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A story written by STANLEY UMEZULIKE (PHONE: +2347060745771)

I looked into her eyes and whispered in her ears,”You wanna go someplace?”

Her face lit up, “Where?”

“A street away.”

“Okay.”

I took her hands and led her out of Club Vegas.

The one story concrete construction looked ugly at daylight. At night, it sparkles under the moonlights. We climbed the steps at the outer part of the building. We reached the top, and sat down at the solid concrete barrier.

Tiny cars streaked past in an endless drone. Sirens and faint scream of laughter punctuated the activity.

Everything was buzzing. Everything was alive.

“This is beautiful,” said Samantha.

“Yes it is,” I said.

“I mean this moment,” she said as she looked at me; her eyes, so beautiful. Suddenly, she looked down. It was so fast a reaction.

“What is on your mind dear?” I asked her.

She waited for a moment before she said, “Everything.”

I was quiet. I gave her time.

“Before we met, I was depressed. Everything happening in my life has been so wrong. Nothing was turning out the way I expected. I felt I should just end it all. My life sucks.”

Concerned, I intertwined my fingers with hers. She appears so perfect outside. What will be bothering a girl like this?

I looked into her hands. “Your life doesn’t suck my dear. You are beautiful; you are a good person.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said and looked away.

I held her face with both my hands and brought it back. “I can see it, I can feel it,” I said.

She was gazing at me, trying to understand something. Instantly tears began to drop from her eyes, “They said that I’m not good enough,” she said, her voice breaking down.

Her words touched me like fire. “Who told you dear? No one has the right to make you feel you are not good enough?”

“All my life, I wanted to be a model. When I graduated from the University at Johannesburg, I went to a modeling agency there and they said I’m not good enough.”

Oh! I brought out my white handkerchief and wiped her tears.

“And Zithembe too.”

“Who is Zithembe?”

“My fiancé. The one they are forcing me to marry. We are from the same Zulu tribe.”

“What did he say?”

“He always tells me that I was a failure. That I am ugly and not good enough for him.”

Her words were like hot water. I felt like if I see that guy right there, I will just punch his face.

“Why does he still want to marry you then?”

“Because I was betrothed to him at an early age. It’s this tradition at our side.”

“And your parents, do they know about how the guy has been treating you?”

“Yes, I used to tell them but they don’t care. My father will just shout at me and tell me not to tell anyone. My mum cares a little but she is afraid of my father. She is always quiet in the house. She doesn’t say her feeling. The whole thing pains her but there is nothing she can do.”

I was shocked. What a family. I found myself caring more and more about her. Tears dropped from my eyes. She noticed it and rested her head on my shoulders.

Then I remembered what she said earlier, I said into her ears, “You said before you met me. What has changed from then till now?”

She raised her head she gave me that look again. “A lot.I felt this peace of mind that I haven’t felt for a long time in my life. I am happy right now. I love this moment and I feel like it shouldn’t end.”

I was lost of words. I felt that electricity all over me. All the emotions I have been locking at the far side of my mind came rushing back up. I tilted my head, slowly, cautiously and leaned forward, pressing my mouth on hers. Her lips parted and we started kissing fiercely like wehave been waiting for this moment. Her lips trembled on mine. She put her hands on my head. I kissed her harder, driving my lips inside her mouth. I held her waist with my hands.Our kiss was so passionate. We couldn’t get enough of each other.I felt that connection. I felt so close to her. The realization that we have both crossed a big boundary overwhelmed me.

To Be Continued…

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