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Sunday, August 25, 2013

The Kill -- Vanity

I love the simple things of life. Birds tweeting, butterflies sucking beautiful flowers even the sound of crickets at night. Nature plays a strong part in our behavioural pattern. People love to be called anything good forgetting that in each one of us lie the devil and the saint. We have the will to work more with one but don’t mean the other never surface. We act in a way we love not caring at that moment what people think and after, when we are called names, we reproach them and say they know us not and hate us. Failing to see the part we play in it.

Seated at my favourite corner in my favourite coffee shop, I watch people stroll in and out. Couples loving each other and some having a fight or two; I watch friends laugh over nothing and some, talking business. My mind drifts back to a place I dread to visit (I was not always the bitch-player you know). One with so much pain and anguish: Paul and I use to be the couple; everyone thought we would tie the nut even though we were still undergraduates in the university. I felt my world complete. Then I graduated and he had a carry-over and our love was carried over by cheat. On his part that is and I could not bring myself to accept the lies, more cheats, more lies, more pain.

My heart is frozen, Sealed in a cooler filled with ice that’ll never melt. Now, instead of love, lust is my favourite partner and the favourite past time. Sipped the last of my coffee and up, I go. Back in my apartment, I slip off my dress, slowly and seductively as if in a show. Even alone, I love to play. Naked, I walk in my fast seductive cat-like manner into the bathroom. Knob turns, shower flows. The coldness of the water sent a shiver down my spine. A smile grew on my face as I throw my head backwards and slowly turn it back to the front as my palms massage my body. A cold shower is God’s gift to stress, more pleasurable after a hot day than good sex. Under my duvet, still wet, I pick up my pen and start to write. I love to work but for a while now that has drained my soul hence my change of business and city to come work for Ernest; My best friend. He has been by side through it all – the pain from Paul, the crash of my Father’s empire, the death of my Father making me an orphan at my very old age of 32, my struggle to get it back on track and the success of succeeding. Now, I just want to be normal but normal never finds me. I have had my own share of breaking hearts but today, the only thing I love breaking are records. Dropped the pen on the table as I stroll completely naked to the kitchen to get a drink; a shot of Vodka, straight. Dingdong. I peeped and opened the door, walking back to my room. ‘Must you always answer the door naked?’ Ernest hissed. ‘It’s my house and I‘ll do whatever I like’. I replied. ‘Straight or on the rocks, serve yourself’. ‘you’re lucky you just like a guy to me if not maybe, just maybe’. I laughed as I went under the covers again. We talked about my business and how it’s doing in the market. We concluded that its best we sell now. Business over. ‘Why are you smiling to your Iphone, another babe?’ he laughed out loud. ‘I’m not you Gwen, It’s my wife and she just told me she made me my favourite meal’. ‘Oh...’ I responded ‘... her naked on the dinner table. I remember. Say hi to her when you get home.’ ‘I will. See you in the office tomorrow’. He placed a kiss on my forehead as usual and the loneliness crept in again as the door closes behind him.

Back in the comfort of my space, I reach out for the remote and tuned to my favourite cartoon channel. My blackberry vibrates from underneath my pillow. Him again, jeez, when will these men get it, Sex is no big deal anymore. I need something more...something stable and fun...sharing - like what Ernest has with his wife. I had played with this one’s heart. Made him feel I was in love just because I heard he was the biggest player in town; using and abusing girls and their hearts. He needed to be taught a lesson and that I dealt with, in my smooth killer fashion. Playing hard to get isn’t in vogue anymore. I met him at His favourite bar. I walked up to him oozing of my favourite womanity perfume. No man can resist the smell. ‘Nice perfume’ he called. ‘Buy me a drink’ I responded in my husky low tune looking straight, deep into his eyes, daring him. He smiled and gave the bar man the order as I called out for straight vodka, avoiding looking his way again. He knew the game well so, he wasn’t looking my way either. I took my drink and walked away to a lonely seat. I know he smiled at that instance, sensing the game. After a few minutes, he finished his drink and walked away. I also know, that he stood outside for a while, hoping I’ll follow him out, and share a kiss and then a bed but I sat stiff in my seat, sipping away and watching the match. He came back in, straight to the bar, got himself two glasses and came straight to my table. I smiled. Took my glass from him and starred back at the TV set. He sat quietly by my side. Confused on what to do I presume, trying to figure me out. ‘You new in town’ he said and I responded looking straight into his eyes ‘You can’t f**k me’ he smiled ‘Strong word’s for a lady and I had no such intention’. I laughed and looked at him, this time mild. ‘You know you want to. You are wondering to yourself who am I, how I’ll be in bed and if I’ll satisfy the desires you have always wanted from a wild girl’ he smiled back now laughing ‘You are trying to f**k with my mind, trying to put thoughts in them’ he laughed again. ‘Good night miss?’ he offered me his hand. I shook it ‘goodnight’ without offering my name. He laughed again, stood up and left.

2 days later, he was at my door step: My office of course. He offered to take me out for a drink and I obliged. We sat, chatted and had dinner after wards. He dropped me off at home and went his way without offering to come in. I didn’t offer either; we both knew the game and we playing it. We became drinking buddies after a while of waiting for who’ll fall. We met at the bar; 6:30pm every evening even on Sunday’s and had a drink or two. Sometimes, we went to watch a movie. All this, while I was scheming, playing the ‘I think I like you’ game. Modest and sweet: I grew on him without him knowing, letting go of all defence. We talked about everything from lovers to books, business to trips abroad. We were CLOSE. After 3months, I knew the time had come (yes, I can wait a year to make my kill). This faithful evening, I offered him dinner at my apartment. During dinner I wasn’t so chatty. Hardly looking into his eyes and pretending to jump anytime he comes close to me. He was genuinely confused this time but didn’t ask me any questions. As he took his leave, slowly walking towards the door, I backed him up against the wall and planted a hungry kiss on his lips. I pulled away slowly as I saw the shock on his face ‘sh*t’ was the only word he could mumble, looking deep into my eyes. I looked back, in a sober yet seductive way. This time, he grabbed me. Kissing hungrily as we moved - scattering the table, falling furniture’s and then I pushed him away and said ‘I can’t do this, I am sorry’. ‘WHAT!’ was his slow harsh response. ‘I don’t get, you kissed me’ ‘and I am sorry. Can you please leave now?’ I purred like a confused kitten. He left without a fuss. I smiled as I crawled naked into my bed, imagining what could have been, would have been. As I expected, his call came in. For a while he said nothing just breathing into the hand piece. The player on his side returned. ‘Come to my apartment now. Wear nothing under just a dress’. I smiled, got up and obeyed.

And that was his only night. Now, he calls, pings, send flowers, chocolates, vodka bottles and all. He’s sprung and I... the game killer (smiles). I have had my feel, I had planted the want in his head, dragged it out to his nerves and made sure his want is not satisfied and the mystery, not solved hence the continual want that he now believe, is love. Men never like to be played. They love to win always. She should be the one wanting me. She should be the one calling. Why is she forming she doesn’t want me? Why is she playing hard to get? She must fall? And so, the want is dragged on and on till finally, he gives up. Most often than not, they become softer and feel karma just played a fast one on them but Nitemi was not like them. He was a man that gets what he wants and now, what he wants, his 'Gwenivere' and that hunger is my VICTORY.

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