Refused

Oh, that's a huge miss on their part, then... Cuz it simply shows one of the few success recipes the great khan used (which I'm definitely grateful for sharing for free) and would definitely make for more greatness out of khan and all of us.

It all started when Ruby let down her guards. She let an enemy into her house. Beryl was the sister to her husband's friend. That's how the got to know each other.

So like new friends, Beryl began visiting Ruby oftenly. And she would cook and spend time with her.

So one night, her husband Peter went out to buy weed. It was nothing unusual for Ruby since he did that often. He came back a few hours later and claimed he met some of his friends and they hang out for a few hours as they smoked. They had sex a couple of times and slept.

Fast forward to a few weeks later. Ruby discovered something and took her friend Beryl's phone. Guess what she found in the trash can?

Pictures of her husband and her backstabbing friend completely naked, posing in all the styles they could master. Some even had them stick their tongues out and middle finger pointing at the camera.

She had deleted them but she clearly doesn't know how to get rid of evidence.

Ruby was pissed. She had always known her husband was cheating but since she never had any evidence, she was always dismissed. When she looked at the date on the pictures, her heart broke. She remembered the day so well, it was the day he lied about getting weed, seems like the weed was Beryl.

She locked the door and threw the keys behind the sofa. She asked her friend about it and obviously, she lied. She showed her the pictures and suddenly, Beryl couldn't speak anymore, she had gone dumb!

Ruby beat the living daylights out of her. Neighbours got wind of what was going on due to the screams and called Beryl's mom to go save her daughter.

Her mom arrived and pleaded with Ruby to open the door but she didn't. She beat some sense into the girl some more before agreeing to open the door since plans to break it down were underway.

Her mother was pissed, seeking explanation as to why Ruby was ruthlessly beating her daughter. When she told her, she couldn't believe it. She completely denied that her daughter could do such a shameless thing, that she raised her well.

When the pictures were thrown at her face, she almost collapsed. She felt humiliated and asked her daughter where she learnt such because this kind of behaviour did not exist in the family.

She couldn't hold herself from beating her daughter like a toddler. Kicks and punches as they went home was all Beryl could see as she pleaded for her life, crying like there's no tomorrow.

Ruby then confronted her husband and after a few days of good behaviour, romance and the faked honeymoon phase, she forgave him and life went on.

A few weeks later, she decided to go to the village with her three year old son, to visit her mom. While in the village, my friend and I got wind of what was going on in her house in her absence.

Her husband Peter had brought in a slayqueen and had been living with her throughout the whole week that Ruby had been away. And to make matters worse, the shameless woman was seen parading herself in Ruby's different outfits.

So we decided that the next day, we would go see it for ourselves instead of spreading rumours we had not confirmed to our already distressed friend.

Early the next day, as my friend and I were preparing to go play detectives, Ruby walked in, pissed at us for not telling her what her old neighbor had just broken to her.

We explained ourselves and she calmed down. She then told us what she was planning.

She went back home and pretended that she knew nothing. She pretended to have a tummy ache so as not to have welcome-back sex and also not to sleep on the same bed he did his dirty deeds on.

She offered to sleep on the sofa so as not to disturb Peter and his son countless of times in the night. With the clothes she had on since she came from the village, she slept, with one eye open.

Like a fool that he is, he fell for it. Early in the morning, at 5.am, Ruby got up and tiptoed to Peter's wallet but he heard her.

She had to lie that she was hungry and only wanted to get breakfast as she had not eaten anything the previous night. Little did he know that Ruby had taken the little money that couldn't even last a week and fled.

She didn't carry anything, not even her clothes. She said they would remind her of where she came from and was disgusted that some other woman wore them.

Though it hurt her like a knife through the heart, she had to leave her poor son behind. Why? Because she had not the money nor the house to take care of her son.

She asked us, "So I should go out there, rent a small house and sleep on the floor while this son of a Jezebel fucks every girl in town? And enjoys his life while I suffer? No! Neither will I burden my mother with taking care of my son and I at this difficult times."

Her mother-in-law later called her, sweet talking her to go home so they can talk but she refused. She kept begging, saying that she's not afraid of taking care of her grandson, that she loves the boy so much but the boy needs both of his parents. She still refused.

She later called and told Ruby that she will take care of the boy but should never see her anywhere near them ever again or else she'll regret it.

And the stupid manwhore currently has a new catch, I wish the poor girl knew what kind of torture she's about to go through.

Peter called and threatened to kill her severally and because Ruby knew her husband well and what he was capable of, she had to move to another town, to live with a female friend where she got a job and is looking forward to getting her son back once she's stable.

I'm ramming on my two year old boyfriend's door like a thief being chased by a mob. Reason being, I just discovered that he has a five year old son that he kept hidden from me throughout our entire relationship.

How did I find out-- through fucking Facebook. His Mom-- my new enemy, uploaded a picture of the boy and tagged Maxwell for the whole world to see.

I'm supposed to marry him in a month's time, but how? How will I get married to a man when our relationship is based on a foundation of lies? Who knows what else he's lying about.

He swings the door open with his eyebrows raised in question. I push him aside and stand in the middle of the living room, waiting for the door to click shut before I can scream the whole roof off.

I'm impatiently tapping my foot on the black marble tiles as I wait for him to say something. It's stupid right? What would he say when he doesn't have a clue as to what is making my blood boil.

"Daddy, I can't reach the cup in the drawer."

I turn around so fast and almost tumble on my unbalanced feet. A sheer photocopy of Maxwell is staring at me behind tiny adorable eyes. I soften up immediately and grace the boy with a sweet genuine smile.

"Hello there cutie?" I coo.

"Hello." He whispers, shyly shuffling on his feet. I decide to interrogate him and he provides me with all the details I need. His name is Jayson and his Mom is away on a trip.

"Can we talk?" I direct at Maxwell.

"Not now!"

Jayson's eyes dance between me and his father's unending stare down. He takes his eyes off me to pull his son with him on the couch and I throw him a winning smile.

I take my seat directly facing him and intimidatingly cross my feet, with a smile on my face. I ain't going nowhere till we have the talk. He's purposefully avoiding the situation by having his son present in the room.

My eyes dart to the picture peacefully settled on the cream wall. Jayson's cheer-filled face at the beach is staring back at me. How had I missed this? I never bothered to ask if it was him because the boy in the picture is a mini version of him.

I dart my eyes around, studying his one bedroom apartment for the umpteenth time. His living room is dimly lit, a floor lamp the only source of light since his caramel brown curtains are tightly shut. The coffee table between us if filled with colouring books and crayons. Evidence of the boy's colouring skills. His 42" inch Tv adds some light to the room with slow old country music playing in a low volume.

The soft cinnamon brown carpet below my feet matches perfectly with the sofas and the armchair across the room.

Various types of paintings from old to new are splattered all over the wall. Pictures of him, his parents, friends and siblings grace the wall. A pang finds it's way to my chest, not one picture of me.

I look over at the two and find Jayson asleep on his father's chest. A worrisome look fillls his face.

With a smile on mine, I take the boy from his shaking arms and carry him to Max's bedroom which is at the end of the hallway. I return to find him pacing back and forth, his hand not leaving the bridge of his nose.

"Start talking." I order, my short fuse ready to blow at any time.

A fresh fragrant smell of lilies greet me once I step into the living room. The curtains are draped shut but the light won't have none of that as bits of it are peeking in through the top. Goosebumps find their way to my skin and my feet are freezing on the shiny black marble tiles that I've grown to love, an indication that the A.C is on.

The "53" inch Samsung Tv mounted perfectly on the cream-yellow wall is on, adding some light to the already dim room. The only sound in the room is from the ticking stylish clock since the Tv is on mute.

The living room is sparkling clean but messy. The maroon red five-seater couch is filled with throw pillows, a warm looking blanket and Sophie Kinsella's Can you keep a secret novel.

The black marble coffee table is occupied with loads of books from different authors across the globe. I drag my feet to the soft fluffy carpet matching the couch and armchair across the room.

I turn on the floor lamp next to me to lighten up the room, making the painting adorning the room visible. A photocopy of the famous milk maid among other old and new paintings graces the wall.

Carvings made from wood with different designs from birds, animals, ancient arts and many more decorate every single part of the room. A truck load of books are filled on a shelf at the corner of them room, evidence of my addiction for reading.

You can't sleep. Its the third time in a row. Your ability to sleep had been taken away from you, ever since you laid your eyes on that naked slim, black girl.

You have tried to block your thoughts and it had transferred into your dreams, you and the girl touching and kissing each other.

Restless, with no power supply, your thoughts begins to wander. You have always had a fondness for girls. It was unheard of, so you spoke about it to nobody.

You are just in first year. A student of political science. You had no friends. It wasn't your choice. You had told one of the pretty girls in your class, you liked her, as a joke, and the whole class had known about it.

They looked at you as strange, pitied your parents. It didn't stop them from coming to ask for your help when they needed it. After all, you are a bright student.

It had started as a little girl. When your female friends talked about boys, you would watch them, the way their mouths moved or the way their laughter sounded, excitement running through your body.

You had had a crush on Amaka, and had shared a kiss, which she thought innocent with you, as a parting gift, when you were offered admission into the university.

She had protested when you had started touching her breasts. You had told her it was your way of showing her you loved her.

When your friends call you weirdo for having no boyfriend, you say yes to the next guy that asks you out. Breaking up a few hours later. The opposite sex disgusted you.

The next morning, you discreetly watch your most beautiful roommate dress for school. Her boobs were the largest you had ever seen, you imagine your face in between them and smile inwardly.

"I will bath after you."

With the soap lather on her face, you get to watch her without being noticed. Your eyes forever lingering on her breasts.

"See as dis girl dey look person, you sure she no be les?"

You look up to see everybody looking at you. The girl was done bathing. You are fair, you can't hide the blood that rushes up your cheek, making you blush from embarrassment.

Chineke, she be les true true ooo

One by one, the girls start to lock the door to the bathroom, leaving you looking like an outcast.

You begin to bath very early, or very late. To avoid the girls.

In your second year, you rent a house off campus. You start going out with guys, just to be termed normal. Your relationships never last. You have sex with one or two of them, hoping it would change how you felt.

.

They looked at you as strange, pitied your parents. It didn't stop them from coming to ask for your help when they needed it. After all, you are a bright student.

It had started as a little girl. When your female friends talked about boys, you would watch them, the way their mouths moved or the way their laughter sounded, excitement running through your body.

You had had a crush on Amaka, and had shared a kiss, which she thought innocent with you, as a parting gift, when you were offered admission into the university.

She had protested when you had started touching her breasts. You had told her it was your way of showing her you loved her.

When your friends call you weirdo for having no boyfriend, you say yes to the next guy that asks you out. Breaking up a few hours later. The opposite sex disgusted you.

The next morning, you discreetly watch your most beautiful roommate dress for school. Her boobs were the largest you had ever seen, you imagine your face in between them and smile inwardly.

One by one, the girls start to lock the door to the bathroom, leaving you looking like an outcast.

You begin to bath very early, or very late. To avoid the girls.

In your second year, you rent a house off campus. You start going out with guys, just to be termed normal. Your relationships never last. You have sex with one or two of them, hoping it would change how you felt.

You secretly fantasize about girls. Touching yourself. Changing your gender on social networks to be able to have sex chats with girls. You are in a relationship, but you are never happy. You need a girlfriend.

You can't sleep. Its the third time in a row. Your ability to sleep had been taken away from you, ever since you laid your eyes on that naked slim, black girl.

You have tried to block your thoughts and it had transferred into your dreams, you and the girl touching and kissing each other.

Restless, with no power supply, your thoughts begins to wander. You have always had a fondness for girls. It was unheard of, so you spoke about it to nobody.

You are just in first year. A student of political science. You had no friends. It wasn't your choice. You had told one of the pretty girls in your class, you liked her, as a joke, and the whole class had known about it.

They looked at you as strange, pitied your parents. It didn't stop them from coming to ask for your help when they needed it. After all, you are a bright student.

It had started as a little girl. When your female friends talked about boys, you would watch them, the way their mouths moved or the way their laughter sounded, excitement running through your body.

You had had a crush on Amaka, and had shared a kiss, which she thought innocent with you, as a parting gift, when you were offered admission into the university.

She had protested when you had started touching her breasts. You had told her it was your way of showing her you loved her.

When your friends call you weirdo for having no boyfriend, you say yes to the next guy that asks you out. Breaking up a few hours later. The opposite sex disgusted you.

The next morning, you discreetly watch your most beautiful roommate dress for school. Her boobs were the largest you had ever seen, you imagine your face in between them and smile inwardly.

When you go to take your bath, you see the object of your sleeplessness, the stalls are filled with other girls.

"Is anybody after you?" She shook her head.

"I will bath after you."

With the soap lather on her face, you get to watch her without being noticed. Your eyes forever lingering on her breasts.

"See as dis girl dey look person, you sure she no be les?"

You look up to see everybody looking at you. The girl was done bathing. You are fair, you can't hide the blood that rushes up your cheek, making you blush from embarrassment.

Chineke, she be les true true ooo

One by one, the girls start to lock the door to the bathroom, leaving you looking like an outcast.

You begin to bath very early, or very late. To avoid the girls.

In your second year, you rent a house off campus. You start going out with guys, just to be termed normal. Your relationships never last. You have sex with one or two of them, hoping it would change how you felt.

You secretly fantasize about girls. Touching yourself. Changing your gender on social networks to be able to have sex chats with girls. You are in a relationship, but you are never happy. You need a girlfriend.