Prologue
CHARACTER
Carly Benedict
Charlie Benedict
Leonard Antonio
Patrick Benedict
Ben Antonio
Franklin Dexter
Eddy Bernard
Agnes Benedict
Gordon Popper
Mrs. Pauline
Christophine Drake
Judith Benedict
Graham Crane
Rick Warren
REMEMBER
With the little strength she had inside of her, she stood up and left the old woman without any more words. She proceeded into the kitchen and entered the dining room which led her to the living room. She approached the door majestically and held the door knob tight, she did not bother to look at the security mirror on the door; but chose to open the door instantly.
“Mr. Charlie?”
Carly held the door for the latter to enter; she glared at him as he made his way into the living room. Charlie entered the house expressionless, ignoring the figure that let him in.
“What a shocker,” Carly gestured him to sit down comfortably. Mr. Charlie Benedict made heed to what Carly said and sat down on one of the sofa that was made for a single sitter. He admired the well-furnished house, starting from the grey marbled floor to the hazy chandelier; the lustrous fittings and garlands that hung here and there on the fancy smooth wall were eye catching, and Charlie admired all the features in silence. Charlie Benedict was a very rich man; owning to the loot of his brother’s asset, but this very house of Ben Antonio caught him breathless, and he had decided that he is taking it too matter what.
Carly felt weird, she has never spoken with her father’s friend before; therefore, she could barely term the surprise visit a pleasurable one.
The young Carly closed the door gently behind her and walked to a seat adjacent to Charlie and settled down. She stared at the man in front of her, he seems tensed and mean altogether.
“What can I offer you, sir?” Carly said and fingered her hair_
“Nothing my dear,” Charlie said brusquely and settled his eyes on the young lady, “I am here for other sort of thing.”
Carly glared at the middle aged Benedict before her and wondered what on earth he was after, she knew that his mood was bad; so she kept a watchful eye on him.
“What sorts of other thing are you talking about? If I may ask,” Carly said to the man, but he ignored her.
Carly hated what the man did; ignoring her in her own house, what a rude way to approach a lady. She still suspects something bad within him, and she can’t help being alert.
“What about your father’s relatives?”
The young woman who didn’t know much of her family tree was left in total confusion as she stares into the ceiling trying hard to remember. When she could not arrive at any conclusion she stared back into Charlie’s eyes.
“I have no idea of what you are talking about, sir.”
Charlie let out a faint smile and began, choosing his word rudely and without concern.
“After your father’s death, it dawned on me that no one could help manage his little asset_”
Carly glared towards the talking man, trying hard to know which direction he was heading to.
“Good,” Charlie said, looking at the latter who sat just opposite him like someone who is having a good time in an amusement park. Carly could notice a little sweat forming on his brow, although the air conditioner was on and chilly.
“Don’t you get what I am saying, miss?”
“You haven’t said anything worth replying,” Carly shot at him.
Charlie knew how to handle the little rascal who is making fun of herself, if he could handle the likes of Patrick, his brother and even Antonio her foster father; what more? He leveled his gaze on her trying to get her upset but she was not the least worried or even scared of him. Charlie took his gaze away and thought perhaps he should poison her to death. Being a secret dealer, he normally carries poison where ever he was going and being a rich man, nobody had suspected him. He looked at Carly and chose to settle the issue with words.
“Have you forgotten the social trend?” Charlie smirked.
“What social trend?” Carly questioned.
“_that women have no right over their father’s property”
“And who believes in such blasphemy? Mr. Benedict.” Her pale face had already turned red, and she started to sniffle again. She could hear her heartbeat accelerating beyond measure.
“I owe you no explanation,” Charlie smirked and crossed his right leg against the left.
“This house you’re staying in,” Charlie glared around the house emphatically. “Had automatically become mine the moment that worthless fellow you call father stopped living, make sure you leave this house in peace as you came in.”
Carly felt her heart sinking deep down her belly, what on earth! She comforted herself and chose to speak once more, she had never spoken to her father’s friend one on one before, and their first wasn’t grand at all; she had seen it. She tried as much as possible to remain cool.
“Like you said sir, that I should leave this house,” Carly let out a mild smile. “And go where, if I may ask?”
“Get married or wherever,” Charlie rattled.
“Listen to yourself mister,” She stood up viciously. “Your close friend lost his life and your way of showing sympathy is to throw his daughter out of his house?”
“Listen young woman,” Charlie stood as well. “You aren’t his daughter; you are worse than the house help in this house.”
“Listen to me mister,” she said, addressing the surprised Charlie. “Fuck you, and fuck the social trend of a thing! Your pep talk can’t scare me, alright, get that into your head.”
She walked to the door and flung it open, without looking at the man, she yells at him tenderly_
“Leave my house!”
Benedict glared at the young woman; she is certainly a tough woman. She is really his niece, but the young woman didn’t know of it and the latter wouldn’t want her to know of it, less the whole thing will be a mess to him. He needed to get the Antonio’s mansion and possibly all his assets, then he will watch the young lady rot in poverty; or perhaps, by the time he is through doing what is in his mind, she might by then join her father in the grave.
His lips curved into a wicked smile. “You’re no longer considered a family young woman. You have three months and lest I forget, your father didn’t tell you how he became rich? It was based in agreement.” With that, he walked out of the door. Carly watched him enter his car, shouted at the security and drove out leaving trails on the hard floor.
In anger she slammed the door and slumped on the chair closest to her...
the sleeper’s judge
It was a bright morning; dews fell in torrents beside my thought, removing my focus from the attraction of life. My opportunity to grab the least justice left for me was again in blemish. Could the thought in my heart mean real? Will my anger congeal to nil? Won’t I be slashed with the swords of emotion…?
The little creeping smiles I always nurture wasn’t there when I sought it. Again, the tinge of fate relapsed in me; a bottomless hole was forging below my heart. Hundreds of fragile finger was pointing at me, my prime was caught in puddle and my crime was falsely addressed!
The jagged temper I bore diffused out of me and tears became my comfort. Pale as I am, bodies swerved across me without a notice or a wave. I was poised in the pocket of traitors; like a foolish novice. A thousand thought was running beneath my heart, loud and unheard. My very noble dress became a rag for the street, and my charming voice distorted with moans.
A very little and firm arm plunged towards me_ I took hold of it and followed it up to know the owner. Then, it dawned on me that I have taken the challenge of my chief traitor for a fight. Rejecting it will be more painful than a gladiator’s death.
Feebly, I lifted myself to stand erect; with my enemy looking, my legs shook suggesting that am too weak to rumble. A large long sword escaped towards me, coming in a full flight. I slumped down to the earth, so weak, and with much vigour; I peered at the sword that was pointing at me.
A sword clashed, and a sword fell in thud on my shackles followed by a rolling of head away from me. I lifted my eye and behold a dripping sword as large as anything pointing at me; again? I threw my gaze away, searching for nothing. Somebody bent over me and whispered ‘you are free.’
I plunged the fifth key into my shackles as fast as I could, trying to open it before my rescuer become annoyed about my laziness; but I swear, the key to the shackle was not in the bunch! How come? Little does it occur to me that am yet in another trouble?
I took hold of my shackles, with much effort; I shambled off into the woods. From thence, I gained a little freedom. Lo and behold, I was caught again in my little move for escape. I paraded my justice through my voiceless shout of innocence. But on the long run, I learned that I was sliding down thick rocks hidden; now, my joy had become a perambulating reverence.
To the citizens of the Earth…
…a man who fiddles with destinies will sure to have his own terminated. It does not matter what you say to others, what matters is how you feel after saying it. I believe life just don’t happen without a purpose; even those that had passed on did not just pass on without a purpose.
—uchechi uruaka
