Wednesday, 23 August 2017

Golden Residue | Short Story by Precious Deji-Omolere

California, being the most populous state in the US turned to be an irony for my own family. When my dad told me we were relocating to California, my mind went down to Los Angeles like a straight bullet. My heart jumped out of my mouth when dad finally released the missile, we were to relocate to Coultervillle. It was not such a highly populated town and I hoped it was not going to be shoddily boring.

It turned out to be a backbreaking work moving our chattels down to our new residence. We did it all the same. I realized it was cool after all. I then consigned to grave my unending pique, I had made up my mind to remain dead to everyone in the house until dad was forced to get our ass off this old-called-new residence. I promised my late mum not to leave the house until I was married, being the only child. If not, I could decide to leave the house myself.

It was a bungalow and way far better compared to the former one, with its spacious lawn which spread through the entire compound,  making it apposite for football, house picnic or any beautiful event. It was therefore an exciting twenty-second, having my friends around to mark my birthday. It catapulted from the usual living room party to a colourful outside world. No breath passed through any second, each second was fun-filled.

Ice Cream, cookies and soda pop tinctured my cake and I decided to never remind myself of momma's death ever. She died five years ago on my birthday, I'd cried continuously every birthday morning, but this day I let the past behind me and decided to move on with my life.

My fiancee, Anabel, also did her best to ensure mouth kept on griding, she had always been a loving girl, hardworking and understanding. To compensate all her effort, I thought it stupendous to drop her off her house, about eight kilometers far. I didn't care, after all it took her the same eight kilometers to come to my house and she even woke the birthday boy and the entire household that morning.

I dropped her at her door step with a good night hug and waves. I took a u-turn to head back home. I had drove past three kilometers when I saw three men on the road far ahead, each with a touch, flashing for a stop. I resolved into turning back and take another route since they seemed dangerous with the road blocked. Then I heard a knocking sound on the car roof with a flash and a voice telling me to wind down or he'd shoot. Fear crawled on all fours into my untainted heart. I remembered I could pray, I muttered the Lord's prayer in a flash and attempted to open the driver's door, but my hand overly shook, it became hard to open the door. My sluggishness paved way for a hard blow through the glass, tiny glasses bathed my body, some to my eyes, my ears and shirt.

I was pulled out with another heavy downpour of blow which caused my eyes to tumble round it's socket and seemed like I lost an eye already. My voice went paralysed as I shook and sweat at the same time. Whether they were robbers or they were killers, I didn't know.

They took off my dress and collected my car key. One of them before they zoomed off cocked the gun towards me as I closed my eyes squeezing out juvenile tears. It was the sound of the kicked car that made me realized the guy was  gone and I was not shot.

I was naked, except they spared me my briefs, no one helped me home, I walked five kilometers down home, my joints complained of excessive exercise.

"No one helped me " I faced grandpa with tears and resentment towards those that saw me and refused to help me.

" But God helped you, this is you, it doesn't matter what might have happened " grandpa said

The incident reminded me of momma once again but I overlooked it and thanked God that this is me it doesn't matter what I went through or lost. I still have me, that's enough.

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