar.

She was in there, with Chidi. I heard their voices. Loud and happy. They're already friends, I said to myself and it hurt. I shrugged it off and tried not to think about it. I'll see her tomorrow, right?

A moment with me and she'll know I'm better than him...right?

What a fool I was.

I didn't sleep well that night, and it didn't help when I heard her roommate's voice in the room next to mine. I shut my door and locked the windows, stuffing my ears with my earpiece and cranking up the music. It helped...a little.

Tomorrow will be better, I told myself. Don't fret, Dickson. What's the worst that could happen.

I guess I should have backed off at that period. I think I did, but she was always there. The pain was coming--tiny pricks in the farthest reaches of my heart--and I ignored it. A stupid move.

Story is getting boring please spice it up

TheBizarreWrite:
EP.13

My forehead was wrinkled as I lay down in bed, flipping through a gigantic calculus textbook. The numbers and symbols weren't strange, but they twisted and danced in my eyes, so much that I squinted my eyes and cranked up the wheels in my head, commanding every neuron to think back at Rev. Buko's Calculus class, most of which I'd slept through.

The Reverend-lecturer was a big man who'd always filled the room each time he stepped in. He was a terrible lecturer, blabbing at us as he wrote equations on the board, peering through rectangular spectacles without ever raising his head to check if his flock--he called us his flock, for some reason--were following.

At least he was a great storyteller which was basically what most of the Monday midday lectures were filled with: anecdotes and clever stories, all of which were always funny. Of course, it wasn't funny when it was exam time, and the mumblings and irate grumbles told a story, but no one could complain.

I had my exams to study for. When the timetable was pasted and I strolled over to the notice board, I winced and the first thought into my head was: damn, this is brutal. MY course mates all agreed to that—I heard them lamenting and already making plans and strategies on seating arrangements and, according to some, battle formations.

Some guy had even pointed in my direction and whispered, ‘that guy know book na.’ I ignored them and went away.

Now here I was flipping through an old textbook, refreshing my memory on a course I hadn't enjoyed; one I was just OK at.

I flattened myself on the bed and faced the ceiling, shutting my eyes and doing what I've been doing for a few days now: bringing up our short interaction and reliving it over and over again, bit by bit. Nothing was missed; every smile, every flick of her hair, every twinkle in her eyes.

'I can't believe her name's also Lissa,' I muttered to myself and wondered why I hadn't said, 'oh hey, we already have a Lissa in this compound. I guess you're Lissa number two'.

That's stupid. Thank God I didn't say that. Lissa number two? That's stupid. I didn't want her to be Lissa number two, and I didn't care about that other Lissa. We barely said hi and that suited me just fine.

I cringed and quickly rolled over as if she somehow heard my thoughts from wherever she was. Where was she anyway?

I sat up and picked my phone. It was almost 8 p.m., and I told myself it wasn't too late in the day to branch over to say hi.

My heart thumped and I sat up, considering this possibility.

What will I say to her?

I knew she'd let me in if I went over to her room, and I knew she'd give me that eager look she always flashed my way; a deep, searching gaze like she wanted to figure me out, and like she expected me to say something to her.

I never did, even after our interaction when she came to borrow the knife, and even after that.
Say hi, Dickhead, I'd scold myself whenever I saw her coming my way and our eyes would meet, and my body would freeze and go into panic mode and I'd just stare at her as she stared back, a smile on her face.

I'd exhale after she walked past and then cross the road, pretending to buy something as I raised my head and watched her board a bike.
Idiot, idiot! I'd yell at myself in my head. I think I hate myself. That has to be the best conclusion to that.
I once saw her standing by the ATM one sunny afternoon. I wanted to head over to her. She hadn't seen me yet so I had enough time to compose myself, but then I started to overthink it as usual.

What will you say to her?

What if she's already with someone.

But she's standing right there alone. She might appreciate the company.

But you're stupid and an idiot, and you can't do this one thing right.

She did look alone and a bit...lost, standing there, looking around.

I was still stuck in a stupid argument with myself when a guy walked to her. Two guys, they were; the second one, fatter and shorter. She seemed to know them for she smiled and talked to them, and then the three of them started walking towards the main gate.

I've no idea why, but she suddenly looked in my direction and I think she saw me. I wasn't sure, because I panicked again and nearly jumped into a gutter just to hide. I missed the gutter, thank God, but I misjudged my jump and twisted my ankle, clipping my head against a stupid tree covered in posters.

I limped home that day and became haunted by that memory.

'But not tonight,' I said out loud and snapped the book shut. I started rehearsing what I'd say as I put on a shirt and bathed myself in a cloud of body spray. It stung my eyes a little bit otherwise it smelled nice.

I left my room and my hands shook as I tried to lock the door. Calm down, boy, I urged myself.

The keys rattled in my hand and I soon gave up and just shut the door and drew out the curtain, just in case someone had the smart idea of entering the room. My door was notorious for creaking and opening on its own so the curtain was sure to make anyone think I was in.

The corridor stretched farther than normal. I walked slowly, vaguely aware of what sounded like pots clanking, and the excited chatter of people about to have dinner. I smelled it, too: beans.

I took a right along the corridor and knew I'd have the bend to the left to get to her room which was the last along the opposite corridor.

My heart still thumped hard. Constantly inhaling and exhaling didn't seem to help at all. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my shorts and suddenly felt naked. I should have brought something--a conversation started, maybe a book.

I was still thinking through all this, my heart thumping louder as I drew closer to her room, when I heard a familiar voice; a voice I always hear around the compound; a voice synonymous to girls.

The door to the last room--her room--was wide open. The light fell through, an orange glow spread against the wall and the locked gate at the other end. Light also fell through the window. The aroma of onions and tomatoes, and something else being fried, filled the air.

It smelled good but I didn't bother about that. My mind was on the voices, particularly his own.
Stop and turn back now, I told myself. I did nothing of such. I soon found myself standing by the door. I didn't want to look in but I had to; it'd have been weird if I just stood there, or if I'd walked past--the other gate was locked and nobody used it.

She was in the room, sitting on the bed with a big, pink stuffed animal clasped against her chest. Her eyes lit up as she laughed, but not to any I said. The other voice went on and on, churning jokes and witty comments.

My eyes went to him. Chidi. Of course, I thought.
He didn't have any shirt on and he sat at the entrance of the room, streaks of sweat visible on his body. The room was hot, despite the stand fan whirling from left to right, and I soon figured out why: her roommate, the dark girl, came out of the kitchen with two steaming plates of rice.
I don't think any of them noticed me, at least not until he said something.


'Ah Dickson, my guy.' His voice was so calm, so relaxed. He was always like that. She looked at me as soon as he spoke. Our eyes met and she gave me a short smile of recognition. The roommate also looked at me, so now I had three pairs of eyes fixed on me.


Was I nervous? Well, my ears my ringing and my body felt hot, and I wanted the ground to open. She continued looking at me, probably expecting me to say something.

'I...uh,' I cleared my throat and shrugged, looking away from her. 'I thought I heard your voice, just said I should have a look.'

Who was I talking to? I have no idea, but he assumed he was the one and he laughed and said something. I don't know what it was but I was looking at her again. Just looking at her sitting over there, her hair over her shoulder and one leg stretched out, with the stuffed animal resting on her, I felt the strong need to talk to her. I wished he wasn't there; I wished we were alone, but we weren't so I said:

'I was able to do that question you gave me.'
He knew I was talking to her now, so he looked at her.

'Oh, okay,' she said before he cut her short and shifted over to the floor where the plates were and grabbed a spoon.

'Come chop na, Dickson. No dey do shy shy every time.'

Bleep you, man.

I looked at her and let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of my head.

My body heated up and I despised him at that particular moment, although that feeling only lasted a minute or so.

'I'm not hungry.'

I turned and left, cursing myself for deciding to go there. I heard his voice almost immediately, and the clanking of a spoon on the plate. I also heard a short giggle from her, and her roommate's voice.

They're talking about me; laughing at how stupid I am, I thought and walked away. The voices faded behind me as I walked away, then I heard someone call out my name.

I turned around and saw her.


'I'll come around tomorrow and you'll teach me,' she said and I nodded.

'Sounds good.'

She twirled her hair around her finger, stood on her toes and smiled. 'See you tomorrow.'

'Goodnight.'

I leaned against a pillar and watched her go back. Her roommate came out a minute later and we exchanged short 'hello's' as I pretended to look natural leaning against the pillar.

She was in there, with Chidi. I heard their voices. Loud and happy. They're already friends, I said to myself and it hurt. I shrugged it off and tried not to think about it. I'll see her tomorrow, right?

A moment with me and she'll know I'm better than him...right?

What a fool I was.

I didn't sleep well that night, and it didn't help when I heard her roommate's voice in the room next to mine. I shut my door and locked the windows, stuffing my ears with my earpiece and cranking up the music. It helped...a little.

Tomorrow will be better, I told myself. Don't fret, Dickson. What's the worst that could happen.

I guess I should have backed off at that period. I think I did, but she was always there. The pain was coming--tiny pricks in the farthest reaches of my heart--and I ignored it. A stupid move.

.

Badlimo:
Story is getting boring please spice it up

Really? I'll see what I can do then.

But first, any suggestions? I'm sure you'll certainly have one. I'll like to hear it. Saying it's getting boring doesn't really tell me much.

Also, I promise to make the coming episodes better. Thanks for reading.

Snippet from Episode 14. Is Dickson about to get himself in trouble?

-----

Morning devotions were always boring. We had them every morning since I was a child. What's the point of telling us what we already know? I'd feel like asking but, fearing my mother's fiery temper, wisely kept my opinions to myself.

Jesus died for us. Yes. Don't do bad things, we know; heaven and hell is real, we aren't arguing, so why did we have to be woken up at 6 every morning all in the name of devotion and prayers?


One of mother's recurring lessons was: always mind the kind of friends you keep. Bad friends will get you in trouble.

I thought about that lesson over and over again as I followed Sammy into the black BMW waiting outside the compound.
My senses were off; there were red flags everywhere.

The driver looked rough: dark shades, poker face and a long cut along his chin. He smelled of weed and alcohol, another red flag. The car was battered and old, patched with different colors of rusty metal and choking black smoke escaped from the gaping exhaust.

But I was with Sammy so what the hell could go wrong?

The door slammed shut as soon as we got in and the driver glanced through the rearview mirror, checking us out.

I felt uneasy and whispered to Sammy, who had his hands folded across his chest, looking smug and relaxed, 'where are we going?'

Why was I asking this question now? I could have asked that twenty minutes ago, when he'd come knocking at my door asking me to follow him somewhere.

'Relax,' Sammy answered without looking at me. I still felt uneasy and definitely didn't feel like relaxing, especially with how that driver looked at us.

I leaned back against the seat and exhaled. The car soon coughed to a start and edged through the street, splashing through thick puddles as it veered info the main road.

More in E.p 14

TheBizarreWrite:


Really? I'll see what I can do then.

But first, any suggestions? I'm sure you'll certainly have one. I'll like to hear it. Saying it's getting boring doesn't really tell me much.

Also, I promise to make the coming episodes better. Thanks for reading.

he needs to speak out more at least if he does want to change from being shy..and it seems he is already falling in love i thought the story should be about him turning to a play boy

okay this is good stuff you've got here bro...
I coronaly await the next episode