Bethrand Chibuike @betty

We were cool friends back then, one would easily affirm that we were dating but it was all platonic.
I knew this girl from the dust that she was created from, I knew her family, and her friends and perfected reading her not-too-obvious habits and moods.

Well, something happened to this friendship.
I began to withdraw myself. I wouldn't place the reason on an external or physical distraction because stretching this distance was unconsciously out of my will.

Trying to force myself to maintain her as a friend was so hard. It was as if my spirit was fighting against her presence.
She would take this way, and I will take another.
She noticed and confronted me about it afterward but I couldn't give a reason for the sudden dislike, it was just natural.

She started developing annoying attitudes around me, responding aggressively to my greetings, attacking the messages I sent on the group chat, and trying so hard to get on my nerves. It was the only way she could let out her frustration and I couldn't blame her.

She started sharing fake rumors about me, claiming that I asked her out and that was why she cut off our friendship. I took it as a joke when one of my friends who she told the moonlight tale to narrated what she was telling people. Guess what?
I didn't react to it.

A particular day, was a hot afternoon, she called and started claiming how truthful the things she told people were. Probably didn't react the way she expected so she started throwing insults and I pitied the day I spoke to this girl.

It further reduced her to zero. I saw her as nothing from then and after I typed a warning message, I blocked her.
I stopped saying "hi" whenever we met and avoided her entirely and I was happy when she her self gave me same energy.

It was just a week ago, I started receiving calls from her. I was unsure if to pick or not, but what was the stress?
She pleaded to see me in school and I agreed.

We met and she apologized and acted all mannered, but guess what?
She's still a zero and will remain that.

At each illuminated area I approached, I regained my confidence and composure, my strength. The strength which leaves with the brightness.

My name is Ricia, a young pretty lady who loves taking evening-night strolls. Taking short walks just before bedtime was a kind of secret therapy that mounts my calmness and inner peace.

I heard the men exclaim in dismay when the electricity that propelled the station where they watched football matches was cut out. Their sharp roar thundered across the streets and just as it died out, darkness engulfed everywhere.

With fear, I increased my pace. I could still trace my way back home despite the heavy darkness that loomed. Finding my way shouldn't be hard because I regularly used the paths.

I was about to sing and lighten the air but a force held my throat, I couldn't find my voice.
I struggled to shake the fears that were creeping in on me but it wouldn't.
My heartbeat raced and the wind blew at my face, the kind that made whistling noises. I trembled and each time I tried to find my balance, I heard sounds of a person from behind, and when I turn, I wouldn't see a person.

The night was going to be my last, my heart wept. My mum can't bear it, she won't stop looking for me.
Was brought back to reality when an owl screeched right in my ears, having me jump and scream for help.

After I realized what made the sound, I started off running and I heard footsteps running behind me too. I was muttering words of prayer and threw my legs as far as I could but I was caught, whoever or whatever that was chasing me must have taken a shortcut and emerged in front of me because I ran into a black blindfold.

I was able to maneuver them, dragging the blindfold from my face still running.
At last I flung the door to my room open, scampered in and locked.

After I got my strength back, I gazed at the blindfold on my hand and it was a black nylon. Did I really see any figure?
The wind blew light objects around then and I must have ran into...

The morning began with a hushed calmness and a hopeful atmosphere. As I opened my eyes, I couldn't shake off the underlying tension that gripped me. We had a daunting exam looming over us, scheduled for 11 am, and on top of that, an intricate assignment had to be handed in that very morning.

I was engrossed in the assignment, consumed by the fear of disappointing the strict individual who had assigned it to us. Due to this, I sacrificed my time for reading and studying. The result was an inadequate preparation as I couldn't dedicate enough time to gather the necessary knowledge.

I found myself fervently working on the assignment from 4 in the morning until approximately 11:53 am. Just as I was submerged in the task, absorbed in every word, my phone startled me with a call. It was a friend informing me that our peers were already being ushered into the exam hall. Panic set in, forcing me to abandon my work in haste and sprint towards the examination venue.

Exhausted and flustered from rushing, I commenced the exam. However, I quickly realize that my lack of preparation had left me vulnerable. The questions and concepts became unfamiliar, and I struggled to conjure up the appropriate responses. It was disheartening to grasp that my limited reading had compromised my ability to perform well.

To add salt to the wound, news broke that the submission date for the assignment had been extended until the following Tuesday. The flurry of mixed feelings washed over me, a strange blend of relief and regret. It felt as though all my efforts and time had been squandered unnecessarily. The opportunity to allocate more time and energy towards the assignment had been taken away, leaving a lingering sense of waste.

In the quiet aftermath that followed, I couldn't help but reflect on the events of that day.

Felix was a carefree and jovial soul, known for his infectious laughter. However, he suffered from a peculiar problem - stinky shoes and soles.

His hostel mates teased him about it, and Felix felt deeply humiliated. Felix refused to let his shoe odor define him and focused on his academics and art. He realized that just like a flower, he too had the power to bloom and transform himself. Felix took extra care of himself, practicing good hygiene and trying out natural remedies. Despite his efforts, the smell did not completely go away, but Felix refused to be disheartened.

His hostel mates noticed Felix's determination, kindness towards others, and passion for art. They realized they had overlooked the amazing person he was inside. One by one, Felix's hostel mates apologized for their behavior, and they were inspired by Felix's resilience and his ability to rise above the taunts and embrace his true self.

Felix's journey became a source of inspiration for his entire college community. His artistic talent and the positive energy he radiated became admired, and Felix's smelly shoe and sole no longer defined him.

Just know that you can convert your weakness for a personal strength

He shot webs out of his wrists, he was cool.
A smooth dive into the air and he'd float to a any direction he wanted.

Swinging from tall buildings to another, falling from the sky and sticking on surfaces easily seemed so exciting and I was to get this strength and loads of unique capabilities just by letting it sting.
Yes, I could find the source to all the strengths, they were all around me, back in the farms behind the yard.

I turned off the TV and went for the source. Caught them on the webbed lines they made. I took them all out and inserted in a tin until I had different breeds of the arachnids in the container.

It wasn't so painful, I said to myself after I received my first sting.
I quickly, after the second bite, flung my hand in the usual way my role model does, but no web came from my wrist.

Who knows?, maybe I don't have the powers yet because the right spider haven't bitten me, so I had about seven more feast on my flesh but still nothing, just a swollen neck where I placed them to bite.

My body was covered with itching boils the next day.
The pain I felt throughout my skin was excruciating.
Maybe I'll be a spiderman after this illness, but once I am fine again, I dare not go near another spider.

"Ike don't play with the wires", my mom said as I searched the toolbox in the storeroom for pliers.

I couldn't naturally agree with my mom not to try fixing the light. Neighbors had lights, their electric bulbs creating a beautiful reflection over their fences, except our home.

I knew that the fault must have been coming from the electric meter or the fuse or the connections. There was no way it won't fall into those three places, I had thought.

I knew I would be safe, for the fact that I had my screwdriver and pliers was enough to fix the problem without stress.

I loosened the screws on the meter reader, opened it, and tapped the screwdriver on a complex wire running from the upper end of the box to the reader. Our bulb shined a light as I tapped.

After compressing the wires into the box, the light remained steady. With a smile, I coupled back the screws and packed my tools.

My mom was smiling, she muttered some words of praise. My sisters were also excited and dived at the television, and my elder brother was struggling to plug in his charger.

What were you expecting?
For electricity to shock me?
😄 you are a bad boy!

The end biko.