Cold Stone

Mum had left without turning back. I had run out chasing the vehicle until my legs gave out. The guards had come out to carry me, a crying mess, into the house. Grandma was at the door waiting patiently, but I could see the fiery in her eyes. "Drop her." She bellowed to the guards and they set me down. I crawled to her, sobbing. "Grandma, she left. Dad was just buried and she left. She did not think about me.""Then why are you wasting your tears?" Grandma grated."It hurts," I cried. "It hurts so much.""It would hurt more if you do not shut up right this instant," Grandma threatened. Everyone was silent except me. I could not help but cry. Why would Mum abandon me? "Get me my whip," Grandma ordered. "I need to teach my granddaughter how to endure pain."My teary eyes rounded like saucers. My heart began to pound. The whip arrived and Grandma slashed it across my back. My screams filled the house. The slashes rained down on me and with it came a new burst of pain. My throat had c

"Grandma, did you do it?" I had questioned her in her bedroom that morning. She was still in bed, sipping special tea always prepared for her ritual every morning. "Yes, I did. And I do not have regrets." She responded, her face and voice devoid of emotion. "W...w...what?" I sputtered. Grandma had taught me how to feel less emotion and not let those emotions show. But now, I felt something strange. Could not place a finger at what it was called, but it was there. Fear?"How could you, Grandma?" I questioned her. "We needed the bakery," she shrugged, sipping from her tea. "How would this get it?" I almost snapped in annoyance, but I knew if I did, I would be punished. "It would leave his family with no choice but to sell the bakery and we would be ready to buy it. You should visit their home today to offer our condolences. Then persuade them into selling the bakery." She instructed me. Even though her act was ruthless, it would get us what we wanted. And the old man was surely

Waking up groggily from my odd sleeping angle with a pounding headache, I took in the state of my room and eyed my laptop on my bed. I remembered using it last night to look up the name 'Jide' on the internet. Found out the dude was strange because he was African. Those ugly barbaric set of people, Grandma had made me believe. Nothing happened last night between us. He gave me a curt glance and sauntered away. Like he was not afraid of me. Like he had risen from the ashes. It unrattled me. I was ready for a challenge of words, like we had at our first meeting but none came. I climbed out of bed and wondered where this banging headache came from. I searched in my bedside drawers for a bottle of Aspirin and swallowed three. I was not sure I could make it to work today. I did not feel too well. Looked like the party had a huge effect on me. I hated those functions. I had to be on my toes all the time, even when I was a kid. I picked my phone and laid back in bed. Sending a quick

"Why are you back so early?" Grandma asked me sternly as I marched into the house. I had closed up work for the day because I was restless as curiosity was eating me raw. "We have got a problem," I said coldly, my fingers clenching on the file in my hand. She inclined her head in askance and sat up from her chair. I sat on the sofa opposite her in the study and leaned on my thighs. "Mr. Spencer is withdrawing his shares," I announced, my senses attuned to her every move. She remained unwavering. "What does he want?" "A reinvestigation on father's death," I replied. She flinched and rearranged her skirt. "Why does he want reopen old wounds? That case was closed three years ago." I sat up straight and gave her a scathing glare. "You see that is the problem. You say the case is closed but the police report says it went cold." I saw her shiver. It was a second reaction but it was there and I had noticed it. Her pupils dilated and she gulped. "That is nonsense," she evaded.

IVORYAfter I had met Mr. Kevin Ernest, the farm manager, and was told the list of things I was to expect here, Zala led me to the hostel. My guards and Cassidy followed me with my suitcases as we went out the 'OFFICE' building and into the brick building on the right. Mr. Kevin insisted that I discard my guards and Cassidy once I was done using their services. Zala led me up a flight of stairs and knocked on a door. A short ebony girl, who was dangerously curvy, opened the door. Her brown eyes smiled at Zala and looked at me in askance. "Hey Zala. What's good?" She asked, her accent strange. Again. Why could I not identify these accents? It was getting on my nerves. Was this what I would go through all the time? Listening to different accents hit me from every direction?"Everything," Zala replied. "You have a new roommate. Mr. Kevin's orders. He says to be nice to her."The girl leaned in the doorway and accessed me, then took notice of the people behind me. Her eyebrows shot up