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Chapter 26
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Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Chapter 27
Chord Overstreet- Hold on. "Are you ok?" Ace asked after observing how nauseous Nora looked as the plane took off. She skeptically nodded yet, he embedded her hand in his. "I forgot to ask; how long will it take to arrive?" "Forty-eight hours." "Oh, God!" She shut her eyes in exasperation. Barely thirty minutes into the flight, Nora had fallen asleep while Ace rounded up on the magazine he was skimming through after which he drifted his attention to the white masses out of the window. No one knew he was returning home. Not even his closest member of the family who was Eloïse. But he was going to get to that as soon as they alighted the plane. He then wondered how things would turn out after Nora's operation; would she want to return or stay with him in his hometown? Would they be more than what they were or was it going to be the end of them? He sighed. How he feared to get devoted. It would probably be best if they parted ways. Nora's ruffle made him turn to his right, where
Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Chapter 28
Lauren Daigle-- you say. "Mr. Woods," the doctor called an anticipating and pacing Ace who rushed to him in two strides instead of six on a normal occasion. It's been one frustrating hour since they'd arrived at the hospital with no bit of news on Nora's well-being. That alone chopped him to the core. "How's she doing?" He persistently grabbed the man's arms tightly. "She's fine, isn't she?" "She's conscious," the understanding doctor reassured. "You must be informed that she has a-" "I know that." Ace cut in, not wanting to hear the term which has been making his life a living hell of recent. "Ok. She has to be operated upon as soon-" "I know that too. That's why we're here...I mean," he sighed and ruffled his hair. "Just do everything you can to save her. Please." The man unnoticeably nodded in sympathy. "In the meantime, can I see her?" "Sure, Room 4. I'll send a team in a bit." Ace scurried down the hallway and halted in front of the door where he peeked through the squ
Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Chapter 29
Zoe weez-- control. "Nora," Ace jogged to the frailty whose head was blanketed with thick layers of bandages. Her abdomen was concealed beneath a thin white hospital sheet. "How do you feel?" She smiled. The most genuine smile she'd offered since the gruesome incident. "A lot better." Ace reflected her grin, "I'm glad. Really," he kissed her lip, "the doctor said they weren't abl—" A knock on the door cut him off and in protruded his mother's head. "Can we come in?" He almost forgot about their presence. A nod was enough to have them beelining in. "Oh, and this is your...friend?" His mum quizzed, skepticism clearly donning her voice. "Uh...Yeah, her name is Nora," Ace nervously rubbed his neck. "Oh, Nora. Nice to meet you, deary," Zaphrina cheerfully grinned. "I mean it from the infinity depth of my heart. We don't see 'friends' like you every day." "Mum!" "I'm Zaphrina by the way, you can call me Zaph." "Nice to meet you too, mum." Zaphrina who was taken aback by the way
Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Chapter 30
Lord Huron-- In the wind. "Mr. Woods, do you mind doing the outro?" Ace stared at nothing in particular for as long as he could remember before uttering, "My name is Ace," he said, his voice almost inaudible, "and that is the story of how I lost my fiancée exactly one year ago." April 19th, marked Nora exactly a year in the land of the dead, a year without the view of her pretty face, a year without her smile and placid nature of her voice, a year without her sweetly nagging attitude, a year since he last set eyes on her before shutting the hospital door, a year since he had avoided everyone and everything besides a visit to her grave which owned nothing but her clothes. On the day she left, it rained cats and dogs like it presently did. Even I will be mad at myself if I died. She had said. Was that a sign? "Thank you for sharing your story with us Mr. Woods," Mrs. Sterns, the fellowship coordinator appreciated. His mum had forced him to join the fellowship eight months ago
Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Chapter 31
Inspired by Emma Bale--All I want. "Hey," Ace turned to a brunette with ear-level short hair whose eyes reflected those of the rustling leaves. She was in a pair of sneakers and skinny damp jeans beneath a purple turtle-neck. A pang of familiarity immediately hit him but his mind was too foggy to think clearly. The girl slightly tilted her head concurrently with a faint smile. "Didn't know the wind would go as far as disrupting serene moments." "Huh?" She tilted her chin to the piece of paper in Ace's hold, "That's a piece of my journal." "Oh, trust me it didn't disrupt anything." She smiled and walked closer, "glad to hear that," she eyed the name inscribed on the tombstone, "Death is really something else, huh? Losing someone dear feels like losing a big part of you and your life you never knew existed. She was a good person, wasn't she?" She quickly turned to Ace who nodded sadly. "Funny how the world is: the bad prevail and the good perish." From the way she spoke, she mu
Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Preface.
Welcome to unedited Black book 3 of the Woods series. This book can be read independently. You can read it without adventuring into 'Married to a stripper'. I'll be extremely happy if those who haven't checked that book out do so. I hope you enjoy my works. Love you guys much much. Your humble author Zagzahzlau. ~••~ The Sunday night was frigid against unarmed skin in Buea--the city of legendary hospitality-- located in the southwest region of Cameroon. The morning's once busy roads were converted into night ghostly highways as inhabitants of the small city had sheltered their bodies beneath the coziness of their homes and heads rested upon the tenderness of their pillows, preparing for the activities of the day to come. Only the high leveled hormone secreted teenagers and young adults could be seen dotted into the lit-up streets in fancy pieces of dresses engulfing little to nothing of their bodies, as some sauntered while others awaited for cabs to drive them to a new world
Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Chapter 1
The buzzing of his phone against the mangrove polished bedside table just adjacent to his head resulted in an abrupt snap in its direction. Ace reached for his phone after releasing a groan of annoyance as he wondered who could possibly have the effrontery to disturb his morning sleep. "Hello," he said, with a hoarse voice seeping through cracked lips. With his eyes shut, he awaited to hear a voice from the other end other than ruffles from what seemed to be an aluminum foil and then the shattering of a what...a cup? "Hellooooo?" he reiterated. His patience was wearing thin. It was no fun amusing with someone's sleep but the person on the other end found it rather interesting. Ace decided to do what he should've done a long time ago- view the caller ID- when suddenly, the familiarity of a tiny voice got him sober. "Ace?" The ever so shy voice called. "Nate, what's going on?" Nathan, preferably Nate, was the fourteen years old family Benjamin whose shyness was a major call for
Tragedy of the African Cinderella (BlackBook 3) Chapter 2
Nora was all set for the night routine; with her once navy blue now whirling white bucket in hand, she exited home to the public tap. Now, the water she had fetched the previous day had magically vacated the 200-liters rubber barrel she had managed to fill up to the brim, how that happened? She couldn't tell. Yet, something at the back of her mind told her, or rather, pictured out just how the water had been used. With the existence of a malicious stepmother and daughters in her life, she had to expect worst; utilizing water unnecessarily and, or doing things which will result in her using water more than necessary, was their daily aim. The vicinity of the tap came to view, but unlike other days, it looked different: it was dried out of littering humans. The time the clock displayed to her before leaving home was past eight, which was the conventional time to see a crowd decorating the tap's concrete surroundings. Nora took it upon herself to walk clo
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