Nothing could ever dim from my memory the calmness of that cool afternoon. It was right after my second lesson when my Uncle Frank came to whisk me from boarding school.
“Oroife, Your uncle is here to see you”. My teacher; Miss Okere called.
With a huge smile spreading across my face, I popped out of my seat in my timberland boots and walked out like I was about to miss my flight. Miss Okere gazed after me with sad eyes but I was too over the moon to notice.

When I got out, My Uncle Frank was standing by his wife; my favourite aunt.  I ran as fast as my legs would let, to give her a bear hug. That was when I noticed that they had come with a Soldier escort. My innocent mind was too lost in excitement to worry about the soldier. I jumped into the car, and in seconds my aunt was feeding me with as many cookies and candies that my body would allow. I ate so much that I slept off; forgetting to ask why I was taken home unexpectedly.
I woke up to the cry of a baby. I was heading to my aunt’s room to ask whose baby that was when I saw a number of people in the living room, crying and shaking their heads.
 *Did they find a baby in a dumpster? *

I thought, as I went to find my aunt. She was in the kitchen making tea.

“Aunty what’s happening?” I asked

“Oh you are awake.”

“Yes. The cry of the baby woke me up” I said twisting my face in displeasure.

“Sorry dear. Babies can be loud.” she smiled sadly then asked  “do you want some tea?”

“No thank you ma. So whose baby is crying?” she stayed quiet as if she was giving my question a moment of silence, then she spoke

“That’s your brother”. My eyes lit up again
“Mummy is back?” I squealed and began to run out. She pulled me back gently

“Your mummy is not really back.”  I looked at her, my mind lost in a sea of confusion.  “Your dad went to get your mum and new baby brother from the Airport” she looked at me forlornly before saying her next words “they had a fatal accident. Miraculously, your baby brother survived”.

My innocent mind couldn’t grasp the idea that my beautiful mum was gone, I started to shiver then opened my mouth to let out a primal scream. My drew me close, holding me in her arms as if that would make things better.
I never got over my parents death but I learnt to live with their absence.

I christened my brother Ifeobi (love of parents). Very poetic; I know. I grew up loving my brother so much that I was convinced he was the reason I still had breath in my lungs. I felt like he was a message from our parents. Their one final gift to me before they left the land of mortals.

* * *

Right now, I’m in the United States of America because….Do I really want to write about this? Well, I’ve heard that writing takes some load off so here I go…

After my parents death, I spent so many nights soaking my pillow with hot tears. On those nights my aunt would come in and wrap me in her warm arms.

But this one night, she wasn’t there to offer the warmth of her comfort.  She was away on Pilgrimage to Jerusalem and this is how my horror began.
Uncle Frank chose to step into her shoes that night’ offering me faux warmth and comfort but the moment I began to doze off, I felt his hands in my underpants and I knew that was the last time I’d feel my innocence.  I was only 13 but that night became the first of many, I wept like I
had lost my life. My clothes were drenched in tears, I forgot I was bleeding. My eyes felt like a tumor. I could only breathe with my heart, it needed air.  I had nowhere to go. He was all the family I knew. He always seemed helpless whenever he came to me. I  couldn’t tell aunty; I didn’t want anything to jeopardize my her marriage so I kept mum. Cold days and
colder nights rolled by and I knew I was losing a part of me, my sanity.

And  although my parents christened me  Oroife (the thing about love) because they had me  long before they got married and they could foresee what a beautiful young woman I would be, I changed my name to Charlotte,  something easier for my American friends. Even with my parents long gone, I have everything any young girl can ever want, lovely clothes, good shoes, access to money. They left enough wealth to last me and my brother a lifetime and I’m glad Uncle never kept it from us. But all these could never repair my damaged emotions.

I’ve met a few friends here in the states but I miss Ifeobi so much, I hardly comb my hair. I’m leading my class in school as a law student. It’s where I pump all my energy. A discipline I chose because one day, I’ll reveal who Uncle Frank truly is, and I will persecute him.

My Baby brother will also become a soldier, and I’ll make sure he wields the gun that snuffs life out of my uncle at his execution. Perfect! Isn’t it?
I won’t ever get married, Uncle Frank ruined any form of attachment for me and I hope my brother saves himself from a world of hurt and doesn’t get married either. The only love that exists in the entire world is the one between me and Oroife; every other love is claptrap.
Oh I must tell you, I have a neighbour, I know loves me; He has never said hello but I know he wants to. I see it in his eyes. I have written all about him here (

I’m calling the police; I just left my neighbour in a pool of blood.  Help! I don’t know what’s wrong with him.

By Oyindamola @TheTailor and Seyi @sunkit1


They were in love; the universe had drawn them together like magnet to steel. Kate was happy with fate for this true match. All her life, she had never known what Love really was; her mind had never been able to grasp its possibilities until she met Danny.

That night, their first night together, the pleasure she felt when his lips met hers was supernal. The feel of his skin against hers made her heart melt like ice on water.  He felt so good between her legs; she was convinced it was love. Best of all, she did not have her strange longings when he made love to her.

Her dopamine brainstorm was utterly satisfactory when they both reached great height and came back to earth, and she did not doubt his words when he collapsed on her and said

“I love you”.

The next morning, the smell of waffles…

View original post 1,098 more words

As tall as the heavens,
Body hotter than hell.
Eyes like a skyline of beauty. A man built to perfection.Heart purer than snow,
A god in a man’s custome,
So tender so sweet
He knelt before me, uncased the ring.Amidst tears I catch breathe,
A little hesitation,
Fantasies turned reality,
Future unseen glares at me.He makes love like music,
Like angels,
Gently plucking harp strings. Filling my world with bliss.

He was paris romantic.
Each french kiss felt like heaven.
A pianist when he touches,
Moans so sonorous.

Years passed, bond unsevered.
His ways got more magical.
Till tragedy struck.
Death came without a knock.

In the morgue all gored,
Lifeless and pale.
I weep oceans,
Praying for a miracle.

Pain that sears deep.
Widowed by the ripper,
Reduced by gloom a whimp.
Excruciating memories ceases my breathe.

Afront the tombstone
Roses in palm, eyes swollen.
I call your name bitterly.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.
😥 😥

one afternoon, i reviled the pain death brings to such a beautiful thing as love. it broke my heart, i picked my phone and asked my friend Lekan (@_l3kan on twitter) to write me something; and he wrote the piece above. Pain and death, two inevitable things in life, one we want, the other we fear and try to elude.

Love and Death

on twitter i am @sunkit1

Hi Readers,

This is an entry by a friend. She read the purges on my blog and sent something in. I hope you feel this pierce your soul like it did mine.


There’s so much words hidden in the silence.. With every breath, every sigh, so much to say.. Too many secrets hidden behind those pretty eyes… Let out the purge. It’s about to quench your soul…

Tell them about the pain inside, they never will understand. They are used to judging, jumping into conclusions like they have an idea what it means to be you. Tell them about your little secret(s), maybe, just maybe it’ll lighten your heart and give them room to understand.

I did it. I killed him. And I feel no sense of remorse for my actions. I was a child of eight, and I loved uncle Pete. He said he was mom’s brother, little did I know that he was one of her numerous quickies. Ice cream! Oh how I loved him for that. His little way of melting my heart with every taste of the sweet thing. Uncle, what is that? Stop, mom says I should cover up when strangers are around. “My sweet darling, you’re growing up so fast. I remember when I could lift you up with one finger and toss you around…” (Laughing) oh uncle.. You really could do that? “Yes of course.. Come’re let me show you little thing..” Uncle stop! Uncle.. Uncle.. Aaahhhhh!!! And that was it.. Life drifting away.. Light fading from my very eyes.. Uncle dear uncle…

“Don’t you dare tell your mother”, he said. Night after night I was left to bear the pain, oh how much it hurt. “It’ll get better”, he would say. Little did I know that I was being molested and that the pain would hurt me for life.. Life? Is this life? I am like a walking corpse, because 15 years down the line, I’m yet to know what it means to live. Dear uncle gets uglier everyday. And pretty me is bared from making any friends let alone male friends. Male friends.. I hate their guts. I’ve even grown to hate my brother. Maybe he’ll be like the devil I know someday, who knows…

As I watch him breath his last, I feel within me the deepest sense of satisfaction. He deserves it. I’ve waited so long for this. How did he get to find me? I left for school, leaving no trace behind. How did he hack me down? the devil… “Hey darl.. Missed me?” Hell yeah! I did.. Come on in.. He felt so at home, sitting on my couch, sipping my wine.. Technically, he’s here to continue from where he last left off.. But I’m not the same anymore. He can’t win this time. “Come here, baby, sit on uncle’s laps… I’ve missed you, you know. But did you think I’d not find you? I’ve got my eyes on you girl. Anyway, I forgive you. Gimme a kiss…” Here we go again.. Daisy.. The bottle.. Do it! (Scream… Silence…) Dear uncle, this is for 15 useless years of my life.. Rot in hell…

Tell them about the person you’ve become, how little you think of life, how you’ve had to take care of your own life because people who own the responsibility have left you to your fate.. How you’ve had to run for your life, because the whole world has come crumbling down.. Life is worthless.. My heart is heavy.. Nothing’s real. It’s all a farce. I’m ready to walk in my own shadows, that way, none cares about my existence.. But watch your back.! I’ll come into your life like thick black smoke, and disappear like the mist, leaving a lasting impression, one you will never forget if you live to tell your story.

I never asked for this… But everyone must pay!

This is her purge, not mine… Remember, There’s so much words hidden in my silence.. With every breath, every sigh, so much to say.. Too many secrets hidden behind my pretty eyes… Letting out my purge will take more than just the tap of my fingers on a key pad.. Try harder!

by: Emrysmilla (Voices)… Silence…

she blogs at and she is @emrysmilla202 on twitter

yours truly @sunkit1 on twitter


Every evening at 6:30, I leave the darkness of my room. I go to my windowpane and stare at Allen. His building is opposite mine, which means I can see him when he goes out and comes in. I also watch him every Wednesday morning when he goes to jog. He leaves his house at 7 am and gets back between 7:25 and 7:30 am. I love the way his muscles flex with beads of sweat dancing on his face while he runs in his sleeveless Versace t-shirt.

I am the apple of his eyes. I know this because every time he passes, he looks up at my window, knowing that I would be there and then he gives me a curvy smile; a smile that leaves my heart reeling.

I am a depressed 21 year old who hates to see the dawn of a new day. I am sure that natural disasters are better than I am. Nobody loves me.

They say God in heaven loves me. If he truly does, why does he make me see a new day? Why wouldn’t he take my life? I know peace comes in death. The world hates me.

But, I am confident of the love of Allen. He treasures me like diamonds. Our hearts beat as one and I am the reason he lives.

I look forward to the day we’ll finally say our first words to each other and share our first kiss.

The thought of Allen gives me hope. Sometimes I get so depressed, I start to cut myself with the sharpest knife in my kitchen drawer but then I remember that one-day Allen and I will be together and we will ride on the wings of the earth. And then I feel so much better like ice on a bruise.

Once Allen and myself are together, I would stop cutting myself because his love would fill my hunger and longing for pain.

Last week, Allen came home with a lady who had skinny legs, he took her into his house. I was so angry I promised never to talk to him or watch him again; but true love never dies.

For days I was lost in the stream of my thoughts, trying to decipher what I had done wrong that he would cheat on me. On the third day, the pieces came together like a puzzle. Allen wanted us to move to the next stage in our relationship, he was tired of the smiles and he wanted us to have our fist conversation; our first kiss, and our first touch.

I knew I had to make the next move; Allen could be so shy, real men could be shy.

I gave myself a three days beauty treatment before I chose to go see him. I had to look beautiful on our first kiss and touch.

Yesterday, I went to see him.

I was dressed in a white Givenchy knee length dress so I could look like a mini bride. I also had my knife in my purse; I was going to show it to Allen so he would understand me and love me with my weakness.

I pressed my fingers to his door bell. He opened the door; I could see surprise and love laced on his face.

‘Hi Allen’ I said grinning.

‘Hi” he replied, I heard surprise in his voice.

I stood at his door, waiting like a perfect lady for him to invite me in, he did.

“come on in’ he said smiling. My heart soared with that smile as I walked in.

‘Nice place’ I said looking around.

‘Oh! Thanks. Do you want something to drink?’

That question fueled my happiness; I had joy like a river. I was sure once again that Allen loved me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t even let me into his house or ask me if I wanted something to drink.

‘Oh no I’m fine. Just come sit beside me so we can talk’ I said

‘I’ll just sit over here’ he replied. Sitting on the couch opposite mine.

I understood him; he didn’t want to seem too forward.

‘Okay’ I said smiling again. I couldn’t remember the  last time I had smiled that much in a day.

‘So what can I do for you?’ Allen asked

I giggled. I found it exciting that he wanted me to make all the moves.

‘You can do anything for me Allen’

I lifted myself off his couch and walked up to him, I bent looking like the number seven; I put my face close enough to his’ so I could feel his breath on me. I placed my hands on his face to feel its smoothness. I didn’t get enough chance to savor the moment. Allen jumped off the couch suddenly like a toad in a thunderstorm.

‘What are you doing? I don’t even know your name’ he said.

‘Oh baby…  I can’t believe you don’t know my name… with all the affection we share. But that’s fine– my name is Charlotte.’

‘What affection?’ he asked.

Allen’s attitude was beginning to piss me off; I was at the edge of my cliff. I knew women liked to play hard to get but I never knew the same for men. I guess I never got the memo.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘What about the smiles we share everyday? I know you love me Allen and I love you too, there is no need for us to hide it any longer.’

‘What are you talking about? I’m sorry dear if I passed the wrong messages with my smiles. I bear no kind of affection for you.’

I held my stomach, his words had hit me like a punch to my gut. I was enraged; I knew he was acting up because of the lady with skinny legs.

‘ You can’t leave me Allen’ I moved close to him and tried to touch him. He pushed me off

‘You need to leave now’ he said

I won’t live without you. I thought to myself.

I ran to my purse and grabbed my knife. Blinded by rage I began to punch him with the knife as I screamed. Then I noticed his body had gone limp; he had stopped moving.

‘Allen! Allen! Allen!’ I called him, he wouldn’t respond.

I accepted my fate then, he didn’t love me enough to stay. I went back to my apartment, shut my windows, curled into my dark world, and began to cut myself deeper than I used to.

By Oluwaseyi Oluyole @sunkit1 on twitter.

Journey Through Eternity Wall Photo

Waging war against tears.
The borderline
The enemy shall cross not,so I thought.
Preacher persists with peace talks.
The night stole my bliss.

My heart hollow,sorrow hovers around.
The pain sunk in teeth and stays clasped.
The fire within,finds friendly it’s doom.
How does he not give in? He withers within.
Death; a hound profound in gloom,in theft of life

Life kept concise,hassled off land of the living.
In wavelength with the dead,leaving behind ripples of regret.
Rhetoric questions reasoned,riffing response received;
Sympathizers with answers to my loud thoughts.
Reality reckons my loss,wreath shall grace your abode soon.

While you lay lifeless in bed,your child in his cot.
You gave to him life and left me void of support.
Shed blood on him and bled to death.
He throws tantrum,craving milk from your breast.
A boy denied his first love from the onset.

Six feet beneath the surface,all earthly possession surrendered.
Crying cousins witnessing your confinement to a coffin.
Growing giddy gathering gravel,shoving aside sense;
Wailing while women weep like men.
Rest in peace dear wife,it hurts to see death do us part.

Ex- ghoul is male, a Poet, a Wizard and Genius. he blogs at

Follow him on twitter @_l3kan



Perfect Love

I stood there,
Eyes fixated on nothing,
My mind taking it all in.
They did not matter,
The children,
Nothing at all,
No one at all.
The waves came crashing on me,
I stood still,

Then it all came,
The mistakes,
The past.
As the sun rose steady behind the ocean,
The light exposed it all.
Scars became open wounds again,
The past became the present,
My mistakes became my life.
The waves came crashing in again,
But this time was different,
My tear glands becoming one with the ocean,
One tear for who I used to be,
Another for all the pain,
Then another for all those who ever left,
More for the walls I kept up high.
They kept coming for the times words cut me deeper than razors did,
And the times I walked with my head up high.
The times I didn’t care – or maybe did,
The times she hurt me,
The times she acted like I was nothing,
And the times she enticed me only for what she wanted.
The realization that I was but a tool,
The realization that people always leave,
And people are not who they seem they are.
Then they came in rivulets knowing all this didn’t matter.
The sun was up now,
The light came with a warmth, a Presence.
The tears rushed with a knowing that,
I was loved regardless.
Perfect love healed me,
This love gave me strength,
Made a beauty out of my scars,
And showed me a future void of pain.

The waves came crashing in again,
But now I ran along with the children by my side,
I laughed a genuine laugh,
I turned my back on the ocean a different person.
I was the person who came with all my baggage,
It was I who came with all my dirt.
But His grace had stripped me naked,
And His love had purged me clean.

follow  @Aunty_HotStuff on Twitter

God ♥ Family ♥ Dami ♥ Friends ♥ Blogging ♥ Art♥. I am a light in this dark world. the answer to someone’s prayers.

Blogs at:


Manickal’s Purge


I actually intended to tell a fictitious tale. And then I realized I’d told too many. Maybe this time, I just have to be real. Reveal a bit about my true self. LOL. I always tell myself that maybe one day I’ll find that person who I can pour out myself too. Even shed tears a little while doing that. Release the weight that has burdened me for so long. Let myself go. Oh well, what the heck…

The first time I contemplated committing suicide, I was 13 years old. I was in boarding school. The story behind it makes me laugh till this day. I had been the usual quiet guy in boarding school, talking only when I needed to. Spoke only when I was spoken to and the person speaking to me needed a reply. I never talked to girls. Even when they tried speaking to me, I would shy away from them. I liked being on my own, so I could think dark thoughts and draw a few of them on whatever plain pages I could find. I never liked to offend people. I wanted people to either be indifferent about me or not care about my existence at all. As long as they were not angry at me for something I might have or not have done, I was cool. I wasn’t a friend to many of my mates, neither was I to any of my seniors. And they’re the last folks in boarding school I wanted to offend. I’d seen what they did to students who offended them. It had put great fear in my heart and mind. I didn’t want to be the one exexperiencing such a grueling form of punishment.

A day came when we had to go for lunch. In the dining hall were different tables. Each table had eight students assigned to them for the week. And out of the eight students, one of them was a senior. The school had begun four years before my arrival. The most senior class was the Senior Secondary class 1. Or SS1. The senior on my table was nicknamed Tega by his colleagues. It had nothing to do with his real name. He just loved to be called Tega. Tega hadn’t come for lunch that afternoon, so I assumed Tega was not hungry, so I shared the food among seven of us that were present. That assumption was wrong, and almost cost me my life. Tega came into the dining hall with some of his senior pals when we were just about through with the food and looked into the pot. The pot was empty. Tega’s face became one that I, at that time, identified with pure evil. His face twisted into a malevolent scowl as he asked who the person was that had shared the food. All eyes settled on me, but no one spoke. Tega didn’t need a deity to tell him who the perpetrator of such great travesty was. I had stopped chewing a while back when he walked in and there was still food on my plate. Tega walked up to me, stared down at me for a few seconds and the next thing I saw was his right hand slapping me across the face and throwing me off the seat. I fell on the floor and I didn’t want to get up. There was a ringing in my right ear. I felt I’d gone deaf in that ear. But Tega wasn’t done with me, he dragged me by my day-uniform and brought my face to his. I could smell the terror emanating from him. He looked like the type that would kill me and throw my body over the school fence. But students were not allowed to kill other students. They could only punish them. And I knew Tega. He was a sadist. And the School’s assistant senior prefect.

The rest of my day was a horrible one. I had lain under Tega’s bed until it was time for dinner. And the dinner wasn’t even mine. For my portion belonged to Tega. The prefect allowed me to just one meal a day for the next week. Breakfast. Lunch and dinner was his to do what he pleased with. A few mates who were compassionate shared some of their food with me. It was a terrible time for me. The hours of starvation were coupled with hours of punishment. Washed his sheets. Fetched him water. Made his bed. Did his weekly school chores. All because of one stupid assumption. Some of my mates told me to report him to the school authorities or to my guardian then. But I had seen such happen before. Students who had been badly maltreated had reported their oppressors to the school. The school had disciplined the Senior involved, but that only angered them more. And made them do worse. We could all remember the tale of Gbenga, who had left the school with a broken neck, and never returned. A senior student had pushed him out of a first floor window, and was expelled. I couldn’t report Tega. I was scared of him. I just wanted the whole ordeal to be over. I even prayed about it. Maybe God heard, maybe He didn’t. He could have prevented what happened next if He did, yes?

It was a Friday morning, we were about to have breakfast. Everybody liked this particular meal. Even I. I was so happy my oppressor could allow me have breakfast. Just as I was about to take a bite into the Agege bread and fried egg, Tega holds me by the neck and tells me to drop it. My whole body went weak. From fear, my mien transformed to anger. That day, I decided I’d had enough. I’d missed lunch and dinner for six days because of that guy. I’d begged for scraps from people I wouldn’t even talk to. I’d suffered numerous punishments and embarrassments all for his sake. And just when I was about to enjoy a meal I loved so much he tells me to drop it? I stood up, looked him in the eye and told him no. He looked shocked at my reply. He tried to hit me but I blocked his hand with mine and pushed him away. Tega never thought a JSS2 student could stand up to him. He was flabbergasted. He drew his belt and was about to use it on me before the school Guardian halted him. He happened to be in the dining hall at that particular time. He had been watching our little scuffle. He ordered Tega out of the dining hall and told him to match to his quarters and await punishment. My bravery drained from me quickly. Tega’s last scowl at me before he left felt like it was death staring at me. But I knew I wasn’t going to die. I knew I was going to suffer so much I wish I was dead. Tega couldn’t kill me, but he would make want to die.

For the next few hours, I kept thinking about what Tega would do to me when he returned from the Guardian’s place. I couldn’t think of anything else but every possible form of punishment that the sadist could think up and use it upon me. My body shivered everytime I thought of one. All my mates pitied me. They even talked about how they saw the Guardian punishing Tega, him crying and begging for forgiveness. The Guardian had learned about Tega’s oppression of me for the past week. He was meting out the deserved punishment for such inhumanity. The thought of Tega begging for crying and begging for forgiveness made tears flow from my eyes at the prospect of what he would do to me when he returned. I wanted to run somewhere and hide forever. I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. I wanted my parents to come and take me far, far away from this school.

I wanted to die.

I had heard about suicide before. I had images in my head of people hanging from ropes around their necks. I remembered Judas. I wondered how I could do that. I thought about other ways to kill myself. I also had once heard about a girl who had slit her wrists with a blade. I went and bought a blade, and I opened it and brought it to my wrists. I imagined how it would be to die and leave this cursed world. I didn’t have any friends. Nobody cared. And Tega would be the least to care when he returned from the guardian’s quarters. There really was no reason to live. Nobody, except my parents, would miss me. And it would serve them right for bringing me to that school which I had hated. I looked at the blade and looked at my wrists. I was the only one in the hostel when the other students were in class. I would be dead when they returned and there would be a huge uproar in the school. After a while though, I realized I didn’t have the heart for it. I dropped the blade and closed my eyes. I found resolve in myself to accept whatever was coming. Let Tega have his way…

Tega returned. And the first thing he did was call me to his corner. He was lying on his bed and looking into emptiness. I stood there looking at him. The whole dormitory was quiet. They waited for what was coming next. Tega apologized to me, there and then. He told me he was truly sorry for what he did. He told me he would never do it again. He asked me to forgive him. I couldn’t believe my ears, and tears came to my eyes. The only thing I could say was “okay”  and he permitted me to leave. I went to my bed and I thanked God. I laughed a little. I was relieved. I didn’t suffer, and I didn’t die.

I’m Michael, known as @ManickaL on twitter. I’m a mel-phleg personality I think. I’m a socially-awkward, very quiet type of guy who writes for fun. Its kind of a hobby for me. I blog at and (personal blog)

For those of us who went to boarding school, (original ones oo not the aje butter ones) We know what it can be like to be a short junior. That’s what the next purge is about. You will love it.

Right now, Yvonne enjoyed the purge concept so much, she wrote another piece 😀

Please send entries to loonpurge and hola me on twitter @sunkit1

Here we go…


Hello readers, every purge I’ve read so far was really interesting, deep and entertaining as well. Beautiful stories from beautiful minds. As for my purge today, I’ve had every reason to write about an exciting moment but what would be more exciting than talking about freedom.
I was watching the block buster movie World War Z sometime last week. I connected my laptop to the new LCD/LED TV my dad bought. The 54 inches gadget gave me a cinema feeling and I was really excited.
I slouched into the softest couch and ached to watch my one and only hero; Brad Pitt. He was incredible in Thor and Snow White and the Huntsman, I couldn’t wait to see him in World War Z. So the movie was actually divided into two halves and I had just started the second half when my eye lids began to close. Now this movie was far from boring, in fact it was action filled and scary at the same time but I just couldn’t help it, I dozed off on the couch.

I woke up almost immediately but I wasn’t in my living room anymore, I was sweating and breathing hard, dressed in a hospital robe, I still think it was a mental hospital robe. The atmosphere felt awkwardly tense. I wanted to get up and run then it dawned on me that my wrists and ankles were chained to the chair. I could swear I was petrified to my marrow.
“Help!” I screamed, “Somebody help me! Mummy, daddy, anyone! Please help, please” my scream had turned into a pitiful sob. I was in a room, it was dimly lit so I strained my eyes to observe the dark object before me, when I realized it was the LCD tv, it came on.

A hallway, a moderately wide hallway, also dimly lit with flickering bulb lights was shown on the screen.
“What is this?” I muttered as I struggled to pull my wrists out of the locked chains. I struggled and struggled, screamed and wailed to no avail.
Looking up to screen, I saw a door in the hallway with a bulb above it, No, that door wasn’t there the first time. It actually just appeared. Amidst my wondering and quiet sobs and struggles, the door knob turned and the lock clicked. There, a girl walked into the hallway; she was dressed in the same robe I was wearing, braids tied up in a loose bun, no jewelry or make-up, she was on bare feet. She looked tired, stressed out, eyes swollen like she had been weeping all her life. I stared at her face till I realized I was the girl on the screen. I stared at sixes and sevens, with no idea what I was doing in my tv.

I sat silent and lost for a minute or two and watched eagerly. I was now about to watch the scariest movie ever, with myself playing the lead actor.

(I would address the character on the screen with the first person pronoun)

So I walked down the hall slowly, looking left and right, mind off the rails, then I noticed a shadow in a corner by my right. The shadow became a visible human being, a young man I recognized. He still had that sinister smirk, the tattoos, the piercing, I remembered the pair of jeans and army green t-shirt. He was looking straight into my eyes.
“You bastard”, I muttered. I could hear a dialogue in my head,
“Leave me alone!” was a girl’s voice
“Shut your stupid mouth and stay still!” a guy replied.
Tears came down my cheeks almost immediately and I felt something moist wetting my gown, I looked down and noticed a dark red stain that appeared almost immediately. I gasped and looked up to where that young man was but he was gone. I tried screaming but couldn’t hear myself. I kept walking down like a wounded animal and noticed that more people appeared in the hallway. The first set of people I recognized were my boss and her randy fiance, they seemed to be chuckling and smiling. No, they were actually laughing at me. I rolled my eyes and looked away to another corner where I saw a group of three girls chattering, they looked at me at the same time and let out pretty loud laughter simultaneously. Oh, I hated those girls, they were once friends but betrayed me. I felt pain and anger well up inside of me. I walked down and saw more people, a man playing joker cards on a table, I took him to be the man that scammed me once. Oh that episode really hurt me and almost broke me. And there, the man I thought was mine was standing with his new girlfriend or fiancee I suppose. He still looked really trim, stylish and ever handsome with his beaming smile that could light a lady’s day. I heard another dialogue in my head,
“You make me a happy man, give me your innocence, that’s what I ask for” he sang. “Don’t play with my heart for I’ve never loved any other” I replied in a high pitched voice
“My only love, that is what you are, give me your innocence, let me love you more”
I cried hard as the voices faded. A set of twin boys of about 10 years of age with shaven heads approached me, they both wore white t-shirts with the phrase ‘BAD CHOICES’ boldly written on them in red ink. They got to where I was standing and started laughing with snort running out of their noses. I got so furious and upset, fell on my knees and buried my face in my laps and sobbed.

I didn’t hear anyone laughing anymore, I heard a door click open, I looked up and saw a lady walk in before me. She looked very confident, tall, beautiful and elegant. She wore a smile that could take one’s breath away. Funny enough, she looked exactly like me. She came to where I knelt and gave me her hand, she helped me up and gave me a can of petrol and put a lighter in my hand. She smiled at me and I immediately knew what she wanted me to do. I ran to the door I came through with the can in my hand and ran back to where I ran from, pouring the contents of the can every corner of the hall. I stood by her side and lit the lighter, everyone that appeared in the room earlier reappeared and were all giving me a stern look. I smiled even more and threw the lighter at them. I watched them burn and fade like ghosts or should I say memories.

I walked out of the door the lady came in from but she was gone. It was very bright outside and there was a cliff ahead. I stood at the edge of the cliff, closed my eyes and felt a heavy stone being lifted from my shoulders.

The TV went off immediately and I raised my head to reveal red eyes from prolonged weeping and a runny nose. The cuffs and chains broke off releasing my wrists and ankles. I got up and walked towards a door that was half open, it led outside. I walked to the same cliff I had seen in the movie, closed my eyes and let myself fall from it and into a river.

I jerked up from the couch and began to cough, checked my wrists and ankles hoping to see bruises and cuts from the excess struggling with the cuffs and chains. There was nothing there, it was all a dream. My World War Z had ended and the TV screen had gone blank.
“I can’t believe I was forced to watch myself get hurt by the past and memories from it” I said to myself as I lay on my bed thinking. I shut my eyelids hoping not to have such dream again.

I’m really glad I decided to get over my past, destroy the bad memories of being hurt so many times and move on to become the strong and confident person I should be. Every reader should that too.

It’s Yvonne again, the fashion designer who loves words. Remember to follow her on twitter @yvonne_evyluv

I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22 😉 … School work and my new job is swamping me, So sorry I was MIA, however its a special day today (i’m so tempted to blog Taylor Swift’s ’22’.) I tried not to hype this day and told people not to call me but just couldn’t help it. The love is too  much. One more thing, please after reading this purge, vote for N. Bassey’s etisalat story here: The story is worth all votes.

And finally, Follow me on twitter @sunkit1 and send your purges to *wink *wink
And this purge is deep. An hybrid of poetry and prose. Only Dami Can pull this off.
Few have seen the pain behind my pen,
None has ventured to ask why my hands quiver or my words shiver.
They see a story and ignore all that is shameful and gory,
I shall purge now and give the First of poets glory.

[Fiction or fact
I’ll leave you to figure that
Since I don’t know where to start.
I’ll start with the gloomy part]

“I was once the spawn of hell,
Tied in chains in the belly of hades.
All of my desires and wanton lusts
Held me bound all year round.
He that had power of death,
Frightened me, blinding me.
Darkness gorged my eyes out,
Or rather I should say I was born without eyes…”

I can’t remember when I met Christ definitively but I know that at one point in my journey I was a wastrel. Face-palmed by my mother, even my dad threatened to neuter me. Like the prodigal son I shoved my middle-finger in my father’s face and fled the homestead with my inheritance.

Let me tell you where I was. My lies were rarely few and far between. They were noxious and filthy. Driven my a need to impress my friends. My hands moved swiftly through purses. I was skilled, almost surgical. My eyes hungered for candy, what you call the lust of the eyes. I knew I had a problem when the plastic cleavage of a mannequin set me on fire with desire.

And the god of this world
Who ruled with the power of death,
That regent of sin
Blinded me and caused me to wander-lust

My name was Joseph yet my dreams were putrid infestations of the demonic sort. I couldn’t see beyond the sway of ‘her’ hips and the sultry outline of her lips. I didn’t wait for her to invite me in, I hurried to her door and gave her all of me.

I wore a cloak of sadness.
My voice was a distant croak – laden with lies and distorted truths.
I gathered to myself ladies,
And toyed with hearts like a petulant child.

You don’t know my story, or why all I can write is His story. Night after night I stood at doom’s edge, my feeble frame at the end of the precipice. Despair threatening to push me into the chasm. I was blind! I was deaf! I could neither see his grace shine so bright, nor hear his love speak so loud.

But He touched me… Me! A leper! I could quote a thousand scripture but the word was not in my heart. I was an invalid dressed in a slick tuxedo and smart shoes, yet scaly white beneath.

“Gentle Jesus meek and mild
A thundering Lion! Wise and wild
The lamb that takes away the world’s guilt
And with his blood washes all her filth
I was in hell and slave to sin
But in His blood I am redeemed”

Then I found him or rather He found me.
He touched me…
He told me: your sins are forgotten. In the midst of my sobbing, he held me up and embraced me. This is why I cry in worship.

I can’t remember when I met Him because now that I look back He was there all along. Even in my darkest night when I penned my suicide notes or piled a stack of pills to drown the voices in my head, He was there. This is why I know that I don’t need more grace or more love! For even in my sin He died for me.

My name is Joseph. I have no past for it is written in blood. I simply am for He is and as He is so am I in this world. follow on twitter @damilar3