I always have something unimportant to say. This is Artitude…. Live it. Poems….. Stories…. Writing…. Discoveries…. Quotes……

NIGHT TIME IS FOR PROWLING.


I don’t know how to start this, just know its a story.
As I’ve always said about my stories, this is fiction. None of the characters is real either. So if it looks like the story of your life, then I should probably open a fortune telling stall. (Oh Eff all of that).
Just read the story, and then tell me what you think. Thanks.
———- ——— ———– ——— ———– ———– ————- ———– ———– ———- ———- ———

I belong to the group of people who believe that night time was originally created for fun (before Adam and Eve spoilt everything :-|). When I say fun, I don’t mean sexual activities. Fun could include hanging out, seeing movies, partying and the sort. But whenever I remember last night’s events, I have to denounce my beliefs.

‘So what time will you be back?’ my kid sister had been drilling me since I started preparing to go out.

‘Sweetie, I don’t know, just make sure your phone is beside you so that you’ll come to open the kitchen door when I call you’, I smiled at her.

After wearing a really short gown, I proceeded to wear a very long night gown. The hand-bag containing my shoes and make up was outside the house already. I locked the door to my room and went to bid mom and dad good-night. They were so wrapped up in their conversation; they didn’t notice when I sneaked out to my friend’s waiting car (not that they were supposed to notice). I pulled off my night gown and proceeded to make up.

The friend in question is a girl, and we going on a girls’ night out. The details of our hang out aren’t important though. Just know that we had so much fun; we didn’t know we we’re being followed when we left the club.

We were half way into the journey back home when a car drove past and blocked us.

‘Get down!‘ our assailant barked at us. ‘Yepa!’ was the only thing that came to my mind. I tried to peep at his face, but he was wearing a mask and holding a knife that reminded me of one of the meat knives back at home.

We dropped our phones without his asking, hoping he’ll leave us alone. But he had just started.

First he asked us to frog-jump for some minutes. Weird right? I still wonder why.

Afterwards he asked us our names, details and what we were doing out at that time. We were so scared; we couldn’t lie. All the while he was recording the proceedings with a camera phone.

Next, he asked us to dance to the popular song ‘Windeck’. The only problem was there was no music; it was supposed to be playing in our heads.
Do you know how it feels to dance without music? I’m sure we looked like idiots.

I started dancing first, and by the time my friend Chisom joined me, tears were freely falling from my eyes.
‘Please now, we’re sorry’, I pleaded. Funniest thing was I didn’t even know what it was we were supposed to have done wrong.
No Comment.
‘Please sir, we’re sorry. Its getting late, our parents don’t know we left the house.’
Our pleas fell on deaf ears; we just kept dancing to unheard music and were terrified of the knife gleaming in his hands.

Our begging took a different dimension after fifteen minutes of uninterrupted dancing:
‘Chineke, I swear I’ll never sneak out again,’ Chisom said.
I continued with: ‘in fact, I won’t go for any party till my wedding…’
‘Me, till I die,’ Chisom interjected.

Okay, so I know you’re probably laughing at us, but it wasn’t funny then. Our phonetic intonations gradually turned to Nigerian Pidgin.

‘E don be for us o!’ I kept jerking my waist. Even our captor started laughing.

I think we would have run away, but for the fact that Chisom’s mom’s car was there.
‘Okay, I’ll release you,’ he finally said after close to thirty minutes.
‘Eh!! Thank you,’ we chorused.
‘Quiet!’ he snapped.
‘Sorry sir, we’re very….’
‘But before you go, you’ll write undertaking never to sneak out again,’ he ended.

That had to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, but I couldn’t even object. We nodded in agreement. From his back pocket, he brought out a note-pad for us to write. With shaking hands, we faithfully wrote. I wouldn’t know what Chisom wrote, but here’s a copy of mine:-

‘I; Juliet,promise never ever, in my entire existence to sneak out or fly out or fence out of my house for a late night trip – sorry; I mean night clubbing. If I do, let this be brought as evidence against me.’
And I signed afterwards.

Please ignore the grammatical errors. I was scared shitless. I couldn’t give a hoot about English.

He finally let us go and didn’t even take our phones. We stayed on the ground; where he’d instructed us to lie until he had driven far away. My senses finally came alive; I remember smelling urine. I think I peed in my panties.. We were both speechless on the ride home. I soundlessly climbed over the fence and my sister came to open the door as planned.

The Morning After…
“Who was even that idiot?” Chisom could not get the incident off her mind.

I assumed that the question wasn’t for me, so I ignored it.

We were alone in her family house, her parents had travelled the previous day (that’s how we got access to the car); and her elder brother Junior had gone out with friends.

“Please where is the Dan Brown novel you promised to give me?” I made an attempt at changing the subject.

“It should be on Junior’s table,” she said; still sulking.

I managed to drag her down to her brother’s room where we both searched for the novel. It was I who the first evidence…the note pad; before she spotted the pair of big red sneakers which we had been forced to stare at last night.

I looked at Chisom and I could guess that the same question was on her mind; ‘was it junior who harassed us last night?’

Watch out for the sequel to this, where we would go on a hunt for our………………….
—- —— —— —— ——— ——– ———- ——— ——— ——— ——— ———- ——— ——– ——— ——– ——

Once again, I took your precious time, by making you read this endless story. :D, but don’t worry, the 2nd part is coming soon. Let’s hope my story ends there, because I’m also :S about all of this.

Moral of The Story:
Why always me? 😥

This short story was written by @homeschooldnerd. If you liked it, scroll down to drop a comment. If you did not enjoy it, do the same. Gracias.

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Comments on: "NIGHT TIME IS FOR PROWLING." (20)

  1. Hmmmm…. Very Creative.

  2. Nma IMO this story is based on a true life experience, Yes I said it.

  3. LMFAO!!!! Can’t stop laughing with the thought of dancing without a music, you guys must have looked really stupid =)).

    Why the suspense? 😐

  4. sammie jay said:

    Nice funny usless stupid intelligent fiction story kip it up or beta still join bollywood

  5. so Chisom wouldn’t b able to tell her own brother’s voice

  6. YouThinkSayYouKnowMe said:

    LOL..Sweedie,sha yu can tell story for africa….Cool Gist tho..

  7. Emperor Kay said:

    Cool story…looking up to seeing the end of the story tho!

  8. Okay, this made me laugh.

    Chisom’s brother Is a perv. I like him. 🙂

    Good one bro.

  9. Cant wait o

  10. Wen’z d sequel gon b ready nau?

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