Featured Fiction: Girl On Fire By Ude Ugo

Ibim, what have you done!

Your mother screamed as she rushed to carry you. She looked at the last pages of her journal as the flames in the hearth eat them up and notices how you ogle at it. She shakes her head, children and curiosity, she mutters.

***

Mother was wrong. You weren't just curious, you had and still have a thing for fire. In other places, you would see a therapist but where you're from, it's demonic oppression. You love the feel of flames on your skin and the scars on your hands look good to you.

At 8, you had burnt all of Mother's books, in art class you drew nothing but flames. When you burnt down the house at 12, you were sent far away but had to be brought back when you fell terribly ill. You were left to your demons and you burnt every little thing, secretly.

***

You sit in the woods and watch the house burn. You couldn't control your joy when you got the anonymous call to set the house ablaze. You did this for a living. At 25, you are wanted for arson. Even the authorities would be shocked to see the petite lady who burnt down things.

You had set the house ablaze and even though you wanted to stay, you couldn't. From where you're sitting, you see two fire trucks pass. It's a big fire. You grin widely but then it fades when you hear a woman who's being restrained from running, scream.

A child. A nanny.

Sick. Stayed home. It can't be! You thought there was no one home.

You run home and make a call;

'Man, you never told there was a child!'

Pause.

Her punishment?! WTF! How could you be this mean!!

The line goes dead. Your breath catches in your throat.

***

You step into your barn and undress. Petrol on your skin, you start a fire. You sit in it and breathe in. It would be hours later people see flames. By then you're a bundle of charred flesh.

- Ude Ugo

Comments

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

RIP: Return If Possible (Ode to my High School crush)

She would wink at me from the corner of her eyes. She would dare to slap the tallest in my class if he dares bully me for penning his name in my list of noise makers. She would share her pen when mine is spent. She would help me take notes when sick I lay in bed. She played my advocate even when I least deserve it. Her height, though intimidating earned more of my admiration. Her fingers Her palms though long and bold compared to my petite own were my favourite to hold. She was loud and noisy not never made the list. She would speak Igbo and wink 'you dare not write my name' Her drawings, I did when others I snub. JSS 3 to SSS 1 I crushed on this pretty girl But I was too shy to ink that poem. I left without letting you know how much I care. Had no time to appreciate your kind gestures undeserved defense... You were my crush. Augusta, When I found first Facebook you were the first I searched to add... In vain I searched You were not found. I stalked the walls of our cl...

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog