Be Writertained Chronicles
Few and Deep
A Compilation of Intriguing Flash Fictions
© Copyright 2017- Writertain.com
Contact: [email protected]
Dedicated to Meneski, A.K.A Daniels, the first Writertainer.
Peju Amadi (Repogirl), Audreytimms, Larrysun- the judges who helped in making this competition possible.
250 Words Winners
One Breathe After Another–Kelly Chikezie
There are events in your life you don’t think you can survive, and aren’t sure you want to. Things happen that are so painful, you’d rather die of them than go on living with the agony of surviving. I know what that feels like.
I remember when I lost my younger brother in a car accident. King was a sweet and lovely child. He was just five years old when mom sent me to the market to get some groceries. King was restless that day, he wanted to accompany his big sister to the market. He made a lot of ruckus that he simply had to be allowed to go. I had just gotten my driver’s license, and was eager to show off my driving skills, even if it was just to my baby brother.
I still wish I can turn back the hands of time to stopping at that intersection. I still wonder if, perhaps, I’d gone faster before the red light, I would have avoided the wait and we wouldn’t have been rammed into by the drunk driver. It was just one second in time, and our small family was changed forever.
I remember what it felt like to suffer a heartache, so severe I wanted to die.
Nothing short of death would relieve the pain. But the survival instinct is a miraculous thing. Even when the will to live is lost, the heart goes on beating. One takes a breath and then another. One lives on.
Grandmother Wasn’t Stupid- Qeem. J. Roses
Baba was cursed—it had always manifested, just like the orange on the sun. He had never reaped a harvest after he sowed, and he had got used to it. But grandmother had gone ahead to marry him. She said it was love—the most beautiful one; an ilk that surpassed the tears Christ shed on his cross. She said Baba’s lineage never succeeded, but it failed to bother her. So, on a bad day—an awful make of misfortune, she and Baba had the nuptial knot tied, and he had afterwards, when the shadows had faded with the air, proceeded to plant his seed in her.
Grandmother wasn’t stupid. Her son, Kure, grew old and married my mother. Then, when, like his father: Baba, he had learnt to raise his hands on my mother and had dug up a million ruins out of the soil whenever he tried, grandmother said she became skeptical. But Ohiza, the woman who bore me, was brave. And the times she thought grandmother was unsuspecting, she had gone in with Ladi – the clergyman. But grandmother wasn’t stupid, I say, and a day when she caught Ladi with my mother, she fervently hoped my little, fair mother missed her cycle.
If mother missed her cycle then, I don’t know, but she told me she took some concoction after Kure had spurt his miserable seed in her, and she woke the following morning with a dead foetus. She claimed Grandmother had given her the substance.
It’s a glorious Sunday service in my church. Brother Edward is leading the praise and worship, and I am dancing like a fool. People are staring at me, thinking, “It must be the holy spirit”. It’s a spirit alright, but the spirit is not holy. The Spirit is my infatuation with the beautiful voiced brother Edward. Lordy lord, this brother was one fine son of God! His swag, dressing, stature, walk, his voice plus he was born again too.
I had planned everything in advance. Our wedding was going to be glorious, he would sing me John Legend’s ‘all of you’ at the reception. Our marriage would be enviable. He would open doors for me, bring me breakfast in bed and sing lullaby to me till I sleep. And our children, the girls, would be pretty like me, and the boys, strong and sturdy like their pappy! I couldn’t wait.
We leave the church gates after service, and I quietly follow Brother Edward, intent on discussing our future. He isn’t paying attention because he is answering a phone call,
“…………abeg jor, that woman no get shishi, I do her two times, na only 60k I see collect for her hand…… forget her mata jare, I don see one correct mama for my church last week, I dey go her place now….”
Waris this one saying?, I wonder. I walk past him, and turn to see the face well. Chai, it was my born again Brother Edward, a gigolo! Aiye ti pari!
The Boy in Blue-Aduragbemi Steve
The priest asked if I wanted to give a speech. I said, ‘no’. What was I supposed to say at my son’s funeral? I cradled my wife, while she wept freely. She’d become so pale recently, and the best I could offer her was a shoulder to cry on.
“Sir?” A kid of about Andy’s age rose, and approached the priest. I never knew Andy had a friend.
“I have a speech.”, he announced and began:
“The first time I met Andy, he was on a denim and blue shirt. Blue was his favourite colour. He mostly sat isolated and wouldn’t talk to anyone. To him, we were enemies, opponents that he must defeat in academics. He spent extra hours in library on Fridays mostly”.
“I tried to see if I could make him loosen up a little, but he rebuffed me from the onset. He made it clear that he wanted to be alone, but the time he spent in the library crying says otherwise”.
“Six days ago, after we received our report cards, he walked up to me and said, ‘Tiga, if I take this result home, he would kill me.’ I frowned. He was the second best student. How do you get killed for that? He rose without another word and chose to end his own life rather than allow anyone else. Adieu Andy, our friend.”
Tiga ran off into his mother’s open arms, while the others turned their attention to me. I killed the boy in blue.
Laila waited in the mud building, a little restless. Hassan was late, she needed to be at Sokoto park soon, and this was her final test before meeting the Sheik. Why was he late? She heard footsteps approaching and quickly moved away from the light.
‘Laila!’ A male voice called out to her.
‘Hassan! ‘ She stepped out. He was with another man. ‘What took you so long? ‘ She queried.
‘I’m sorry, there was a change of plan’.
‘Laila Nazilah Amin’, the other man called. ‘I am Sheik Omar’.
‘Your lordship!’ Laila trembled and went on her knees.
‘Like Hassan said, there’s been change of plans, you are to accomplish your mission in the bus’.
‘But my lord, the bus is much smaller than the Lagos bridge’.
‘ I know, Amin, but there are three senior NSS agents in that bus. We will have this country in our grip much faster with their deaths ‘.
‘I will not fail my lord’. She collected the bag from Hassan. ‘See you in Paradise, Hassan’.
‘Allah be with you Laila’. Then, she left.
‘I’d say a job well-done to us, Agent Hassan”
Steve grinned and removed his fake beard. “ The last of the Malibu cell,you’re sure all the terrorists will be in that bus?”
‘Every single one of them’, Hassan affirmed and spat on the ground.
‘See you in Paradise my foot! Islam teaches peace, Laila and her people will rot in hell Insha Allah! ‘
Sexy Cow Urine- Chippapi
Chinedu bent low and rained down the thick whitish liquid from his mouth. He raised his head, and his eyes was a deep shade of red. At the corner, Kunle stood, having the laugh of his life at his Igbo friend, vomiting the hell out of his life.
He thought about it again. He had stood there, staring at her beautiful deep red colored lips and had kept falling in love with them over and over again. That particular day, it was obvious that he was running late for their CDS, but he couldn’t help admiring the luscious lady and her red lips, clad in a pink hijab.
“If you kiss me first, I will tell you the secret of my red lips,” she had insisted. He had no problem with kissing those lips. He brushed his sweaty palms against his NYSC wear, and checked the time on his wrist watch and it was 9:15 am. He had 15 more minutes to be done with the kiss, and get to his station. He brought her closer, and kissed her deeply, with both of them shutting their eyes while at it. He thought her lips tasted a little bit salty.
“So tell me, what did you rub on it?” he asked after pulling away. “Salt?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Cow urine. 9 in the morning and 9 at night,” she replied casually.
He bent down again and went into another vomiting bout.
Returning To Hell-Meneski
Unexplainable was the heat emanating from this place. The torment ravaged my soul. The pain was out of this world.
Was I even in the world? Or somewhere I don’t want to believe I occupy a space in.
My God! This is hell, where souls were in constant communion with torture. I could hear them scream in different tongues as I screamed along.
Then, i felt a different pain in my whole body, pain greater than the initial pain, I felt on arrival. It was the arrival of Lucifer that sent such spasm of pain through hell realm.
“I welcome you to hell”, he said to me.” This is your new realm, where I shall feed from on soul”.
Every word he pronounced, stung my soul. The torment was just unbearable.
“My God, I can’t be here, This is not where I belong”, I said as I screamed and rolled on the hot ground of burning coals, nowhere seemed accommodating.
“Yes, you belong here in hell, where the torment you receive is little, compared to the awaiting pains my demons will offer you. I believe you enjoyed the sex with your landlord’s wife? Because it was your last.”
Just then, I woke up, only to behold the sight of my landlord’s wife burnt body.
My God! My room was on fire, and I was terribly burnt too.
Unable to escape, I closed my eyes as a tear-drop escaped from it. I sighed because I knew my destination.
Strange Noise- Frankenstein
I jerked up to the sound of faint mutterings. Power supply was out, and outside, a raging wind howled eerily in a moonless night. I was alarmed when the mutterings returned once more with a guttural and non-human pulse. The dreadful sound was coming from the wall behind me.
A cold fear traveled down my spine when I suddenly realized my wife, Susan, was not in the bed with me. We were in her village for her grandmother’s burial, and the room behind ours was where Anita her best friend was lodging.
What the heck was going on? I thought as I walked quietly to the bathroom and knocked.
“Susie?” I whispered, but there was no reply.
So stealthy, I unlocked the door of our room, and slipped out with trepidation. I turned towards Anita’s room, and found the door slightly open. My heart was thumping like a bass drum, when I tiptoed to the door, and peeped through it. What I saw shocked me to the marrow.
It was dark inside, but I could make out a figure lying face up, hands suspended in the air and stretched towards the feet.
Then, as I rushed in, power was restored.
Right there, lying on the floor with her eyes shut was Anita. She wasn’t having any supernatural encounter. Rather, she was performing a work-out exercise, and the mutterings were her grunts blended with a song playing on her phone.
Her eyes slid open and found mine. She was completely naked.
The Dark Hole- Adekusibe Ogunmokun
A handwritten draft my boss wanted me to type, urgently, laid on my document-congested desk.
I wanted to briefly check a famous online platform with my laptop before typing his document. This website had always slipped into my tight schedules; the type of ritual the creator did to endear me must be potent.
I scrolled through the front page of the site. The topics alone were enough to make a man bury his meal, to say the least of the diverse comments that followed them.
I saw a strange topic: man goes naked to protest; goat ate his only piece of slice bread. This country is already in disarray like the top of my desk- hungry men are turning insane. I wished things would change positively. Urgently, it should change, else suicide rate would scale rapidly. I clicked to enjoy the comical comments that do not disappoint.
Just look at this topic staring at me: I need your prayerness, am sick.
The comments poured and I was left in guffaw. One got me hard: guy, I pray for your healingness o.
Always, there would be something to laugh about. A minute had turned ten while I was still online, the draft on table, untouched. I was still laughing when the door busted open, I prostrated on the hard ground. I still cherished my job, and I don’t want to be the next suicidal victim. My boss was always strict, when it came to selecting days to be nice. Thankfully, today was one of them.
Superstition- Debbie Tiyan
Mom had always had the strangest ideas. “Never sit so close to the television or you’d get sucked in. Don’t sleep with your arms or legs crossed else you’d be paralyzed in the dream. Never whistle at night, you’ll never know what you’re calling forth”.
Although they all sounded silly to me and I never really paid attention to any of them, one, however, prickled my curiosity: “never stare at the mirror in the dark after midnight.”
So, one night whilst everyone else slept, I crept into guest room and sat in front of the mirror, which was placed opposite the door. I gazed for 5, 10…15 minutes. Nothing. I remembered night was synonymous to darkness, and I obviously should have turned off the light-switch. I did that, and waited an extra 2 minutes. Still nothing.
Befooled, I made to get up, and that was when I vaguely saw it. White faced, bulgy eyed and dressed in flowing white.
I screamed, and it screamed back.
I thought I was going to die until it said dismissively angry, “Timi are you stupid? You scared the living daylights out of me. What are you doing here?” My mother turned on the light, “Please get out, I want to sleep…my room is too hot.”
I couldn’t say a word, I was yet to recover so I gestured to her face.
“It’s moju powder, how else do you think I maintain such flawless skin?”
I’ll Marry Only One I choose- Gmike
I was nothing in this terrible world without the anger in me. It was my blood, breath and life. If not, many would have ridden me and seen me as something they can dust off the shelve like an old, useless, worn newspaper.
I shouted back at my Father as I stormed out of his wretched house. He has no right over my life.
‘ Get back here’, he shouted after me.
But I didn’t return to the house. It was a fruitless effort, trying to make it work with my imposing family. I have weighed all of their arguments, and I couldn’t just accept the fact that I’m getting married to the man they love. They want me to marry Tunde, the son of my father’s rich friend. There was no way I would ever agree to do that. This is the 21st century, for crying out loud.
I knew a day like this would come. I was expecting this ridiculous act. My father was never contented with anything, and my mother would never disagree. The girl-child, they said, should rest in the full oars of her father’s authority, then, later, her husband’s. But, I won’t be one of such.
I called Richard’s phone-line, and he met me in front of his house. We were poor but comfortable. I followed him to his one room, and we sat down to drink garri with the fried fish I bought on my way. Tomorrow, we would find good jobs.
Ghost and Dreams- Temitope Daramola
It sat at the edge of its grave like some of the others. It was raining in town, but under the canopy of the trees in the yard, it was just a sizzle.
Everywhere was silent, and it was brooding like the others, no hurried movements. There was nothing else to do than to spend and waste time. It would spend an eternity doing that, like the others. But it wouldn’t be like the case of the man who embezzled Government money, and got jailed for a score of years, but he died in its first few years, behind bars. When it died suddenly, the Government took its corpse and deposited it at the old yard. They put a big chain and padlock on its grave, and it will only be unlocked when the scores of years it earned has been exhausted. Its soul had been damned to remain in Hades until that lock is unlocked. Hell! It cannot even come out to catch its breath like the others.
It shook its head. It would not allow anybody convict it, even in death. Death is freedom, why so many of its kind commits suicide. Or Harakiri? Whatchamacallit.
When it was alive, it doesn’t even wear watches because it made it feel restrained like manacles. Even the minute sound from the tiniest timepiece irritated it like it was a reminder, for the time it had spent living. It wondered why it was dead.
It was a dream. Yes, indeed.
The Return Jazmiynne
He was lying!
Really, who announces his own death with a cheesy smile on his face? And to think that some minutes ago, their bodies had blended in perfect unison to the echoes of sweet pleasure.
As the night breeze whistled blowing its coldness into the small room, Jane slowly sat up puling the duvet with her. She could barely tell if the goose pimples on her skin were due to the night’s coldness or as a result of the four words reverberating her being.
“Jane, I am dying!”
Jane observed the man, who laid beside her. Moonlight rays filtering into the room made his face seemed silver-illuminated. Even in sleep, his lips still retained their magnetic attraction. Slightly upturned and with a small parting, he almost looked like he was smiling. She shuddered – he had smiled as he said the damning words. Now as she looked at him intently, his skin looked pale and tiny rashes all over his face stared at her mockingly – Lexis was truly sick.
Suddenly, she felt a surge of annoyance rush through her. He had spent his healthy years in the arms of another; not just any other woman, but her twin sister. How dare he return to her almost dying? No, death was too easy an escape. Lexis would have to be alive to realize the folly of deserting her for her gold-digging twin.
And in that instant, Jane made the decision that would change everything.
“You will have to live Lexis!”
At The Gate Of Hell- Obadein Ayodele
He was in tremendous pain, and wished he was anywhere other than where he was right now. Remembering a joke Malato, his friend, had once shared,” if soldier beat you, you go know say police is your friend”, he had laughed back, then but it wasn’t funny right now.
Indeed, he was in hell, and the heartless tormentor in person of the uniformed soldier man was towering over him. He was as tall as an iroko tree, broad chested, dark and the menacing look he gave could only be rivaled by the devil himself.
Every plea Tunde made to him only fueled the anger of the demon before him, and he only laughed when Tunde was crying or groaning in pains. He had forgot to bring his helmet from home, and had attempted to speed off when the soldier asked him to stop. In his rush, he splashed muddy water on the soldier.
“I say make I shut up now and frog jump well well or I go wipe you koboko”, the soldier’s voice thundered as he raised his whip to give him a lash of it. Tunde wailed again.
After what seemed like eternity to Tunde, he released him. Tired, weak and staggering after his vociferous tussle with the devil, he mounted his bike.
Maddened with anger, he shouted at the soldier “thunder fire you”. And kick started his bike to zoom off, but alas! The bike did not start. Scared as hell, he fainted.
RAINY NIGHT- ToluLolu
At twilight, the sky was as clear as crystal without any sign of rain. Suddenly, a frightening, ear-deafening thunder rumbled. At that point, one would think it was an earthquake. In split seconds, it began raining heavily, without warning, not even the forming of clouds in the sky.
As she prepared dinner, she wondered why her husband was not yet back. The frightening thunder had made her baby shriek. After calming her down, she tried calling her husband to no avail.
She could not help but marvel at the awesomeness and unpredictability of nature. Her worries about her husband intensified as the rain continued lashing. Her husband’s phone was still unreachable and she was getting scared per time.
She decided to look around the house, and re-check all the windows, her baby was still playing in her walker oblivious of the situation. On stepping her feet into the living room, she slipped and fell, water was all over the floor. It was increasing rapidly each passing moment. She tried to stand up to no avail because she strained her knee coupled on the slippery floor.
The loud sound of crumbling bricks jolted her back from her shock. She watched helplessly as her house collapsed before her very eyes.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed “My baby!”
Just then, the remaining of the building came crumbling down. That was the end, she thought. She closed her eyes and waited for her own death, what a RAINY NIGHT!
‘‘Chioma, you’re a survivor’‘ Those were the final words of my psychologist, they reverberated in my ears as I sat still, in tears.
It’s been three years since we separated. Emeka used to be my Mr. Perfect, until ten years after we said ‘‘I do’‘
He came home that day, and I walked to him with open arms, but instead of a hug, he slapped me.
‘‘Give me male children, useless woman’‘ he rasped and stormed off.
I cried bitterly that night. Was it my fault that the three times I went into the delivery room, I came out with two bundles of joy each? Was it my fault that they were all females?
I endured the beatings for five years until the day he brought home a heavily pregnant woman and kicked my kids and I out. Unfortunately, I was a house-wife with no savings, that was when I truly understood the meaning of suffering. I cried and prayed until God sent a good Samaritan my way.
A tap on my shoulder jerked me back to present ‘‘Let’s go’‘ my good Samaritan-cum-best friend whispered.
I nodded and followed her, with a determination to help women in similar situation as mine, to convince them that they don’t have to walk about with scars on their faces like me, before they take a bow and say goodbye.
I’ve been stabbed, had my jaw broken and brutalized. I can’t believe I survived but I did, now I know that there’s light at the end of the tunnel, there’s hope and there’s freedom.
For The Love Of Freedom-Mclove
In spite of the luxuries in his father’s kingdom, Prince Ademola left for a particular village far away from home, alone without his father’s consent.
He had heard about the sufferings and hardships in this village he moved to, and decided to look for a way to help them out.
Adapting to a new environment was a bit challenging to him. He started working as a fisherman, and started relating with the people of the village. Prince Ademola was known to be a gentle fellow. Not too long after, he started making friend with the son of the Chief priest of the village. The Chief priest is known in the village as the orchestrator of evil.
Then came a particular day when the priest was meant to sacrifice his only son to the gods. The whole village gathered to watch the dastardly act being carried out. The priest’s son was already tied to the tree with the executioner ready to behead him.
Suddenly, the prince jumped forward willing to give his life in exchange for the priest’s son. In no time, the substitution was made and alas, the Prince was beheaded.
Little did the Chief priest and others know that what happened was an abomination; a royal blood which must not be shed had been shed and this neutralized, and made him impotent.
Alas, it was a perfect and deliberate plan to legally release those under the bondage of the gods. What a hero!
MISTAKES – Perrypablo
It was love at first sight, we met at country club in London. She was such a fine British woman. We got engaged in two months, and began finalizing plans to be married in Nigeria. I got back home with her, and my family rejected her. I thought they were shortsighted. Who rejects a person just because of race? I didn’t listen to them. We eventually got married in a Nigerian court, my first mistake.
On our wedding day I got her a cat to compensate for my family’s absence. I can’t even remember the god-forsaken magazine I read about the affinity between British women and cats. I still remember how I looked forward to our wedding night to eat from her honeypot. How she convinced me to remain celibate till then I can’t fathom. It was probably love. That night, though she left with a fellow British girl saying, “if you want this union to last, I have to go. It’s the British way”. I let her go, my second mistake. I let her threaten me.
On our second night, she wanted the cat she christened with us in our bed. How could I, a Nigerian man, share my night of bliss with a cat. Never!
“Sam’s not just a cat he’s my baby, come on love. If daddy doesn’t want, we’ll go to the guest room.”
Na so I allow cat tiff my wife”
I became outnumbered in my own home. Yet help unexpectedly came. The good Nigerian cat ran away, after its own kind, and never came back. My wife blamed me“I can’t live in the same house with a man who can’t treat a cat decently.”
She followed her baby’s example and moved out. It lasted only 25 days. I’ll be mad if I don’t file for divorce. My greatest mistake though is that “I still never got to fuck her”.
Stage 2: Drabble(100 Words) Competition
THE WAGES OF SIN- Kelly Chikezie
The bullet hit him straight on the forehead. He blinked, staggered and fell backward.
It was the longest step he ever took. For one thing, it lasted him the rest of his life.
Steve arose in a world of darkness, icy confusion pouring through his mind. But all he could think of at the moment was the hooded figure standing before him.
“I never thought it would end this way. I only wanted my due. He had served me well alive, killing and destroying lives. Everyone would be glad to see him die, except me”.
CONGRATULATIONS. YOU’VE GOT IT.
Bush Baby- Temitope Daramola
He got into the woods, with his dog at his heels, and saw a monkey sitting quietly on a tree trunk. He shot it. BANG!!! The dog ran to finish it off, but the, now, mad monkey grabbed its neck, bit its throat, and ripped out the esophagus. The dog collapsed. The hunter moved closer and saw that the monkey was pregnant, and reproducing when he shot at it. Taboo! The baby was almost out, but a pellet had penetrated its forehead. He shot the monkey dead.
At home, his wife delivered a stillbirth with a hole in the head.
FIRST KISS- Debbie Tiyan
She had longed to feel his lips on hers the minute she laid eyes on him, and she knew he wanted the same.
They had known virtually, for a year, but the attraction kicked-in immediately they sighted one another. He would be her first, she was glad she waited. She would be his tenth, she didn’t know that, though wouldn’t have minded, if she did.
They were standing so close, eyes staring intently into each other’s, then she felt the tickle on her lips, just as he stepped back.
Confused, she reached for her lips, chasing away the fly that had settled there.
Murder She Wrote- Chipappi
She never told him why she went to jail. Jennifer probably thought it never mattered to him, she was wrong and he left her for Mary.
She had chatted him up on the night of their honeymoon and told him the reason why. The answer she gave screamed out to him, his eyes bulged when he read the message.
Then he heard a sound of gunshot downstairs. He rushed out and from the stairs he saw Mary on the floor, in her pool of blood, Jennifer stood over her. She raised the gun at him.
“Murder” was what she wrote.
Mma watched the dibia place his blade on her friend’s neck.
“Ani, accept this sacrifice,” he prayed.
She wanted to shut her eyes at the horror, but knew her father was watching and judging.
It was the tradition for her to take care of Okwadike until the time came to prove her devotion to the deity.
Okwadike’s death-cry jolted her back from her reverie and tore her heart to pieces.
As the earth greedily lapped his blood, memories washed over her.
She’d never get to watch him chase her playmates around the ukwa tree.
Her pet goat was gone.
A cool morning is always a great time for a jog. Jogging down the street, I saw a reflection of myself, dumbfounded, but there wasn’t any mirror.