All of my thoughts

So much, on me. The pressure is suffocating, I struggle to breathe, slow shallow pants, if I take a deep breath, I'll explode. My dad is a pastor, my mom, an evangelist, my Uncle, a bishop, my aunt, in the women's ministry, my whole family, religious. So, nothing less is expected of me. I have to be in every youth group, attend every church service and babysit all the children in church. I have to be the perfect example of a godly child. They don't care, they don't care that I do not want to attend Bible study or night vigil, they don't care that i do not want to give out my stuff or share my bedroom with children that pee on the blankets or adults that do not stop prying, they do not care that I do not want to have a birthday party in church or sing in the church choir, they do not care. They don't care that I want to listen to rap music, because 'the lines of Shakur are devilish', mother says, they don't care that I just want to have one weekend...

 Dear first born child, Remember how we walked around with a chip on our shoulders at eighteen because we were free from all the grueling chores we did and scoldings that we endured even if we were innocent of the crime? Do you remember? How we walked around, dazed with the freedom of newfound adulthood, thinking ourselves responsible?  We thought ourselves responsible, we made our decisions, we took risks, we thought minor situations major and flared up at the slightest notion of being thought irresponsible. We thought we were responsible and sometimes we just wanted to throw off all these 'huge' responsibilities off our shoulders. We however didn't know what responsibility was until Papa died and we had to face the glaring realities of being fatherless. We thought Papa's job was easy, all he ever did was shout and shake his head in disapproval of whatever we did and the friends we kept, but then he died and we had to think fast. How would Papa be buried? How would...

You have misjudged me. Yes, you just snorted in disapproval and one thought ran foremost in your mind, dear reader. " I thought she was cynical and didn't like the dude, she's all talk and no action. " That is true, I did say I was cynical and this man's attitude when we first met had bolstered it, but then, that day with Lanre revealed another side to me I thought I had successfully suppressed. I liked a man to be dominant, a take charge kind of guy and this guy had just blown me out of the water, I found myself helpless, unable to fight all the feelings that were suddenly coursing through me, and so I had gotten into the car. So, dear reader, do you understand now? Do you understand why I seemed indecisive and weak willed? This did cost me a lot as you are soon to find out. Years down the line when I first started seeing a therapist, she said I had had little to no control over my emotions and my emotions had, for the most part, influenced every single decisio...

I was walking down the road that led to the halls of residence when I heard a familiar voice shout 'Suze! ' I rolled my eyes and kept on walking knowing the caller would persist, and I wasn't wrong. 'Suze! Yo, Suze! wait up! ' I groaned inwardly and stopped, making a very quick about-face. 'yes, Lanre, what do you want? ' this time, I added in my head, as I watched him walk up to me, quite briskly. Lanre was a cute guy, swoon worthy and he had the girls in droves, but for some reason, he liked me, hmph, I thought. He smiled and I could see the beautiful teeth and dimples in both cheeks that drove all the girls wild, 'now, now, babe, I been trying to reach you, y'know, you been avoiding me ", he said as he took my hand in his. I rolled my eyes again, did I mention that his entire family lived abroad in the USA and his father had sent him down to Nigeria to teach him a lesson in humility? I couldn't say it was working, since he was expecting ...

My name is Debola Susan Cole, my friends call me Suze. I am a hopeless romantic and given to flights of fancy and endless bouts of daydreaming. I found love at sixteen, lost it at seventeen, found it again at eighteen and I was ecstatic, but then he said it was just a summer fling, three whole months of romance ended because he was going back to the university. I was hurt and resolved to become cynical, I decided to shelf romance and become a real person. I got my head out of the clouds and planted my feet steadily on the ground, after all, true love had eluded me several times, so I wasn't going to pine for it anymore. I lived life quite peacefully, void of any major drama and earthshaking events, until I met him.   I write so you will understand why I made the decisions that I made. I write so you will know how I felt, what I felt and how often I was unable to express what I really felt. I write because this is the only way you will know the truth, the only way you will know wha...

I felt it. I felt the rush of adrenaline through my veins and my nerves were shot with the pain that comes with anxiety. I felt every single emotion, I was a rollercoaster with faulty levers, hurtling towards the ground. I couldn't quiet the voices in my head, they grew louder with every passing second and I tried to quiet them, I scratched and clawed at my head and they laughed at my vain efforts as I watched blood run down my fingers and trickle down my chin. Slowly, my blood turned to ice, my feet became blocks of lead and I wondered, "is this how it ends?" I closed my eyes in a finality so sure and waited for the bliss that comes with that splat on the ground. And I heard a splat all right, my mom smacked my legs and yelled something, I blinked once, then twice, it was just a dream. 😂, I decided to try this for a change. Do read through and tell me what you think. P.S: the fiction series will be starting soon. PP.S: I missed all of you. Did you miss me?