Surreal || by Anastasia Ugwu

I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG I've been standing, neither do I want to know. One minute I was in my room, preparing for bed, and the next I'm gaping. Completely stunned. 

I'm not blind, am I? I can't say for sure. Just that what's going on now feels surreal: someone is sitting in the corridor—the one leading to my kitchen—head drooped in their palms. I heave a ragged sigh. How… how did they get in? How—

This is no time to wonder. All I need is just get inside my room, grab my phone and call the cops. Swallowing, I creep past the figure—since they aren't moving, I shouldn't risk alerting them.

Now, I've almost made it out of the backyard, but I stop in my tracks. Foolishly wondering if they're still there. So, I turn—

A shriek bursts out of me, my limbs trembling. I was never prepared to meet the stranger's boring eyes. I twirl around and scurry towards the front yard. I should alert the neighbours, anybody. As I bustle through, a weight collapses on my shoulders. And I freeze, eyes bulging, not daring a word. It's that stranger, no doubts.

"Shush, I'm not gonn—"

I elbow him in the belly. He grunts. 

"Let go of me! Help, somebody! Hel—"

He cups my lips. I try to bite his palm, but my lips are covered in such a way that I can't pull them apart.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, princess."

I don't respond; I have to think of escape plan.

"I just need a place to stay. One night, that's all."

The drumming of my heart fills my ears, and my palms are clammy.

"I'll set you free," he whispers. "But you gonna promise you won't act stupidly. Understand?" His breath stinks of liquor. Who does he think he is?

I nod frantically.

He releases me. It's a perfect opportunity for me bolt away, but I don't. Maybe I'm too scared to think properly. I stagger forward, leading the way to the front door.

At the door step, I hesitate. 

"Any problem?" 

Getting inside will probably seal my fate and no one will ever hear my voice, whatever this jerk is planning. I brace myself and look squarely into his eyes. "Yes," I say, "it's you, you motherfucker." 

I don't wait to glimpse the look on his face; I scream with all my might, calling for help. 

And before I can make any more sound, something comes crashing right on my lips. 

Soft, smooth, reeking of booze.

I stare, completely shocked with what is happening. 

His eyes are closed, dark thick brows knot together. Beautiful lashes, long and full—better than any I've seen on any lady. And his hair... 

His hands slide around my neck, drawing me closer. He deepens the kiss, and for a moment... I almost respond to his movements, my eyes blurring off. A tingle tickles my inner thighs. 

B-but what am I doing? I bat my lashes, looking to draw myself to the present. A stranger is at my porch, seriously kissing me and I'm doing nothing to stop him. Seriously!

With my hands on his broad chest, I push him away from me. I gasp. The strong taste of alcohol lingers in my tongue, causing me to dry-heave.

"Yum-my," he drawls, wriggling his brows.

I flicker a brow. What? Yummy? The nerve he has! Who the hell does he think he is! Right now he looks distracted, thanks to the heated moment just now. "Just a sec," I sputter, popping inside. I lock the door, heave a sigh my back hefted against it, and at once, I reach for my personal handgun beneath one of the couches. I sigh again, clasping the grip in both hands. This will do—but there are no bullets.

I creep towards the door, grip the door knob, gently as I can, though, then pull the door open, Can't believe he's still there, waiting. "Leave this minute or I'm gonna blow your goddamn brain!"

He flinches, almost falling, his eyes bulging. Just as I expect.

"Leave!" I shout again. 

A cheeky smile plays on his lips, getting me the more nervous. But just then, he withdraws, still smiling, probably happy with his win over me. 

Damn! I can't bear to consider the taste of booze in my mouth. And when I think of my very first kiss stolen by a drunk stranger...

Image Credit: ©Jean-Honoré Fragonard


ANASTASIA UGWU is a young writer with a fierce passion for mystery and thriller. She's an undergraduate of the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, and majors in Physiotherapy.

Coupled with that, she's an enthusiast of African genre fiction. She hopes that aspect of literature will see the light of the day in Africa. 

Post a Comment

Post a Comment (0)
Fiery Scribe Review