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    I sat down on the pavement, looking out to the road that stretched over the mountain. It was already harmattan and the wind had begun howling, bringing in dust from the Sahara. My lips felt dry as I ran my tongue over them to moisten them, feeling pains like it was cracked. The sun hid in a blanket of dust, given the environment a serene feeling. I sat there wondering what heaven looked like. My mind was thumping a little bit as the wind kept gathering momentum, but that was really normal.

    “Blessing, come inside now”

    I turned to look at the door of our house. It looked old not because it was old but for my father’s love for antiques. He would always come back with old things and start telling history about how those things were used in years past. He had brought a very sickly, rabies infected dog. The dog looked like something that had been overrun by a reckless driver.

    “Honey, this dog looks old”

    My mum complimented, her hands on her mouth trying to suppress a laugh.

    “I know. This dog is 18 years old.”

    My father replied, smiling. The dog as if taking cue flashed a doggy smile. Its toothless gum came out expose giving me a churning in my stomach. To make matter worst, the dog ran after me, jumped on me tripping me in the process. Its scaly tongue went for my face which it started licking in ecstasy. My skin cringed, felt like vomiting. Pushed the dog away and stood up only to see that the dog had en e.r.ection. To say I was mad is an understatement, smoke was practically coming out of my head, ears, nose, mouth. Every available opening. My dad made matter worst by making a remark.

    “Blessing, I think the dog likes you. Take care of it.”

    And took care of it I did. The dog was found dead two days later at the backyard with a swollen stomach. I had added “otapiapia” to its food.

    “Blessing!!”

    My mother screamed again shaking me from my reverie. I stood up, dusted my lose skirt and made my way into the house. I met her straining her eyes, trying to fix a thread through the eyes of a needle.

    “Can you help me?”

    She asked in a sweet voice. Mother always used a sweet voice whenever she wanted me to help out with a chore. I looked at her, smiled.

    “But mama, you said what an old woman can see lying down, a child cannot see even if her climbs a tree.”

    “I did say so, how does it affect you?” She asked typically.

    “I suggest you lie down and fix the thread.” I answered, trying to make my sarcasm sound as polite as possible.

    “No dinner for you if you don’t help me.”

    I laughed out and collected the needle. The woman always had a way of making me work.

    “Go and do the dishes madam”, She said immediately I finished. Not even a word of thank you. Parents!!!

    ***********************************************************

    “I’m home!!”

    The clear voice of my father sounded from the living room as I was scrubbing the back of a particularly stubborn pot. I smiled to my self. He still thought I was a kid and expected me to run out and jump on his body. With all the eyes those boys were giving to me when I walk back from school. I knew I had grown the right contours in the right places.

    “Welcome daddy”

    I greeted him.

    “My toyin tomatoes”, he said, opening his hands. I walked to him and gave him a shoulder hug. He did not mind.

    “Guess what I brought today.” He asked, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

    “Not again dad, you brought a medieval sewing machine used by the emperor?”

    I asked. The question seemed to amuse him as he laughed out loud. He did a sound.

    “Misssss misssssss”

    “Meow… Meow”

    A tiny voice replied. I swirled round to see an old, haggard looking cat coming towards my dad in slow motion. I have watched enough movies to know that witchcraft is always associated to cats. All thanks to Nollywood.

    “Hey caty caty caty.” The cat was rubbing itself on my dad’s leg romantically.

    “This cat is 30 years old.”

    My dad remarked. I did a mental calculation. An old witch would definitely be living inside this particular cat. I would have preferred dad dragging home the corpse of a dead cat than bringing this cat home.

    “Can I take care of the cat dad?” I asked in an innocent voice.

    “That’s nice of you but no ma”, he replied. Dad no longer trusts me.

    I had murdered more old animals than even Jack Ripper. All I needed was to add a pinch of “otapiapia” into their food. The last parrot he brought home refused to die. It waited till dad was home and then reported me. A parrot reported me, now that’s incredulous but it happened.

    “I off to the kitchen”, I said, turning around and went back to the kitchen, back to the stubborn pot and back to plotting how to kill the newest member of the family.

    ************************************************

    “Misssssssss… Missssssss”

    I called to the old cat. It looked at me warily and continued licking its paws. The cat hardly moved, its coming into the family brought with it multiple colonies of rats. I was exasperated beyond control. I had used my darling otapiapia severally, the cat would drink its milk and then lie down. I will go to bed hoping to see its stiff body by dawn, only to wake up and see the cat sleeping peacefully close to me.

    “Meow”

    The cat said and walked towards me when I flashed it fish. Wanna poison a rat? Use fish. Same works for cats too.

    “Enjoy”

    I said to the cat. I watched as it ate the fish slowly. Licked it paws and looked for somewhere silent to sleep. The power of tramol. I called to the cat, called and called but it continued sleeping. If “otapiapia” can’t kill you orally, then it sure would kill you intravenously. I walked gently towards the cat and injected it with a great does of “otapiapia”.

    The next day my dad made me bury the cat by the side of the mountain where the ground was hardest. Since then I had always stayed away from my dad and his old animals. We now have another old cat, an old dog, an old horse and an old parrot. All the animals seemed to be planning against me. I sit virtually in the kitchen waiting for my food to get done.

    Don’t want to die yet from an overdose.

    THE END.**

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    #667334 Reply
    Macrex {phunny dude}
    Macrex {phunny dude}
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    Nice 1

    #667351 Reply
    Tommie1704
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    What’s he using all this old old things fr, so scary.. Nice one

    #667360 Reply
    Emmazzy
    Emmazzy
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    Observing things

    #667371 Reply
    Etz Froshberry
    Etz Froshberry
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    Holala!

    #667372 Reply
    Etz Froshberry
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    😉

    #667388 Reply
    Victoriouschild
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    Blessing why were you killing the old animals?

    I wonder what the man was doing with old animals

    #667403 Reply
    RoyalGold
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    Lol, funny

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