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Short stories: Vampires

It's almost a day gone. And I can't say for once ,this is what I have done today, or accomplished, something like a rewarding task done. At times I feel my presence in this world, is like a burden on the world itself, something like an out of place object. Like I'm here for nothing. Colours and weather seems not to be friendly with me, my shadow at times even disagree with me. I wake up at night and ask God, if he has answers to my questions, but all I get is this deafening silence that does more damage to my brain than cancer.

This is not living, neither is it fulfilling, just like an experiment, am just like a mouse being used to prove a theory. But if I may ask, do I really have to go through this everyday? why was I born into this world, when my duty to be in it is not even defined. God could have done better than featuring me in his latest horror flicks. But it's like am just a product of tricks being played by some heavenly being up there. Am I frustrated.

Enough of the wailing, I said to myself, what can I do to better my present situation. But how can you improve yourself when all the factors of life are not working with you. something like a grand conspiracy which I'm just unfortunate to be part of. I know it's not fair but what can I do, just have to keep playing the game till my time is up.

Don't have to worry about blazing out in glory, or something like that, its one way out and one way in. Like a cattle bred for slaughter.

Friends,what am I thinking, people like me don't have friends, we only have acquaintances, they only come and go, trying to see if you measure up to the friendship level. like if I have what it takes to stay in the "clique" thing.
What if all these was a test of my real personality?, to see if can stand this on-going heat, if I can take charge of situations around me. I guess not, my addiction to the dark side had done me more favour, than been on the good side. If I could find my own salvation out of this place of pain, locate my own gateway to paradise. But I had this fling with paradise once, a beautiful lady, a passer-by just for no cause, she smiled at me .gosh it was heaven to me. That was just what I needed at that time, sort of refreshment. Till I exit out of this ghetto I will take that with me. And nobody, not even with all the sorrow in this world will deprive me of that.

Then what would be my story? what do I tell my unborn seed's ,that I was just an actor playing his part, and the curtains are about to be pulled down on me, when the ovation is even at its minimal. No I tell them that I tried, but I wont stop trying, maybe I failed trying but I never stopped. I see people dressed in fancy suits and clothes, I pity them, because they try to cover so much sorrow, they suffocate themselves up in their fancy outfits.

But me! I lived life, and I did not allow life to leave me instead, I had in all sorted out, in my own way. And when I'm gone it shall read on my tombstone," He had life figured out, he lived it out". That's out I want it, hope they that would find my body would be kind enough to have it that way.

I'm just another hopeless, homeless man on the street. My home is not where my heart is, but where my heart would be when I'm gone .I'm just a closing page in this book called LIFE.

Learn more about this author, Damola Oladele.
Contact this writer Click here to send this author comments or questions.


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