PAROXYSMS (What is on my mind?)

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Chapter 9


I was inside a large rectangular room, surrounded by four bright white walls. The floor was covered with white sand and I was walking over it bare foot. The force of gravity acting on me made me feel weightless. The walls reflected out rays that gave spectrum of rainbow colors on the sand.

I walk towards of one of the rays, placing my palm below I watch it fall over it radiating circular rings of green light. I walk up to another one rear to the previous one stretching out my hand and this one gave out purple rings. As I walk up to the third one on the opposite wall the rays that fell on my palm gave out a sky blue circular rings. Soft wind blew in, brushing through my skin planting on their fragile touch. I was all alone in a tranquil enchanted room with bewitching lights.

I look around the room taking in a deep breath waiting for the voice but there was nothing. Thoughts of despair lingered at the back of my mind with rising questions of uncertainty. I sat down in despondency. As minutes pass by I find an extra ounce of hope draining out of me. Puddle of rainbow spectrums lay ahead of me. I slide my body to the nearest one, stretching out my arms I engrave in Owen’s name over the sand with my index finger. I soon wipe it away with my palms closing my eyes in anguish. My heart was aching in agony as I could feel the tears built up inside. A small drop fell from the corners onto the sand as I looked down there was a new engraving “Tell me”. I quickly brush away the tears gently touching over the engraved words. I look around and everything was uninterrupted. As I shift back my gaze at the sand there was now another new word engraved in front of me. My eyes widened as I mumbled “Logan”.

“Peel” she muttered.

There was a long pause.

“Like orange peel or Apple peel?” the voice chuckled.

“Peel Conwood” my expressions arid.

“A wood con?” It snarled.

“A magazine editor” my face tightened.

“I am just messing around, don’t mind me!” It whispered.

I bit my upper lip shrugging my shoulders. “Who are you?”

“We have so much to share Miss Conwood, but first tell me about Owen”

Tell him about Owen? I did not know where to start from or what exactly to tell him but I did know my body was aching to tell him everything from the very beginning and so I began.


Everyone thought being a Conwood was a blessing, the lavishing lifestyle with all the glitz and glamour. My parents were always busy but it did not matter because I was always with my grandmother. I remember being very fond of her and one day when I was seven, my parents told me she was not there with us anymore. For me it was so hard to believe, I slept every night telling myself she was not going to be around anymore. I felt so alone and detached. I even found it difficult making friends at school. Everyone would talk about so many things but I actually had nothing much to offer. My mother and father were business partners. They would spent hours discussing about new projects and lands. We had our own personal office on the second floor of our fifth floored building. A long hallway that led to a humongous living area with a twelve seated sofa, large rectangular table for accommodating twenty two people and a small bar across the corner of the room and it was guarded by a long black door on its entrance. I was not allowed much to peek inside. I went to school, came back, did my homework, watched TV, stayed indoors even though our indoors were more massive than any outdoors. This was pretty much the cycle of my monotonous life, a vicious cycle that continued for five years until the day god had finally smiled on me. I was sitting on the front porch when he walked in beside his father wearing a black tuxedo, hair brushed backwards. He was tall, skinny, brown skinned. I wondered why he was dressed like that. Maybe depicting his father seemed to be a good idea. His movement was robotic and he did not even bother to look at me. His queer gait and behavior evoked my interest. I was intrigued by him. I followed them, they were headed to the elevator. I watched them afar, concealing myself from their gaze hiding behind a wall. As they entered the elevator I came out. It halted on level two. I waited for the elevator to come down before I made my way up to the second floor. They entered the office loosely closing the door behind. I stood out peeking through the door gap as I watched them stand before my father who was seated on the sofa. I could not clearly see or hear them so I started pushing on the door leaning my body close against it and before I could realize I tripped over falling onto the ground. My body was half inside the room and half outside. I was so embarrassed, I rolled in shutting close my eyes. My father got up from the sofa and the man and his son quickly ran to help me get up. The first thing I noticed was his eyes. They were ocean blue and that is how we first met.


“Who were they?”

“The man was my father’s new bodyguard.”

“Why did he bring in his son?”

“Mr. Gray was from Bulgaria ...”

“Mr. Gray?”

“Owen’s father.”

“Oh! Then?”

I pause for a while before asking “How much do you want to know?”

“Every single detail.” he replied.


Owen’s father, Mr. Gray was a Bulgarian military officer. Owen was his only son. They had conceived him late and on birth his mother died of postpartum hemorrhage. All his life he had spent away from his family serving the nation but after her demise he did not want to go back leaving his only son behind. He quit his job and joined as a local gym trainer in Bulgaria before receiving an offer from the Conwoods. They flew to New York. That day Mr. Gray brought in Owen so that he could ask my father if he could help in his education and could allow him to stay. Before they could go along with their conversation I made quite a scene. My father had proposed to Mr. Gray that Owen could go to school with me perusing his education with all his fees being taken care of in return he simply had to be my personal bodyguard in disguise. This also included Mr. Gray training up Owen physically like any other bodyguard so he could have a strong physique. My father was a master at striking deals that had more profit for him than anyone. Given their circumstances Mr. Gray agreed, it was seemingly a good proposition for them too. They were given a room on the fifth floor.


The earth suddenly formed a whirlpool of quicksand sucking in the white sand particles. The force grew dragging me towards it. I dug my fingers deep into the sands, a futile effort of staying in position. The walls around me collapsed as the whirlpool grew into a massive dark hole and I felt a strong jerk before I opened my eyes. It was 8 AM in the morning and I was lying on the floor beside the wall covered in perspiration.

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