I dropped my purse on Christie's bed and lay on the neatly laid bed; I'd always loved the gentle rose scent of her bed sheet. She would soak her bed sheet for hours in rose water after washing. Khadijah was still busy on phone; that must be Al hassan, that poor Fulani boy. It's funny how you couldn't access him fortunately or the other way round. With someone like Khadijah you can't have a clue. This girl loves and hates all at the same time. Don't be surprised how even people she detests most often turn into her besties within minutes; it reminds me of her hatred for Aiman. I wonder what she really detests about my very own beautiful Aiman as I like to call him.
I soon fell into a deep slumber but it wasn't before long that a spicy smoke choked me back to life. I was coughing and struggling for life. khadijah was asleep too when my coughing woke her up. she rushed to the door but it was jammed so she came back for me.
"Where is your inhaler?" she asked almost in tears; I pointed to its empty can. I emptied it already but still couldn't grab my breath. She went ahead to search for my other inhaler in my purse. She kept searching; I kept struggling until I felt a cold breeze blow me away...
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NOMMIE
Non-FictionThis was not the first cake it's being four years and still counting, this time it wasn't the usual tight hug , he pulled the cotton behind him down, he wasn't smiling as he touched my shoulder i felt the heat, it was burning out of his skin at tha...
