consciouswhispers2929 - Tumblr blog

consciouswhispers2929 · 5 years

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You Never Told Me That This Was The Last Time...

Martin stood at his bedroom door staring at the two beds that were placed on either side of the room. One on the left for him and one on the right for his brother George. It was just the two of them ever since they were kids. Martin was 19, George was 20. Martin's bed was with a thick blue bed cover that was thick enough to be a blanket as well because of the design. He had his favourite gray bed sheets on a queen size bed. Two thick pillows, dark brown head board that was simple in its design. Rectangular with two small rectangular spaces on either sides of the head board. He had a night stand on his the right hand side of the bed which was small, and it had only one drawer and a bigger space underneath for his lotions, deodorant and cologne. He used to keep his wallet in his drawer and his smartphone on the night stand itself, right in the middle. Next to it on the right corner of the night stand was a long lamp that could bend to any direction he wanted it to. Martin used to like pointing it to the bed to read his books. Having the perfect arrangement in his sides of the room was part of his OCD. Just near the door was the shared and vast table where they used to do their homework together ever since their childhood. That's where George would help Martin with his homework. On the left hand side of Martin's bed was the long stretch they knew to be their cupboard. Martin had his side for his clothes, George had his on the right side. In the middle there was a space for the flatscreen LG smart TV and a compartment underneath for the decoder and under that their Play Station. They always bought a new one when it got out because their father was rich, so they could.Over to the right side was George's personal space. George had a green bed cover with the same fabric and design as Martin's but he had dark blue bed sheets and two pillows. Also a queen sizes bed, same head board design. He also had a night stand but on his left side of the bad cause the head boards were on either side of the walls with the foot of each bed directly opposite to one another. George was laying in his bed with the remote in his right hand, flipping channels. He settled on the crime channel. He was in a white shirt and gray boxers with checked blue boxes on them. He had white socks and his jeans were on the floor next to his shoes. They both had mats next to where their beds, same white colour for uniform. That's where they would place their house shoes.

George turned his head and acknowledged Martin standing at the door. George had brown eyes but was chocolate brown with no facial hair. He had fake dreads for a hairdo and a boxed forehead. He had thick eyebrows but well shaped. He had long eyelashes for a guy but they complimented his eyes. He had a long face and pronounced cheek bones just like Martin cause they both looked like their dad. But each of them had a hint of their mother's characteristics. Martin had his mother's dimples and George the thick eyebrows. George flashed a smile when his eyes met with Martin's who was now walking towards his bed and laid in it."I hope you haven't spoiled the toilet cause I was planning to take a shower." George said. Martin shrugged and sat back with his back on the head board. "When you have to go you have to go, man." Martin replied while blushing with some embarrassment."I knew it." George laughed and sat up to cross his knees and returned his attention to the TV cause there was another development in the case he was watching. Martin lifted his right hand and showing his palm replying, "It's not like you've never taken a dump in your life. Mwanzo you the way your dumps are like lethal reactions?!!" and he gave a sly wink. George laughed and said, "Kwenda."They both started watching the show. They were concentrating on the case of the lady who was found dead in hour house as they had a list of suspects based on the chain of events with the deceased's fights with the neighbour because the neighbour is the one who found her. The deceased lady had been dead a week. Martin turned his dark eyes on the bed and remarked, "It must really have sucked for this mama to have died and decomposed for a week before the neighbour had found her. It's like she died like an animal.""Me I think the neighbour did it cause they were always seen when they were fighting." George responded but his eyes were fixed on the screen. Martin started rubbing his rouged face and picked up his phone to check the messages that were coming in on Facebook. He wasn't always an active member online because he always believed in the meaningful face to face human interaction. Something that no social media platform could imitate. This was his time to be online cause he had just finished his A levels and he was free as a bird. He was studying at GEMS which was relatively new and he was just waiting for his results to be accepted in the University of Melbourne, Australia. George was in the middle of a gap year, taking his time before he did a serious degree in Architecture just like their father. Martin wanted to do sports medicine and it was always his dream to be an athlete's doctor or a sports team doctor, which inspired him to pick medicine as a degree once he got to uni. Even if they were both sharp minds, George had a habit of picking on his younger brother simply because he was younger. They both had muscular build like athletes because they were also fit for sports and loved watching football."Wewe, it's 18:30 has the match started?" asked Martin who was an Arsenal fan, even though they weren't playing high profile games anymore like the Champions League."Your team is still useless. I don't know why you like watching them. You know we're gonna win." George replied teasingly with a bit of a chuckle. George was a Chelsea fan. But Martin never wavered. He was more of an emotional think than George. But he was still a logical thinker. George was the opposite; a logical thinker who was still somewhat in touch with his emotions.

George switch the channel to super sport 3. It was Arsenal versus Chelsea. The game had just started. There was complete silence in the room for the 15 minutes that the commentators were introducing the line ups for each team, making last minute remarks and predictions for the game. Both teams were on form in their last 5 matches. Arsenal qualified for Europa and Chelsea was doing better because they were sitting at number 4 in the premier league table. This was a big premier league match."You think Liverpool's gonna win the league? The way they're always messing up at the last minute? Me I don't want City to take it." Martin commented while staring at George who was still glued to the screen cause I was thinking about the line up and formation of his team. Martin started fiddling with his phone and then returned his gaze to the screen just before kick off. George could tell from his periphery that Martin felt snubbed, so he gave Martin a serious look and said, "I don't think they can screw this this time around like the other seasons. Otherwise Klopp will definitely get sacked."George pinched his nose and then sniffed because he could feel a sneeze coming. He had hay fever.The watched the game for a few minutes and it seemed like an evenly matched game with equal possession. No real threats to goal were made from either team cause their defences were doing a good job so far, 35 minutes in. Martin sat upright with his legs crossed just like George. They had habits that rubbed off on each other. George increased the volume and adjusted the screen mode to enhance the colours of the screen to watch the match more clearly. He changed the audio to cinema mode and it activated the speakers on the sides. There was a sub-woofer at the bottom and now the game was loud enough to make their room feel like they were in that very football stadium. Then after a couple more minutes, it seemed as though Chelsea were really making a threat towards the Gunner's goal. Arsenal sat back in defence and the red shirts were everywhere. But Chelsea was in control now, the sudden change in possession showed their dominance this early in the game. George smiled and tilted his head and said, "What did I tell you. Now your guys just have to sit back for long enough to make a mistake and there will definitely be a goal in the first half.""You just wait for the counter." Martin assured with a confident smile. For the last remaining minutes of the first half, there were counters from the Arsenal side and the game resembled a ping pong match with the ball mostly staying in the midfield while not staying in each other's Ds long enough to build a solid play. And that's how the first half seemed like it was meant to be. The commentators kept commenting about the transfer window. They discussed a possible departure of Arsenal's star midfielder Mesut Özil, and they were brainstorming about some of the clubs he could go to to keep his career intact. Eventually, the game reached halftime and they were passively watching the commercials while commenting here and there about the teams and their first half performance.

"Can you imagine being a doctor on your favourite team? As in seeing the players everyday and earning tickets for the perfect seat to watch the game? I'd probably sit with theplayers, like the subs." Martin was thinking out loud and he was day dreaming the thought of that becoming his reality one day. George let out a smirk and replied, "Eh... that's not something I would want to do even though I loved my team. Okay... if it was about watching the matches live, I'd definitely do that, but that's about as much commitment I'll be making as a fan." then he smiled. Martin suddenly lit up and added enthusiastically, "We should go to England together one day and watch at least one match. Aussie only have rugby going for them. They don't get to fully appreciate football the way we do.""Well, it's not like Kenya's doing any better with their premier league. The British just rubbed off on us." George pointed out. They watched the halftime analysis coming to a close with a little bit of senseless commercials about phone carriers and data plans. A little about Car insurance companies and winter sale of SUVs. And then, the unthinkable happened... the lights went. That's definitely something they weren't expecting, and no sports fan would ever want that to happen. They both let out a sigh at the same time. George slapped his right palm on his face asking, "Aww, man. What are the odds?" and Martin was in silent agreement.Martin's face was focused on the fabric and patters of his bed while he was rubbing his bare toes. Then he said softly, "I don't know if I wanna go.""Where?" George asked because it peaked his curiosity."Aussie," Martin replied, "I know we were supposed to end up in Melbourne together to make living and accommodation easier. And I know people call me smart and all, but I don't know whether I'll make it being in the country for the first time on my own. I mean, you've travelled a lot like that trip you made after A levels. But what if I fail the first year of medicine? I'll just become another statistic.""Lots of people flunk out of uni regardless of what course they're studying, but I don't think you'll be one of them, that I'm sure of. Medicine is obviously hard but you have tobelieve in your intelligence and yourself. Otherwise you won't have a very good time there." said George in a solemn tone. He fidgeted a bit and then added, "I know you're supposed to depend on me as your older brother but some day you're gonna have to do some of these things on your own because one day, someone else will look up to you and depend on you. And you have to be ready for that."And he was right. Martin had a lot of good things going for him. He had the whole package of an ideal millenial of his time. Intelligence, looks which George had too and the determination that fueled his hunger for knowledge. That's why he was always reading so much. They were both readers but Martin was more studious. And reading was a habitthat was instilled in them by their parents, Boris and Linda Scott. A rare surname in Kenya but synonymous with Luos. Their parents always advised them on the importance of searching for knowledge because they themselves were very successful. Which explains the reason why the two brothers were born and lived in comfort, the best that money could buy. The house they were living in was designed by their father Boris decades ago, but it looked timeless. He made sure he imported majority of the materials that went intothe building of that house. It was the envy of their neighbours' average houses. They had 4 bedrooms inclusive of the masters bedroom. It consisted oft he masters bedroom which looked like a presidential suite of a 5 star hotel, Jacuzzi and everything. There was always a spare room which was converted into Boris' office. The third one was saved for their sister Stacy who Linda was expecting. So the parents thought it would be better for the boys to share a room and the only girl to have her own for privacy. Boris made his big break when he was contracted to design the new Tollo Hotel near the CBD. He met Linda when she was one of the chefs who was supposed to work at the said hotel. She became a house wife after they married because they had enough, but she always wanted to go back to be productive.

Since George and Martin weren't so far apart and there was only a year between them, they learned to be best friends. They were dressed the same as kids and they did everything together, even when they were getting into trouble. George was particularly protective of Martin in school to stop him from being bullied. And they were never bothered by the deafening sound of silence because they were never that talkative, these two.Martin snapped out of his daydream and felt something rubbing his right shoulder, but he couldn't see anything there. He felt it again and saw nothing, again. Then he noticed a bright light piercing the tinted French windows. He heard the echo of a woman, faintly in the background saying, "I think he's waking up."There was a blurr and he opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was a nurse standing on his right side with a yellow sponge. She was wearing blue scrubs and there was a tag with her name on her left breast saying Melinda. He scanned the room and noticed he wasn't in his bed. He was in a hospital bed that was adjusted to keep him upright for the bath the nurse Melinda was performing on him. There was one large window on his left hand side of the room and it had a mesh to stop the mosquitoes coming in at night but still givingMartin fresh air. The chills that were entering the room suggested it was mid morning. The sun kissed his skin but it wasn't hot enough to keep him warm. There were two black chairs right under the window for visitors who would come and see their patients. He looked straight ahead and noticed a door ajar and it led to what looked like a bathroom and toilet. Melinda gave him a warm smile and said, "Welcome back. We almost lost you there. You're a lucky kid.""What?""You're in Karengatta hospital. Do you know who you are?" she asked and gave him time to absorb the state which he just woke up to."Yes.""Good," she congratulated him, "What's the last thing that you remember?"He was silent and overwhelmed. Noticing the confusion in his facial expression, she excused herself to go get the doctor. 5 minutes later, his uncle Daniel, Boris, Linda and the doctor walked in. Linda locked eyes with Martin and hers were immediately filled with tears but she was smiling. "Oh thank you God!" she cried and rushed to his left side blocking him from the sun and breaking the wind that was coming in. She was light skinned. She had dark eyes just like Martin. She was wearing a stylish cream top with pink rose patterns.her coat was mustard as well as her frilled skirt which reached just below the knee. She wore cream flats because she needed to wear comfortably for a 6 month pregnant woman.She had a pearl necklace and bracelet to match. Her slender fingers stroked Martin's forehead as he looked across the room and remembered his father and Uncle Daniel were there. They were standing beside each other. His father was with a serious face as always, but not so serious to hide his relief that his son was awake. Boris was dark chocolate. He had distinguished white hair and a receding hairline. His hair was always shaved, short enough to hide the receding hairline. He kept a moustache that was stained with a few gray hairs, and took care of it's length but he had to shave the whole beard because it was always growing wildly and rapidly. He was tall with an average build, not too muscular but his age showed. He wore a white t shirt and a turquoise tie, no coat, he hated coats and only wore them when he was going in for an important meeting. He had a Breitling luxury watch on his right hand and loved luxury watches for the novelty of it."Looks like you came around just in time." he said, "We were almost giving up on you."Linda laughed, still tearing up and staring in wonder over the miracle of Martin finally being awake. From his father's statement, Martin was putting the pieces together and thought he had been out for a while and they were probably going to pull the plug.Uncle Daniel stepped forward and took slow steps towards Martin and began explaining to him what happened. "You're in our hospital Martin because you had an accident. You and George were in the Lexus and George lost control of the wheel veering you off the Lenana road hitting the trees. I think the car was skidding because of the wet road cause it was raining that night. The oncoming vehicle was a lorry with bright lights that must have blinded George and that's how you went off the road. You jumped straight through the windshield and hit the trees. The car's been written off."This was Daniel Scott's hospital and he was the leading surgeon there. But when he heard about Martin's case, he made sure that Martin got round the clock care. He would check on him everyday and send various specialists to tend to his needs while he was in a coma. His mother Linda would visit everyday and talk to him hoping he could hear and remember everything once he woke up. She never gave up on him. The night before he woke up the three of them talked to the top doctors of the hospital and they were debating whether they should pull the plug. Linda vehemently opposed it and Boris didn't want to argue because she was Martin's next of kin. They'd agreed to wait one more day and do more tests for brain activity and they were supposed to make a decision in 24 hours. Now Martin was awake, struggling to recollect the last moments before he ended up in a hospital bed with all these wounds. The morphine started wearing off and he noticed he was scarred in many places. Now is when he was aware that his face had cuts and bruises because of the impact of the windshield Daniel said he broke through. The third doctor was doctor Steven Onyancha, the leading specialist on brain injuries who was assigned to this case by uncle Daniel because Daniel couldn't operate on family. He had frame-less glasses and was very dark with a symmetrical beard. He was also bald and was wearing a white coat and green scrubs.

"Don't stress yourself if you can't remember everything because this is common in cases such as yours." said the doctor with a deep voice. "Your memory will come back eventually but not immediately. Just give yourself time. Your family can help you remember and offer you the social support you need at this time."Martin remembered the white lights of the lorry before veering off the road and remembered George driving. So he asked, "What about George though? Can I see him?"Silence pervaded the room and he was wondering why everyone kept quiet. It didn't take long for Linda to march out of the room bursting into tears. This alarmed Martin because he became confused. "It's okay Steve, we'll take it from here." said Boris, to which the doctor nodded and left the room with the nurse. Daniel sat down on the chair closest to the bed. He leaned in and clasped his hands together, as if he was planning to say something sensitive. Boris walked to the window and leaned his back on the wall next to it. Quiet. Arms crossed looking down on the ground. George, Martin thought. Something happened to George."Martin, you've been in a coma for a little over a month now. You barely survived." uncle Daniel explained. "Where's George?" Martin insisted. He looked at his father who was avoiding his eyes now. Then he stared back at Daniel who said this in the softest manner, "The car on the drivers seat was crushed beyond recognition because of the roll. George was stabbed by the metal of the car and bled out. He died on the impact."He died on the impact. Those words kept ringing in Martin's mind. He was so shocked and dazed that he forgot anyone else that was in the room when he entered a trance. He remembered he and George dressing to leave the house. Then he remembered stealing the car with George to go to a party without permission. He remembered the party and having too much to drink with hazy memories about what could have happened that night."You already buried him?""Yes." his father answered.There was silence for at least 20 minutes. Martin had more questions than answers now. The whole time he was talking to George he was dreaming but he wasn't so sure that it was real because it felt real in most parts. Now he's woken up to hear that George is dead. As he replayed the dream in his head, he could remember the words that George told him in their room. "I know you're supposed to depend on me as your older brother but some day you're gonna have to do some of these things on your own because one day, someone else will look up to you and depend on you. And you have to be ready for that."

Who the hell was he talking to?

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consciouswhispers2929 · 5 years

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The Irony of Life

"Thank God it's Friday!" Shouted Maggie as she punched her left fist in the air. She had a smile of relief on her face which pronounced her beauty. She had the deepest dimples on both of her cheeks and she had maroon lipstick with lip gloss on top. her lips weren't too fat but not small either, just the right size to compliment her small dark eyes. She wasn't light skinned but she wasn't dark either. She was brown like a doughnut. Her nose was small but round. Her cheeks were red because she always had make up on. Presentation meant everything to her, it's what her mother taught her ever since she was a little girl. Looking her best was part of her obsessive compulsive personality because she was always concerned about making a lasting first impression. She had her new weave going on from the hours she sat getting it done and she always bought human hair, no synthetics. This hairdo suited her more than the last one she had. Again, presentation meant everything. She had removed her light scarf cause it was hot outside, so she was left with a stylish white top that she got from a killer sale just two weeks ago. It's amazing how much time, money and energy she would spend on buying the perfect clothes. She never really liked repeating clothes cause she could afford that level of extravagance. These are probably the reasons why she was poached to work for a leading advertising agency in Nairobi. To put her in a summary, she always knew how to present herself. She wore a grey pencil skirt with purple stripes and a small slit at the back, reaching just above the knees. She was bow legged but she didn't care. And she had flat open shoes with a distinctively African design. Of course she never had any hair under her armpits, presentation was everything, remember? Apart from looking a certain way, she was also very particular about the way she smelled. She had a collection of limited edition perfumes and was wearing one today. God forbid she'd walk the streets of Nairobi to find another woman smelling like her too.

"I don't even know where this energy of yours is coming from," Bruce sighed, "I've sat down for so long in this seat yani mpaka my ass cheeks are wet."Basically, he didn't care anymore when he was that tired and wanted to go home. And by home I don't mean an the actual house where his parents lived because he couldn't stand their energy. So he used uni as a reason for getting out of the house to "open his eyes" a bit. His accommodation was the best that money could buy cause he was in the dorms. He could use the meal though, it was a good fast food joint they were in at the moment. It just opened a couple of months ago but they were doing well for a new start up business. Pepinos usually attracted the younger generation. He was 23 and Maggie was 20. They were waiting for Halima who was coming into town from her parents pharmacy in the Westlands branch, so you can probably guess what she was studying. As they both heard the stomping of footsteps climbing up the stairs Bruce and Maggie both gave the exact reaction of surprise of glancing at the metal staircase, curious to know whether it was Halima. And as sure as day it was. As Halima was climbing up the stairs, Bruce returned his eyes to the large chicken tikka pizza they had ordered and were planning to eat together. Maggie flashed a smile at Halima and went to her bad to remove her phone to check for any messages on What's App. She was constantly preoccupied with online presence regardless of what platform she was surfing. Bruce did a quick glance at Maggie, curious to know what she was reading and then returned his eyes to Halima who was now approaching their table that was one of the three tables close to the staircase. He had a long face and pronounced cheek bones. He was one of those annoying few who could eat anything he wanted and never get fat. He always used to dress like a hippie and today was no different. You could always tell what he was feeling on whatever day just because of the way he chose to dress. He shaved a week ago but the facial hair was partially growing back. His hair was thick and he loved afros but it couldn't grow too long, he just never shaved his hair, even when it was too hot. He kept a pink comb or any bright coloured comb in the back pocket of his jeans, just in case the girls were messing with his fro again. He had a habit of always taking shots with the comb in his hair. Maybe it was his fear that he would one day go bald like his uncle, the worst kind of baldness comes from his dad's side. He takes after his dad. Bruce had an amiable appearance, you could never find anyone who hated him. As he stretched out his right hand with a welcoming gesture to Halima, Halima sighed as she dropped her bag on the table.

"If you took any longer I was gonna take your pieces walahi." Bruce joked. "I won't leave this place until you buy me a meal." she challenged, "Ati you're telling me I've walked all that way from the stage and I eat nothing when I come here. You're joking with me."Maggie laughed and returned her attention to the two. "How come you took so long? The stage isn't that far.""Some jinga got caught stealing at archives." her eyes popped, "I left them chasing him huyo jamaa ako lucky, I think he hepad. Mwanzo he looked like he doesn't shower. Eh bana that nigga looked rough, skin and bones. You're not catching that nigga." They all laughed. It's a hard knock life."Woiye.. Okay, maybe he just needed something to eat." suggested Maggie. She was always about equality. She believed that everyone deserved to have an equal chance to live a meaningful and fulfilling life even though that wasn't the reality for many.Halima tucked herself into her seat next to Maggie as Maggie and her eyes were level now. "What do you expect when there are no jobs?"Halima suddenly frowned as if she was shocked by the statement and sort of shook her head gesturing disagreement. She lifted her right hand and opened her mouth, paused and as she was tapping the table she gently remarked, "The government can't give jobs to everyone. They can appoint some people but they cannot appoint more than say 800,000 people. What the government needs to do is to give opportunities for people's businesses to thrive. That way more people will be employed in the long term because of the expansion of these businesses. The government can't give everybody jobs. I mean, does that mean that I can start stealing now and blame it on the government? That's not a valid excuse or decent source of income to sustain your livelihood.""i'm just trying to play the devil's advocate for this guy, because it seems that no one ever empathises with the situation of a thief - hear me out..." Maggie replied while raising both her hands at both Bruce and Halima because that comment clearly triggered them. Maggie placed her smartphone on the table and was playing around with it as she was trying to explain herself. She knew she had to come up with a solid defence to support that statement."Some of these people who are stealing don't know how else to make a meaningful income to feed their loved ones. Some of them aren't properly educated and if they're educated they can't be employed. They come from rough neighbourhoods where all that makes sense to them is they have to do whatever it takes to survive. I'm a marketer, Halima you're a pharmacist, you work in your parents business. Bruce is a writer. You realise the fact that we've reached uni and we're almost done is something a majority of the poor can only dream about. Even if they were willing they're not able. A majority of the working class are in jobs they never wanted but have to work in so they can bring food to the table. I guess what I'm asking is, what advice would you give the poor? Because it seems like poor people are blamed for being poor, and yet when they were born, they simply found themselves as being poor."

Halima was silent as if she was contemplating her next response. Bruce suddenly jerked in his seat and leaned in saying, "I think the problem here is that those who can do something for man like the one you just met Halima, either do nothing or cause more damage than good. The question that Maggie is asking needs a deeper reflection on our individual moral compass and current societal problem. Look... I hate politics and if you ask me we are headed to anarchy because that seems to be a system that would be best suited for the typical African but that's not what I was driving at. I choose to be apathetic because I'm aware of my potential and limitations. My goal in life regardless of what circumstances befall me, is to make a positive change in the environment that I live in - in my own way. Shakespeare knew what he was saying when he said that there is nothing neither good or bad but thinking makes it so. But it has to start with having the conversation. And that is, do we know what is moral or immoral anymore when there are so many gray areas?" Bruce asked while his eyes were bouncing between them with a serious look of concern on his face. And he had a valid point because technically speaking, everyone thinks they have an idea of how a moral life should be lived. Everyone creates gray areas around such matter when it affects a certain area of personal individual inclinations. Halima picked up her first slice of pizza and took a small bite. Then while she was flinging it in her hand, you could tell she was trying to chew it as fast as possible to give her sentiments. She said, "You know, it's easy to empathise with a thief when it has nothing to do with you. But sympathising with one is another thing all together. You already know the guy stole because he honestly thought he had no other means of making a living." she murmured and swallowed, then took a sip of the soda she had poured from that litre of coke they bought for the three of them. "The only reason why we would sympathise with this man is because we would want remorse too if we were forced to go to those lengths to survive. But when we are the ones he would be stealing from... even if he was just trying to survive, it would be a whole other scenario in our minds. One that blocks us from feeling remorse for the very same person or even someone like him."

Bruce looked down at the table with a smile of agreement. Maggie put her right and bony elbow on the table, letting out a huge sigh. "It just sucks that the only time when human beings care about such a person is when they are directly affected yet they never do anything to help the person. Because I'm sure that when we leave this table, the guy still has the same problems and people just like him. The solution will always be elusive for as long as no one wants to have the conversation." she said while spinning her phone with her left hand. For a few seconds there was a piercing silence because the reality of that statement hit home. Then after a long pause, Halima adjusted her bright gray hijab and placed her hand on Maggie's left to stop the phone from spinning. "Have you reached out to my dad yet about the advertisements in Parklands? I haven't seen him since morning cause I was in the Lavi branch today." she asked Maggie, trying to change the subject at what appeared to be a dead end to that conversation."He just wanted to know about the rebranding?" Maggie asked while she took a sip of her coke, "I need time but I have his number."Bruce lit up and sat back in his chair, "You marketers think you have creativity but you'll never have a way with words like a true linguist.""There's a reason why writers don't make money my friend," she replied, "all that writing wouldn't be necessary if you people just learned to get straight to the point.""Yeah, you clearly don't have an appreciation for art." he laughed and noticed Halima give a sly smile to Maggie."There's nothing wrong with preferring movies over books. Saves the hassle of reading for like a month and you know the way I'm a slow reader." she frowned."It's not a crime. Just open your mind." Halima commented, "Life is a story of loops and webs. The loops are when history repeats itself. The webs are what connects us to one another. Life is about creating the perfect story.""Exactly!" Bruce exclaimed while pointing at Halima, "You can't just put it in some 2 hour movie, sometimes it doesn't do justice."Halima shrugged. Maggie pushed the cup she was sipping aside as if to say she was full. She put her phone in her bag, stood up and added, "I don't know what you people are sniffing, but I have to hand go back to ngara and pick the key to the house. I'm going home this weekend, no way in hell I was gonna was gonna wash all that laundry.""Millenials." Bruce teased, to which both Halima and Maggie answered, "You're a millennial." and they all laughed. Maggie picked her bad and left.

After stopping by at her hostel in ngara, Maggie was just about to leave the house with her handbag and what appeared to be a bag full of laundry. She locked her gate and proceeded to walk towards the stage. It was just after seven and the sun had already set. She was strolling but cautiously scanning her surroundings in case people were up to mischief since it was getting darker and darker. The only lights near the stage were the new lights on the road and houses nearby that were slowly lighting up as every home was easing their way into the night time. A totally different time for a totally different reality in Nairobi. She was weaving through the pedestrians that were all busy going somewhere. Some were walking in her direction headed for the stage home, when she noticed a stranger bumped into her in a manner that seemed deliberate. Instinct made her check her right arm where she was carrying her bag. She forgot to zip her handbag cause she left in a hurry."Shit!" she noticed her phone was missing. "Shit!" she said more loudly this time and looked back at a guy who started walking more briskly and that turned into a jog as he rushed to cross the road. A skinny man with a simple blue shirt and black jeans. As the big buses started rushing to enter town through globe round about, at least three of them zoomed by before she could get another look, still rustling through her bag. He was gone. It was then that she remembered that the only reason we would sympathise with a thief is because we would want some remorse too if we were forced to go through those lengths to survive. Halima's words were ringing in her ears, "But when we are the ones he would be stealing from... even if he was just trying to survive, it would be a whole other scenario in our minds. One that blocks us from feeling remorse for the very same person or even someone like him."Maggie shook her head, laughed in disbelief, clicked her tongue and said, "Are you fucking serious?"

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consciouswhispers2929 · 5 years

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The boardroom is now in session

This was a defining moment.

She always thought about committing suicide because she always wanted to leave the world on her own terms. But she wasn’t really living by her own terms, so how could she die on her own terms, if she felt like she had no other choice but to kill herself? Maybe it was the idea she had in her mind that if she decides how to go, she can still have some sort of control over her life which was already in too much disarray. I mean, where was she gonna start? She’s already lost her mind. Her writing has gone to shit and she’s hit a brick wall with the writer’s block. Her livelihood and only source of income doesn’t seem like so much fun anymore. She’s watched everything she’s ever worked for slip away. Her helplessness was like a piercing thorn of venom, slowly eating away at any normalcy left in her life that could give her even a shred of hope in the future.

The voices in her head had a life of their own and they demanded to be heard, and felt. They were an extension of herself in an altered state of consciousness that only made sense to her because she knew what she’d done. She promised that this was the last time.

“That’s what you said before.” They chuckled. They knew exactly how to put her in a paralysing trance where she would have to relive her most painful memories over and over again like a loop. Because they wanted her to suffer. And they wanted her to know why she was suffering.

“Why can’t you just let it go?” she shouted back at them as if she could see them but in her mind’s eye, “I just wanted to be more creative yet you’ve robbed me of a life.”

“The only life we robbed was what you gave us,” they replied, “Isn’t this what you always wanted? To be different? Special? That feeling of rebirth? We gave it to you. You weren’t too happy about where you were in life when we met you. You looked like you could use a friend. You should be thanking us instead of acting like it was never fun. I mean, are you sure you even want us to leave?”

Are you even sure that you wanted us to leave?... That question pierced through her very core because she knew exactly what they meant. She couldn’t have any friends so she made them whether or not she realised when she was doing it. Suddenly she didn’t feel so alone. The only problem was that each voice had a life and mind of their own because of the power she gave them. It seemed like a good idea at the time, she just didn’t realise the consequences that would follow her later on. Now they don’t want to leave and honestly they can’t. So many drugs were in her system from the weed to the prescription meds she needed to feel sane. Once the brain had imbalanced chemicals she was set to be a patient for life. None of this ever occurred to her when she first started making these “friends” she calls the “boardroom”. She got so carried away that she couldn’t even calculate how many they were, which made it even hard to control them because they now felt like familiar strangers, heavily invested in her.

There were many elements of nature versus nurture that could have led to this scenario. All she knew for sure was that she’s stuck in this trance for life, but some days would be better than others. There’s just no guarantee of how she would wake up every morning and that was the scariest part that troubled her the most.

“You needed me just as much as I needed you!” she screamed. And it was true.

“But you’re afraid to need us because you never knew you did until we came. You don’t get to regret after how long this has been going on. So don’t act like you never knew the consequences.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck us? Fuck YOU. While you were busy victimising yourself, we had to be complicit to some of your crimes. Or did you forget some of the fucked up shit that you’ve done? You’re just afraid of seeing true self. That’s why we’re here. To show it to you.”

She peered down from the ledge of the building. That’s a long drop right there.She’d die the moment she hit the ground. Processing death usually hit her in waves of fear and terror. She just needed to have power one last time.It’s just that she’d die wondering whether she really controlled herself or they did. Technically, they don’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to. She just has a hard time making serious life decisions.

“First of all, you’ve been threatening to do this for months, so we know you don’t have the balls-”

“Fuck you!”

“You are being HYSTERICAL right now! Look at yourself. Where exactly do you think this is going?” they snapped.

The tears in her eyes were blinding her vision. She could literally feel the blood coursing through her veins, all the way to the brain until there was a rhythmic pumping sound. The sound of her palpitations in her heart. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But she definitely didn’t wanna die. She just wanted a way out cause the world wasn’t so nice anymore. She’d been standing there debating for hours. The cold was penetrating her clothes and her face felt like ice. However she wanted to leave this world, her best bet was to do it in the night where no one would see her or stop her from taking the final jump. They’d distracted her long enough she had to do a countdown to turn the tables.

“Fuck it. 10.... 9...”

“You’re bluffing.” they smirked.

“8...”

“We know what you’re doing and it’s not working.” they remarked, half believing. I mean she was a loose cannon from the word go. Sometimes there was no telling what she would do next.

“Ss... seven...” she was sobbing so much her nose was stuffed and she sniffed back the tears. Her throat was aching so much it hurt when she swallowed. Her lips were wet because she kept salivating so she would lick them and it continued to hurt every time she swallowed... which just made her cry all the more.

“YOU DON’T GET TO DICTATE THE TERMS HERE!” They yelled. They always used to do that on the rare occasions that they wanted to keep her in check. This is what they needed to do to call her bluff. They couldn’t lose her now.

“6...” she was hyperventilating and taking shallow breaths. Shit... this could all end right now and she knew. The ending never mattered unless she followed through.

“5...” she cooed like a baby as the waterworks came back after constantly wiping her tears, looking down the ledge, estimating the drop down. No cars. No witnesses... wait...little foot traffic, but no one ever looks up anyway. No one would know how she got there. And once she was dead, decades from now this wouldn’t even matter cause she would no longer be remembered.

The voices started laughing and discussing indistinctly amongst themselves, then returned to her. “You seriously want us to believe that it’s game over now? Now... of all the times when you always plan everything, every detail in your life? No one commits suicide on an impulse, Anna!”

The phone started ringing. It was her mother. She probably wanted to know what time she’d be home. Funny, to her family it was just another day out of the house. For her it was gonna be the end of her life.

“4...”

“Answer the fucking phone, Anna! You were supposed to be home an hour ago.” they mocked her. This was clearly power play for them. The more helpless she was the more determined she became. Three numbers left.

“3...”

“I promise you, you’re gonna laugh at yourself when you look back at this moment. Marks for the theatrics, we didn’t know you had it in you.”

“2...”

Her face went blank. She was absorbing the moment. The moment where she finally knew she was going to die.

Pause.

“We had a good run didn’t we?” they whispered softly also sobbing. It was a good run with all the mixed emotions in between. 2 was good bye.

Silence.

“1.”

Jump.

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