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{Continuation}51 Sleepless Nights

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Whenever he said it, I couldn‘t even look him in the eye. I‘d just

cave and give him what he wanted. It‘s not because he was the

boss of me or anything. There‘s nothing wrong with me wanting

to be a good father.

All the while, he kept practicing with his bike. He was the

best I‘d ever seen, and anyone who saw him swore the same. He refused to participate in anything big because he ―wasn‘t ready

yet‖, but he blew all the local competitions a new one. People

started coming from miles around to watch him perform, and as

soon as they found out I was his father, I‘d have a dozen hands

clapping me on my back or offering me a beer.

―You must be so proud of him,‖ they‘d all say.

―Of course I am. He‘s my son.‖

This coming weekend is going to be his biggest one yet. Some

YouTube personality will be recording the whole thing, and I

know the second the world sees what my boy can do, he‘ll be

too big to ever put back in a box. I tried to warn him about how

things will change after that, but he wouldn‘t listen to me.

―Isn‘t this what you wanted?‖ he asked. He sat down on his

bed, giving me a look of wide-eyed, blameless sincerity as

though he was a perfect angel sent here to bless my life. Bullshit act.

―Don‘t pretend you know what I want,‖ I told him. I was sick

of that grin he always wore. ―You go if you want to, but you‘re

going alone. I don‘t want any part in this media circus.‖ I turned

to leave, trying to get out of his room quick enough before he

said –

―Please don‘t go. I need you Dad.‖

I don‘t know why, but that time it really got to me. It wasn‘t

just a little kid trying to get away with something. This was an

active taunt, manipulation of the highest degree. I thundered

back around to face him, hoping to put my foot down and

reestablish myself as the authority figure.

―If I ever hear you say that again, I‘m going to beat your ass

until – ‖

―Until what?‖ he interrupted. ―Until I‘m as broken as he

was?‖

My breath caught as though someone had reached down my

throat and grabbed it from the inside. He‘s never spoken of the

other Andrew before. I‘d hoped to God he never would. My

hands involuntarily clenched into fists, so tight I could feel my

muscles trembling all the way up my shoulders.

―It was never about me succeeding, was it?‖ he asked, that

arrogant grin spreading across his face. ―You just wanted a little

for yourself, didn‘t you? Only now the light‘s grown too bright,

and you‘re getting scared.‖

―I want you out of this house. Now.‖ I‘ve never spoken like

that before in my life, so low it was closer to a growl than

words.

―You sure Mom agrees with you on that?‖

―Don‘t call her that. Get out. I want you gone.‖

―Throw away one son, and it‘s his fault.‖ Andrew wasn‘t

backing down. He was standing an inch from my face now.

―Throw away two, and suddenly it‘s yours.‖

I threw my fist at his face with everything I got. Maybe I could

break his nose, or knock his teeth out. Maybe I could scar him up – anything to make this impostor look less like my son. I

hadn‘t realized just how strong he‘d grown though, and when

he swatted my fist away, it felt like the bones in my hand were

rearranging themselves.

―Don‘t be like that, Dad,‖ he said. ―You wanted me to be the

best, didn‘t you?‖

I grunted through the pain and swung again. My eyes could

barely follow the blur of his movements. He locked my

outstretched arm against his side, and before I knew what was

happening, he‘d spun me around and slammed me into his

closed door. I tasted blood, and my arm strained so bad against

his pressure that it must be about to dislocate. I bit my tongue,

trying not to scream. I couldn‘t let Amy know her son was a

monster.

―What do you want from me?‖ I had to spit and mumble to

push the words through the bubbling blood and the pressed

door frame.

He let me go and laughed as I slid to the floor. ―I‘m not like

you. I don‘t need anything from anyone. I just like being on

your side of the world. Where I‘m from, we don‘t have families

like this.‖

I strained for any sign that the words were changing as he

spoke. I didn‘t want to look, but an irresistible urge forced my

head to turn. I wanted him to be a monster. Some horrible grey￾skinned ghoul with tentacles, or a dozen gaping maws –

anything but what was there. Anything but that mockery of my

son which grinned down at me.

―What are you?‖ I asked. ―Where are you from?‖

―Come with me this weekend,‖ he said, ―or I‘ll take you there.‖

It was undeniably a threat. I don‘t know if he was a Demon

crawled up from Hell, or some specter from a nether world too

horrible to contemplate, but lying there on the ground in a

growing pool of my own blood, I finally understood how

powerless my real son must have felt waiting for me.

Rustle. Like something in the bushes outside the window.

Then:

―Nunquam suade mihi vana! Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse

venena bibas.‖ 1

The voice was coming from outside, sounding so familiar and

so alien, like listening to your own voice through a recording.

Andrew recoiled as though struck. He snarled, launching

himself at the window. Finally the illusion of his humanity was

beginning to shed, and beneath the distorting fabric of his T￾shirt, I could see the red blisters spreading. The creature roared

as it smashed into the glass, but a brilliant light radiated from

the panel and repelled it like an electrically charged fence.

―Exorcizamus te omni satanica potestas.‖ 2

I could just make out a hunched shape outside the window,

but it was immediately obscured by another blinding flash of

light which penetrated through the morphing creature. Boils the

size of my head were swelling and rupturing down the length of

its back. Black pus flowed freely down its sides. Again it

slammed itself into the window, but this time it vanished

straight through the portal without so much as cracking the

glass behind.

By the fading brilliance, and without the creature blocking my

view, I saw the figure on the other side of the glass. Its back was as twisted and monstrous as the creature who had just been

banished, and its face was unevenly stitched together with a

network of scars, burns, and unsealed holes which allowed me

to see straight through his cheek and into his mouth.

Through all the disfigurement and abuse, it was clear that

nothing which has happened to him – nothing that could ever

happen to him – could ever disguise the fact that he was my son.

It was difficult to explain, and even more difficult for Amy to

understand, but she confessed that she always felt something

wasn‘t right and was relieved to finally have an answer.

Andrew, my real boy, told us that the thing was called an

Irasanct, and they exist as powerless swarms of unresolved

desires. Sometimes they will find their way to us through

minute holes that exist between dimensions, although they

remain harmless until they are given power by our acceptance

of them.

The Irasanct cannot remain here long without taking a form,

and even once they are accepted, they can only stay so long as

they replace the void they left behind with someone from our

side. When I took the creature home as my son, I gave it the

strength to banish my true son to the other side, although the

recounting of his journey there is another story altogether.

The real Andrew had managed to return four months ago,

watching us from the bushes and protecting us against the

Irasanct. When I asked why he didn‘t reveal himself sooner, he

said he was waiting for the time when he knew I would accept

him as my son.

To come back to us after what I had done to him – after

everything he‘s been through – pride does not even begin to

approach the admiration I feel for him. He wouldn‘t stay with us long though, saying there are more of the Irasanct leaking

through at an increasing rate. Barely a teenager and already

deformed from his injuries and his trials spent on the other side,

Andrew is going to keep fighting them. And he‘s going to be the

best there ever was.

I watched him go early this morning. I didn‘t want him to

leave, but I know I had no right to speak the words in my heart.

―Please don‘t go. I need you son.‖

Note: My son spoke indecipherable Latin at the time, but he has

since taught me the spells which translate to:

1: What you offer me is evil. Drink the poison yourself.

2: We cast you out, every satanic power.

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Son_Of_Thunder

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#Son_Of_Thunder💛

[you’re my hearts crown👑]

 

© adesola adeomowole.m.

 

#Season_2_Episode_30👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

 

Angelina’s p.o.v🎤

I sighed deeply and bashed my lashes when obi glared at me.He knows am the same Angelina who can kill to save her reputation,her fame her popularity…

 

“you don’t have a prove?are you planning on turning my back against Dominic,my cousin”he said.

 

“am not but this is just the truth,dominic is not who you think he is….I know…am”I paused when he starts walking away.I followed him.

“Obi you need to here me out,am know more the desperate Angelina, am not even faking this”I said.

he walked out.

I followed him throughout the stairs, his mother came right in time.She flashed me the best smile.

 

“bless you,my dear”

“so how is it,now”she asked.

I nodded.”we are cool”I said.

“we talked already”I added.

“we talked about what,exactly??? obi turned in full surprise.I flinched back in surprise.

 

is it my sight? or what??? the spark in his eyes was more than fire and his voice could bring down the whole mansion.

I sighed and he walked out.I really need to do something.If at all to gain 2% trust from him.

 

“umm sorry my dear,soon he will get used to you”Mrs diamonds said and took my hand then hugged me patting my back slowly.

 

She unlocked and took me upstairs for gifts,I guess.

the maids where in her large room that looked like a fortress already.

Soo many jewelry box were arranged in a row.

wealth in overall.

 

“I got you a gift”she smiled and lift the mini jewelry box…

I admired it well with my dazzling eyes then collect it.

waoooow…..I opened it.I touched the fine crown made with pure gold.

“will it fits”she said and wanted to wear it on my head.I felt cold remembering obi’s reaction minutes ago.

 

am I not being desperate already?

all these should be given to Obi’s fiancée.

 

“It suites you my dear”she said.

I tool it off immediately, guess she noticed my uneasiness.

“yes its pretty”I said and returned it then locked the box.

A maid came and took the box to my car….

 

Cheta’s p.o.v💛

finally,I arrived at the duplex.its the safest place I can go for the night.

I knocked,the security man opened the gate.I covered my palm in my face as I entered.

 

“cheta,its you right”he said.

I nodded and ran to the apartment. the door was locked.I put on my phone to text granny.

💌 house key???

💌 are you home,what happened?

she replied immediately then called.

“key is in the flower pot but why are you home?”she asked.

“nothing”I replied as I opened the door.I dropee my shoes and walked upstairs.

 

“why are you home,where’s Rita?” she asked again.

“nothing,I feel sick”I lied.

“you better say the truth”she said.

I rolled my eyes,a tear dropped for nothing.

“calm down and tell me more,come on”she request.

“Its Mrs diamonds,she insulted me and called me all sort of names then warned me sternly to stay away from her son”I said.

“soooooooooo”she said and laughed

“what’s funny….is it funny?”I rolled my eyeballs.

“is that why you are crying”sge said on phone I dried my tears.is it that obvious.If am crying then it’s because obi didn’t speak for me when his mother insulted me.

 

granny laugh increased on the phone.It makes me look stupid.

 

“my daughter,the best punishment you can give to Mrs diamond is by becoming successful….

Once you’ve become successful,trust me she will be the one to come and beg you”she said.

I nodded.”OK”

“now smile for me”she said..

“bye”I said in a little smile.At least I feel better.

I proceed to my room,everywhere was still very neat.i dropped my purse and phone then search for what to wear.

 

finally I saw the black nightie. I showered and got dressed..

I lay upward on the bed.When it was exactly 12pm,I texts Margaret happy birthday and did a voice message where I sang birthday song for her.

💌 awwww💕☺😍”she replied.

I dropped the phone and lift the duvet to cover myself to sleep.my phone didn’t ring.

 

does this means obi don’t care. Not even a call.

 

Obi’s p.o.v💕💕

I stopped my car at where the tracker took me to.She actually came to her granny’s house.I wore a face cap to cover my identity as I step out.

 

“you must be the new neighbor”the gatekeeper said.I kept looking down as I enter.

“I’m looking for cheta,her apartment pls”I said.I even raise my face.Too late he saw my physique from upwards.

he looked lost for some minutes,like conniption gripped him.

 

“are you here at all”I said and flagged my facecap well.

“am here your highness….”

what’s he talking about.He hastily went on his kneels then try touching my feet.

 

is this man high???

“where’s chetas apartment? that’s what I asked”I said.

still on his kneels he directed me shaking.

 

“your highness”

“amadi your highness”

“your highness” he kept calling.

 

“next time,drink responsible.Am Obi” I told him and pushed the knob.The door was even open.

I entered the house and took the stairs.

five doors were in a row.I guessed cheta’s door is the one halfly opened.I got scared to knock.

 

finally,I knocked and she opened.

she wore a black nightie she tied her hair up.

 

her expression was……….

“what do you want?”she asked.

“cheta am sorry about few hours ago” I said and tried touching her,she moved back.

 

“you told me you and Angelina are no more an item?why did you lie to me?” she added.

 

“I didn’t lie,there was nothing between us”I said.

 

“but earlier I saw her in your family house .You still want her or did your mother not Wang her for you or not?” she said.

 

“she did but I don’t…..

she closed her door.I stood backing her door.She’s in so much hurt.Am getting frustrated,seeing her mad at me is something I can’t handle.Her tears is so precious,I hate to see them drop.

 

I felt her standing the same way, backing the door.I gently tapped the door.

“am sorry my love,I never meant to hurt you.what I told you about Lina is the truth….”

 

“that feast was it the only one?”she asked.

 

“cheta let me explain….

 

“it wasn’t right? why are you doing this to me obi,you should have told me from the start”she said and started crying.

I felt her fall on her bed.

 

“hmm where do you want me to stay since you won’t hear me out.if you don’t open up,its fine I will just stand till morning”I said.

she didn’t talk.

 

OK this is funny…cheta has a temper

 

she opened her room door minutes later, I turned.it was as if the moon was between us.I smiled and looked in her face,it wasn’t funny.

 

she left the door opened and walked in her room.I walked in and close the door.

she tried falling on her bed but I held her tight and hugged her from behind.

“cheta please am sorry”I said.

“can you tell your mom I am your fiancée now”she said.

I smiled and kissed her cheek.

“will you do that now or you’re not proud of me? you couldn’t speak for me in the presence of your mother, am I that local”she said.

“tell me,is it me you love or my mother”I whispered in her ears.

“both”she said.

“she have no choice to accept you then”I whispered

she turned and hugged me back…

“she feel hot”she said and felt my temperature.

“I will be calm now that I know you’re happy”I said.she smiled and kissed my cheeks tightly.

“common let’s go”I said..she followed me out.I waited and watched her lock the door after which she kept the key in the flower pot….

 

“your highness,bye bye”

the gateman still said.I chuckled.

“your gateman,does he drink”I asked cheta then beeped the car.

“no,he’s a decent man.He only drinks when its cold.Just one bottle”she replied.

“well I think he drank much today”i said and opened the door for her.

“I don’t think he drank today.Does he smell of liquor?”she looked back.I took her by her waist and moved her in the car.

“don’t stare at him,he drank too much already”…I said until he shouted again.

 

“Amadioaha!!!….I really want to meet you and tell you some things”he said.

“tell me instead”cheta moved out.

“I said don’t go,he’s drunk”I said and moved her in then locked the car door. she moved out from the other side and rushed out.

 

“common,listen to me”I caught her and lift her on my shoulders then took her to the car.I quickly enter the other side before she will go out again….

“obi,let’s here him out at least.I can’t count the number of people calling you amadioha already.don’t you find it strange already”she said.

 

“fine let’s here him out”I said.

we both step out.She walked faster.

“hey,stay at my back.He’s drunk what if he do something unexpected”I said and took her hand.

she smiled.

 

“yes,what is it that you want to tell me…am a ears”I said and removed the face cap and wore it for cheta since he’s already looking at her.

I made her stand in a distant and stood alone with the man..

he seems drunk,I don’t want him saying rubbish in front of cheta..

 

“ummm I want to tell you that you own everywhere here…. you’re the rightful owner of the throne.

I thought you knew that already but you acted naive when I called you his highness,I was beginning to think something is wrong with you… maybe amnesia…

 

everyone thought you were dead but you’re not”the old man said.

 

“I knew he’s drunk”.

 

“where’s your prove?”I asked.

“my prove is the thunder flame tatoo on your arm-the thunder signifies you,amadioha”he said.

 

I don’t know what to believe…but why didn’t anybody tell me this part of my birth.I will personally meet with dad.

 

“thank you”I said and offered him some money.

“umm thank you but I don’t want money,give me something of yours” he said.

“that’s easy”I said and took off a ring, I gave him and left.

“what did he say! cheta asked in the car..

“he said you should twerk for me”I said.

“youre not serious”she said and hit my arm.I kissed her hand there.

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑.

 

Venita’s p.o.v😱

prince eze just called me not quiet long.King somadinna is seriously sick and there’s only 10% of his survival and so he’s hoping of his death so he will be king.

 

imagine😱 how can a son wish his father death.Anyways,its just for the best,how will I be queen if he doesn’t die.

 

I stirred the sauce on the gas when cheta’s sister, what’s that her name again came into the kitchen.

she came to stand near me and started watching everything I was doing.

I was dishing obi’s food.I need to add the charm before he returns.

 

“what are you doing here,go to your room or better still go and watch tv” I said.

 

“or you yourself will go and watch tv now.For your information, Anita the second hand maid will be the one cooking dinner because the cornflakes you made for me this morning was so watery…when its not holy water”she said.

 

waaaaatttttt…how dare this brat.

“shut up your mouth before I slap those dirty teeth out of your mouth” I said and raise my hand to hit her.I restrained myself.

 

“you don’t know how you look like with that your mop hair,crayfish bended leg,hit me now…..”

 

this is the height of it.This small girl. I slapped her mouth,although it was little, just lightly.

“do I look like my cheta that you can talk to anyhow?she said and hit her own back.

 

“you better go back to primary school and collect your school fees if dirty is the only example of adjective you know”she said.And walked out.

 

Anita came.I left for the maids quarter shamefully.but before then I already dropped the charm on obi’s entrance.

 

soon his car drove in😍.I pray he doesn’t see it.

I moved in when they moved in and watched closely to check out for the charm.I pretend I was cleaning the glass door opposite his suite.

 

he was coming… but then cheta crossed it…

I shivered,why do I feel scared? cheta crossed it.

 

my eyes locked with Obi,that was when he looked down and…..

 

the napkin I was cleaning with fell.

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Soccer Predictions for 26 Oct 2020

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Story:- Miss Bracegirdle Does Her Duty

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Miss Bracegirdle Does Her Duty

‘T his is the room , madame.’

‘Ah, thank you …thank you.’

‘Does it appear satisfactory to madame ?’

‘Oh, yes, thank you

…quite.’

‘Does madame require anything further?’

‘Er—if not too late, may I have a hot bath?’

‘Parfaitement, madame. The bathroom is at the end

of the passage on the left. I will go and prepare it for

madame.’

‘There is one thing more…I have had a very long

journey. I am very tired. Will you please see that I am not

disturbed in the morning until I ring.’

‘Certainly, madame.’

Millicent Bracegirdle was speaking the truth—she was

tired. In the sleepy cathedral town of Easingstoke, from

which she came, it was customary for everyone to speak

the truth. It was customary, moreover, for everyone to lead

simple, self-denying lives—to give up their time to good

works and elevating thoughts. One had only to glance at

little Miss Bracegirdle to see that in her was epitomized

all the virtues and ideals of Easingstoke. Indeed, it was

the pursuit of duty which had brought her to the Hôtel

de l’Ouest at Bordeaux on this summer’s night. She had

travelled from Easingstoke to London, then without a

break to Dover, crossed that horrid stretch of sea to Calais,

entrained for Paris, where she of necessity had to spend

four hours—a terrifying experience—and then had come

on to Bordeaux, arriving at midnight. The reason of this

journey being that someone had to come to Bordeaux to meet her young sister-in-law, who was arriving the next

day from South America. The sister-in-law was married

to a missionary in Paraguay, but the climate not agreeing

with her, she was returning to England. Her dear brother,

the dean, would have come himself, but the claims on his

time were so extensive, the parishioners would miss him

so…it was clearly Millicent’s duty to go.

She had never been out of England before, and she had

a horror of travel, and an ingrained distrust of foreigners.

She spoke a little French—sufficient for the purposes of

travel and for obtaining any modest necessities, but not

sufficient for carrying on any kind of conversation. She

did not deplore this latter fact, for she was of opinion

that French people were not the kind of people that one

would naturally want to have conversation with; broadly

speaking, they were not quite ‘nice’, in spite of their

ingratiating manners.

The dear dean had given her endless advice, warning

her earnestly not to enter into conversation with strangers,

to obtain all information from the police, railway

officials—in fact, anyone in an official uniform. He deeply

regretted to say that he was afraid that France was not a

country for a woman to travel about in alone. There were

loose, bad people about, always on the lookout…He really

thought perhaps he ought not to let her go. It was only

by the utmost persuasion, in which she rather exaggerated

her knowledge of the French language and character, her

courage, and indifference to discomfort, that she managed

to carry the day.

She unpacked her valise, placed her things about the

room, tried to thrust back the little stabs of homesickness

as she visualized her darling room at the deanery. How

strange and hard and unfriendly seemed these foreign

hotel bedrooms—heavy and depressing, no chintz and

lavender and photographs of…all the dear family, the

dean, the nephews and nieces, the interior of the cathedral

during harvest festival, no samplers and needlework or coloured reproductions of the paintings by Marcus Stone.

Oh dear, how foolish she was! What did she expect?

She disrobed and donned a dressing gown; then, armed

with a sponge-bag and towel, she crept timidly down the

passage to the bathroom, after closing her bedroom door

and turning out the light. The gay bathroom cheered her.

She wallowed luxuriously in the hot water, regarding

her slim legs with quiet satisfaction. And for the first

time since leaving home there came to her a pleasant

moment—a sense of enjoyment in her adventure. After

all, it was rather an adventure, and her life had been

peculiarly devoid of it. What queer lives some people

must live, travelling about, having experiences! How old

was she ? Not really old—not by any means. Forty-two?

Forty-three ? She had shut herself up so. She hardly ever

regarded the potentialities of age. As the world went,

she was a well-preserved woman for her age. A life of

self-abnegation, simple living, healthy walking and fresh

air had kept her younger than these hurrying, pampered

city people.

Love ? yes, once when she was a young girl…he

was a schoolmaster, a most estimable kind gentleman.

They were never engaged—not actually, but it was a

kind of understood thing. For three years it went on,

this pleasant understanding and friendship. He was so

gentle, so distinguished and considerate. She would have

been happy to have continued in this strain forever.

But there was something lacking. Stephen had curious

restless lapses. From the physical aspect of marriage she

shrunk—yes, even with Stephen, who was gentleness and

kindness itself. And then one day…one day he went

away—vanished, and never returned. They told her he had

married one of the country girls—a girl who used to work

in Mrs Forbes’ dairy—not a very nice girl, she feared, one

of these fast, pretty, foolish women. Heigho ! well, she had

lived that down, destructive as the blow appeared at the

time. One lives everything down in time. There is always

 

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