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Wicked Saints

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Many people are familiar with grief, but how to deal with it is broaching a different topic. Take Amahle for instance. Amahle is a 20-year-old lass who has suffered from loss but still is in denial about her sister’s death. Well, some aspects of it, one of them being the fact that she still doubts that her sister’s car crash was one with a suicide intent as the police had claimed. But with a corrupt system like theirs, it was more than satisfactory to believe that the law isn’t always precise. Then again, the situation isn’t as easy as it seems most of the time. Amahle still has to deal with the iniquities of the past and the rising present to see her future clearer. However, with toxic relationships, a broken family, painful secrets yet to be unleashed, and a knack for trusting all the wrong people, Amahle is about to realize that things aren’t always as they seem, even for her dead sister.

Drama / Romance
Age Rating:



Another shrill emanated from her mouth and another till it advanced to a- series of hideous sobs. Pretty girls are the foulest criers, so they said. The townsmen and women were therefore first- hand witnesses to the ingenuousness of this saying. Amahle’s grief was unbeknownst and incomprehensible to those who had little or no familiarity with loss. Massive ominous clouds descended low in the sky to gift her with the birth of incessant rainfall. Harsh rumbles of thunder blended dexterously with the unremitting precipitation accompanied by the strident whispers of the wind. The snapping of umbrellas as they opened, soft murmurs of relentless prayers and, the adequately loud voice of the priest as he led people in the procession were all out of focus for Amahle. Instead, her senses were all focused on the light squeaking that the casket made as it was lowered to the ground. The lower it went the greater her insanity grew. It was like a ticking bomb, as soon as it made it to the ground it was game over. She snapped. No one saw it coming as she ran towards the casket. Her brother tried to hold her back as she screamed, bit and, scratched anyone who was in her way. Many might have said that it was already too late for her sanity to be grounded but angst does bring out the worst in people. “Take me with you, Lesedi. I beg you, you’re the only person that understands me. Please Lesedi do not leave me like this.” She cried as her voice cracked at the end and finally gave in to her brother’s embrace. All she heard were harsh whispers and a few raindrops fall upon her skin before the darkness finally took her.

The picture on the mantel-piece told the same story everybody knew but if one looked closer, you could see the rapt look in her eyes. Her smile was deceptive to all and sundry apart from Amahle who compared her to a floating ship with beautiful lights on top but on fire underneath the waters. “Are you ready? It’s almost time,” Ruel announced while casually checking his wristwatch. Amahle pulled herself out of her reverie and turned to face him.

“Don’t give me that look, you know messed up on your own this time,” he stated simply.

“Why do I have to go, no better yet, why do I have to listen or obey whatever that man orders,” she snapped.

“Because he is still our father Amahle! Please do everyone a favor and stop being so immature, not everyone is as patient and tolerating like Lesedi.” Amahle’s taken aback expression was enough for Ruel to know he’d hit a sore spot.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to say tha-“

“ Well you just did, and next time before you open that trap you call a mouth to say nonsense about Lesedi, you can as well forget that we’re related. Oh and one more thing, remember that Lesedi was there for me and mama when you and that so-called father of yours were nowhere to be seen.”

“Hold up right there, don’t bring mama into this situation. Plus, I did not have a choice, nobody else could help father run the business,” barked an enraged Ruel.

“No Ruel, you had a choice, but you made the wrong decision, a selfish one. So please don’t come at me for poor life choices because unlike you I own up to them. Come to think of it, you should do some reflection cause at this point, I think only God can loan you salvation cause damn, your skeletons stink and I bet you know what exactly I’m talking about.” Amahle stated haughtily as she dragged her suitcases towards the front door. Ruel stood shell-shocked as his jumbled mind tried to find enlightenment of how she could have found out. He scratched his forehead and furrowed his brows, a habit he had developed anytime he was nervous or anxious. The starting of the engine took him out of his trance and instantaneously headed outside to join Amahle. With Amahle facing the window this was going to be one hell of a ride.

At around 10:30 a.m. Amahle was facing a large vintage- like entrance. From the looks of it, this was precisely the type of environment she wanted to evade. Safe to say, she’d given people hell and now she was burning in her own inferno. It was quite unfortunate really that no amount of coinage or prominence ever equalized colored people to whites. Even after years of slavery and oppression of people of color it still didn’t cross other racist minds that these people were still human, and up to date no amount of civilization has ever made up for this primeval way of thinking. Once she stepped in those gates, she knew this was the type of hell she wasn’t meant to rule especially when she realized that it was a privileged school. However, she knew deep down that racial profiling was not only for cops.

Ruel was no saint, he’d acknowledged that fact long ago. Then again, the number of faults he had, even started to make him reassess himself. The fact that he had bought a room for the night to cater to his selfish needs just proved Amahle’s point. He promised himself that this was the last time he was going to meet her. Finally, end it all, but all he wanted was one last taste. In his mind, he wasn’t asking for much. Then again, she wouldn’t have to find out till he’d gotten his way. Cruel much? Although according to Ruel’s reasoning, it was more of being strategic than self-regarding. When that sickly sweet perfume wafted through the air, he knew she had arrived. But that night, he did not only sleep with the fine lady, his best friend’s girl, his childhood friend but also messed up majorly. People make choices and they do have repercussions. It would only be a matter of time before the aftermath hits him, and he would realize that maybe he should have made some decisions more wisely and maybe even own up to his mistakes. Damn, Amahle was in his space again.

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