CHAPTER ONE
CLOUD 9
Peace glanced at the clock nailed to the wall. It was exactly 11:00 p.m. She had been sitting on the soft couch for two hours, waiting for her husband to return from work. The silence in the room was deafening, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock and her deep breaths.
Suddenly, the door opened slowly.
Melvin stepped inside, glanced at her, and then looked away, walking straight toward the bedroom without a word. Peace stood up and followed him immediately.
Just as he reached the stairs, she moved in front of him and blocked his path.
"You're late home again," she said, her voice calm but firm.
"Sorry, dear. Can you please step aside? I need to get to the room and take a shower," Melvin replied, barely making eye contact.
He moved to go past her, but she stepped closer, standing at the foot of the stairs with her hands on her hips.
"Melvin, it's been months now. You always come back late. You don't care about me anymore. Honestly, you're not the man I married six years ago. I miss the man who cared, who loved me, Melvin, I..."
Her voice broke. She sat down on the stairs as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Melvin used to be moved by those tears.
He once loved wiping them away from her soft cheeks, doing everything he could to see her smile. But now, it was as if those emotions had faded into oblivion.
"Please, get out of the way. I need to go to my room!" he snapped, trying to push past her, but she steadied herself and rose to her feet again.
"Hell no!" she said, shaking her head. "You're going nowhere."
"Really?" he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Yes. We need to talk," she insisted. She stepped closer, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. "You need to hear me out."
"There's nothing to talk about until you give me a child," he retorted harshly.
"Six years, Peace! Six years is not six days, six weeks, or six months! Am I even welcome in this house anymore?"
With a bitter tone, he removed her hand from his shoulder, turned around, and made his way to the exit door.
"Melvin, come back! Where are you going at this time of the night? You've changed so much. You come home late, you don't touch me anymore, and neither do you eat my food. You don't let me do your laundry anymore. I'm sure you have another woman outside, but for once, please listen to me!"
But her words were drowned by the sound of the car engine as Melvin started the vehicle and drove off into the night. Back inside, Peace broke down completely.
"Just because of a child?" she sobbed. "You and I know it's nobody's fault... God, why?"
Peace was on a wooden swing in a quiet garden, giggling as Melvin gently pushed her from behind. Whatever he was whispering made her laugh even more. The breeze played with her hair, and the sky seemed to smile down at them.
He stopped the swing and moved to stand in front of her. Crouching slightly, he took her hands in his and softly stroked her cheeks before placing a tender kiss on them.
Sweat glistened on her skin.
Peace stood up slowly, and Melvin rose with her, brushing aside a few strands of hair from her face.
"You drive me crazy, my woman," he whispered.
Then he gazed into her blue eyes, eyes he once called "oceans of passion." His finger traced the curve of her lips gently, drawing small circles.
"These lips bring me joy," he said softly, before kissing her. Their lips met gently, their tongues danced, and then he wrapped her tightly in his arms.
"Your heart beats fast," Peace said with a shy smile.
"Yeah... because you're my soulmate. We belong to each other. Our love is forever," Melvin whispered, hugging her as if he never wanted to let go.
Suddenly, the sky changed, and the wind blew up.
"Grriimm!" Her phone buzzed violently.
Peace jolted awake and rushed to her handbag on the couch beside her. She fumbled through it and pulled out her iPhone.
"Gosh! Twelve missed calls?" she exclaimed.
It hit her; it was just a dream.
"Oh..." she sighed, placing her right hand on her forehead. "And it felt so perfect... just like old times."
She glanced at the screen. The missed calls were from Paul, Melvin's best friend. The wall clock read 8:34 a.m.
"I can't believe I slept on the couch all night," she muttered as she began climbing the stairs.
Just then, her phone rang again. She paused and checked the caller ID. It was Paul again.
She slid on the phone screen and answered quickly.
"Good morning, Mr. Paul. Please tell Melvin that I'm still at home waiting for him," she said hurriedly, trying to sound composed, thinking her husband had spent the night in his friend's place.
Then came the words that dropped like a nuclear bombshell.
"Peace... I'm so sorry. We lost Melvin last night in a fatal accident; his car wrecked, and he didn't survive the crash."
"Please, what are you talking about?"
"He was admitted to the general hospital, but he didn't make it."
The phone slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. She stood frozen for a second, then her knees gave out, and she collapsed in tears.
***********************************
Cloud 9
***********************************
In the quiet parlour, Peace sat motionless on a soft animal-skin sofa, barely 20 centimeters high. Her slender frame sank into the fur as she stared blankly at the large plasma television mounted on the textured, cloth-covered wall.
Above the TV hung a framed portrait of herself, tender-faced and six years younger. The beautiful studio picture was taken the week she submitted her CV to the company she now works for. Just one week after that picture was taken, she received her offer letter. She had been overjoyed, it was, after all, only two weeks after her wedding. Life had seemed so full of promise.
Next to her portrait was another frame: a wedding photo of her and Melvin, glowing in love and laughter. Peace smiled faintly, then sighed.
"Gosh," she muttered to herself, "that was the happiest day of my life."
To the left of the parlour, a staircase spiraled upward to the master bedroom, now empty and dim. In the far corner stood the dining room, which had been untouched for months, draped in dust and cobwebs, as forgotten as the joy that once filled this house.
Peace held a white A4-sized paper in her trembling hands, hospital laboratory results. Her eyes scanned the words, but they blurred through her confusion and disbelief.
"Should I be happy... or afraid?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner. Her mind had been a battlefield for weeks now.
Since Melvin's death three months ago, she had been plagued by a strange and persistent illness. Nearly every symptom imaginable had visited her: nausea, fatigue, dizziness, a constant aching in her back and abdomen.
She had become a familiar face at the small pharmaceutical store down the street, visiting so frequently that the salesgirl now greeted her by name. But nothing helped. The medications, the herbal teas, the supplements, none of them brought her back to her old self.
Then one morning, something unusual happened. She had driven to the pharmacy as usual, parking hurriedly under the swaying mango tree. But this time, instead of the salesgirl, she found herself face to face with a tall fair man in a white coat.
He was younger than she expected of doctors, with kind but tired eyes. He introduced himself as Dr. Steve, the owner of the pharmacy.
"Good morning," Peace greeted, surprised.
"It's been a while since I saw you here."
"Actually," the doctor said, smiling slightly, "I'm only here today. I'm usually at my hospital. Just took a day off."
"Oh... you're on leave?"
"Not exactly. More like... I gave myself a break," he said with a shrug, watching her carefully.
Peace nodded, suddenly feeling seen, as if her struggles were visible beyond her tired eyes.
"You said you've been coming here for the past three months?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
"Yes," she replied quietly, "almost every day."
He frowned. "What exactly is wrong with you?"
She hesitated, searching for words.
"Honestly... I don't know. It started with morning sickness, then fatigue. I'm always tired. I feel dizzy often, and I have this strange urge to urinate constantly. My back hurts, and so does my abdomen." She instinctively placed a hand over her stomach.
"Just this morning, I vomited again, and I…."
"When was the last time you had your period?" the doctor asked suddenly, cutting her off.
"Period?" Peace repeated, blinking, as though the word was foreign. Her mind stumbled over the thought. Could it be...? Her eyes widened in disbelief.
No. It couldn't be. Melvin is gone. She sat still, stunned, as the memory struck her like a bolt of lightning. The last time she had been with Melvin was the night before the argument, the night he left and never returned.
He had come home drunk after days of silent treatment. He staggered into the room like a man chasing a memory. She remembered sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing a black, sleeveless, transparent nightgown.
She was sad seeing the man she had once admired so much in that way, but there was nothing she could do to help him. All he needs is a child of his own, and she is yet to take in. He stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on her, reeking of whiskey and silence. Without a word, he moved toward her.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to. There was something in his touch that night, desperate, angry, almost apologetic. He gently pushed her back onto the bed, struggled out of his jeans and boxers.
His calloused hands touched her face, trembling slightly.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.
"Tonight, let's make our baby," he whispered, but Peace was quiet.
She knew he was drunk, and so lied like a sacrificial lamb as each stroke slowly took her to cloud 9. Suddenly, he stopped, he detached himself from her, and as she was not wearing pants under, he carelessly brushed those bushy hairs.
Yeah, it has been quite a long time since they had sex, and she doesn't bother about shaving them off to look good for him anymore, but the Adam didn't stop, he teased her clitoris and her blood flow rose.
Rubbing the wet pussy meat, he gently reached down and slide his finger inside the glorious cave, then he doubled the fingers and slowly tripled them, he fingered her roughly, that gave her joy but she kept mute with just voiceless sounds she couldn't control escaping her vocals.
He removed his fingers from the honeypot and gently spread her legs wide. With that, she knew he was about to go in again. His dick has become hard like rock and erect ready to hit. He went in, and although he was drunk, he stroked her gently, this time.
"Gosh", she missed those strokes. She became high and needed some more, and it was as if he knows, he didn't cum quick, he took his time and pleased her, even when he did cum, he was still on top of her, she held him tightly as though her life depended on him.
That night, despite the anger, the hurt, and the silence that had built between them like a wall over the past few months, their bodies spoke a language older than pride and sorrow. It was intense love, exactly, but also something raw and unresolved. They made love in a way that felt like farewell, though neither of them admitted it.
"Hello Lady", the Doctor waved at Peace, having observed her for a while as she was lost in thought.
"Oh yeah, it's been past months now and I'm not bothered about that, because I know I'm not pregnant"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, my husband is of blessed memory, and I haven't been engaged with anyone lately, am still trying to move on with life", she said
"Woman," Dr. Steve said gently, bringing her back from the silence,
"this might not be what you expected... but it's a gift. Consider it a heartbeat that survived pain."
She looked up at him, eyes glassy. "I don't think that's possible."
"Sometimes," he said softly, "we fall apart so that something new can begin."
For a moment, she said nothing. Then she whispered, "Do you think I can do this... alone?"
Dr Steve was quiet, still observing her very well.
"Alright", the Doctor finally said, and brought out a complimentary card.
"Take this card, my hospital address is there, I will not be giving you any drugs till we run a few tests on you, including a pregnancy test, let's not make assumptions", he said and handed her the card.
"If it is positive, then you're going to need prenatal vitamins… and more fruits. Unless you start hating them."
Peace took the card, glanced at it, and said to the doctor,
"Thank you, Doctor, I will drive straight to the hospital before going to my office, thank you so much, sir".
"You're welcome, Lady, and just in case you need a motivation, I lost someone too, years back," he said, his voice low.
"My younger sister. She died of asthma. I couldn't save her. That's why I became a doctor."
Peace looked at him, surprised.
"I'm so sorry, dear."
"It's alright, see you", he said and waved at her.
She waved back, turned, and made her way to where she parked her car. She got into her car, kicked the engine alive and drove out.
Peace folded the white paper gently and placed it on the center table. Her gaze drifted once again to the wedding photo on the wall, then down to her stomach.
"I think... I want to live again," she said, almost to herself.
She had been to the hospital today to collect the result, and it turned out she was pregnant. She just sat on the sofa, confused.
"How I wish he were here to witness this day", Peace said sorrowfully.
Sitting in the quiet of their once-joyful home, Peace pressed her hand tighter against her stomach. A storm swirled inside her, louder than her thoughts. She looked again at the paper on the table. It was no longer unreadable. She was carrying Melvin's child. Her breath caught in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes, not just from sorrow, but from something else she hadn't felt in months.
For the next few days, Peace moved through her home like a woman rediscovering light. She still woke up to the sharp stab of grief in her chest. Melvin's absence was a phantom that haunted her in the quiet moments: when she reached for a toothbrush that wasn't hers, or when she rolled over in bed to find only cold sheets. But now, grief had something to share space with: A life inside her.
Every morning, she placed a palm on her lower abdomen. It was still flat, still quiet, but she knew it was no longer empty. She began to clean again.
The dining room was the first to be touched. She wiped the dust off the chairs, folded the neglected tablecloth, and placed a small vase of white lilies in the center of the table, Melvin's favorite flowers.
Peace wasn't sure if it was in memory of him or for the child now growing inside her. Maybe both.
Peace exhaled, not quite a sigh.
"He was. Until he wasn't. We fought a lot before he died."
Peace paused, then looked down at her hands. "He left behind more than I ever expected."
CHAPTER TWO
A new routine crawled in, every morning before heading out, Peace would stand before her long dressing mirror, with her hand gently tracing the curve of her stomach, she would whisper to herself,
"You're my whole world."
The pregnancy was not without its trials. The nausea, backaches, and strange cravings were nothing compared to the emotional toll. Peace still woke some nights with tears on her cheeks. Sometimes she dreamed of Melvin, half apologies, half illusions, and woke confused, with her hand resting over her stomach as if anchoring herself to the present.
Nine months slowly approached, Peace's belly had grown round and heavy, like the weight of a new world she was learning to carry. The quiet home, once a shell of silence and grief, now hummed with new energy. Baby items filled the corners of rooms that had been untouched. The dining room table now bore folded baby clothes instead of dust.
11th of May, 2025, at 7:30 p.m., the theater room went silent, followed by the first cry of life.
"It's a girl," the nurse said, placing the tiny, warm bundle on Peace's chest.
Peace stared down at her daughter, tears spilling from her eyes like rain. Her hands trembled as she touched the child's cheek.
"She looks like Melvin," she whispered, smiling through her sobs. "But she's all light."
"Have you thought of a name?" The black woman nurse asked quietly.
Peace looked up, then back at the baby.
"Yes... Star."
"Star?"
"Yes, just like the nonreturnable Star her father has become, she will be my consolation."
*********************
Five months after giving birth to her daughter, Star, Peace found herself in the bustling Gbagada main market when she unexpectedly bumped into an old university classmate. They had no time to talk amidst the crowd, but they exchanged phone numbers before parting ways.
Back in their university days, Ella was a gifted writer, the best in Linguistics. She had a brilliant mind and a clear vision for her future. Her dream was to build a career out of writing.
Peace had always admired her for her passion and the way she poured emotion into everything she did. Ella had been ambitious, always aiming high and setting goals with conviction.
As Peace arrived at Ella's place days later, she stood at the front door, holding her baby Star on her back, reflecting on how put-together Ella had seemed in the market.
"She's made it," Peace thought. "At least from the little I saw, her looks, her poise, everything about her was just perfect."
The doorbell rang with a loud "Grimmmmmm."
From inside, a raspy voice called, "I'm coming!"
Ella opened the door, her hair unkempt, her face tired but lit with a smile, the moment she saw Peace.
"Here comes the Peacemaker!" she exclaimed, stepping aside. "Please come in."
Peace entered the apartment, surprised as Ella quickly locked the door behind them.
Inside, the room was not what Peace had expected. It was untidy, with the pungent smell of marijuana hanging in the air. A large 10x10 black-and-white portrait of Ella caught her eye, half-naked, cigarette in mouth, surrounded by smoke. Scattered old magazines littered the sofa.
Trying not to show her shock, Peace gathered the magazines and placed them on the glass center table. She sat down just as Ella returned from the kitchen with a plate of sliced apples.
"Here is kola, manage oo, I don't have much," Ella said.
"Thank you, honey," Peace replied, picking a slice. "Please, can I have a glass of water?"
"Yeah, sure, honey." Ella returned shortly and handed her the glass.
Peace gulped it down. "Thank you."
"Take it easy, baby," Ella said, chuckling, as she took the glass and placed it on the table.
"How have you been, dear?" Peace asked.
"I'm fine, dearest."
"You should be. Weren't you the Chimamanda of our time back in school?" Peace laughed.
Ella smiled faintly. "Peace, those days are gone. Things have changed."
"You can't be serious! What happened to our Ella, the great writer?"
"Story for another day, my dear. But hey, I heard you got married?"
"Yeah… but my man is of blessed memory," Peace replied, her tone quiet and heavy.
"Oh no. I'm so sorry," Ella said softly, reaching out. "Your baby is beautiful. I was in a rush the day we met, I didn't even get to hold her."
She gently touched Star's cheek and smiled. "Hope you didn't have trouble finding the place. Lagos is massive."
"Not really," Peace replied. "But omo, I spent a lot on transport. Lagos transport fare no longer smiles at the poor."
Ella laughed. "It's true. Things are tough everywhere. So, how's life treating you?"
Peace sighed. "Life hasn't been easy. Being a single mom is harder than I imagined. My salary barely gets us by. Stress, bills, everything... It's overwhelming."
Ella paused, then asked, "Have you thought about marrying again?"
The question caught Peace off guard.
"Married again?" she said, eyes wide.
"Yes. You need someone to help raise your child and support you. It's not easy alone, I know. And this country? It's a jungle. I want the best for you. I could fix you up with someone."
"A divorcé?"
"Not exactly. His name is Chike. He owns several hotels here in Lagos and shops in Onitsha. I met him at one of his clubs. He's successful but lost his wife recently. He has a daughter about Star's age. He's looking to settle down again."
Peace hesitated, then smiled faintly. "No need for second thoughts. I guess being a second wife isn't that bad."
"Great," Ella said, reaching for her phone. "I'll send him your contact."
***********************************
MARRIED AGAIN
***********************************
"Every day, different women!"
Peace shouted as she stormed into the room, her voice trembling with frustration. She dropped her bag by the door and collapsed onto the soft, threadbare rug that lay across the tiled floor, exhaling as though trying to release two years' worth of pain.
Ella shut the door gently behind her and followed suit, settling beside her friend in silence. The room smelled heavily of weed, thick and sharp in the air.
On the center table lay neatly rolled wraps of marijuana, scattered beside short bottles filled with unlabelled liquor, the kind no one could ever quite identify but everyone drank to forget.
Two years. That's how long it had been since Peace married Chike, two long, silent, suffocating years.
"Living with that man is hell," Peace said quietly, her voice a shadow of its earlier anger.
"No joy. No peace. Since the day we signed that court marriage paper, it's like my life ended. There are no rules, no respect. He walks in at 2 a.m. with lipstick on his collar and the scent of other women all over him. Different women. Every week."
Ella sat still, her expression unreadable.
Peace continued, her voice breaking.
"I don't even have access to his documents, nothing. I'm his wife on paper, but he treats me like furniture, something to use and ignore. No love. No regard. And now, he has recently employed a nanny to look after his child on a flimsy reason that he doesn't want me to stress much, as if he ever cared about my well-being. I'm just tired. Every one of my movements is monitored by him, and he restricts me from going out. I wanted to go back to work. He refused. He provides, sure, money, food, shelter, but at what cost? He monitors everything. I can't step out without explaining where I'm going and who I'm seeing."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm tired, Ella. I'm exhausted."
Ella reached for one of the joints on the table and passed it to her. "Here," she said softly, "take this."
Peace blinked. "Me? Weed? You must be joking." Peace said, rejecting the tiny, long brown object, her friend offered to her.
"Babe, relax, it'll calm you down. Help your mind a bit. You're burning out."
Peace hesitated. For a moment, she looked away, biting her lower lip. Something in her was desperate for escape, any escape. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she took the joint. Ella lit it for her. Peace drew in the smoke and coughed violently.
CHAPTER THREE
RUINED LESBIAN
"Take it easy, baby," Ella chuckled, handing her a bottle. "Here, wash it down."
Peace took a quick swig. She winced. "What the hell is this? It tastes awful."
"Codeine," Ella said casually. "Helps you float above the pain."
Peace exhaled a puff of smoke. "This is so fucking messed up."
Ella smiled bitterly. "Dearest… life itself is messed up."
She leaned back on the sofa, staring at the POP ceiling above.
"After my NYSC, I hunted for work for two years. Sent my CV to every company you can name. Nothing. I stayed home, writing my thoughts, poems, novels, so many unpublished works stacked up in my room, hoping to surface and publish someday, but I was just dreaming."
She paused, then laughed dryly.
"Finally, I got a call from a government office. The general supervisor, a woman, said she'd seen my results and wanted to meet me. I was ecstatic. I thought, 'Finally, God remembered me.'"
Peace turned to look at her, with her red, teary eyes, listening.
"I dressed well. Prepared answers for the interview. Went to her office. It was just the two of us. She read through my credentials, impressed, she said. I felt proud. Then she walked around her desk and stood behind me. Her voice changed."
Ella mimicked her boss's tone.
'"What are you ready to offer for this job?" she asked.
I smiled like the naive idiot I was. I said, 'Ma, I'll give my best. I'll be punctual, professional, dedicated....'
She cut me off. 'You're not ready,' she said, touching the back of my chair.
I turned to look at her. 'Ma, please, I have excellent results. I've worked so hard....'
She leaned in. Her smile was poison.
'Your results are good,' she said. 'But that doesn't qualify you to work qualify you to work as my secretary. There is a condition.",
She said, smiling, and I was still trying to figure something out when she dropped the bombshell.
Ella's voice went quiet. She stared at the floor as if it held the rest of the memory she didn't want to say out loud.
Peace didn't press. She didn't need to. She already knew.
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
Ella finally spoke again, her voice very low.
"Can I touch your tits?", that was when I understood the reality. I was still looking at her, but her face became blurred for me. I was very furious and felt like crushing her with both hands. So this is what it means to be a government worker. The last time I went for an interview, I was told that the job would be mine immediately if I paid a reasonable amount or signed to give them half of my salary every month."
"That is too bad!", Peace voice out aloud
"Hmmm", Ella breathed out.
"My sister, I realized that life itself isn't fair, especially for those who have no good connections. Slowly, I realized it's either I beat them or I join them. But how can I beat them when I was wallowing in abject poverty, wearing few clothes with worn-out shoes? A whole graduate, second class upper of mass communication, begging for food?
"Chaii", Peace said sadly, but Ella didn't stop; she continued.
"I know I had no option, I just nodded my head and the woman removed my two thousand naira thrift red tie and kept it on top of the big-sized table arranged with different kinds of books at the left side, and at the right side was the green, white, and green national flag. Beside it was a small framed photo of the devil, she was even smiling in the picture, nonsense!. My anger was increasing as she started unbuttoning my well-ironed white T-shirt, and stopped at the third button.
"Wow, you got it big here", she said as she unhooked my bra, and the large map of Africa fell off. Looking at the woman, she was happy just touching them, I was not feeling anything, I just want to get out of the damn office as soon as possible but that was the opposite for the woman, she was having the best of her time. She turned the chair to face me and bent down, rolling her tongue on one of my nipples. Same way, she licked the other one too.
"This woman is mad." I murmured as I felt like giving her the beating of her life, but I needed the job badly. Staying home won't pay my bills, and my boyfriend has become sick and tired of my nagging. I looked at the metal door that leads to the exit, and it was not locked, probably she has informed whoever is at the door not to allow anyone in.
"Ma, can I go now?" I voiced out because I couldn't endure it anymore.
"Yeah, dear," she stood up and allowed me to button up.
"Can you hook that bra?" I was kind of commanding her, and I know if I stay there any longer, I would commit murder.
"Nothing comes for free, dear, your job is signed with me and terminates immediately you stop pleasuring me. You give it to me in the office when I need it, and on Fridays, it's a free day just for the two of us, you come to work in my house", she said, hooking the bra.
"So what happens to my attendance on Friday?" I asked, knowing fully well that I have to sign every day I come to work and before I go back.
"I will take care of that".
"Hmm, work indeed", I speak in my mind, picked up my bag on top of the table, and headed straight for the door,
"Thanks for your time", I heard, but to hell with her as I shut the door loudly in anger.
"I resumed work and was just a sex toy for the woman. I have never imagined being a lesbian in my entire life. Slowly, I started losing interest in my boyfriend, I can count the number of times I had sex with him, I don't see anything special in him again, he was not comfortable with the situation and he did all he could to sort the situation out, but all his efforts was in vain. Finally, he left me. The dirty game affected my perfect relationship, and to date, I can't be able to be with a man. She made me to start going to clubs, that is where I get to know your husband, and he introduced me to more dirty whores.
"Chike?"
"Yes. Before I could realize what was happening, I was already deeply hooked up with my fellow girls. I go for anything that is in a skirt, slept with many rich female politicians for money. I deviated from the goal I set for myself. Yes, I have the money now, but I have lost my soul, especially as I am deep into drugs, it's affecting my daily life, and recently, I was diagnosed with liver cancer.
"Liver cancer?" Peace interrupted
"Yes"
"Girl, you are dying", Peace was flabbergasted to hear such.
"Wicked world!"
"Ella, please, hope this is not a joke or one of your cooked-up stories?
"The deed has been done."
"Ella, the great writer, filled with so much potential to give to society, this is a total shock."
"Girl, I'm dead serious, I thought I was on top of the world as the money I got was more than enough to foot my bills, I bought a house, drove my car gift, and so many things that I desire, and I never lacked anything. I became that classy big girl, but it dawned on me that all that was just vanity upon vanity, I mean, look at me, I end up not getting married because of my desire for women. My career was crushed, and my life has been cut short. Lots of my unpublished work is scattered in one corner of my room. I realized I made the wrong choice, but it's too late for me. Had it been I walked away from that office that very day, my life would not be messed up like this.
"Then stop the drugs and the smoking, it will help a lot for the cancer to go."
"It's the only drug that gives me strength these days, I smoke and it calms my mind down, it eases my depressed life. Do you even know the stage that I am?"
Ella asked, but there was silence from Peace.
Ella breathed hard and continued
"And you're talking about saving my life?. Hmm, my dear, I will just live for the moment."
"It's so sad,, Peace said with her dull reddish eyes
"I did what I had to do. I hated myself for months. Still do, sometimes."
Peace looked at her, eyes red from both the smoke and her tears. "How do we fix this? How do we escape it?"
Ella smiled faintly. "We don't escape, darling. We rise. Piece by piece. Maybe not today. Maybe not even next month. But one day, we will wake up to be no more. Death, after all, is a price we all will pay."
"Yeah, but your grave is too early."
Peace took another drag of the joint, slower this time. Her eyes gazed into the smoke spiraling above, and for a moment, her shoulders relaxed.
Slowly, she fell asleep. Outside, the sun had long disappeared, and the shadows of their broken life danced along the walls.
CHAPTER 4..... LOADING