Forums Coolval (series) THE GHOST MAN

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    Tiana Cole WilliamsTiana Cole Williams
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    THE GHOST MAN

    By Tiana Cole Williams.

    (A true life story)

    A LIVING DEAD

    CHAPTER 1

    I’m laid down dead on my bed, in
    my bedroom, watching and
    listening to Chioma my wife
    speak with her mother on the
    phone. She was happy I was
    dead. She killed me with a
    poison.

    “Yes Mama,” she said over the
    phone, “the idiot is dead.”
    “So quick?” Her mother said.
    “Yes oo, so quick.”
    “I told you, Akanshi is a strong
    babalawo.”

    “That’s true mama. What do I do
    now?”
    “You know where he keeps all
    the documents?”
    “Yes I do.”
    “Perfect. Make sure you gather all
    of them together. The houses,
    the cars, the banks and every
    other document available.”
    “Ok Mama.”

    “After that start crying and call
    neighbors. I’m right on my way.”
    Chioma had the habit of setting
    her phone on speaker, the
    reason why I could hear her
    mother.

    My wife of three years conspired
    with her mother to kill me.
    Chioma that I loved so much, saw
    her through the university and
    sent her to Paris for her masters.
    The urge to jump from the bed
    and pounce on her was much
    but I held myself back. I needed
    to keep my cool to unveil more
    secrets.

    I watched as she searched
    frantically for all the documents
    to my properties. She piled them
    up beside the wall mirror,
    looking herself in the mirror and
    smiling.

    FLASH BACK

    I smiled within me, knowing
    how I just escaped death by the
    whiskers. I was such a lucky
    man. I remembered how it all
    happened the day before. I came
    back earlier than I usually do
    without calling to inform my
    wife. Chioma wasn’t in the sitting
    room, I decided to tip toe to the
    bedroom to surprise her.

    On getting to the door I could
    hear her voice, she was on the
    phone with her mother.
    “Mama, are you sure it will kill
    him?”

    “Yes, I trust Akanshi.”
    “I can’t wait for this man to die, I
    need my freedom to live as I
    want.”
    “He will die tomorrow, just follow
    the instruction. Add the
    substance in his juice and make
    sure he drinks it.”

    “I will Mama, trust me.”
    I was glued to the spot. My own
    wife was planning to kill me and
    tomorrow I would die by
    poisoning. I tip toed back to the
    sitting room and as quietly as I
    entered I left. I left knowing what
    to do, for to die I would.

    The next day, being today, the
    day of my death, I left very early
    to my office like everything was
    okay. I came back in the
    afternoon prepared to drink
    some juice and die. Chioma my
    wife was exceptionally happy to
    see me, I was pretentiously
    overjoyed to see her. We kissed,
    yes, and we made love on the
    couch.

    According to her plan, she went
    and brought a glass of juice for
    me. And according to my plan I
    sent her to bring my briefcase to
    show her a very important
    document. She left. Before she
    came back I had exchanged the
    glass of juice with a different
    one. She saw me gulp down the
    last juice as she came back. She
    cracked a smile.

    According to plan, I began to feel
    some pain in my stomach. As the
    pain grew severe I began to
    crawl on the floor. Chioma, as a
    loving and caring wife came to
    help, I told her to take me to the
    room. She did and laid me gently
    on the bed.

    “Honey, you will be fine,” she
    assured, “I’m here for you.”
    Such a loving wife.
    I began to shiver and I began to
    foam from the mouth, then I
    died.

    BACK TO PRESENT

    Chioma left the mirror and
    walked towards the bed. She
    stood over my dead body, with
    triumph on her face.

    “Idiot,” she cursed, “anu ofia. I
    thought you’re a superman.” She
    spit on me.
    I remained motionless but
    watching her every move. She
    took her mobile phone and
    dialed a number.

    “Hello Chike,” she said.
    Chike? Which Chike? Chike my
    best man and best friend?
    “Hello sweetheart,” that was
    Chike’s voice. My best friend.
    “My love, I have a good news.”
    “Really? I can’t want to hear.”
    “The idiot is dead.”
    “Who?”
    “Kacy naa, don’t you remember
    our discussion again?”

    “Oh yes, I do I do. Great. Start
    crying, I’m on my way.”
    My best man and best friend too
    was in the conspiracy to kill me.
    What a wicked world.

    Chioma stored the documents in
    one of her bags, went to the
    mirror to look at her beautiful
    face one more time. Beautiful
    demon. She rearranged her hair
    and made for the door. Opening
    the door she turned back to look
    at me.

    “Rest in peace,” she said and left.
    I quietly got up from the bed,
    went to her bag and collected
    the file containing all my
    documents. On top of the
    wardrobe, the portable Nikon
    video recorder I had planted
    there earlier was still rolling, I
    collected it and turned it off.

    Quietly like the ghost I was, I
    opened the window, scaled
    through and vanished from the
    compound. Chioma’s voice could
    be heard crying loudly. I’m now
    going to be a ghost, to torment
    those that killed me. The battle
    line is drawn.

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    #1368956 Reply
    Tiana Cole WilliamsTiana Cole Williams
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    THE GHOST MAN

    By Tiana Cole Williams

    (A true life story)

    A LIVING DEAD

    CHAPTER 2

    “Those that murdered sleep
    should be ready for sleepless
    nights.”
    The door to Gbenga’s house was
    open as I had anticipated. He
    was abrace of what was going
    to happen. The day I knew I was
    going to be murdered, I had
    gone to inform him, being a
    friend, a next gate neighbor and
    a man I had come to respect. He
    was there with his wife
    Abimbola as I entered.

    “They have murdered me,” I
    announced.
    “So you’re now dead?” Gbenga
    asked with a suppressed smile.
    “Yes, dead but not burried.”
    He took a glass of water that was
    on the table and began to
    sprinkle some water on me.
    “Hey! What are you doing?” I
    exclaimed.

    “To see if you will disappear. I
    heard that ghosts disappears if
    you sprinkle water on them.”
    Gbenga has a great sense of
    humour. Our friendship wasn’t
    instantaneous, it began after the
    day we had a heated arguement
    during a meeting of Landlords in
    the close we lived at Ajao Estate.
    It was over who was better
    suited to be security operatives
    of our close; vigilante group or
    two Abokis.

    Few weeks later we
    became close friends. I called him
    Onye Ofe Mmanu and he called
    me Omo Ajalaokuta.
    “I’m now a ghost,” I said and
    made a move like the zombies in
    Michaek Jackson’s Thriller music
    video.
    He laughed hard with his
    wife.”We’re laughing but this is
    not a laughing matter. How could
    that woman be so wicked?”
    Abimbola said.
    “Is it because I’m a strong man?
    You for don kill me tete,” Gbenga
    teased her, “see as landladies full
    all over Lagos.”
    “Oriodaa,” Abimbola gave him a
    little push.
    Abimbola was a very robust
    woman, so overweight she could
    hadly get up from a seat. She
    spoke english with a deep
    Yoruba ascent, but a very nice
    woman.
    Now that I’m a ghost I have to
    start acting like one. How do
    ghosts act?

    There are two types
    of ghosts, gentle ghosts and
    angry ghosts. I’m an angry ghost
    with one sole mission….to
    torment.
    Abimbola rubbed a white
    powder all over my head and
    face. I put on a white jalabia and
    a white hand gloves, and stood
    against a white wall. To act like a
    ghost, you have to look like a
    ghost.

    “You look like a ghost from Imo
    state;” Gbenga said, laughing.
    “I know, I am.”
    “Are you ready?”
    “I’m ready, let’s do this.”
    Gbenga called Chioma’s number
    on whatsapp video call and
    stood before me. She picked and
    starred on the image on her
    screen. Confussion was all over
    her face. My hands were in the
    air moving like a zombie. Well, I
    think zombies and ghosts are
    closely related.

    “Chioma, Chioma-a,” I began to
    speak, “why did you kill me?”
    Her mouth dropped, her face
    panick striken and even more
    confused. I was enjoying the
    moment. It could be fun being a
    ghost.
    “I loved you Chioma-a, but you
    killed me,” I continued, “Why?
    Why? Chioma why?”

    FLASH BACK

    The first day I met Chioma was a
    coincidence I will never forget. It
    was a hurt hot afternoon in the
    busy streets of Lagos, I had gone
    to FHA office in Festac Town to
    make enquiries about a land I
    wanted to buy at Festac
    Extension. On my way going back
    to Ajao Estate, I noticed a girl at
    the back of a danfo commercial
    vehicle. She was putting on a sun
    shade, she was beautiful and she
    was crying.

    The tears of a woman can melt
    an ice, but the tears of a beautiful
    woman can melt an iron. I drove
    after the bus.
    Don’t get me wrong. I was used
    to beautiful girls, I had some at
    my beck and call. Like Iniedo,
    Genevieve, Chika, Aisha, Jumai….to
    mention but a few. But there was
    something different about this
    girl. The girl stopped at Ijesha, I
    parked my car and followed her.
    “Hey young lady,” I called after
    her.
    She looked at me but continued
    walking.
    “It’s you I’m calling,” we were
    now shoulder to shoulder.
    She looked at me.

    “How may I help you?” She asked.
    “I saw you crying in the bus,” I
    went straight to the point, ” and I
    want to know why.”
    “I was’nt crying.”
    “I know the difference between
    tears and rain. And today is a
    sunny day..”

    “Even if I was, it’s not your
    business.”
    “Well, I want to make it mine
    now.”
    She began to walk away, I
    followed.
    “Stop following me or I will shout
    that you want to kidnap me.”
    “And you know what will happen
    afterwards? People will mob me,
    hang tyre on my neck and set me
    ablaze. My blood will be in your
    hand.”

    She thought about it and began
    to walk again. I followed.
    “My life is about to be messed
    up,” she began.
    “How?”
    “I’m supposed to be having my
    final exams soon, but I can’t
    without paying my school fees.
    I’m from a poor home.”
    “And?”
    “I told a distant uncle who is rich,
    he promised to help and asked
    me to come. Getting to his house
    at Satelite Town he showed me
    the money but placed a
    condition.”

    “Which is?”
    She looked at me without her
    sun shade, tears were rolling
    down her cheeks. She looked
    more beautiful than in the bus.
    “That I sleep with him,” she
    admitted, “I refused and he tried
    to rape me. I was able to escape.”
    Wicked. Why is the world full of
    wichedness and wicked people?
    Taking advantage of an innocent
    girl in her moment of
    vulnerability should be a crime
    against humanity. Punishable bu
    God and man.

    “How much is the school fees?”
    “Eighty thousand naira.”
    “Follow me.” I beckoned.
    “What?”
    “Follow me.”
    “To where? Why?”
    “Listen, I’m not like your uncle.
    Just trust me.”
    “All men are the same.”
    “Some men are different.”
    She hesitated for a moment
    before following me. At a
    building across the street was a
    Diamand bank, my bank. I went
    to the ATM machine, inserted my
    card and made a withdrawal. I
    then went back to her.

    “Open your hand bag,” I said.
    “What?”
    “Open your hand bag.”
    She opened it and I put some
    cash inside.
    “In there is a hundred K.”
    “What?”
    “Eighty K is for your school fees.”
    “What?”
    “Use the remaining to help
    yourself.”
    “What?”
    “Ok, maybe I have to repeat what
    I said,” I was almost laughing,
    “you now have a hundred K that
    can solve your school palava. Go
    and make your parents proud.”
    “What? Oh my God!”
    “I have to be going,” I began to
    walk back to my car.
    I didn’t ask her to follow me but
    she did. I entered my car and she
    stood beside the door.

    “You didn’t even ask for my
    name.” she said, “and you didn’t
    tell me who you are.”
    “Ok, my name is Kelechi Onuoha,
    but friends call me Kacy.”
    “Ok, my names are Chioma Felicia
    Okoro. A final year student of
    Mass comm at LASU. I live at No
    13 Friday street here in Ijesha
    with my parents, but I come from
    Onitsha..”

    “It’s a pleasure to know you,
    Chioma,” I gave her my
    complimentary card, “call me
    whenever you want.”
    “Thank you Kacy. God bless you,”
    she looked inside her hand bag,
    “Oh my God, Oh my God!”
    I started the car and drove off. I
    watched her through the mirror,
    she stood there waving. And I
    could still hear her voice in my
    head…”Oh my God, Oh my God!”
    A year and few months later we
    were married.

    BACK TO PRESENT

    “Chioma why did you kill me?”
    Her confusiion turned to terror.
    “No! You’re a ghost,” she cried
    out, “You’re a ghost.”
    Yes, I’m a ghost. A living ghost.
    Her terror turned to panick
    and….CRASH! She smashed her.

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    #1368963 Reply
    AvatarEmmy01
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    @tiana Was just waiting for you to finish typing the story so I can read and be the first to comment, A lovely and true life story there


    LINK TO AVAILABLE EPISODES

    Episode 3

    Episode 4-8 Final

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    #1368964 Reply
    AvatarEmmy01
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    What an evil world we live in, God would help us oh.

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    #1369064 Reply
    MathsMaths
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    I av read this story b4

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    #1369077 Reply
    H.B.T.M.M.H.B.T.M.M.
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    #1369111 Reply
    Daniel EdemDaniel Edem
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    i don show like flash

    @harzaroboy
    :b

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    #1369116 Reply
    HenrymaryHenrymary
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    Me sef av show

    lets see hw things unfold

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