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2024-10-29 19:42:56"Hello!" Tyrone said, struggling to get from the floor, he was about to sit down on the bed when he caught small drops of sperm on the bed, in fact, Tyrone just realized for the first time that the whole place smelt like sex.
He managed to walk out of the room and walked down to the sitting room.
"Hello?" Tyrone called out again when no response was forthcoming.
"Good evening, am I onto Mr. Tyrone Jefferson?" Came a male voice. Tyrone raised an eyebrow wondering who Tyrone Jefferson was, obviously, the person at the other end of the phone had mistaken him.
"Yes I am Tyrone but not..."
"Oh thank goodness, sir, your grandfather has been searching the whole country for you."
"My grandfather? My grandfather died a long time ago. Tyrone managed to reply with the blood still in his mouth.
"I appreciate the sarcasm sir but your grandfather is still in the hospital but not dead yet and he wants to see you."
"Uhm, I think you've got the wrong person, my name is Tyrone Rodriguez and not Jefferson." Tyrone tried explaining as he undid the buttons of his shirt.
"That's what you think sir, but your grandfather would soon give up the ghost and he wants you by his side when he dies."
Tyrone started coughing up blood all of a sudden, unable to respond to what the man had said. Out of reflex, he ended the call and dropped the phone, and quickly ran into the bathroom to throw up the blood.
He vomited a whole lot of blood and flushed it down the sink. "ugh!" He groaned and wiped his mouth with the back of his palm.
He went back into the room and picked up his phone, he felt the way he had ended the call was rude so he decided to call the person back again, and as he was about to dial the number, the same person called back.
Tyrone picked up the call immediately. "I'm so sorry about the way I ended the call, I had to attend to something," Tyrone said.
There was an awkward silence, save for the man's breathing at the other end of the phone. "it's okay." The man said.
"Can you tell me where your house address is, we'll come pick you up in a few minutes."
Tyrone was about to give him the address before he stopped to think about it. "Uhm, why do you need my house address?" Tyrone asked, raising his brow.
"Your grandfather has instructed us to come pick you up."
Tyrone didn't have the time to ask how many of them were there. "I said you've got the wrong Tyrone and my grandfather died a long time ago," Tyrone said.
"I've got to go now," Tyrone said and ended the call without waiting for the man to respond.
He threw the phone gently onto the couch and sat down beside it, clutching his head tightly, the pain in his stomach was growing intense by the moment.
"I need to get to the hospital as soon as possible." That bastard just has bruised a lot of vital organs in my stomach." He seethed through his teeth and stood up. He grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket and headed for the exit.
"Tyrone!"
"Tyrone, are you in there?" Fred's voice came from the living room.
"Yes, I'm up here." Tyrone responded "And you're just in time." He added to himself as the pain in his stomach intensified.
Fred ran up the stairs and into the room. "Shit!" He cursed the moment he saw Tyrone, the front of his shirt soaked with blood from his mouth.
"What the hell happened to you?" Fred asked, running his eyes all over Tyrone.
"Just get me to the hospital, Fred," Tyrone said with an air of urgency as he grabbed Fred by the shoulder.
"Oh okay!" Fred said immediately and helped Tyrone down the stairs till they were out of the house and inside Fred's car.
Fred started the engines and zoomed off to the hospital.
"Faster, Fred!" Tyrone called from the back seat as his breathing grew worse by the minute.
"I can't go any faster than this, Ty, we're already past the speed limit. Just hang in there buddy, we'll be at the hospital soon." Fred informed him, darting his eyes from the rearview mirror and then back to the road.
In no time, they were already at the hospital.
"What the hell, Fred, you brought me to St Louis hospital, how the hell am I supposed to afford this place, I spent the last money I have on the wedding, I don't have any money left."
"The hell? You're freaking dying Tyrone and the only thing you're thinking about is how you can afford to pay for your treatment?"
"Well yeah, I'm the one dying and not you." Tyrone mustered all his strength to sound as sarcastic as possible. "Come help me out of here before you start planning on how to pay for my funeral instead of my treatment," Tyrone said and stretched out his hand to Fred.
Fred got down from the driver's seat and helped Tyrone out of the passenger seat.
"Easy now," Fred said to Tyrone as they made their way into the hospital.
"Are there no freaking nurses around here?" Fred bellowed before a few nurses came rushing out. They retrieved Tyrone from Fred and took him inside. Tyrone had started coughing out more blood and he reeked of blood with a mixture of strong gin that made the nurses wringle their noses.
"Mr Tyrone Jefferson, is that you?" A man dressed in the finest suit Tyrone had ever seen stood at the entrance.
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A Time Before
Tyrone had just settled down on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, his fingers apathetically flicking through the tv channels. He had arranged to spend his end of the week unwinding, free from any dramatization. His life had been serene ever since he and Vanessa broke up months back. In spite of the fact that their relationship had been a tornado of enthusiasm, it was moreover full with superfluous contentions, control, and manipulations. He was happy it was over. He was happier now, centering on himself, and now not weighed down by her passionate rollercoaster. The doorbell rang, pulling Tyrone out of his thoughts. He looked at his wristwatch, scowling. He wasn’t expecting anybody. He hurled the inaccessible onto the sofa and headed toward the front door. Opening it, he was met with the sight of none other than Vanessa standing on his balcony, her arms crossed over her chest, her regular grin settled on her lips. Tyrone flickered in shock. “Vanessa? What are you doin
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Vanessa observed the sun plunge underneath the skyline through her loft window. Its searing orange beams cast long shadows over her living room, coordinating the turmoil roiling in her mind. Tyrone had been hers—once. They had went through a long time together, building dreams and making plans for the longer term. But all of that changed when Judy entered the picture. Vanessa clenched her clench hands, her knuckles white against the scenery of her profound brown skin. Judy had stolen Tyrone. No—she had enticed him, attracted him away, demolished everything. It wasn’t reasonable. Vanessa paced back and forward in her little, faintly lit flat, her bare feet making delicate crashes against the wooden floor. The sharpness chewed at her. Months had passed since Tyrone and Judy had gotten hitched, and Vanessa’s life had spiralled ever since. Each time she saw them together, grinning, living the life she ought to have had, a new piece of her, smashed. She seems to feel herself falling more
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Judy faltered for a minute before she thumped on Tyrone’s front door. Her heart was beating, her palms were clammy, and she may still feel the sting of their final contention new in her mind. The battle they had before she raged out was unstable, filled with yelling, allegations, and a torrent of feelings, not one or the other of them had completely caught on at the time. Tyrone had blamed her for not trusting him, and Judy had let go back, irate and harmed, that he was still hung up on his ex, Vanessa. She knew she shouldn’t be back here so before long, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they had left things uncertain. After what felt like an forever, the door swung open, and there stood Tyrone, his expression incoherent. His dim eyes bolted onto hers, and for a moment, not one or the other of them talked. The pressure between them was thick, as in spite of the fact that the contention was still hanging within the air , overwhelming and unwavering. “Judy?” Tyrone’s voice brok
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Judy had been pacing her flat for hours, the cadenced tap of her heels against the wooden floor as it were sound breaking the hush. She looked at her phone for the tenth time in as many minutes, her thumb drifting over Tyrone's title. It was continuously the same with him—pulling her in, pushing her away, as if to drag her back once more. But this time, Judy decided things would be different . She wasn’t going to let him just walk back into her life without a few kinds of confirmation. She knew precisely what she needed, and she knew she had use. Over town, Tyrone sat at his table, gazing at the city horizon through the wide windows of his office. His domain sprawled out underneath him, a kingdom built on canny deals and heartless aspiration. However, none of it appeared to matter when his thoughts floated to Judy. Their relationship was like a storm, all-consuming and outlandish to foresee. He had made his botches, more than he cared to tally, but he was prepared to make things righ
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Tyrone stood outside the door, his hands trembling as he clenched and unclenched his clench hands. The late evening sun showered the neighbourhood in a brilliant tone, but Tyrone felt nothing but the weight of his inconveniences. He might feel the sweat on his chin, each ball of sweat reminding him of the storm brewing in his life. He took a deep breath, his heart beating in his chest, and thumped on the door. Some seconds passed before he listened to the rearranging of feet from the other side. His beat enlivened. Would she indeed open the door? The door squeaked open, and there she stood—Judy, his spouse, the love of his life. She looked at him with a blend of shock and guardedness, her eyes checking his face as if looking for answers he didn’t have. She was wearing a formal blue dress that he had continuously cherished, but presently it felt like a boundary between them, an update of the life they had shared and the one they had misplaced. “What do you need, Tyrone?” Judy inquir
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Vanessa had continuously been the kind of lady who got what she needed. She had the charm, the looks, and the mind to drag anybody into her circle. When she and Tyrone were together, they were the envy of everybody they knew. They were the “it” couple—the idealised coordinate, everybody said. But that was a long time back, before Tyrone met Alexis, before everything changed. Vanessa stood at the entrance of the swarmed bar, filtering the ocean of faces until she spotted him. Tyrone sat at a little table by the window, nursing a drink and gazing vacantly out into the night. He looked good—maybe more than he had the last time she saw him, she thought. His shoulders were broader, his fashion more refined, but his eyes still held that recognizable thoughtfulness. Vanessa took a deep breath and walked over, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. “Tyrone,” she said, her voice light, nearly perky, as she pulled the chair over from him and sat down without holding up for a welcome. T
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The sun had scarcely risen, but Judy was as of now situated at her extravagant living room couch, coffee in hand, as she looked over thoughtlessly through her phone. Her mornings ordinarily started with a calming routine—coffee, a scroll through social media, and a brief look at the features. But nowadays it is different. As she scrolled through the most recent prattle, her heart halted. A strong feature flashed over her screen: *"Vanessa Reported Pregnant With Tyrone's Child!" Judy’s grasp fixed on her phone, her breath stuck in her throat. Vanessa, Tyrone’s ex-girlfriend, was pregnant. And not just pregnant—pregnant with Tyrone’s child. Judy squinted, hoping the headline to stop, but the words remained the same, dazzling back at her with the cruelty of truth. Her vision obscured as her mind dashed back to all the discussions she’d had with Tyrone about belief, about trustworthiness, and around their future together. He’d told her about Vanessa, about the muddled breakup, and about
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Tyrone sat at the edge of his bed, the morning sun casting long shadows on the floor. He hadn’t rested a wink. His mind was a tangled mess of questions, questions, and outrage. He knew one thing for sure: he was planning to get to the foot of the mess that had ended up in his life. The last few weeks had been a hurricane of disclosures and heartbreaks, and Tyrone felt like he was suffocating within the chaos. Vanessa’s pregnancy declaration had hit him like a cargo prepare. They had dated a long time before, but Tyrone was certain their relationship had finished for good. He had moved on, hitched Judy, and begun a life he thought would be filled with adore and solidness. But Vanessa’s sudden return, tummy swollen with child, had tossed everything into confusion. Tyrone ran a hand over his tired face and let out a profound moan. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the hush. He glanced at the screen—another missed call from Judy. He couldn’t bring himself to reply. Judy had
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Troubled Mistake
Tyrone hadn't seen or listened from Vanessa in about a long time. Their relationship had finished in blazes, the kind of breakup that clears out no room for compromise or inviting farewells. So when he spotted her name blazing on his phone one evening, his heart skipped a beat. Recollections of their unstable relationship came flooding back, and he wavered before replying. "Hi?" Tyrone’s voice was cautious, as as if bracing for the most obvious. There was a delay on the other end, and for a minute, he thought she might have hung up. At that point, Vanessa's voice came through, sounding uniquely repressed. "Tyrone, it's me." He breathed out strongly, feeling a blend of alleviation and unease. "Vanessa. Typically ... scared." "Better believe it, I know," she answered, her voice temperamental. "I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't critical." Tyrone scowled, his mind dashing with conceivable outcomes. Vanessa was not one to reach out for unimportant things, particularly not after the w
