"Really?" Deola asks with a light frown, watching Tunrayo buckle over with laughter.
The convertible by which she stands is parked close to the magnificent Assembly Hall which once was the center of their Prom Activities, two days back.
However, with the Prom events concluded, the hall is back to it's regular state, all of it's fanfare, glitter and sparkles gone with the events as well. The electric fence of wires that alienated the hall from the rest of the school is down as well, allowing unrestricted access to the rest of the school and it's various buildings and what not.
The once littered parking lot, infront of the hall too is free and the only car at the moment occupying it is the black convertible.
The convertible had come in from the main gates of the school and was allowed entry when they had mentioned they were living in the staff quarters, a white lie, they reasoned.
Only after the lie could they drive past the school
"No, you shut up!" Deola explodes. " You are the freak! You are demented. You a-are..." She shakes her head in horror, the only expression visible on it is dread.She longs for words to say as her head moves left to right in total fright, as if she'd seen a ghost. Which should be correct because the one in front of her is not something she would classify far from a ghost.For God's Sake, she is looking at a spirit or ghost- which ever fit- and the experience is enough to send ice cold chills through her spine.With no more words to complete her sentence, Deola turns, her feet racing her away from Tade.She hears a sigh behind her, followed by an inaudible mumbling, but she does not bother a second glance, even if it is to the one who gave her warmth, a minute ago, she does not care.The wind is still cold and biting, almost giving a sensation that if she stayed still, she'd freeze. As she runs, distance coming in between herself and Tayo, she
The sun is drooping down, in the sky, radiating heat to the people of Badagry in Lagos Nigeria. Bared of the numerous skies, the heat is unforgiving but as always, it is not enough to stop the people from going about their activities along the estate road.A car drives by and stops by a gate, from which a young man highlights from black vehicle. He has a sharp cut by the left of his head, sporting an undercut hairstyle. His dressing is quite simple and stuffy in a way as he wears a harsh colored tight trousers, a long baggy white colored shirt, black boot sneakers and a blue denim jacket, despite the blazing heat.He soon walks into the drive way of Deola's home and silently moves to the door, all the while dabbing his face occasionally and twirling the red rose wrapped in the transparent plastic casing as the aromatizing cologne airs about him is being burnt out by the heat.He has squarely shaped jaws, tanned skin, the perfect model look and he is
"You know what? When you're done, get the fuck out of the house." Deola replies coldly as she opens the door to leave.Seeing her leave, Nathaniel sighs heavily, putting his dragon within the confines of his clothings. Slowly, he buttons his shirt but his mind is not with him.Absent minded is Nathaniel as he drops his weight on the bed unable to put a lid on what happened earlier with Deola.And to even think that she'd use the f word on him. Either he had started seeing illusions or Deola was slowly changing.Into someone he could not any more understand.At least, the Deola he knew back then was this docile, innocent girl who always looked to everyone's wellbeing no matter what.Not that he currently refutes it, but the glare and the anger with which she had reacted to him was startling.'Is this because of the Tade guy?'He asks himself mentally.'But she sounded so sure that she never mentioned a Tade.' Nathaniel trie
The day is hot and windy, occasionally wisps of dust clouds twirling up and down as vehicles zoomed past on the dual carriageways. Scanty clouds make the heat in full intensity upon the people which is because of the current season in Nigeria. The carriage way is accentuated by bumps and the occasional potholes filled with little puddles of water that splash each time a vehicle accidentally swerves into them.Although there is here road cones at the service lane where a few civil engineers and labourers, members of the Federal Road Management Agency(FERMA) with a heap of granite, a few shovels and wheelbarrows and a heavy duty sand truck on the standby with its engines still revved.They work, making technical decisions as is common with their occupation in determining the costs of the road repairs, totally oblivious to the black convertible that zooms past them as they are currently
Sunlight filters from the window, with its curtain parted to the side. Adjacent the window is yet, another window in similar fashion as the day is very hot. This is due to the factor of the new coming season of harmattan in Nigeria, which is a time of hot weather but yet cold and foggy mornings and afternoons.But to alleviate thew situation, to power holding company is absent in its duties as there is no power in the room. The tablw on which the piece of pressing iron still contains neatly stacked books, an orange, foldable reading lamp, a bottle opener, pens and a stack of paper cards littered on it. Also, there is a white ceramic plate tray which contains hot aromatizing chin-chin from which a hand picks a couple of them, straight into a waiting mouth.It is Deola and she leans against the table, her butt to the rim as her mouth crunches on the chin-chin. She wears a purple s
“Mum, Dad, I’m going for a sleepover at Tunrayo’s place.” Deola says, a hand holding her elbow as she stands before the Television, facing her parents who sat in a cuddling position on the settee, watching the laptop on Richard’s lap.“Sleepover?” Deola’s mum says, frowning slightly behind her glasses, her head on the shoulder of her husband, Richard, in her brown linen gown.“Yes, Mum.” Deola leans forward in her yellow spaghetti top and black joggers, her eyes pleading, while holding a see through white gown and white tennis short. “Sleepover. Nothing More.”“Good.” Came Tunrayo’s voice from Deola’s earpod in her left hair which is hidden by the draping woollen pink headwarmer.“You don’t go for sleepovers ever. And today is Friday. In a few hours it will be time for the Weekly Prayer Vigil and none of us is missing it.” Deola’s mum’s eyes flashes.
[MATURE CONTENT R+18]Tunrayo sighs again, watching as Nathaniel wraps his hand around Deola’s waist and her shoulder. She makes to speak but closes her mouth again, the disco light playing a part in slowing her down.For some seconds, she cannot bring herself to just let Deola go but then again, Nathaniel and Deola has as always, had a spark that made people think they were in a relationship even though they weren’t.“I’m sorry, Dee. Nat, lets go… “ She urges as Nathaniel begins to move, Deola becoming surprisingly docile, hanging drunkenly over his shoulder.“No, Tunrayo. You look like a mess yourself. Your hair is dishevelled. You should seat here and maybe… just grab a drink, you know.” Nathaniel repl
THE ALTERCATION3 Days Earlier…“How?” The fair skinned figure with the model perfect body sighs, a hand to his chin.No matter how he thinks it, he cannot seem to understand and so, ‘how’ is the only word that still stays, unchanging in his mind.How? How? How?By normal logic, it is impossible. He did cover the tracks well, didn’t he?Oh, right those snapshots…But then, how is he to know that Tunrayo would pull such stunt as the one sh