SINGLE ACT BY PECULIAR MEDINUS

Whats Wrong With Shan?

This entry I’m making in my diary is the very last before I breathe my last. I’ll gulp the entire contents of this bottle of poison and it won’t be long before death beckons. Gladly I’ll answer his eternal summon. I don’t deserve to live. Who deserves to live that has killed another? My name is Shan. I’m eighteen. Yesterday, on St. Paddy’s day I killed my parents.

I have – no, had – the world’s most amazing parents. Dad was a minister; he was a loving husband and father. Mom was a dotting wife and my best friend. She was Irish while dad was black, which makes me black as well. My Parents were a couple made for each other.

As a preachers kid, I’d to be a quintessence of Jesus, my body the Temple of the Holy Spirit. I was expected to be a shining light for others to follow. I heard countless sermons from my parents about the virtue of purity until my ears buzzed. I wanted to make my body Gods dwelling and not to indulge willful transgressions – I tried, God knows I did. But it wasn’t easy with my clique of friends. They called me names like Virgin girl, Blessed Virgin Mary and such like. This entire name calling got me put on the spot. I couldn’t bear being the odd one and every day, an itch grew between my legs.

The sermons intensified as the itch between my legs yearned to be mitigated; that itch which got me craving for male attention. I started dressing to impress. Make up, jeans and skimpy things got me the desired attention from boys but the undesired attention from my parents. It was a relief when eventually I graduated from secondary school and moved on to the university and to freedom.

My parents were frantic when I insisted on staying in a rented apartment, off the university campus. They wanted me to stay on campus. They didn’t suggest I should stay at home and go to school from there because home was a long way from the university. The mooting over where I’d stay ceased when I dropped my wining ace. I asked to have Bola stay with me. Bola is two years older than I am. She too is a preacher’s kid. Unlike me, her faith is unshaken. Both her parents are ministers and friends of the family. My parents liked my suggestion. They reckoned Bola would act as a chaperon to me. They spoke with her parents and soon we’d a one room self contain to ourselves somewhere close to the university campus.

Few weeks into my second semester at the Hilltop University Mkar, the itch between my legs grew worse. Someone had to save me. I dressed like a tart and hoped in God’s name that some boy will just as soon take the stinking cloak of virginity off me, it was so embarrassing.

I met Lan for the first time, three weeks, on a bus on my way from school. He sat right behind me. I kept turning now and again to glimpse his handsome face. God he was so handsome. His image burned in my head, kept popping up until I grew sick with longing. I wished to see him one more time at least. The feeling was so strong sometimes I felt like I would die if I didn’t see him again. Then exactly one week ago there was a knock on the door of our apartment. I was trying to sleep and almost didn’t answer the door. I swooned with joy when I got the door; Lan was standing right before me. He was asking for directions to a friend’s house. His friend happened to be someone in the neighborhood. I knew him quite well, I knew all the guys in the neighborhood.

Lan’s friend wasn’t home when we got to his apartment.  I’d volunteered to walk him there, like he wouldn’t have been able to get there all by himself. I invited Lan for a drink at my place afterwards. The afternoon was sweltering hot; no one would’ve refused a drink on such a sunny day. Before he left my place fifteen minutes later, I was able to coax him into taking me on a date during the weekend; step one in my plan of getting laid.

Two days before my supposed date with Lan yesterday, I kept rummaging my swanky wardrobe, fishing for something to wear on the date. I tried on innumerable dresses but couldn’t decide on which to wear yet. The floral sequined dress was too loud, the cream one too plain, the lavender colored frock too tight around the hips and bodice, and it would’ve made me uncomfortable even before we were half way through the meal. So the lovely frock was kept aside too, like many others before it. Eventually, I picked a dress. It wasn’t as if the dress was anymore than the others I’d kept aside. But it was a pretty dress all the same, pastel green and slinky but not tight like the lavender one. I chose it more because of its color – my date with Lan coincided with St. Paddy’s day, which was an all green affair. The pastel green dress flattered my comely figure as well. In the end, I was happy with my pick.

I was taking my bath when Lan knocked on the door of our apartment. Bola answered the door and let him in. not long after Lan settled in one of the arm chairs in our room had Bola picked her books, excused herself and was off to read in school – which I knew was a pretext for fleeing Lan, whose presence she could scarcely abide – but not before slotting in a musical video of Cece Winans and announcing from the bathroom door that I’d a visitor. Bola didn’t approve of my date with Lan. It was expected. Wasn’t she my chaperon?

I emerged from the bathroom door scenting of bath salts and wrapped in a towel that stopped short of my thighs but swathed my bosom and nether region. As Lan beheld me from the door way of the bathroom, instantly, I noticed he was aflame with desire. He stood from the chair as I maneuvered my way towards him suggestively with the gait of a cat. We locked ourselves in a bear hug. He was hard; I sensed his need but my nips were hard turgid buds too. They were aching and flaring and they burned holes on his chest.

He stood me away from him, but his hands were still on my hips. Our eyes connected and heat flickered in their depths.

‘I was expecting you’d be ready by now?’ he said.

‘I’ll be ready in a jiffy. But that is if you can take your hands off me.’

‘And if I can’t?’

‘We’ll end up sending the whole day here and that’s not what you want.’

‘On the contrary, ‘twill be heaps of fun, you know.’ Lan winked at me but I rather I shot him a noxious dose of that my I-dislike-it-look.

‘Okay,’ he began to laugh. His hands left my hips. ‘That’s not what I want, Shan. Dress up, I’ll be waiting in the car outside.’ Lan began for the door.

‘That won’t be necessary except you’re a peeping Tom.’

A smile creased Lans face, as he turned to face me. ‘No I’m not. But I’m not quite sure about keeping my eyes from wandering.’

‘Your eyes certainly can’t wonder as far as the bathroom can they?’

‘Of course not, but that’s if I remain seated in the chair.’

‘Settled.’ I playfully shoved Lan back into an arm chair. ‘You’ll remain seated right here, okay?’ Lan nodded like a frightened child and I couldn’t help but smile at him.

I moved over to a make shift dresser in a corner of the room with Lan’s gaze in tow. I felt Lan’s eyes all over me as I applied cream to my skin and make up to my face.

From the ward robe, I took the dress I’d carefully chosen for the date, a camisole and underpants and headed for the bathroom. ‘Don’t peep,’ I warned.

‘No time for such silly games,’ he returned. But I felt his eyes trailing my derrière. He couldn’t tear them of the relief of my bare booty against the wet towel, right?

When I emerged from the bathroom again, I was all gussied up save for my bare feet. From the make shift dresser, I saw how the pastel green dress perfectly outlined my pert figure. In Lan’s eyes, I could see he longed to explore and know every delicate curve of my body.

‘Lan,’ I called from the dresser, where I was now doing my dark lustrous hair into a French plait.

‘Shan?’ Lan was making a show of being engrossed in the musical video, but I know his eyes were feasting on my back, down to the small of it, which the undone zipper bared or was yet to conceal.

‘Can you help me do up my Zipper?’

‘Sure.’ He rushed to the task like a dog would rush for a bone thrown at it. ‘All done,’ he said when he’d done up the zipper. His eyes caught the reflection of mine in the mirror. There were flames in them, what I realized was an inarticulate echo of his desire to take me that very moment. He wanted me as badly as I did want him. My tits began to swell again. In a second, my nips became tight turgid peaks. As our gazed lingered, I was robbed of rationality. That moment, nothing mattered anymore except the repressed woman within begging to be unleashed.

Instinctively, I turned around to face Lan. I tensed when without warning, he took my face in his hands and crushed my lips with his, generating a tingling sensation. I’d ached for his kiss the very moment I set eyes on him, now that he’d kissed me, I craved for even more. I wanted a dipper kiss, wanted to drink in the sweetness of him.

Consumed by passion, I moved to stand on tip toes in order to get more of him. I arched my back and sank the fingers of my right hand into his hair, my left hand wrapped around his back, to keep him ever so close.

We kissed with fervor. As the kissed deepened, I became breathless so I broke the kiss to catch a breadth. My phone began to ring that moment; it was my mom. She was probably calling to tell me about all the St. Paddy’s day dishes she’d prepared and to berate me for refusing to spend the day at home – which was the family tradition – or perhaps to make certain I was wearing the customary green. I was about to make for my phone when Lan claimed my lips again. This time, we didn’t kiss with so much urgency but still passionately. When we broke our kiss again, Lan rushed and secured the lock on the door. My phone began to ring again but it was like from a distance.

With each other’s help, we both found ourselves in our birthday suits. But we weren’t discomfited in the least as mutually, our eyes raked our naked bodies. It felt so natural like it did many thousand years ago in the Garden of Eden. Then hesitation flashed through my mind. But it was gone quickly as it came when Lan gathered me in his arms, laid me on the bed and began to do magic to the rest of my body.

He popped my cherry – Lan did. Our love making was unhurried and sweet, climbing a higher pitch with every stroke. Then we got to the pick of Mt. Everest together. We remained in each other, savoring the pleasure of our climax until few minutes after the heated love session, when sanity returned. Only then did I realize I’d done the craziest thing. Oh! I wept.

But I wept even more when Lan told me he is a seminarian at St. Thomas Aquinas Major Seminary Jos. That moment, I hated him like I’d hated no other. I shouted him down when he was trying to explain whatever I wasn’t about to hear then kicked him out of the apartment. I shut me in and cried bitterly. I was devastated; my heart felt like it had been ripped apart.

Two hours later and I didn’t feel any better. My nether region hurt badly, but my head hurt even worse.  Eventually I summoned the strength to pick my phone and return Mom’s Call. There was a text message from her. She and Dad were on their way to school. They’d decided to come and celebrate St. Paddy’s day with me in school, since it was bothersome for me to go home to them. Mom said she’d prepared special dishes I’d kill to have. But she lied. At the moment I didn’t feel like seeing anyone or eating anything. I was so sad I just wanted to die.

My parents never showed up yesterday. It was 07:15 and Bola was tired of asking questions I didn’t have answers to. I was anxious about my parents. There was a knock on the door. It was a police officer. He’d news about my parents. They met their end in a ghastly auto crash on the Makurdi-Gboko expressway. God! I killed them.

*             *             *

Shan raises the bottle of poison to her lips; the stench causes her to retch. There is a loud bang on the door. Shan starts, then holds the bottle of poison away from her lips and looks at the door suspiciously.  Bola just left for lectures, it couldn’t be her. It was Lan.

‘Shan,’ Lan calls out. ‘I know you’re inside. I met Biola on her way to school. I’m sorry about yesterday. I’m leaving the seminary. I love you.’

The bottle of poison drops to the floor. The lock clicks, the door opens and Shan flings herself into Lan’s waiting arms. Tears began to run down her checks in rivulets. What’s wrong with Shan?


2 thoughts on “Whats Wrong With Shan?” by Pever X (@peverx)

  1. Profile photo of yinkus
    yinkus (@yinkus101): Junior Writer - 3845 pts

    wow I love it, so interesting

  2. Profile photo of Bubbllinna
    Bubbllinna (@sibbylwhyte): Head Wordsmith - 123553 pts

    Lovely story. Like the way you told it too. Though it’s funny how one night of sex translated to love and him leaving the seminary – not plausible enough for me.
    There are lots of wrong spellings that you would see with a reread.
    Well done, Pever. $ß.

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