“There are no coincidences in life. What person that wandered in and out of your life was there for some purpose, even if they caused you harm. Sometimes, it doesn’t make sense the short periods of time we get with people, or the outcomes from their choices. However, if you turn it over to God he promises that you will see the big picture in the hereafter. Nothing is too small to be a mistake” – Shannon L Alder
I literally begged the yellow bone not to hurt me as I was as innocent as a dead lamb. I was shaking and sweating heavily. She produced a knife and went “if you make noise I will cut your head and uploaded the picture on Facebook. I want you to listen and do whatever I tell you. One little mistake you will be history”. I wanted to scream for Nwabisa to help me but the knife was too sharp and looked hungry for human blood. She looked at me for 3 minutes without uttering a word. She was looking directly at my pussy which was shaking with fear at that stage. She was like “so this is the pussy that made my man leave me and my kids? Let’s see if it’s gonna do the same when I perform an operation on it with this knife. Mmmmmh and that stomach? A caesarean scar would look very beautiful on that belly. Don’t panic, I won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure you experience minimal pain”. Tears started gathering in my eyes at that stage. I’m not a big fan of Daily Sun but I have read stories about wives slitting competition’s heads. I was shit scared and almost coloured water with products from my ass. I could see in her eyes that she meant every word. I closed my eyes and asked God to protect me. She laughed and told me “I doubt God knows you. He doesn’t take home wreckers seriously. Maybe you should ask your father satan to help you”. Before I could react she jumped into the bathtub without taking off her cheap clothes. She repeated that if I scream she would slit my throat like the way ISIS members do. She slowly grabbed my head and submerged it in water. I wanted to scream but water blocked my mouth.
“Sharon, are you trying to commit suicide? Sharon…. Sharon”. I felt a hand poking my neck. I managed to unarrest my head from the water and screamed so loud my mom probably heard me from Ga-Kgapane. All of a sudden I saw Nwabisa and some guy I’ve never seen before. Nwabisa went “were you having a daymare? You must stop watching horror movies”. She shouted to the nigger to leave. Nigger was feeding his eyes with the beach below my navel. Nwabisa asked if I was ok. I told her to leave me alone. I think too much drama and violence in my life led to that horror dream. I mean, a good writer like Mofenyi Malepe could write a top seller book about what happened in the past 10 days in my life. I wrapped myself in a towel and went to my bedroom. There was no blood on the floor but my mind could smell it. I tried to study but my mind was all over nje. I did what most of you do when you can’t study, I logged on Facebook. Lol dark girls I went to school with had suddenly become yellow bones on Facebook pictures. Re leboga filters and memeza. I’m still to see white women using filters to make them look dark. Anyway, it’s none of my business. What I also noted was how people posted pictures of food, but only food that looked appetising. No one posted pap and morogo. Ja Facebook has become a bragging platform for felebs and sferbrities. I took a selfie of me and uploaded it on Facebook with the caption #NoFilters. I liked Tshepo Meech Maake’s posts. Nigger is not ok upstairs lol. I found myself searching Poloko Mokoena on Facebook. He was with his wife on half the pictures he uploaded on Facebook. I added him and he accepted my request within a second. Eh, niggers who are forever on Facebook are dangerous. I think he recognised my profile picture because he immediately inboxed “to what do I owe a Facebook invitation from Her Majesty?”. Lol I didn’t respond.
I literally spent the next few days doing normal things for a change. I went to school, library and window shopping and spending most of my time indoors. I spoke to Selfie’s mom and my mom everyday. I tried to call Obakeng with no success. Poloko inboxed me every morning to check up on me. Poloko’s wife called once or twice to check up on her new friend. She sounded like a cool girl but I didn’t trust her. I tried my best to ignore Nwabisa because I didn’t wanna talk to her. I was actually planning to move out of the flat. It wasn’t comfortable living in a flat that I almost witnessed my best friend dying. On Friday afternoon I went to hospital to fetch JT. I paid a maxi taxi to go fetch her. She was so happy she was finally getting discharged. I was also happy because I knew she didn’t enjoy life in hospital. On my way to hospital Poloko’s wife called me. I had actually saved her number as Spoko sa Poloko. I didn’t know her name. That’s what happens when people introduce their wives as ‘wife’. She went “hey girlfriend. My girls and I are having a girls’ night out tomorrow. I would appreciate it if you joined us. Please don’t say no. I already told the other girls about you and they are looking forward to meeting my new beautiful friend”. Damn I didn’t wanna go but she asked in a very sweet way. I wanted to say no but I couldn’t. I told her fine but I wouldn’t be touching any alcoholic drinks. She said “cool, no alcohol for you. I am excited already. Cheers and see you tomorrow girlfriend”. Something wasn’t right, I sort of had a bad feeling. I called her back and asked if it was fine to tag a friend along. She sad it was cool. “the more the merrier”. Lol I didn’t even know who to take along because I didn’t have real friends. It was so funny how my friendships didn’t last for over 2 months. Maybe the one with Spoko sa Poloko would last because she stayed in Joburg. JT was impatiently waiting for me when I got to hospital. She was like “Ntwana, mara ka Toyota Corolla Sprinter thixo wam’? Couldn’t you hire a better car? Or why o sa spanisa transie ya ka? You have the keys mos”. I went “Julia, stop being a bitch and appreciate I’m here”. She looked at me angrily and went “if you use that name again ke tla go bontsha papago Piet. I’m JT wa bantwana”. I could see she was serious, so I didn’t laugh. I wonder why lesbians hate their real names. When we got to JT’s flat I helped her to walk up the stairs. The elevators were not working. Before going up she wanted to see her car. She wanted to check if it was parked properly. She was such a man lol. I chilled with her for couple of hours and left when it got dark. She wanted to drive me to Sunnyside but I told her I was cool. Pretoria streets are forever teeming with people on Thursday to Sunday nights, so there was nothing to fear. I used Jacob Mare Street until I crossed Mandela Drive and turned left at Gerhard Moerdyk Street towards House 22. The place reminded me of Never-Die and Maite. It was so packed with black people you’d swear they were serving free food. Some guys tried their luck on me but I ignored them. Do guys ever get tired of trying their luck? It’s like when they see a girl something scratches their brains. Fortunately I got to my place in one piece. I was so tired I didn’t wanna do anything. I decided to have a meeting with my bed and sheets. The way I was so tired I didn’t even dream that night.
I woke up feeling fresh and happy. I studied from 8am to 10am. I didn’t wanna fail the upcoming exams. Spoko sa Poloko called to ask if we were still on. I wasn’t keen on it but I said yes. She told me to catch a Gautrain and she would fetch me from Park Station around 5pm. I took a bath and had breakfast. I was glad Nwabisa wasn’t around. Immediately after bathing my phone rang and it was Obakeng. I was excited and shocked at the same time. When I picked up and said hello Obakeng went quiet on me. I begged him to stop playing games and talk to me but it fell on deaf ears. He hung up. I found it childish and psycho. Mxm bitch ass grown nigger. I called back and he didn’t pick up. I left him a voice mail “may God punish you for torturing me”. I looked at the mirror and realised my hairstyle was a bit old. I decided to go to my favourite salon at Esselen Street. Luckily my hairstylist wasn’t busy. I opted for short hair with a Madiba line on the leftleft side. Apparently yellow bones look more beautiful in weaves than in short hair. I think I look gorgeous in everything. Time wasn’t on my side. As soon as I was done I rushed home to get changed. I decided to dress sexy. I wore a red bodycon dress and black high heels complimented by a small black handbag. I looked in the mirror and saw model. I practised cat walk in front of the mirror and I loved me. Pity there was no one to take me a picture. I locked the flat and headed downstairs. The plan was to catch a taxi to the Gautrain station. Luckily I saw some TUT lecturer and he offered to drop me at the station. Spoko kept calling to check how far I was. My ‘driver’ couldn’t stop giving me compliments. Before dropping me off I asked him to take me a picture. I stood next to his BMW and he took a very beautiful picture. I immediately uploaded it on Facebook with the caption #LoveLivesHere #Limpopo’sfinest #NoFilter #Naturalyellowbone #NoMemeza. Piet and Makoma were in a good mood when they made me shem. If you are ugly, blame your parents. They probably argued about money before they made you. They are the reason you look like your ancestor Homo Naledi lol. Luckily the Gautrain left within minute as soon as I stepped in. I called Spoko as soon as I got to Park Station. Fortunately she was waiting for me at the parking. There were 3 girls (including her) in her Mini Cooper S. I was the fourth one. She introduced me to the girls and they all seemed like cool cats. They were already having red rosé in the car. I craved some but I didn’t wanna drink. Apparently the plan was to go to Taboo in Sandton but we couldn’t because Poloko was around Sandton. The second option was Busy Corner but one of the girls didn’t like kasi set up. I looked at her and she looked like someone from rural North West, that side of Kgabalatsang lol. They settled for food at Smokehouse in Braamfontein and then drinks at Newscafe in Newtown. We had ribs, chips and calamari. They had wine and I drank orange juice. The place was packed with celebs, especially boys from Skeem Saam. Around 8pm we headed to Newscafe in Newtown. I must be honest, I don’t know Joburg that well. Spoko parked her car at Newtown Junction parking and we walked to Newscafe. It was packed but not like the one in Woodmead. The girls ordered more wine and I went for Red Square Reload. Within an hour or 2 the girls were drunk and dancing. I joined in the dancing but dancing sober is worse than having sex with a big-bellied guy. I decided to sit down. My phone vibrated and it was an sms. It read “don’t show any physical emotional reaction. The girls you are with are up to no good. Come to the parking now, I’m here to save you. My car is next to the Mini Cooper you came with. You don’t have to worry about your bag, I’ll make sure you get it. Just tell the girls you are going to make a call outside”.
I looked at the girls and…..
WTF….
THE END
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LETTERS SECTION
Good day sharon
I am a 23 years old I got married to my wife 2 years ago. I would love to believe that I’m happily married however the problem starts when me and the wife disagree on certain things. Whenever she feels like I’m not doing right by her she denies me sex. She would even sleep with her clothes on/naked but still deny me sex. I know most of you are wondering how on earth I sleep next to her naked and still no sex well she’s heartless like that, and that really get to me because she’s using the love I have for sex to punish me. Recently she got angry because I didn’t wash my plate and a glass I was using. As much as I want to wash everything that I use in the house I sometimes don’t. I told her to get a helper so that she can help us but she’s against the idea. Is it fair to be punished by being denied sex because I didn’t wash my plate and glass after using them? I’m sexually frustrated as it is.
Regards
Frustrated engineer.
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