Rafiat 1 year ago

Bamitale (last The Night)

The hatred Tale feels for her sister is beyond the sea. Her presence irks her more than feaces would. But what happens when Tife comes around with an unfaltering determination?

The cold night breeze blew directly at her; she shuddered; opening the windows had been intentional, and her reaction to the weather shouldn't be a surprise. But she knew the feeling she had wasn't that of cold; it was something she couldn't decipher, the thought of something bad about to happen stuck to her like a plague. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she snorted like she was any comfortable before. In a minute, she heard the sound of heels clanking on the stairs heading towards her room; she was sure of who the intruder would be. Even if she was in the deepest of sleep, that footstep can't be mistaken for any other.

Bracing herself to face her nightmare, she raised her left brow defiantly. Snorting, "to what do I owe this noncommittal visit, sis." Bamitale spat bitterly, throwing daggers at her sisters with her eyes; if only looks could kill. Bólúwatifẹ́ took a quick glance at the room before returning her gaze to her elder sister, who was two years older. With a cold gaze, her face devoid of any emotion, she moved towards the opened window. Staring deep into the night, she cleared her throat.

"If you intend to commit suicide, I would prefer you go to the Third mainland bridge and do that there. Don't make this poor house sacred with your awful death." "Well, that won't be an option for me until I have your ass fried!" Bamitale spat.

Laughing sorely, she gave her a pity look, "you already have your ass fried being stuck in that chair. So I guess no ass frying for you." "I still wonder why you came into our lives. My parents and I were doing just fine!" "Yeah, obviously," Bólúwatifẹ́ responded, sounding bored. "I was their Bamitale, the one who was supposed to stay. You should ask about the details of your name; you were never planned. Which means you had always been a mistake!" Bólúwatifẹ́ stuttered with a smirk; she held the sides of her sister's seat, bending low to face her. "So much for your Bamitale. Cause this Tale doesn't seem like it would last the night or few years to come to me." She replied, straightening up, throwing a glance at her sister's leg being stuck in a wheelchair, "you can hardly do anything by yourself except open this pit of yours you call a mouth."

If Bólúwatifẹ́ had noticed the tears that pricked at her sister's eyes, she must have ignored them. Bamitale felt anger and hurt prick at her heart; she felt so bitter, trying not to let her get to her, she queried her instead. "What are you doing here anyway. I thought I told you to never step foot here again." "Why would I want to be here? It's just as important to me as it would be to you. But let me ask, how much do you want your hands soaked in blood?" "So much, as long as I have yours on it." Bamitale croaked, moving her wheels towards the window. Rolling her eyes, Bólúwatifẹ́ sat on the single couch next to the window opposite her sister. "Sometimes, I wonder if you haven't been seeing too much of fast and furious."

"What the hell are you doing here? Your presence irks me!" She questioned again, this time in extreme anger." "Calm your nerves; I hate being here too. Now, I have some things to share with you that would change both our lives for the better. Even though I want you out of it. But anyway, you want to hear it or not?" Bamitale stared hard at her sister; it's been five years since she saw the brute, but having her come by her house around past eight. Then something was definitely amiss; seeing the determined look on her face Bólúwatifẹ́ had no intention of leaving without fulfilling her mission; she sighed deeply; she couldn't have it either way. Clearing her throat, she stared at her squarely, "Fine!" "Took you long enough." Bólúwatifẹ́ sat upright, squaring her shoulders; she raised her head, "So, shall we begin!"

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