The Bride Who Murdered Her Groom: A Stories Collection

Beautiful and sharp-witted, Sophia Solochi—blamelessly eighteen—understands that she must not ever fall in love. If she does, any peculiar man she has adored will not live what will befall him. In unquestionable words, he will die. Fast. Surely. And frightfully. Why would he perish, you may marvel? Sophia, also true with her female descent, is cursed. Any lad whom she falls for is destined to yield up his ghost in her very own arms and care. When she moves with her mother to Brownton to begin a fresh and unimpaired life, far away from their ancient calamities and sorrows, the worst things imaginable happen to them. Sophia cannot resist falling in love with Alex Ramirez, a strikingly handsome but in-a-short-time to-be Engineering postgraduate at Brownton University. Here, whilst pursuing a Fashion and Designing degree, she furtively repeats the self-same pursuit and engagement that effected insufferable agony and bitterness in her bygone days. Falling in love is extremely perilous, she


7. Obession

I could not believe it! Alex had captured snapshots of the two of us just so he could boast to his friends about the new catch—who was me, without query—that he had just caught?



Unbelievable! How dare he? I seethed in rage and fury and thought out to call and shout him at that precise moment, which I did not ever accomplish or dare to enter upon. I had promised him I wasn’t going to check out his Face-book wall, which is what I had exactly done. There was no way on Earth I was going to give him a bell at this particular hour. Ten past ten. I had to sleep. Absolutely.


I wondered what went on in a man’s mind when he is presumably falling in love. What? How did his thoughts go and his emotions come to be? I wondered quietly.


I couldn’t sleep easily and painlessly. I was sleepless and restless in other words. What could be the cause? I had no idea. Maybe putting on some music would help. Maybe. Following my return from the bathroom and joint toilet, I threw myself onto to my bed and grabbed my earphones and linked them to my phone and finally my ears and then played on some music.


The Hammer-And-Tongs—a rock band, sang:


Blood and gore

There is too much blood and gore

Blood and gore

There is too much blood and gore around me


I want to wolf down blood and gore

I am so famished and voraciously rapacious

I am like a zombie


Coming out to get you tonight


I walk naked like I don’t give a shit

I hunt naked like I have no common sense at all

I kill naked like I have no Spirit in me

I feast on your flesh naked like I am on a spree


Damn it! I listened to no such kind of craggy crap. Did I say crap? Should be songs solely. My apology! Maybe before I had fallen in love, something horror and hellish-like like would have amused me, but now, I wanted something different. I tried a different song.


Osward Chama’s ‘You Are My Butterfly’:


Is that you walking down the street?

Is that you, baby?

Look, the boys are about to snatch you away from me

Look, the women have began to gossip

About some silly thing you said to your sister last night


Baby, I want you to know always

You are the girl that has arrested my heart and senses

You are that girl I dream about every night, angel

You are that lady love deeply and sincerely

You are that girl I would like to marry














When I look into your eyes


I can see my future with you

When I look into your soul

I can see how more brilliant and blazing


Your love for me keeps on growing


You are as lovely as the stars


Arrayed orderly and delightfully about me

Lovely as a butterfly

When ravishing and enchanting it hovers in the air


Yes, you are my butterfly


It worked. In no time, I began to fall asleep, which is what I had hoped for when first putting on the song. It was somewhere in the middle of the night when I awoke to pop off my earphones out of my ears and sleep calmly and quietly. Yes, I got rid of the ear deadening and deafening drum that struck and plagued me. It was worthwhile the peaceable and trouble-free sleep, wasn’t it? Yes, it sure was.


I woke up the next morning thinking and ruminating about Alex first. I missed him and his voice and his touch and body. Not sexually as in meaning and connotation. I just wished to see him face to face with no veil or great distance existing between the two of us. Could he be missing me as much as I missed him? Could he indeed? I had no idea.


I discovered a text on my phone that glorious morning from the man himself, lex26ramirez. It was an email I should rather say—yes like him, I held a g-mail account. The subject of his message was ‘Mind Going Out For a Stroll With Me This Afternoon’:


Good morning, Sophia. I am inviting you to come by for a stroll with me late this afternoon. Around four or five o’clock. What is your say? If yes, I can meet you up @ MacDonald’s. We have one MacDonald’s in this town on Mutondo Street. Google maps can help you find where it is actually located.


I replied back immediately. In any case, the email had been sent to me two hours back at twenty past four that morning:


Morning, Alex. I accept your invitation to go out for a stroll with you. It would be my utmost and sincere pleasure. I will meet you up at this MacDonald’s and it will be my work and research to find out where it is located. I will not fail or disappoint you either. So please, don’t worry about me. I will arrive safely and sound without getting lost or astray. Yes, I will. Take care!


Ten minutes later, I had gotten the response:


Thanks, my dear. I will not fail or disappoint you either. Lots of love.


I replied instantly:


Lots of love 2 you too.


And he came back:



Gentle kiss on your cheek from me! M-w-am!


I giggled to myself. Alex. He could be so humorous and jocose, couldn’t he? Of course, he could be. And I loved him more for that. Yes, I did. Hang on a second. I wanted to ask him about that picture of mine which he had been discussing with ‘Brian The Hulk’ on Face-book. But then no, it was inappropriate and unsound for me to go about that granted that I had given my vow for a vow and my word for a word. Oh yes, it was! That said and reflected over, I did not consider raising it up again another time.


While I went about my labor and work that day, I asked myself continually the three things I loved Alex for. Three things that if they were not available and existing in him would have me disfavor and dislike him. What were they exactly? First—which is what had towed me to him in the first place—he was simply handsome and nice-looking. Second, he was kindly and well-disposed. And third, he was merely Alex! I loved everything he was (not every little bit of thing about him though) and I adored certain things he did. There we had it. Three reasons why I was insatiably and derangedly growing in love with this blameless-looking lad.


I later on thought about what I would have to wear when going out to meet him. What precisely? We were going for a hike, right? And maybe a pink or blue tracksuit would do, wouldn’t it? I preferred a pink tracksuit (pants and a zip-up top that is) and a white shirt and white sneaker shoes. My hair? How was I going to style it? Simple! I would arrange and confine it up into cutely-looking pig tails. Precisely! What better way than that?


As I was having lunch in the afternoon with Kris outside on the partly uncovered and unclosed verandah where there were flowers of variant species and nature adorning the wooden planes that occupied the place of walls and railings, Kris noticed how brilliant and enthusiastic I was. We were eating rice mixed with chili soup and cold juice taken straight from the fridge and grapes and scones and chicken. She asked, “Are you going out today?”


I looked at her. She had a stringent eye examining me. “Yes, I am. I am only going out for a stroll and a hike. Nothing else.”


“Alice. Aren’t you going out to any places with her or doing just about any sound activity in her company and presence?”


“Her mom is out of town, leaving her employed and working at home. She is baby-sitting for both her mom and her neighbor. She is quite busy and occupied and she won’t be getting a salary for these struggles and pains.”


“Too bad. I feel sorry for her.”


“Me too.”


Kris didn’t ask anything more than that. I was glad she didn’t. Her interrogation had me worry nevertheless. Could she have known or suspected that I was going out with a particular boy? Could she?


At times I wondered if it is the right thing to secretly fall in love. By secret I don’t mean not telling the world that you are unreseverdly and whole-heartedly in love. I mean to say that



keeping the truth under your hat from your parent’s awareness or discovery. Was it appropriate and sound? In my case, all thanks to this curse that plagued and tormented me, my very own mom could not approve or sanction a boy to draw close to me, let alone touch or kiss me. Yeah, she would without a second thought kill any boy who would dare to accomplish that.


I prayed and burned with nagging itch and desire deep inside to see the hours fleet and slip by as fastly and expressly as they could. It was my prolonged and constantly-repeated prayer. Like they say: Pray, eat, live, and watch! That is what I truly did. I prayed, then ate something light, then carried on living, then ultimately and lastly watched. And guess what? My prayer was appropriately and deservedly answered. Yupee!


I dressed up and prepared myself as hastily and hurriedly as I could. Four o’clock was drawing nigh. I gave myself an hour to ready myself up. The razor blade scraped slowly and steadily over my hands, removing off any hair that had grown on them; the nail cutter clinched and clenched and clipped and snipped and snapped my somewhat lengthened nails; cream was applied on my facial and hands-and-legs-located skin to soften and tenderize it; the hardened and steeled-feeling brush scraped on my feet to scrub and cleanse them; powder dropped and overspread and tarnished my face; lip gloss, chocolate dark in color, penciled and bedecked my lips; a white brasserie or simply bra was fitted and fixed over my enormous breasts; untarnished white boxer-like shorts were lastly grabbed and put on.


I rushed speedily for the mirror…and…Bingo!


Wow! Was this Sophia Solochi or some beautiful alien that had taken possession of my evermore ugly body? Was this me? Was this myself?


I wasn’t partly naked in thigh-high shorts and a brasserie. No way! I was ravishing and eye-enchanting in pink. Yes. Almost like Eve brought to life from the dead and arrayed up in twenty-first century apparel and dressing. Yes, that was what I almost looked like. Sh*T!


There was only one thing remaining. My hair. I raked it with a comb and styled and confined it into en-ravishing pigtails in just five precise minutes. Who-hoo! Pretty damn slow and fast at the same time, wasn’t I?


At long last, I was all set and ready to go. Buzz-za-zah! Time had clocked in on me in the very end. It sure had.


Outside, the sun was ablaze and scorching. I did not mind its intense heat and hotness in any case. As a matter of fact, I carried no umbrella with me. Whuh! The air was sweltering and heated as a red-glimmering oven itself. Warlike and inimical even!


I was ogled and gawped at like mad. A prodigy and token that all the hours and pains and labors put in into my beauty-related purpose had not been in vain or vanity. Oh no, they hadn’t. They were one of the best beauty hours and struggles ever. Ever I mean.


I wondered what Alex’s reaction was going to be like once he would lay eyes on me. What?! Was he going to fall dead or faint to the ground so as to awake and deny that he was seeing me—the real Sophia Solochi. Or was he going to stare elsewhere and frown and scowl like he had seen something unseemly and unprepossessing. Which was which?



Alex. While I walked my way on the road, having dropped out of a cab that had driven me to Mutondo Street, I pondered and mused about him, smiling and chuckling to myself whenever I remembered some laughable and witty thing he said or acted out in my presence. He never failed to make me bust a gut. I always relished in his humorous and queer side. Alex. Did he really know how much I truly loved him? Did he?


As I was glancing about, I caught sight of the one and only MacDonald shop operating in Brownton that Alex had described and pointed out in his email. It was one storey and gigantic with unblemished glass walls and windows through which I could see dozens of people sitted inside on high-reaching stools and chewing and consuming foods of all description and types. Among their menu were hamburgers, ice-cream, yoghurt, coke, cream doughnuts, cakes, and the like. The place was crowded and occupied restlessly.


I stepped up toward the closed doors and just as I extended my hand to reach for the handle, someone, in a circumspect and wary manner, placed his hands over my eyes so that I was not able to see. How did I know or suspect that he was a man? Simple. I was looking forward to meeting a man here and who else besides from him would crop up from nowhere and set his hands over my eyes. Who else but Alex? It had him.


“Alex,” I muttered, my lips curling into a pleased and delighted smile. “Alex, is that you?”


He did not reply. Instead, he let his hands go off my eyes and I instantaneously spun around to look and glance straight at him. Damn! It was him without doubt. Yes! I had guessed and surmised things correctly. It was assuredly and verily him. Alex Ramirez. The one and only man I loved in the entire world.


He had his lips twirled and shaped into a very entrancing and captivating smile. Like his sincere-hearted smile, his clothes were thoroughly graceful and unblemished. Dark blue cotton pants, an immaculate white shirt written ‘S.O.S’ and light and shapely sneaker shoes, of Nike label and brand. Wow. There was my angel man.


“Good afternoon,” he greeted, still smiling and buoyant-looking.


“Good afternoon,” I greeted back, smiling once more at him a little bit too late.


“I thought you were going to have some bit of trouble falling upon this place.”


“That was what I was looking forward to too, but fortunately, things did not come to happen that way.”


He placed a loving hand over my shoulder and stroked my cheek freely and alight with his right hand, going on to push away lengthy threads of light brown hair that had fallen against my cheek. As he did that, l felt an unsteady and lightsome trickle dancing inside my tummy. It was lost to feeling in a little while. What could be the supposed meaning of that?


“How much have you missed me?” Alex asked steadily and composedly.


“Very much, I should say,” was my weakly-voiced and delayed response.



“Would it provoke you if I kissed you right here, right this moment?”


I breathed out, weighing and thinking over everything that he had said. I looked about. There were people pressed and swarmed everywhere and moving about. He pulled my face straight to focus and concentrate on his, and that instantaneous moment we stared, I saw an unsleeping gleam and sparkle shining in his smoky black eyes. It was a brilliant twinkling and glistening that to this present date has lived and pulled through the ordeal and trial of time through lingering and tarrying by in my unprotected memory itself. Most nights I lie down in my bed, waiting for sleep to dawn and carry me away from this world and its pains and agony and racking and tormenting reality itself, I find myself looking back to that foregone moment and enjoying and preferring the sensation and excitement that comes with contemplating about it. It was one of the best moments ever in my life.


“There are people watching and attentive to us, Alex—”


“Shhh! Don’t say that, baby. I don’t give a damn about them. It is you I want. And you alone. You get it?”


“Yes, I do.”


“Good. Now will you let me…do it?”


I delayed to respond to that one; I eventually did in any case. “Yes. You can go ahead and…do it.”


He stirred towards me slowly at first. Then, as he drew nearer to me, his eyes mindful and perceptive of mine, he quickly and abruptly pushed forward to me so as to crash and bash his lips violently and rapaciously on mine. I winced back, striving to breathe and keep control of myself. Alex overlooked and disregarded it. He pulled me over to himself and kissed and smooched me as he felt like and as it pleased him. I gave up fighting on him, weakly and defeated.


That was the most passionate and sweetest kiss I had ever had up till that point in time. It shattered my senses and being far away from this world, far away from everything apart from one thing. I had my eyes closed and secured shut and as such I could not catch sight of anything. I only felt and experienced Alex’s motion and tender touch itself. The way he moved had a forceful and electric-like impact on me. He was like electricity to me, overpowering and cogent.


Alex. I loved him. So much indeed.


He let go off me at long last. I breathed out instantly and greedily. My god! That was… bewitching and spell-binding. “Was that your way of saying ‘you are welcome’ to me?” I asked him once we had taken our stand and ordered for cupfuls of yoghurt and ice-cream inside the swarmed MacDonald shop.


He looked at me pliably and lithely. “You are right in some sense. It was. Did you like it?”


I smiled yieldingly. “Yes, I did.”



Taking his time steadily and gently, he reached for my hand and grasped it and smiled complaisantly and courteously at me. I smiled back—kindly and formally polite and he had the following words to declare to me, “You are so beautiful, Sophia. As much as I am enamored by your tender-hearted and well-born self, I am captivated and won over by your meek and knightly-like loveliness. I assuredly and truthfully am.”










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