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Zion's POV

"Why can't I have my own car now. Izzy and Harry drive their own."

"I told you to wait when you're eighteen." My dad, Eros Petrakis said. He dropped me and my twelve year old sister, Emerald to school every morning on his way to work.

"I'm going to be eighteen next month. What's the point of making me wait when you'll give it to me anyway."

"Just be patient. You're lucky that someone drives you to school every morning. Look at that girl, imagine her waking up early in the morning to catch the school bus."

I looked at the girl that dad referred to. It was Claire Olsen. I studied her appearance. She looked pale and tired, as always. Her long black hair tumbled carelessly on her back and her thick bangs fell across her forehead as she looked down at her shoes.

"DUH! I'm not even complaining that I have to wait six more years inorder to get my own car." Emerald said rolling her eyes.

"Of course. You're still a kid."

"You know I'm not anymore." Emerald rose her voice in an octave. Yeah, I knew what she meant. She's really impossible. She celebrated her first menstruation with here female friends and cousins. I knew girls don't usually do that.

When I went out of the car, I was greeted by my buddies Izzy and Harry.

As usual, my sister would open the car's window and waved at Harry. She haven't got over her crush on him. I didn't like the idea that Harry made her fall for him. I was afraid she would get hurt someday.

"Hi Harry." Emerald called out through the window.

"Hello, Emerald. You're getting prettier and prettier everytime I see you." Harry replied, giving her that wink again.

"Stop doing that, she's my sister." I warned Harry.

"Why not? She's cute."

"She's still a kid." I drew Harry towards the school lobby as dad drove the car away.

"Hey bro. Congrats! Alex said you're still the top one in the Who's Hot List this school year." Izzy teased me. He knew how I hated being in that list.

"That stupid list again." I frowned. "We should talk to them to stop making that list. It's a form of bullying to the ones included in the Who's Not."

"It is and they always include my girl." Izzy said, referring to Claire.

"Hey Izzy, look. It's Claire." Harry said, pointing at Claire who just passed in front of us, walking in a hurry with her head bent.

Izzy's eyes gleamed in an instant. It always made his day if he saw Claire. For years he was into Claire. Fantasizing her. Then courted her. Everything he did to have her as a girlfriend. But she always turned him down.

The problem with Izzy, he wouldn't give up on Claire.

"Hi Claire." Izzy called out.

Claire stopped and hesitantly faced us. She was always avoiding Izzy and that included us, Harry and me. She was our schoolmate since grade school but there was never a chance to talk to her. She was a shy girl and lacked confidence, just contented sitting in the corner and did her stuffs. But she was a very smart girl, always made it in the Top Ten Honors List.

Finally Claire left and Izzy got to relax again.

"Come on, let's ask Mr. Garrett if we'll have practice tomorrow." Harry said. Mr. Garrett was our football coach.

"You go guys. I'll see you in class." English was our first class and I did something terrible. I failed in my last exam. It was the easiest subject and I took it for granted. I did not study on it and focused on my other subjects. I was afraid if my parents would find out, especially dad, he would get mad. To think that it was my last year in high school.

"Okay sure. I'll see you later, bro." Izzy tapped my shoulder before we parted ways.

I saw Claire when I passed by the bulletin board. She was looking at something and I realized it was the Top Ten List of Who's Hot and Who's Not.

Damn list.

I knew it was upsetting her being always in the Top Ten List of Who's Not. I didn't understand why. She was not bullied in school. She was admired and regarded highly by teachers for being always an achiever. I guess, her being in the list had something to do with her stepsister who was one of the activists.

I stopped behind her and said. "Stupid list."

I was caught off guard when suddenly she turned around and our faces came so close. We held eyes for a second. I've never been this close to any girl since I broke up with Maddie a year ago and the feeling was strange.

She stepped back avoiding any contact from me. But I continued staring at her. I realized her eyes were hazel brown not gray, as what Izzy thought. It had a burning pain, far away look in them. Her faint smile even held a touch of sadness.

I decided to leave before I embarrassed myself for staring far too long.

***

I was talking to my English teacher, Miss Robinson after class. I was asking her a favor to give me assignments so I could improve my grades.

"If you want to get a good grade, you have to play the role of Romeo."

"What?! No way Miss. I'm not good in acting." I raked my hair with my fingers, feeling so agitated.

"Do you want a higher grade or not?"

"Of course. Is there any other way aside from that? Maybe help you check test papers or... mow your lawn or set up your Christmas tree? I can be your household helper for one week."

Her lips twisted and one eyebrow rose. "No. My husband can do those things, Mr. Petrakis." She said on point. "If you want to pass your English subject, then do it my way."

"Okay fine, I'll do it." I had no choice but to agree. Dammit. My friends would mock me once they'd find out, especially Izzy and Harry. If possible, I wanted to keep this a secret.

"Do I have to play the lead role? Can I play minor roles instead. I swear, I'm not really good on this."

"Our Romeo backed out. He got chicken pox and we need someone to replace him."

I was instructed by Miss Robinsons to go to one of the Theatre rooms backstage - the Rose Room to get the script so I could study it. There was no enough time anymore. The play would be presented a few weeks after holiday break.

I was heading to the School Theatre when Ashley Farris blocked my way. "Hi Zion. We're going to have a party this weekend in my house. Wanna join us?"

"Thanks but I'm busy this weekend." I said.

"Awweee too bad. Maddie will be there."

The mere mention of Maddie's name made my temper rose.

Almost everyone in school wouldn't stop connecting my name with Maddie. Although Maddie and I broke up a year ago, they still thought that I haven't moved on. That until now, I was still hoping for us to get back together. They thought that my world stopped the moment we broke up.

If they only knew the real reason why we broke up.

"Excuse me. I'm in a hurry." I spun around and left.

The School Theatre was empty with students. The lights were dim except for the center stage where Mr. Francisco, one of the school janitors was cleaning.

"Hello Mr. Francisco. How's your day?"

"I'm fine. What are you doing here Zion?"

"I'm going to get something in the Rose Room." I answered, walking towards the side of the stage.

"Ah... the poor girl is waiting for you for almost an hour already." He answered.

The poor girl? I wondered who was waiting for me.

I entered the Rose Room and there she was. Her arms was on the table pillowed her head - sleeping soundly.

I moved closer to her and softly whispered her name. "Claire."

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One more episode to be posted today after 1k likes and comments

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Claire's POV

Oh no! I'm going to be late.

I was running now, like running for my life. My heart was pumping so hard, my skin was cold as ice and sweat ran down my spine.

Whew! I stopped for a while, catching my breath.

I couldn't miss the school bus, I have a long quiz in my first subject, Math. I have to do good in school, being in my last year in high school so I would qualify in a scholarship program.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead then checked the time on my wristwatch. Shocks no... then I started to run again to the bus station.

I heard a car horned behind me. It was Ashley Farris. My stepsister.

Ashley opened her car window and yelled at me. "Run faster Claire!" Her laughter echoed in the air. She was the reason why I was hurrying right now. She made me iron her school uniform again and again to make sure that there was no single crease left.

Ashley and I were both seventeen, but she was a month older than me. We were both Seniors at Riverview High School.

We looked totally different. She was a blond while I have jet black hair. She was short and curvy while I was tall and skinny. Okay... very skinny. I didn't understand why I was so skinny. I tried to eat plenty and take multivitamins daily, but still I was skin and bones.

She always competed with me eversince we met. In the house, she wanted to get my dad's attention. She got my room and my stuffs. Dad tried to please her by buying whatever she wanted. Everything became in her favor.

Ashley was a smart girl also. We competed each other in school. We were both in the Top Ten Students. But I always got the highest rank and that was very upsetting on her part.

Her mom, Aunt Abby married my dad seven years ago. It was so sudden. I just lost my mom – she was hit by a car. I was still grieving when dad got married again in just two months. Mom was not even cold in her grave.

I lost my dad two years ago in a fire incident and that made my life became a calvary. Aunt Abby and Ashley made my life miserable. They stopped treating me like a family. I became a squatter in my own house.

Don't worry Claire, one more year and you'll be free. I murmured to myself.

I was just in time when the school bus arrived in the bus station. I was so relieved.

I saw my bestie, Rhea when I entered the bus. I sat down beside her and put my maroon Jansport backpack in front of me.

"Hi Claire. You look like a mess."

"I know right." I combed my long tangled hair with my fingers and fixed my eyebrows with my fingertips. I was so conscious with my eyebrows because they were so thick like those of the werewolves and pointing everywhere. I have to flattened them and kept in place all the time.

"Did you finish your Science homework?"

"Of course. I finished it early this morning." I smoothened the creases of my uniform and tightened my tie.

"I'm not sure with my answer in number ten. Can you help me on it?" Rhea pleaded.

"Of course. No worries."

My heart skipped a beat when I stepped out of the school bus. I saw a familiar car turned around the curb heading towards the school's main entrance. A black Mercedes-Benz with a custom license plate. PETRAKIS.

I stopped at the side of the road, waiting for the car to pass by. The windows were tinted black, so dark that it was impossible to see inside. I kept my eyes fixed on my shoes, embarrassed to be caught looking at the car.

Zion Petrakis was inside the car. The most popular boy in school. A heartthrob. Tall, handsome with a beautifully lean muscular body. He walked with grace, pride and confidence. Very athletic. He was the captain of the school's football team. Many girls admired him and sought his attention. Yeah. I liked him too. A lot. But unlike the others, I was contented admiring him from afar.

The car parked outside the school's lobby. Zion went out, with his black backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked so fresh with his dark straight hair glistened. Obviously wet from the shower.

He was greeted with his best friends Harry Allen and Israel Yasin. The three of them were inseparable since pre-school and together they played in the football team.

"Claire, I'm going to talk to Miss Murphy. Just go ahead." Rhea said.

"Okay. I'll see you in the classroom."

I was approaching the lobby to where Zion, Harry and Izzy were standing and praying at the same time. Please God, let them go inside. Let me be invisible that they wouldn't notice me.

I sighed a good relief when I managed to pass by in front of them unnoticed. But I was wrong, it was just a temporary bliss.

"Hi Claire." I heard Israel a.k.a. Izzy said behind me.

I stopped and spun around, staring at him, then at Harry and Zion. "Hi."

Harry said 'hi' back, but Zion just smiled and looked away.

Izzy did not hide the fact that he liked me. Ever since in grade school, he was into me. He sent me gifts, brought roses, love letters and chocolates. He even wrote poems for me, but I couldn't teach myself to like him more than just a friend. I didn't feel the same way he felt for me.

It was always Zion. I didn't understand myself why. He didn't do anything to make me like him. He never talked to me. He ignored me like I did not exist. I hated myself that I kept on thinking about him and deep down inside of me I knew that he probably haven't thought about me once.

I excused myself and walked in a hurry away from them, almost running. I just slowed down when I was out of their sight.

I passed by the bulletin board and stopped to check for any announcements and reminders. A leaflet about a free trip to Korea for top students caught my attention. I was reading it when someone stood beside me – Alex Gomez, one of the student activists. He posted a list of

Top Ten Students Who's Hot And Who's Not , covering the leaflet I was reading.

"Not again." Facepalm.

As usual. I was at the Top Ten List Of Who's Not.

This became my burden every school year. But I learned to view it in a positive way. Who cares. It was only a list made by student activists. Sarcastically speaking, I should be flattered because I went down in the ranking from second to fourth.

But still, I checked the list. As expected, Zion Petrakis was at the top in Who's hot, he always did, followed by his friends, Harry and Israel. Zion's ex-girlfriend, Maddie Jennings, the popular 'it girl' in school was also included as well as my stepsister Ashley.

"Stupid list." I heard a familiar voice said behind me. I looked around and saw Zion. We were so close, that our face almost collided. I could smell his scent, like a combination of soap and cologne, and the warmness of his body vibrated through me, like a current. I've never been this close to him ever and the feeling was so electrifying.

I stepped back and looked around. He was alone. I wondered where his friends were.

Zion looked at me and I looked back at him. His dark eyes were sharp and assessing, holding my eyes still. But I couldn't continue looking at him, his stares and nearness made my knees so weak. It would be so embarrassing if I fell down on his feet.

He grabbed the list of the Top Ten Who's Hot And Who's Not , crumpled it and threw in the nearest bin. Then he was gone in a blink of an eye.

To be continued

    SPLIT ENDS

   A Story by E PLUS The Storyteller ✍🏿

      The Story Continues

Now you can get this story, SPLIT ENDS, in Audio version.

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And she went on to do this until I graduated from school.

Everything began on a hot Saturday morning.

That day, Aunt Bimpe, Auntie Fumilayo’s mother had left for work in one of the busiest markets in Abeokuta.  

And I was in the street, playing soccer with the neighborhood kids. 

My team was losing by 3 - 2, and I was annoyed by this. So, when I trapped the ball as it was maneuvered towards me, I dribbled it past our opponents, heading to the goalpost at the other end.

The hails and jeers from the spectators prompted me on, and just as I was about to kick off the ball, I heard my name.

I halted, waiting to see if they’d call again.

“Ayomide!” I heard Auntie Fumilayo bellow again from inside of our house.

Though I was irritated because I had missed the chance to even our scores, I left my team members to answer Auntie Fumilayo because I knew how ruthless she can be.

I went into our compound, and headed into the house. My heart was palpitating with fear of what I had done. I knew that Auntie Fumilayo only called when one has gone awry.

“Auntie Fumilayo?” I called when I entered the parlor.

“Here,” she said.

I went through the corridor that led to her room for that was where her voice had come from.

“Come in,” she said as I reached her door. She must have heard the sound of my feet dragging across the floor.

I walked into the room. Auntie Fumilayo was laying on her bed, reading a worn-out copy of ‘The Joy Of Motherhood’.

“Close the door, and come here,” Auntie Fumilayo said as she rose from the bed to sit on it.

With trembling fingers, I bolted the door. Though I didn't know what I had done wrong that morning for I had washed the plates and cleaned the house before going out to play, I still feared that she would whip me with her cane, or even with the pointed end of her high heel shoes; she had done that once. 

“Come and sit here,” she repeated, tapping her dark, meaty thighs.

I stepped over to sit where she had directed me. I sat rigidly on her thighs, lest I irritate her. 

“You know I like you, Ayomide,” Auntie Fumilayo said, her fingers coming up to caress my sweaty back.

Just as her hand rolled up on my back again, I realized that I was holding my breathe even though I didn't remember doing it.

In one swift movement, Auntie Fumilayo snatched my right hand, and holding it firmly, she led it into her flowery dress, resting it on the soft, wet, mound of flesh in-between her legs. 

“Auntie –” I croaked.

“Shut up,” Auntie Fumilayo warned, her face contorting into an ugly frown. “Don’t say a word of this to anyone, or else, I will kîll you.”

I nodded as hot tears rolled down my face.

Then she wriggled her fingers into my trousers, and taking ahold of my pènis, she twisted it here and there.

And just like that, I lost my innocence to Aunty Fumilayo that day.

When we were done, my penis was swollen, and the tip of it was stinging terribly. I felt no pleasure at all.

Before I left her room, Auntie Fumilayo pulled a bar of milky biscuit from the drawer beside her bed.

“Take,” she said to me. I collected it before I left her room.

It happened again three days later. That night, I had gone to the toilet to urinate before I’ll retire to bed.

I had barely entered the toilet when Auntie Fumilayo followed. She closed the door, and pushed me to the wall.

“I don’t want to hear your voice,” she said as she unbuckled my belt. “My mother is in the parlor.”

I nodded because I knew Auntie Fumilayo and how mean she could get. I had learned long ago not to annoy her.

She hurriedly removed her skirt, then she asked me to kneel and lick her womanhood. Even though I didn’t like it, I did it for there was nothing I could do.

I sniffled as my tongue lapped at the flesh. The sour and tangy flavor of it tasted acrid to my young tongue.

After minutes of using me to pleasure herself, she asked me to stand, then she knelt herself.

She didn’t even allow me to catch my breath before she swallowed my penîs into her warm mouth. 

“Kpom!” a knock came from outside and Auntie Fumilayo and I scrambled apart.

“Who is there?” we heard her Aunty Bimpe’s voice ask from outside.

My heart has never pounded so loudly in my life; I could hear it with my own ears. I felt hot sweat break down my back.

“Ahmmm” Auntie Fumilayo cleared her throat, then she stuttered, “It’s me, mummy.”

“Are you defecating?” Aunty Bimpe asked.

“Yes, I am,” Auntie Fumilayo said. 

“Did you see Ayomide?” asked Aunty Bimpe.

“I think he went to the backyard earlier,” Auntie Fumilayo said.

“Okay,” we heard Aunty Bimpe say as she receded back.

No sooner had she gone than Auntie Fumilayo asked me to wear my clothes and rush to my bed. She also dressed and ran out herself. That was what had saved me from her that day. 

Auntie Fumilayo kept repeating this. She would call me into her room anytime her mother was out of the house, or she would sneak into mine at night to fondle me. And because of this, she began to buy me presents and gift me things.

Day and night, I wished nothing more than for Auntie Fumilayo to return to school for she was a student of University of Nigeria, Nsukka. 

I wished sometimes that her mother would catch us for I was too scared to tell the woman myself.

I wished I could return to our house in the village, to stay with my mother and my siblings, especially Laide, my youngest brother.

But I knew that this was impossible for after Papa dièd in a motorcycle accident, things became extremely hard for us. Mama could barely feed everyone, all seven of us, so she sent the older ones amongst us out, to lessen her burden.

Mama had sent me me to Aunty Bimpe, her younger sister who lived in Abeokuta.

Living with Aunty Bimpe was generally cool, excepting the fact that her only daughter, Auntie Fumilayo, was hot-tempered and harsh. 

My relief soon came when Auntie Fumilayo‘s school resumed and she traveled.

But my relief was short lived. After Auntie Fumilayo left, I fell ill. I was so down that I could barely stand up so I stayed in bed all day, trembling and sweating profusely.

Aunty Bimpe was the one who took care of me. She brought me food, medicine and water. 

And when it got too bad, she resorted to mopping my body with a towel since I was beginning to stink for I couldn’t get up to bathe myself.

“Hmmm, this boy,” Aunty Bimpe said as she wiped my naked body with the towel. “Your penîs is bigger than you. How can a small boy of your age carry something this big?”

I was too weak to answer.

Three days later, I began to recover speedily, and barely a week later, I was up and bubbly.

Two weeks later, I was sleeping in my room when I felt something touch my trouser. Terrified, I sat up quickly only to see that it was Aunty Bimpe.

“Shhh!” Aunty Bimpe said, then she began to fondle my body, reaching into my trouser to grab my manhood. 

That day, I had my first penetrative sèx. I lost my virginity that day to the woman to whom Mama had entrusted me.

Since there was no one in the house to avoid, Aunty Bimpe came to me every night. She only stopped after Auntie Fumilayo returned. 

Even then, I was weary myself for though Aunty Bimpe stopped, Auntie Fumilayo began hers again.

She sneaked into my room at every opportunity she got.

This kept happening – Aunty Bimpe would start once her daughter travels to school, and Auntie Fumilayo would start once she returns.

This continued till I graduated secondary school and gained admission into the university.

In school, whenever my friends came together to talk about their sexûal escapades – their first kiss or sèx, I would lie and tell them my first sexûal experience was with a girl named Mary. After all, I couldn’t tell them that I had my first sexuàl experiences with my mother’s younger sister, Aunty Bimpe, and her daughter, Auntie Fumilayo.

Whenever I came back for the holidays, one of the women would sneak into my room to have sèx with me.

There was nothing I could really do, but all these soured my mood and affected my mental health. I grew thinner and thinner each day, and they themselves blossomed with health and buoyancy.

“Why do you look thin and weak these days?” Mr. Yemi, Aunty Bimpe‘s husband, had asked one day. It was during one of his rare visits. He worked in a petrochemical company in PortHarcourt so he came once in a while to see us.

“Nothing, Uncle. It’s just school strèss,” I lied. I knew it was not school that caused my depreciating mental and physical health but Aunty Bimpe and Auntie Fumilayo’s constant sèxual abuse. But who would help?

I soon reached my final year in school, and by this time, Auntie Fumilayo had been married off to one man, a pastor of Deeper Life Church. Pastor Kalu, he was named.

Sometimes, she still snuck into my room to have sèx with me during one of her visits to her father’s house. And by the end of everything, I was left breathless and so was she.

Nine years has come and gone. I now have a promising career as a doctor in Abeokuta General Hospital. Things are going great for me; I have a fiancé, and I own a house and drive two cars.

It’s been long since I saw or spoke with Aunty Bimpe and Mr. Yemi for they had traveled out of the country after Mr. Yemi retired from his company.

The worse of it all was Auntie Fumilayo. She had dîed last year due to breàst cancer. Her deàth took a toll on her husband’s health. The poor pastor was inconsolable for months. Even now, his demeanor was hardly cheerful.

Even though it’s has been long – years – since I suffered the sexûal abuses from Aunty Bimpe and Auntie Fumilayo’s hand, I am still troubled by the dark memories. There were days when I jerk from sleep, sweating and breathing harshly for I had had a nightmare about those forlorn days. There were times when I felt a hatred, deep and scorching, not only for Aunty Bimpe and Auntie Fumilayo, but myself, too. 

These past memories were not the only things plaguing my mind. I am also reminded and haunted by another thing – a deep stunning secret that might haunt me for the rest of my life;

That Jennifer and Esther, Auntie Fumilayo and Pastor Kalu’s children, are my biological daughters.

© Desmond Ben

Many, many years ago,, there was a town in the Brass country called onyoama. For a long time, the people of onyoama traded peacefully with their neighbours, the kulas.

One day, a prince of Kulas went to onyoama to trade. There he met one of the king's daughters and fell in love with her. She returned his love and agreed to marry him.

After this, the prince often visited onyoama to see her. Naturally, he wanted to meet the king, her father. But when he asked the princess to take him to her father's palace, she always refused.

The prince always sent a messenger to tell the princess when he was coming to onyoama. But one day, the messenger fell ill and his message didn't reach the princess.

When the prince arrived, she wasn't at home. So he decided to go alone to call on the king. When the prince reached the palace, he greeted the king and then said "I am a prince of Kula and I want to marry your daughter, princess ...." Before he could finish speaking, the king seized his sword and killed him.

When the princess returned home, she saw some bundles of Kula's cloth on the floor. "So he said, 'Has the prince of Kula come? Where is he? Her servants knew the king had killed the prince, but they were afraid to tell her. " He has gone for a walk", 'they said.

The princess did not believe them. She ran to the palace and, when she saw the prince's dead body, she wept and cursed her father. Then she set off at once for Kula. When she arrived there, she went to the king of the Kulas and said, I am a princess of onyoama. Your son asked me to marry him. Today, he came to visit me but I was away fishing. So he went alone to my father's palace and my father killed him. I have come to take your army to onyoama and kill my father'.

The king of the Kulas was mad with grief and rage. He and his army went at once to onyoama and killed the king and all the people of onyoama, and completely destroyed their city. And that is why today nobody knows where the city of onyoama used to be. Thanks for reading please do well to support and follow my page