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Matured Stories

The Buried Passion – Season 1 – Episode 2

It had rained heavily during the day. So the piercing wind of September swept over her like bucketful of iced water as she ran helplessly through the lump of darkness which had now rendered the buildings like burial monuments. Most of the houses were in two-three stories except for a few bungalows. She felt a numb sensation in her limbs and they became useless to continue the hundred feet that remained of her journey to the hostel. She strived over and over, knowing that the gangs would soon desist from her as there was armed corps securing the hostel.

She shivered convulsively and slumped to the ground.

The polythene bag containing her food was wrenched away from her grip by the greedy wind. Her heart was gone as she submitted herself to the tragedy that was about to befall her.

Lying on her back on the ground, she wondered how the three terrors had suddenly turned a single one above her.

She couldn’t make out who the person was amongst those 3 terrors as she peered into the shadowy figure. Perhaps the rest were lurking somewhere in the darkness.

She shut her eyes tightly, waiting for her body to turn to a slaughtered cow at abattoir. The cult members had killed several students that way. Most times, corpses of students would be found without hands or legs in the bush behind the main campus.

One minute gone – she hadn’t felt her body butchered by the blood-craving machetes.

“Please, don’t hurt me!” Her voice faded out.

The obscure figure offered her what seemed like a helping hand, but she refused. Instead, she pleaded with the hand to spare her life.

“It’s me … Kwame,” said the shadowy figure.

The voice jolted her into a vigorous consciousness, but she was confused as to how the three terrors had suddenly turned her boy-friend.

He switched on a torch light over the spot she was lying and helped her gently to her feet. Her fantastic figure was now visible through the brilliant shaft of light from the torch. She was clad in a blue blouse and flaring, feminine trousers that defined her hips and overall shapely body. She had a radiantly brown skin, and her typical African beauty was stressed by her braided coiffure. She seemed to be in her early twenties.

“W…where are the guys?” Sarah’s lips quavered in terror, trying to catch her breath.

“They have stopped chasing you a while ago,” said Kwame, “I saw them chasing after you from afar off and I trailed behind them; I was afraid as I knew they might hurt you. Fortunately, with the help of my torch light, I discovered that two of them were my faculty mates, so I have pacified them on your behalf. I was the one who’d been running after you from the main road, asking you to stop… I guess the shock had prevented you from hearing me.”

“Ooh! … My God” Sarah heaved a sigh of relief with her palm placed on her chests; she embraced Kwame thankfully, “thanks for saving my life.”

“Where is the stuff you were holding? “Kwame asked after withdrawing himself gently from her.

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