The wind; The thunder & The Lightening

    Hello Readers. This post was NOT planned for in any way. I got on the web, and the story just came to my head and what more can a writer do? I had two things to stress; The keyboard and my eyes(being too close to the screen  makes me see ghosts literally LOL)  On a better, brighter note,My poem "DEAD WOMEN TELL NO TALES" Was featured on the Widely read Nigerian Newspaper, "THE PUNCH" yesterday (March 1st) In it the Editor, described me as "A MUSE". I must say, not all the pictures of Kim Kardashian has brought so much joy to my soul as it did. I Hope to break more boundaries, (By his Grace of cause)and improve everyday, with the comments you all drop on my blog. This short story is 100% fiction. Nothing in this, relates to my personal life in ANY way . I hope you all take time to read it & Let me know how i did as usual.. Blessings to you all. E-smiles.

The wind; The thunder & The Lightening.

                                                  By Keside Francis-Anosike

      

JULY 20TH; Temitope Peters; 8:09

        
  It was a cold November morning, the sun hid behind the clouds and i heard the sound of moving vehicles on the highway as i sat in the balcony of our 5bedroom duplex. I still had my night gown on and my hair sheltered in a hair net. my mouth was clingy; as a result of late night snacking. i had been pn the phone all night. My family already made their way to early morning mass, my mother was looking lovely in a peach and silver dotted lace and gele, and also was my sister, in a little black dress. she was the pretty one, the reason for my mishap. I couldn't stand next to her without someone comparing my paternity in their thoughts. I purposely told my mother that "my visitor" had arrived,and "he"wouldn't let me make mass, as it twitches in my stomach. She should have known by now, what time my period flows, but she is too busy, chasing after the young boys with sport cars and DMX records. She believed in painting the outside image, deep down we were broken. Three broken people living together with a perfect family picture frame, hanging in the living room, adjourned with stale cobwebs. So I lied. That was all i do.

             I went down to the kitchen, the plates from last night were still in the sink and the windows were locked,giving it a musk sting, i sat across the dinning table, facing the garden,gazing at the beautiful flowers and how the wind kissed it. It didn't need to impress anyone, the wind came looking for it. I wanted to clean up the kitchen,then listen to the local station on our old stereo while i mop and dust the living room, but i imagined Temitayo, with her perfect curls, long bold nose,straight legs, slim lips and the way the light reflected on her skin. I imagined her talking with all the boys after church as the church held its meeting. I imagined her not speaking of me; ignoring my existence because of something i didn't create. As all this images merged with one and another, i made my way back to the stairs and went to my room. I will call Ada, and we will talk again. She will tell me that she loves me and she will love to kiss me behind the school chapel as she did three times a week in school. I will giggle. I will tell her about the neighbors and how they played loud music even on a Sunday morning. Then we will hope to make it past this phase, she will assure me that nobody will ever find out about the two of us. The worries in my mind wouldn't let me breathe properly, choking the air in my lungs, and with my heart racing, with the speed of an athlete, i looked out the window, and in the wind, the thunder and the lightening i see the loneliness of the world. I couldn't suppress it; The aching of my heart and the longing of my soul to feel wanted; to feel valued. The only person that used to show me all these is no more. He left mommy on a Saturday morning,she pleaded with him to stay, and that she was ready to overlook all the wrongs he had done. she crawled to his knee, holding it tightly like a woman in child labor holding her might. He pushed her to the ground and with the wind, he flung his ring to the air. The thunder rolled as he drove off in his Mercedes; not looking back,and with the absence of the red brake light, mama screamed and curse the wind, the thunder and the lightening for bearing witness to the death of her soul. Tayo was asleep as i watched my life crumble also, with the wind my heart left, with the thunder; my life was shattered and with the lightening, i saw the last ray of light. I decided not to tell her what happened, so i lied. that's all i do. And now, 11years later, I'm looking up to the ceiling; lost in thought, and wondering How i found peace and love in a fellow girl's arm?  Nobody will have to find out about this. I will lay in with the curtains closed and no form of light, and when mama comes back, i will act as if i haven't woken up since they left. i will lie. That is all i do.

 JULY 2OTH; Temitayo Peters. 8:42am             

             
We were 20mins late for mass. Mama didn't always wake up this late,but the weather had an effect on her. Maybe she didn't hear the cock crow or she came back late as usual. I had stopped waiting up for her. She takes her own key, so sneaking in is made comfortable for her. It had become a habit, she no longer cared how this hurts us, or stopped to wonder if the men she keeps late nights with could be our teacher or a friends father. As we walked into the church,it was decorated with beautiful flowers and ribbons. I saw the same set of women, seating together every Sunday; the women who wore glittering gowns and came to church with business cards. I walked ahead of her. She greeted all her friends before she made her way to a seat, close to the right side exist. The preacher man spoke about heaven. He painted it with all the beautiful words Mrs Ejike used to adore her sons house in America. He said the streets were made of Gold and nothing was flirty. He said there was 24hours power supply and all the kids didn't get hungry. So i remembered the way Temitope thought of heaven when we were young. "It is a place daddy left mommy to go. He will make plenty money and come back for us. We will ride donkeys and horses and dress up in high heels". That was the temitope i Knew. When we were young, we did almost everything together, played with the sands, shared the same bath and defended each-other when the other was weak She is my twin. Correction; Was my twin till a certain Saturday evening, when i woke up and looked into her eyes, and knew she was gone....

         The preacher man started talking about love. He spoke nicely of the something I've never known. He said it was in the peace i didn't own and all the wonderful things of all nature's existence. The beauty voice of the nightingale and the aroma of the purple hibiscus.He described those who do not express it as wicked. So perhaps i am wicked, perhaps all that daddy did to mommy before he left made me wicked. Or was it Tope's inability to show compassion or care. Was it the numbness in her bones or the cruelty in her eyes? Maybe it was harsh words of Mrs Ejike when i failed an English class. I sighed as i looked at Jimmy. He was every girl's dream man, he had perfect teeth and he stood upright. He was tall and He walked with a swag, his hands in his pocket and moved with the grace of a village maiden dancer. He wore a tight shirt, and perfect blue jeans, the waves on his hair and the way it shone from afar as a result of perfect maintainance made my heart skip. Each time i see him,His eyes makes me fall under a curse and his body is all i thirst for. He stole a gaze, and i bent my head with the shyness of a 7year old naked boy in a female doctor's office for an appointment.  
 

   The preacher man spoke; He asked that we seek love in all areas of life, and that was the only assurance of finding peace. He asked that we forgive our husbands and our wives, that hate dries us up and asked that we shake each others hand after we conclude the service. He said "Hate is a powerful emotion, seeming to travel through the blood, infecting every inch of our body in seconds .Church was over, as everyone moved from one corner of the hall to another, staining the long red carpet on the Aile,Jimmy walked up to me, to 'shake my hand' as the Priest had instructed. My bones froze, I felt adrenaline, a rush in my veins. I wanted to shiver, my palms got itchy and i was scared that if i said one word, i will stutter. I wondered if he could hear my heart, beating as loud as an 808 drum. The wind, the thunder and the lightening whispered to me that he was a heart breaker. That he is always hungry, always looking for a heart to eat and make it bleed. But My God He also had perfect white teeth and he kept his nails neat and well trimmed. He spoke words to me with the silence of wrestling ants,  Each word was chosen with such care and every sentence was razor sharp. Every line was placed so perfectly to cause more damage to my vulnerable heart and leave my soul bleeding.  When we got to the parking lot, i gave him my number, and made way to the car to meet my mom, selling her goods to women who also wore glittering lace to church. As i walked, i turned to see if he was looking at me, and there he was, looking right back at me. I giggled.
    I sat in the car, and put the earphones into my ear, and thought about Jimmy's hand, caressing my breasts,his strong legs weakening my bones, the smell of his cologne drowning in my lungs and his tongue, discovering the bitterness that lingers in my mouth. I moaned and stressed my chin to a smile.