Mothers « Seyi Sandra David

Tobias Amos slid the knife into the drawers, stealing a quick look back. He stared at his hands in dismay; it was as red as the sweet chilli sauce Mama bought a day earlier.

‘Where are you, Tobias?’

Mama’s voice bellowed a few yards away. He scanned the room in nanoseconds; saw the red gown Mama loved wearing on special occasions hanging loosely on the sparsely filled wardrobe. He dashed towards it, yanked it off the rails, wrapping it delicately around his crimson fingers, allowing the blood to soak through, his eyes the colour of a limpid pool.

He closed his eyes and was transported to the events of eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds earlier. He could feel the knife ripping through the supple milky flesh, the bones cracked, the gurgles of blood splintered about the basement like the paintings of Michelangelo. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his long scrawny neck.

Mama entered the tiny room, she took in everything, the deranged look on her son’s face belied the calmness she felt. Tobias Amos stood still like a statue, watching his mother’s reaction.

There was an uneasy silence.

‘What have you done?’ She asked in an icy tone, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

There was no answer. He kept his eyes down, all the feeling of conquest and elation he’d felt had evaporated like a mist in the night.

‘Tobias Amos, what have you done?’ This time, Mama inched closer, towering over her whimpering son, whose bravado had dissipated…

******

I haven’t written for quite a while but today, this just came pouring out. I have lots of manuscripts I’m working on, and lumping this with other unfinished projects is a mammoth task. However, I don’t believe in letting a good story plot go to waste. We’ll see how this goes!

I hope you’ll all have a wonderful weekend. I’ve visited several websites and blogs, if I haven’t been to yours, please bear with me, I’ll touch base soon.

Much love friends!

:):)

Watchman (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The angel fell down with a thud and grabbed hold of Arianna, she spurned round and screamed, her eyes turned red and her mother shook her so she could come back to reality.

”You’re safe now, it was all a dream,” she whispered stroking her hair and singing softly until she slept again, her head in her mother’s arms.

Arianna’s mom gently laid her on the bed and pulled the duvet up to her chin and silently tiptoed out of the room but before she closed the door, her daughter whispered,

”He is with me mom, I am no longer afraid.”

A light shone above her head while a huge mysterious man sat by the window pane, watching her sleep. The night was quiet but Arianna’s snoring was like a slow ballad in a quiet night. The man watching sleep smiled and waited, he would stay with her until dawn and for the rest of her life.

Her mother smiled and closed the door, but she lingered outside her daughter’s door, listening for any sound but she heard nothing and then she walked to her own room, safe in the knowledge that Arianna’s sleep will no longer be punctuated with nightmares.

But is Arianna safe?

This is just a short illustration intended for this post.

Like Arianna, we live in a world fraught with dangers but we need to have an anchor, someone we can trust, somebody to run to when the going gets tough, someone to sing with in time of jubilee, and someone to talk to in our moment of fear.

We cannot leave our lives to chance, blown about by every wind of doctrine, we need a watchman, someone to care for our soul, to give us a reason for living.

I believe nobody was born as a mistake, there is purpose to every life, a reason for our existence.

I have found mine, have you found yours?