BISI - The Other Woman


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By Jon Doe

On a white carpet the petal landed, a stark contrast to its hue. It lay there at the mercy of the world around it, unable to affect its fate, a finality to its tale. All it could do was lie and wait, feel as life fades. Its end already written while set in stone. The opening and closing of a door the author (more than book authors) and finisher of its fate.

Climbing out of bed Bisi walked through the door of the bathroom. In front of her stood an image she had fought hard to win back. A tentative finger reached out touching the imprints his hands had left on her neck. She winced from the pain. In it an inexplicable pleasure; peaks hardening through white snow, lotus flower experiencing morning dew. She reached out to touch the image in front of her. So young was her thought, finger tracing two unadorned full lips. Turning she stepped towards the bath.

Hot water gushed from the shower but Bisi did not step inside. She returned to the mirror from whence she came. Once again her finger traced the hand print bruises on her neck wincing from the pain. From the counter she grabbed a few pill bottles popping different amounts into her mouth and swallowing. The bathroom soon fogged up with steam obscuring her image in the mirror. Her finger reached for the mirror, a single goal in mind. Finishing she appraised her work. A simple heart surrounding the names Namdi and Bisi.


She uttered while giggling, relic of a school girl. Her nightie made its home on the tiled floor of the bathroom. She stepped in to meet the nearly scalding hot water. The ever increasing steam soon obscured the art she had created. Standing there an altered state took her, mind wandering while the water traveled along every curve of her body. Eyes closed she let her tightly kept soul free knowing the darkness would be kept at bay for a time. Memories that had been suppressed due to the risk of what else they bore came to the surface. She became unaware of the passage of time, reliving moments of the past she could never return too.

Stepping out of the shower her eyes went straight to the mirror. Seeing nothing her heart filled with angst. Swiftly she made her way to the bathroom counter, a drawer flung open. Rummaging through she paused, her hand on a necklace hidden at the back. Lovingly she rubbed the attached pendant, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Hand balled up in a fist she rubbed the tear away grabbing a now visible lipstick. Popping the cap she admired the hue of red it bore. Fiercely she began her work again, the pressure exerted deeply imprinting on the mirror. The simple heart surrounding the names Namdi and Bisi returned, now a deep shade of red.


Peace enveloped him, soft and fluffy. Among the white velvety clouds his ethereal body floated. Beneath, a river of flowing stars twinkling with answers to the mundane and the profound. Onward in its embrace his body sunk, slowly dissipating to become one with the twinkles beneath. Tranquility held him, cocooning him in an embrace that felt so familiar evoking a memory once thought lost but never truly forgotten. A woman appeared before him. There was a simple beauty to her. In her gaze he saw an emotion burning into existence, blazing bright, blazing first, blazing true. Love.


“You need to go back Namdi, it is not time”

With a ping the world shattered, fading to nothing only to be forgotten.

An eye opened to a red world. The scent of gasoline thick in the air, overwhelming the senses. From his ears he could only hear a dull ringing. Muscles tensing, Namdi’s body attempted to move but was held in place by the airbag and seat belt. To his left, through the window, he could faintly make out the outline of an old man. His eye closed once again as he fell unconscious.

“He’s alive! Someone help me get the door open!”

“There’s a small fire starting, shouldn’t we put that out first?”

“Then get a fire extinguisher! Or do you want to spit on it?”

“What if it explodes?”

The man began to edge away from the site of the crash along with some of the crowd. Frustrated, the old man trying to force open the passenger side door pointed a finger at the spineless man.

“Man up! It is no where near the fuel tank. Will no one help me?!”

Within the sea of people, the crowd parted; a few university students elbowing their way through. A young boy in the lead held two fire extinguishers.

“Sir what can we do?”

“Two of you work one fire extinguisher, the rest of you help me break the glass and drag him out through the window.”

Using the butt of the second fire extinguisher the man hammered away at the window. Shards of glass tumbled down.

“We need a blade to cut the seat belt”

“Will this work?”

Surprised, the man took a switchblade from the outstretched hand of a university student. With quick work he popped the airbag and cut away the seat belt. Blood still ran down a cut on Namdi’s forehead pooling in his left eye. With a handkerchief the old man wiped the blood away as best he could checking for and finding a weak but steady pulse. Helping hands lifted Namdi out through the window, an ambulance finally arriving at the scene. Paramedics ran to the old man and students, stretcher in hand. Carefully they placed him unto the stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. Before the doors closed, the young boy brought a phone and handed it to the paramedic.

“His phone. Maybe try calling someone on it.”

He watched as the ambulance sped of into the distance. He wished it was as fast as an air ambulance.

Blinking eyes struggled to adjust to the contrast of darkness and light. A breath brought with it a fragrance of drugs, disinfectant and violet. A groan escaped Namdi’s lips as he attempted to move. Around him were monitors displaying different forms of lines numbers and words, their beeps an orchestra with a terrible lack of skill. Eyes no longer struggling his gaze finally fell on her.

She sat there on a chair that was more function than comfort. Tracks ran down her cheeks, mascara running. Worry lines were etched on her delicate features, thin lips quivering. Words caught in her throat unable to come out. Instead she moved towards him. Watching her close the distance, Namdi was overcome.

“A lovely angel in front of me, I must be in heaven.”

His face stung, the physical pain nothing in comparison to the emotional one he felt when her slim graceful fingers came in contact with his cheek.

“How could you!”

With that outburst she buried her face in his chest, tears pouring from her eyes in a flood that wouldn’t end. Pain coursed through his bandaged ribs but he said nothing, merely wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close.

To be continued



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2 Replies to “BISI – THE OTHER WOMAN 09

  1. Nnamdi am surprised bisi can push u over the edge like this. Actually it’s ur conscience prickling u. But this suicidal option is way too much to purge urself from guilt

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