MAGICAL MONDAYS WITH 'KREATE'

LIFE IS GREY

Episode 2: My Past Is Mine

            It was just her second year in Adekunle Ajasin University and Ashley Olasubomi was already the bane of the undergraduate mane realm. Although she did not adorn jewelry or wear skinny jeans or magical makeup or reveal a belly button or a line of cleavage, she exuded sensuality. It was the only logical explanation as to why guys flocked around her, naturally like bees to honey, or shamelessly like houseflies to dung. She saw guys as an unnecessary distraction and was a firm believer in the No-Sex-Before-Marriage philosophy. Good looks and masculine charms came her way and failed in persuasion. Monetary motivation proved futile too as she lacked the desire for what she termed unnecessary acquisitions. Her smart and studious nature logically gave birth to great grades so there was no requirement of sexual favours from admiring tutors. Her familial relationship to the registrar of the institution also instigated deviant tutors not to coerce her into submission by tampering with her grades.

            Friday. A play was staging in the university’s auditorium in twenty minutes time and Ashley, on account of her love for motion pictures and her desire to become an actress at some point in the future, was excited to attend. Adorned in a tee shirt, a pair of denims and sneakers, she was ready to leave. There was only one person holding her back. He had been dressing up for fourty minutes. She hated to betray women folk, but he took his time like a woman. It could be fascinating some days and pretty annoying on others – like today.

            ‘Geez Tayo, for crying out loud! What’s taking you so long? How long would it take you to get dressed?.’ Ashley called out to the guy in the bedroom, drumming her fingers impatiently on a reading desk with weak legs.

            Tayo had been Ashley’s close friend since secondary school. His tall, lanky physique plus his nerdy pair of spectacles made him unpopular with the ladies. The few ones who occasionally drew close to him, did so on account of his intelligent nature for he was an embodiment of the cliché that geeky looking guys were smart. He did not have a girlfriend and his desperation for one was as palpable as a metal bar. Naturally, a lot of ladies would have taken advantage of it, if Ashley didn’t constantly swat them off with degrading words and phrases. On a few occasions, without mincing words, Tayo would have said he didn’t mind being used for his intelligence as long as it got him laid. Ashley called it foolish talk and would hear of no such things.

            Ashley made for the door but stopped in her tracks when the door to Tayo’s bedroom opened. There was nothing remarkable about his dressing. Ashley was caught between amusement and irritation. ‘You took fourty minutes for this?’

            Tayo couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘Ash, I must tell you something.’

            ‘Can’t it wait till after the play?’

            ‘I will be travelling to the UK this weekend?’

            Ashley laughed. ‘Going on holiday for you is as recurring as visiting the grocery store. Although you ought to have told me it’s next week. But don’t worry I am not mad.’ She began tapping the door knob impatiently. ‘Can we head on to the play now?’

            He managed to look her in the eyes. ‘I wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. I am transferring to the University of Sunderland to complete the rest of my bachelor’s degree. I am really sorry,’ he whimpered.

            Fingers stopped tapping, heartbeat began thumping fast, and a hot flush permeated her senses. She was angry, weak, speechless and immobile, all at the same time. He had betrayed her. After what seemed like five minutes of staring into his eyes without really seeing him, she turned and shut the door behind her.

   

            The play had been an absolute mess, not for lack of excellence as it had instigated a resounding ovation at exeunt, but because her mind had been elsewhere. Her mind stayed in that swirl of pain and sadness as she trudged along a shortcut that led to her hostel. Suddenly a car zoomed right in front of her and two masked guys jumped out. 

            Every other thing happened so fast, so fuzzy. She remembered screaming, the stinging slap and adjoining baritone warning that shushed her into a trembling state; she remembered her bra been ripped off, cold hands forcing her thighs open, the smell of vegetation mingled with sweat and menace, the force and ferocity with which illicit sexual intimacy baptized her...

            …and two weeks later, after she had been screened and tested and mended physiologically, after a series of failed attempts to restore her psychologically, she felt something else. Something that had been lurking behind shrubs of regret, pain and disbelief. Something sweet, delightful, and insanely memorable enough to instigate the yearn for repetition. Sex had found her. Something had cracked her definition of sanity and morality. She felt rough, crooked, daring, and she liked it. She wanted more. 

Kreate is a budding Nigerian writer with a flair for fiction. Writing for him began sometime in secondary school where he dabbled in poetry and plays. He has authored two self-published short novels.
He is a banker and lives in Surulere.