The Fear in Me

She’s smiling at me from the walls.

I don’t want to suck my thumb because I’m a big girl now. . . I turned 4 in June and mama got me a big cake, she didn’t make it herself because she says she’s a lawyer not a baker. When I grow up I’m want to be a baker so I can bake many cakes and eat them all, I won’t share with Lola. She always yells at me when I wake her up “Go back to sleep Mide or I will make you sleep forever” I don’t know what that means, how can she make anyone sleep forever? I think it’s stupid and I know mama thinks so too because she yells at Lola and tells her not to say things like that.

I wish she’ll go away. I shut my eyes but I can still see her in my head. I opened them again, I tried not to look but my eyes go there.

She’s on the wall above the closet. Why won’t she leave me alone?

Oh! I remove my thumb from my mouth I didn’t know how it went in there, I swear I didn’t. I wipe it on my blanket, I don’t want mama to know; she says sucking your thumb is nasty because of the germs and stuff. I try not to do it but sometimes I get so scared and it goes in my mouth by itself. I turn over to the other side, I can see Lola lying on her bed; her blankets are on the floor.

Now she’s on the wall above Lola’s bed and she’s still smiling.


I don’t know what she wants with me. Is she going to hurt me? Sadie was nice but then she got sick and it made her go away forever. I heard mama say they put her in a coffin. . . a coffin is like a shoe box only bigger, Lola told me that. Then they put the coffin in the ground and covered it with sand but I don’t think they did it right because she is on the wall in my room. My legs begin to shake; I don’t want her to be here. My thumb hurts because my teeth is scratching on it real hard.

She is laughing now but I can’t hear any sound, I see her mouth open wide.

My stomach hurts so bad and I. . . I think my chest is going to break. “Lola?” I call her but she doesn’t wake up. I try to call her again but nothing comes out of my mouth.

Sadie is waving now and I think she is coming closer.

I shut my eyes, my face is wet from my tears, my hand is wet from my drool and my body is wet from. . .

“Mummy, Mummy! Mummy!”

Lights come on. I hear Mummy’s voice. I feel her.

I’m floating.

I smell Daddy. I feel safe.

“Just your imagination sweetie, Just your overactive imagination” Mommy’s voice in my ears.

CHEATING HEART.

One, Two, Three, Four

Or was it In and out?

I couldn’t remember which exercise I was supposed do for shortness of breath.

“Hold on to reality” I could hear Dr. Nata’s voice say “look for something real and focus on it. Anxiety is an illusion, it makes you believe. . .”

Okay, looking for something real and focus on it. Something real, something real... my eyes darted around the room, something real. Unfortunately the only thing real was the very thing causing my anxiety attack - My boyfriend and my best friend on my bed. . . sounded like one of those tongue twisters.

My boyfriend and my best friend on my bed

My best friend and my boyfriend on my bed,

On my bed were my best friend and my boyfriend.


An all B Tongue twisters...Best friend, Boy friend, Bed, Banging. Oh freak I didn’t think of that, my boyfriend is banging my best friend on my bed. Take that Dr. Puss in boots Seuss. Puss in boots...Pussy in booty. Ooops! I quickly covered my mouth. I started to laugh... not The it’s so funny, I can’t stop laughing laugh, it was the I think I’m going insane because I’m laughing like a mad person laugh

I laughed harder when I saw the expressions on their faces go from guilt and shock to confusion. I managed to control myself when she started to slowly roll off the bed, eyes darting around looking for her clothes I suppose. I saw her underwear by my feet and bent to pick it up. I was about to throw it at her when I noticed something

“Hey" I said waving the underwear "I bought this for your birthday” Another B word I thought

“My best friend is banging my boyfriend on my bed with the undies I bought for her on her birthday” I started to snicker and then giggle.

“Sisi...” his voice which for some reason sounded so far away brought me out of my trance. I dropped the underwear on the bed.

Oh my God!

“I have to... I have to get out of here” I said but he quickly jumped out of the bed and blocked my exit.

“Sisi listen”

“Get out of my way!” I screamed “and go put on some fucking clothes”

“Sisi...” it was her “I...we... “

I turned to her

“Don’t you dare!” I lashed out “Don’t you fucking dare or I’m going to rip your tongue out”

She quickly took a step back. He was still standing blocking my exit.

“Get out of my way, Bode”

He opened his mouth to say something and that’s when I grabbed it . . . his penis. Whatever he was going to say quickly became a groan; his eyes filled with pain were bulging out of his head. His painful groans gave me a thrill, so I squeezed and pulled harder, he seemed almost paralyzed to do anything, so I squeezed even harder. He managed to let out a squeal

“Sisi, pleeease”

I looked straight into his eyes and said

“If thy penis causes you to sin, pluck it out” and yanked it some more. His eyes were turning red and tears streaming down his face. He looked ridiculous, almost hunched over, his face covered in sweat and tears. If cheating on me with my best friend didn’t erase all the love I had for me, seeing him like that...did it. I released him and he dropped to the floor. I turned to look at my friend, she was half way dressed.

“I guess that’s that then” I said and stepped over Bode, curbing the urge to kick him in the face and slammed the door over her frantic calling of my name.

"Dr. Seuss didn't write Puss in Boots" I thought, tears streaming down my face, as I drove away from my shattered life.

Murder 101 Pt 1

She crept into the room; she could see him lying in bed, his back to her. She took the gun out from where she had hid it under her blouse, it felt heavy in her hands. Two more steps and she stood at the foot of the bed. Should she wake him or should she give him the gift of dying without knowing what hit him?

I threw my pen down, got up from the desk and began to pace. Okay, killing someone is not as easy as they make it look on TV, I'll tell you that right now.

I walked to the window; the setting sun told me how long I'd been at it. . . .murder I mean. The sun was barely up when I had started the most important chapter of my book "Death Gallows" and 10 hrs later there still wasn't any death. Ughh! Why was I having a difficult time with this?

"Stick a fork in it luv, you're done." I heard my professor’s voice in my head. I don't know which was more annoying - that after 5 yrs, I still hear his berating voice and the cocky British accent it came in or that he . . . I . . . the voice in my head was right. I should just pack it up.

"Yeah you should" it was like he was in the room with me now. "You've committed the gravest offense a writer can"

"And what's that?" I asked stubbornly.

"No! No! This is not how it's done. I'm the teacher here. I ask the questions. Now what was it you did wrong?"

"I. . . I like him" I whispered like I was back in his class again

"Speak up" he ordered.

"I like him" I answered loudly.

"That's right; you've gone and fallen in love with your victim. How can you kill him now? Love that to you. Oh you’ve lost it now" he dismissed.

"I can get it back. I can. Let me try" I can't believe I'm pleading with a voice in my head but I couldn't help it.

"Remember what I said to you when you first walked into my class?"

Remember? I never forget. The way he had looked at me and told me I didn't belong there. "There's jingle writing class next door" and when I had told him I was in the right class, he laughed.

"You? In a Murder-Mystery class? You look like you should be baking cookies or singing nursery rhymes to children”

“I. . . I don’t bake and I don’t like children either” I had stammered.

“This should be interesting. Well then, have you a sit and let’s see what you are capable of.”

And that how it began. . . Me doing everything I could to impress him and him getting less impressed with each attempt. It is why after graduating top of his class, I still felt like a failure, it is why immediately after I signing my 3 book deal with Pendant publishing, I went to the bathroom and puked my brains out and it is why after 5 yrs I can still hear his mocking voice in my head.

"Do us all a favor and make it a romance, I beg you. That way you and your lover can ride into the sunset with harps playing in the background?"

"I don't do romance" I muttered

"Well you might as well do it now, because there's no way you're gonna get murder out of that"

"I can! I can and I will" I screamed

"Prove it! Kill him. . . Kill him" he pushed "You can't, can you? Because you love him" he laughed, his voice dripping with disdain and at that very something snapped in me.

"You know what? I don't have to prove anything to you” I yelled “Not anymore, I am a good writer and I don't need you to tell me that"

"Yes, maybe a Romance writer after which you can move to children’s books. . .

“Shut Up”

“That way, you write about fluffy bunnies?

“Shut up”

“And the fairies riding on a rainbow. . . when do they come in?

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up" I screamed, shutting my eyes and shaking my head.

"Oyin? Baby?"

I opened my eyes to see Akin standing in front of me.

Murder 101 Pt 2

"Are you okay?" he asked me "You were screaming"

"I. . . I. . .” I swallowed “I was testing out a dialogue" I lied.

Akin smiled, I could see him mentally chucking the incident up as one of the many eccentricities of a writer.

"Ah, so was that your character being killed" he asked, drawing me into an embrace.

"Sorta. . . it was also me fighting my inner demons. An exorcism of sorts" my voice muffled into his chest.

"Demons, murders and exorcism. . . Tell me again why I'm with you?"

"I bring excitement into your life" I replied raising my head from his chest to look up at him. "Without me, you'd live a boring Accountant life, where numbers and balance sheet was all the fun you'll have"

"Ah! I remember now" he smiled and slowly leaned in for a kiss. I met him half way.

God! I love him with every fiber of my being. I'm grateful for him; he always managed to pull me from the edge. When we finally broke apart, he grabbed my hand leading me out the door.

"Come on, I'll cook you dinner”

"I haven't finished the. . . “I half protested.

"It can wait, right now you need food. How can commit a murder on an empty stomach?" He joked

"I don't think I want to anymore" the words tumbled out of my mouth.

"Do what? Eat?"

"No. . . murder. I don't think I want to do it" I repeated in a small voice. "It's sick, it's morbid. . . It's insane"

Akin turned to face me. Surprise written on his face

"Sweetie, you aren't really doing it. You are writing about it, it's all fiction"

“I know, I know” Actually I didn’t know anything anymore. This book was bringing something in me. . . something I don’t think I like.

“Oyin, you have been blessed with an imagination to spin tales. . . tales, people like me who see the world only in numbers, can lose ourselves in. Don’t begrudge us of that. . .” he said giving me a lost puppy dog look. I smiled and pushed him out the door

“Oh alright, feed me. Give me strength to maim; torture and kill” I replied in my best Igor voice

“At your service my gentle murderess”

An hour later, I curled up on the loveseat and I watched my husband pour himself a glass of wine. I had declined; I needed a clear head if I wanted to finish up the chapter. He joined me on the chair.

“I called the travel agent. How does Bora Bora sound to you?”

“Like heaven” I replied.

“I thought so. I’ve asked him to make it next Tuesday; will you be done by then?”

“Yes” I wasn’t sure but I couldn’t tell him that. We’d already changed our vacation plans 3 times because of my book.

“Good” He replied and took a sip of his wine. Well, that was that, I guess. Maybe having a deadline will motivate me into completing the chapter.

“Okay, I guess that’s my cue to get back to work” I said getting up and headed to my study.

“Here’s to a lovely killing” he toasted behind me and I laughed without looking back.

Once in the study, I paused. . . as if to make sure HE wasn’t there. Of course, he wouldn’t be he’s in your head stupid. I sat behind my desk and picked up the pen I had abandoned earlier. I read the last words I had written and then crossed it out. No, killing a man while he slept was too cowardly.

I began to write again. . .

She walked into the room; he was standing by the window, his back to her. She took out the gun

I stopped and then changed the gun to knife.

She took out the knife from where she hid it under her blouse. It felt right in her hand. Two more and she stood behind him. Should she call out to him or should she give him the gift of dying without knowing what hit him? Nah, she wanted to see the surprise in his face as the knife pierced through his flesh into his heart.

“Hey” she said softly.

He turned, his mouth widening into a smile which immediately turned into shock and surprise as the knife cut straight into his heart. She pulled it out and plunged again and again and again and again until he was lying on his back.

“Why? He asked as blood bubbled out of his mouth.

“I have to” she replied “I have to” she repeated over and over again.

“Well done!?” A voice cheered

I took a deep breath and stepped away from him. . . from Akin, who now lay on the floor with his shirt soaked in blood. I dropped the knife and wiped the sweat on my face with my bloody hands.

“Told you I could” I panted. “You see, you were wrong. I loved him and I killed him”

“That you did luv, that you did it. You killed your lover! Didn’t think you had it in you but you proved me wrong”

“I am good. Say it . . . says it!” I screamed “Say it! Say it”

Newscaster
Last Night, Writer Oyin Akin-Martins was picked up for the murder of her husband Akin Martins. At this moment, the motive for the crime remains unclear. According to sources close to the police department, Mrs. Martins was found sitting by his body, saying “I am good” over and over again. She’s been transported to County Mental Institution for a psyche evaluation before she appears before the judge for bail hearing.

Anything For Love

“Where were you last night?” Every morning for the past two months I ask the same questions and get the same response...silence. It didn’t matter really, I knew the answer , the reddish brown stain on his rumpled clothes gave him away. He had gone to her.

Tina.

Things changed when she came into our lives. We went from fun loving couple to strangers walking on egg shells. I tried to be understanding and patient but it was hard having to work things...our plans, around Tina. She was so needy, so fragile and Joshua was happy to be her knight in Shinning amour. I couldn’t help the hate I felt...not just for her but for him also. He was supposed to be mine, all mine, didn’t he know that?

I wanted to say something, something that will make him see me again, see the woman he had married.

My mouth opened and the words came out

“I... I made you breakfast”

Hate-filled eyes turn to me. My heart broke.

“Joshua, please, let’s go back to how it was.” I begged clutching his arm in both hands “Please, Forget about her”

“I can’t!” he yelled , pulling away from me.

“You can. I can help you”

“I can’t. . . ” he paused and cleared his throat “I can’t do this anymore. . .”

“No! Don‘t say it” I begged

“I can’t pretend there’s something, when there is nothing” he continued

“ Please stop”

“Every night I go to her, I know it’s not right. . . believe me, I do. I know I should be home with my wife yet I sit there.”

He walked to the bar and grabbed a bottle of scotch, twisted the cap and drank straight from it. He stopped, wiped his mouth and looked at me.

“Do you know why? I can’t stand to be near you. God, I hate you. I hate you for what you did to us. I hate you for making have to go there”

“I did it for us” I sobbed “We were dying. . .our love was dying”

“You killed our daughter” he yelled angrily “You killed Tina. Instead of sleeping upstairs, our daughter lie in grave and I’m forced to sit with her because she shouldn’t be alone. . . .she’s only a baby. She's...only...a...baby!”

The sound of his sobs filled the room.