A MAN’S DESTINY.. EPISODE 3B.. ~ Gistwood

PEMISIRE
I think I better go inside back. This
guy keeps
repeating that word ‘waste’, was it
Lawrence
that sent them? If this classic
documents will
be the one to destroy my family, I
think going
back will be the best. Pemisayo
must not die,
neither dad. What have they been
passing
through there? There’s no way I
can raise an
alarm, I’m not sure if they’ve not
been in some
places, hiding and watching out to
get me.
This is frustrating! I reall.. I really
don’t know!
Money is the root of all evil, if not
for the
wealth, why would they be looking
for the
documents? What’s the….. wait,
was that a
gun…shot gunshot?”
******
“Pemi!” Pemisire screamed as she
shook her
twin sister continuously. She was
shivering,
tears running down her cheeks as
she held on
to her and screamed again. She
had flung the
attaché case to a side and was in
the saddest
mood ever. The white terracotta
tiles had turn
to red already as the blood of her
twin sister
and father had gushed out
immensely. “No!”
She weeped.
She turned around and sighted her
father
again. “Your…id..identity..tity..”
he said and
gave up at once.
She never knew he could still
speak, she held
on to his Ankara dress and
shouted. She
turned to her twin sister too, she
didn’t even
know which to hold, it was still like
a dream.
She was breathing heavily, her
cherished white
skirt had turned red, even her v-
neck was
blood-stained. It really looked like
the end.
*******
SATURDAY MORNING.
Richard rose up from his brass full-
sized bed
and yawned. He shook his head
and yawned
again and stretched along. As he
opened his
eyes fully, they caught the pieces
of the
shattered mirror on the floor. He
couldn’t pack
it up the night before.
He took a glance at his wounded
hand and
raised his head to check what time
it was. It
was six-thirty in the morning. He
scratched
his head snd sank back into the
bed.
As he sat, he stared at the picture
of his sister
that was placed on the Sony
Television which
was at a certain angle, facing the
bed. His
room was not too big but it was
well
decorated for him, by his friends.
He didn’t
have time for decorating the room,
all he did
was to enter into the room to
either sleep or
cry.
The room was wallpapered in
predominantly
christain calligraphies on the
lavender walls.
It had two windows, adjacent to
each other
and with a computer table which
had a
swiveling lamp, placed on it. He
had his shoe
rack at angle, near to his wardrobe
and
checkered curtains. The room also
had a small
gray bookshelf filled with some of
his files and
diaries, a well rugged abode with a
brown
ceiling fan.
“I think this alcohol worked out.”
He said
softly as he laid his hand on his
sister’s
picture and stared at it. Usually, he
wouldn’t
sleep like he did, he did sleep for
few hours
and use the remaining hours of the
night to
cry or question God.
It would be a very nice thing to
keep doing, if
that would scare his worries away.
“Christina
Omolara.” He called her name
softly and
smiled faintly. As he kept staring,
his phone
buzzed.
“Hope there’s no problem again?”
He asked
Stephanie as he picked up the call.
“She’s ill.” Steph replied Richard
almost
instantaneously.
“Again?” He asked as he looked
terrible, down
in tears again. He flung the phone
to the other
side of the bed and knelt on the
floor as
usual. “Anaemia!” He burst out.
He stood on his feet at once and
walked out of
his room, aiming to drive to his
parent’s
house. He looked bellicose
****