I trace my fingers along the delicate strokes of my latest painting, lost in thoughts. Trying to weigh just how cruel people and life can be. Or is it just my parents who are this cruel? My precious daughter, Lyana, lay asleep, unaware of the weight of the situations surrounding her. The cruelty and misfortunes surrounding us. Unaware of the cruelty of this world. She is so innocent and pure. Nobody has the right to mess with the little peace that she has. And that is exactly what these cursed De’Marios are doing. What if the man they are trying to marry me off to does not accept her? Hello, this is Africa, for God's sake! I know how issues like these turn out in the end. Messy! Ugly! Some turn out messier than you can ever imagine—a child out of wedlock being discriminated against by the family, siblings, and even the father who promised to care for her as their own. God, I don’t want that for my precious girl! Hell forbid! I don’t even know the dog that these people are giving me
“I asked you a question, Ayana! Who is that jerk you are calling on the phone? Whom did you trap in your wicked seduction now?” Cynthia demands, cocking her eyes as if she has any right to question me. Ooh, well, ever since I turned out to be the black sheep of the family, that is how she feels. I stopped being her older sister. She dropped all the respect she once had for me. She hated me, and she still hates me so much. One would think I killed someone with the way I am being treated for something as simple as falling in love with the wrong person. Love is blind, you know! Anyone can find themselves in a pit such as mine when it comes to matters of the heart. But only I have the sense to decipher that in this godforsaken family. And did she call me wicked? A wicked seduction? Whom did I ever seduce? “I never seduced anyone in my life—you sick, jealous, bitter bitch? It is not my fault, either, that no man has looked your way. You might be the wicked one, and your open wickedness is
I am looking at this little bitch I have for a sister, trying to gauge the loath she has developed for me in the span of these few years. Trying to gauge just how shameless and rotten she thinks I am to the point of me making out with a man with my daughter sleeping just across us. And my student? Robby is too young for me, for goodness sake! And even though he was older than me, the fact that he is my student would never allow me to have him in the way that this bitch is insinuating. Whether they believe it or not, I have my dignity intact. I would never succumb to such immoral behavior as fooling around like that. So this, whatever she is culminating to paint me black, is total absurdity! Sacred nonsense! Cheap, pathetic lies! The hell with these people and making me look bad! Then again, explaining to them and trying to justify myself is a total waste of time and energy. They have already painted with all the horrible colors in the world. It will not help. “Think whatever you wa
I heaved out a huge breath that I had been holding since the sense of blackmail from my sister and her dear threats slapped me. And I take another one to calm myself. To stabilize my nerves and cool down the steam that is flaring in me.She is all cold, raw, and bold, thinking that she has won. She must be feeling like number one. She hit the right spot. I am sure triumphant and mocking laughter is mounting up in her. She is just waiting for me to bow so that she can rapture up and take her crown of victory.But, can I give her that satisfaction? Do I give a fuck about how her accusations will portray me to my parents? What change will it bring, to start with? They have already painted me black, so whether black as charcoal, representing the most stinking sinner in the world, or white as snow, representing the purest soul in the world, which I know is a wonder that can never happen, how they will see me after this means nothing. Absolutely nothing!“Try again some other time. And nex
“I am still waiting,” I say after a moment because it seems like this gross sister of mine swallowed her tongue or the voice just ran out of her mouth. “Why don’t you marry this De’Leon son instead?”She cocks her head to the side, giving me a barren glare for a moment as she thinks of a convenient lie to puke. “That is because I am too precious to be used as a merger,” she says proudly, as if she and I were too distinct from each other.Or maybe we are. Could that be the only reason? Then again, even if this man is this banged up,? Naah! I am wiser than this. I am sure they would not look at it as a deal if there was nothing fishy. She would be the one marrying this guy if all is as good as they are painting. But it surely isn’t. There is a hidden secret behind this marriage facade that they are hiding from me. That is why I am the pawn. That is why I am the one being sacrificed here.But they won’t succeed. I would love to see how they are going to force me into this. Let them try m
I usher Robby inside the cage, and I sigh in relief when I find my daughter still tucked under the duvet and fast asleep. My heart is filled with hunger—hunger to know what is happening to Robby and what exactly he wants us to talk about. And what he is asking me not to do. I don’t remember sharing any of my plans with him, so of course, I am baffled because of this.Like the norm, he casts a glance at his little buddy but decides not to disrupt her irenic sleep. Their affection is mutual. Anyone can see that. Maybe he feels so much pity for the poor little girl. For us. Just like anyone with a sense of humanity would. That is why he is getting so attached.“Please sit,” I say as I slam on the seat across him in the painting area, or simply, where we normally hold our lessons.But today we are not doing the painting lessons. Today we are not playing with the colors and drawings. Today, my student is not even shedding the aura of a student. No. He is percolating something else so diffe
Robby takes quite a long, unnerving moment just staring at my oblivious self. His silence speaks volumes, and it is getting my demons all riled up. “Speak to me, Robby! What does the world know about me?” I ask in apprehension, my breathing taking a higher pitch, matching the tone of my words.He better slap whatever he has on my face as soon as now before I vent all this combo of emotions that is shaking me to the bone. Every single passing second is echoing with dread and worry about what all this is about.I am a nobody. No one has ever asked about me since I dropped out of college and was thrown into this dungeon. All my friends blocked me from social media or something. They don't care to look for me, and I don't. I see no one on my wall. My social media accounts have nothing on my friends list, and my walls are filled with only my own paintings. The world has been mute, unaware, and unbothered about my existence. Why would anyone rekindle my existence just now? For what godforsa
Bent on shedding light on the kind of man that my family wants to marry me off to, Robby seems to have gone out of his way and gathered enough info about the De’Leon son just to open my eyes.He hands me his phone, which seems too expensive for a student like him. Anyway, I dive into the matter at hand and start scrolling through the screenshots that he has saved from Adam De’Leon’s various social media accounts.And guess what? It seems like I am living in a different world. An underground perhaps, where all this news could have not reached me.Talk of women eaters, and jerkwhores who can’t keep their tails in their pants, and Adam Stone De’Leon is the real beast! The legacy he has left so far stinks! Women are his life! He changes them more than he changes his boxers! Love? That is nowhere close to him. He is merely a sexual type! Pure sex! He does not fuck one woman twice and can’t stay a day without exercising his tool. No strings are attached. If you get attached, you deal with y