A Nonfictional story…
They say love is beautiful, charming and adorable but to Richey love is like a black magic casted on her. The young seemingly fleshy, fair lady on tattered cloth sat, renting her body to the cemented surface littered with flies attracted by the rain that fell that day, her eyes were red and swollen as if they had encountered pepper from repeated sessions of bathing her chin with the rivers vomited by the socket above her nose, after a while, she stood up walking to and fro with her hands on her head and wailing, she had Carttah flowing from her nose complementing the tears that found solace on her chin. I, mum, other tenants and the man and woman that brought her home were watching, we all watched in pity, wishing we could help her but the young lady was far from needing our help. “Arinze!, where are you? A–rin–ze I love you” I watch her collapse to the ground in tears, “please am sorry, come back Arinze” she added hitting the ground as if to break it with her body. This Arinze, I said to my self, this guy that has led her to this condition, this guy that has abounded her and left her like this, she didn’t even still hate him a bit, she still call him love and begged he comes,” this is not love, this is madness, love is a spell” I buzzed in disbelieve, this pretty girl was now looking like a zombie…before we knew it she was throwing her wide short legs to the gate to look for her lover obviously, that was when people began to beg and restrain her but she showered us with insult and insane talks, she was drunk, yes bastardly drunk and acting stupid, all for love, “what stupid love?” I yelled, this is madness and this young lady was obviously insane.”Daddy, honey, love…”she would always call the guy who look from all indication, very young in age and a flirt. Jane offered him her heart, her body and her salary, she thought he would take her to the alter. she always announced to everyone that he was her husband and they where going to get married next month, next month that never comes.
I remember how many times she would get drunk and make a whole lot of trouble but even in drunkenness she recognizes him, Arinze! he was her master and she was more of a slave to his love than his partner, because this love was not beautiful, it was unfair, partial and not good for you, even for me, because I remember how many times he will render punches on her as if she was his punch bag and press her neck as if to deprive her of life but yet she would still go after him, maybe begging him to beat her the more, she preferred to be with him in pain than to be without him, she was so in love with him, may be let’s call it dark love, this loves like an Angel’s Trumpet flower my mum always talk about, it was beautiful yet toxic and poisonous.
I recall that what resulted to her condition this evening is that the guy she calls a lover borrowed almost a hundred thousand from her, which she collected from her customers because she worked in the bank, he had been unable to pay her back and the customer who were impatient like a child waiting for food had reported her to the manager and now her job, even her salary was at stake. I remember the previous evening when they had argument in that respect, I watched them through my window quietly because my window was directly facing theirs and the light in the room was so bright that it expose their figures and the thin, slim curtain, was so light that it could not cover this awful secret. I watched her yell at him and I watch how so many times he held her mouth as if prevent her from talking further, he didn’t even use the kissing method everyone use to talk about to shut her up but his hands, I was somehiow terrified as I watch her struggled for air like a dying chicken but on and on he went preventing her from talking further, until she fell asleep, I watch with my heart racing because I had no clue about what he was doing, just immediately my mum interrupted and when I got back there, I placed my face on the window holding the burglary to watch ,I saw him doing something, so creepy and terrifying, he was moving around searching her things, “oh my God” I whispered lost, he whirled abruptly, so I quickly jumped on my bed, my head buried on my pillow left to my imagination until this morning, wandering what love this was.
The next morning when I saw the girl who was yelling for her money, crying like a child beaten and begging this young man she called husband, lover and of all her life, I knew everything was not okay. She kept telling him he was everything she had and she would die if he left, she wasn’t even asking for the money, so irritated I thought quietly gluing my ear against my window, I didn’t know what to think because I could only imagine what was happening, I was so scared he was going to harm her may be even kill her. “what is happening here!?” My mum was Standing in front of her door, “nothing mummy, he is not doing anything to me, am just begging him “she pleaded defensively, concealing the tears on her face with her palm, what pissed me off was his response, I could read the disgust in mum’s face, “she is not hearing word, I want to teach her a lesson “I heard him say, this was the same person that is indebted to her, disgusted I wandered who was suppose to be taught a lesson, of course it was him who deserved such lesson because he didn’t respect love neither her. To cut the story short even dad at a point that day went there to warn them because he continuously heard rustles from the room and plates falling, may be he was also scared that they were going to harm themselves, I didn’t have a word to say because I was still stunned at the love that was displayed before my eyes. This Lady spent her whole day on the carpet, asking this guy not to be angry, she sat with her breast and bare thigh without even an under cover…as my mum later explained begging this guy who sat on the bed directly facing her with his legs wide open, his hands resting on them and his shoulder high like lion king or something watching Richey sitting messy like a trash with no pity or remorse and this was called love, even when my dad interfered the young lady was ready to receive all the blame like Jesus Or Mohammed, she denied that the guy was even hurting her in anyway but I saw it pasted her face that she was hurt and had been crying till that afternoon but she was carried away by love, while dad threatened I watch the lover boy with wide head likened to an Amoeba’s shape, broad lips, bony chin and thin body, blamed the lady for everything, I watched him wear his shoes and walked towards the gate, while she raced after him with only wrapper and her breast dangling as she followed but you know the guy outsmarted her and I didn’t really know what happened but I saw her walked back barefooted cleaning the Carttah that raced it way from her nose with her palm and her eyes with her wrapper, poor girl I thought but am sure she didn’t see it the way, may be she didn’t even see anything wrong with what he was doing to her because she was in love.
That was the same evening she came back drunk, after much deliberation we decided to go get her Arinze because she kept running towards the gate in the name of going to look for him, I was fed up with her and her insult but I tolerated it, wishing I could spank her with a wood on her head because to me she was acting stupid. Thanks to the woman who knew where Arinze lived. When he got there, I watched the young Lady’s switch of countenance, as usual even in drunkenness she recognized him, I watch her smiled pointing at him like a psycho, “I told you, this is my husband “she said walking towards him, I and my mum startled, exchange glances, as the young man authoritatively told her to come and with no objection she did swinging her short legs stylishly and excitedly, he held her in the hand and ask her to go to the room, you would think she would object but she didn’t, she was loyal to his love, he asked her further to sit and lay on the bed and she did, she was smiling but he wasn’t, his face was straight and that irritated me the more, she did everything he wanted her to do without complain, I watched scared of what this love really was, if this is love then let it be far from me I concluded disgusted and angry. Other people watched too, my mum, other tenants, the man that picked her dead drunk from the road did too. I watch everyone dispatched one after the other until it was only I and my mum, mum just hissed and entered inside the house, I manage to sit at the verandah, imagining how comes he was the only who could calm her down, I guess he had put her to sleep. I was so scared for her, people called it love but this wasn’t love to me, it was more than that, may be it was a charm or something, in fact I think this lady had serious psychological issues and needed not love but therapy, she was too beautiful to be treated that way, I didn’t know what was wrong with her but all I know up till this moment is she needed help, I don’t care what anyone would say but I know I can’t love like this because love to me is a mutual feeling shared by both parties, it is impartial, rational, love is meant to be felt with the heart not just body and meant to bring laughter not tears, if I will love, I will love with my heart and head, I don’t know about you but I don’t want to love like this enslaved to a dark, bitter love.
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3 thoughts on “Angel’s Trumpet”
God bless you for sharing this story. I have shared it with a few woman I believe would get something from it. Blessings to you baby girl.
smile….thank you so much for finding this worth reading and sharing….this means so much
Reblogged this on Get Inspired Today and commented:
A story you should read!!!
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