INSIDE STORY

The alarm goes wild and Janelle’s phone falls from the bed as she stretches and wearily opens her eyes one after the other.  She suddenly realizes how cold her pink-themed room is and sighs as she spots her duvet nestled to one corner of the bed, far from her reach.

“Thank God I live alone,” she says as she sits up nude and lazily walks to her live-sized mirror to admire her very unique physique; her legs are as straight as the Pillars of Hercules, joined to her pelvis on which her very African hips sit. The brown of her skin glows and only darkens where her areolas sit on her perfectly formed upright bosoms. This appears to be a regular routine every morning and the smile presently adorning her spotless face is proof positive that she enjoys looking at her reflection in the mirror.

Her reverie is cut short because the reality of being queried should she get to work late, dawns on her, so she saunters into the bathroom. Opening the cabinet to her right, she finds her shower cap which she tucks her full hair into, checks to see if the water heater is on, climbs into the tub and turns the faucet, letting hot water run from the sprinkler. Standing still whilst the water runs its course through her entire body, she closes the shower curtain, wears a coy smile, bites her lower lip sensually and traces her hands down the entire length of her body letting her fingers lead, arousing all her senses till they hit the spot…

What are you doing?  You definitely are late for work, still, you cannot help but pleasure yourself, it’s funny how you aren’t even paying attention to the fact that as you eventually climax, there is a possibility of you slipping and meeting your maker… but what do I know?

Janelle!!! Janelle!!! Janelle!!!

Guess I’m late again.

Janelle is now listlessly seated on the floor of the tub, her face betrays the eureka moment she had just experienced, and now realizing how potentially late she could be to her work place today, she stands up, turns the faucet in the opposite direction, letting cold water run this time, hopefully, it will jolt her out of this moment she seems to be enveloped in and remind her of the real world. After having her bath, she pulls a white cotton towel from the towel bar to dry her body before brushing and heading back into the room. 

Janelle’s apartment is a very well spaced one-bedroom flat, which she effortlessly keeps too tidy for a non-OCD patient. Her room smells of lavender and some kind of peppermint, there is a fluffy light pink rug in the center of the room with designs to match her window blinds. She has a mini-library at the far end of her room directly opposite her bed with books covering topics that many seldom read, neatly arranged in alphabetical order. Next to the book shelve is a wooden reading table and a chair; obviously pink in color, on which there is a book open at page 205 with the title: CHAPTER 11 – THE MYSTERY OF SEX TRANSMUTATION, written boldly on it. Very close to one of her windows is a very small makeup table with a mirror on which she currently sits and applies light make up to her face. 

Fully dressed and ready for work, she makes her bed, completely dressing it till it's wrinkle-free, kneels down and spends a little over five-minutes praying; mostly in tongues, then stands and exits the house.

Monday mornings always made Amaka feel good, because her direct boss at the office had all the answers to the many troubling life issues she was going through.  She didn’t find it comfortable talking to the HR at her office if there were any work-related issues and definitely wasn’t comfortable talking to anyone else but Miss J. She always makes the effort to be in the office before her boss and is somewhat concerned that Miss J is strangely not at work at her regular time.

Janelle walks into the office building, trying as much as possible to avoid eye contact with any of her colleagues; she instinctively checks her watch only to discover that she wasn’t entirely late at all, she smiles and resets to a queenly I’ve-got-it-all-together gait. The hallway of the office building is very quiet this morning as always. The mad rush begins sometime at noon when all the customers and important clients throng the hallway needing explanations to certain packages her firm offers.  Soon as she opens the door to her office, Amaka is startled, “Oh, Miss J,” she says as Janelle walks in and sits on the sofa directly opposite the office table.

“What are you looking for” Janelle asks as Amaka resumes her search in the file cabinet. “The Chukwu brother’s company portfolio…here it is” she says with a smile, lifting the document up in the sky and closing the file cabinet, it’s very obvious that something isn’t right with Amaka that morning and beneath her smile is a story she wants to tell Janelle but maybe now isn’t the time for that. Putting the file under her armpit, she arranges Janelle’s table and shoots her another fake smile before leaving the office.

Janelle’s office is nothing like her room, except for the very tidy nature the both of them share in common. There is a giant-sized mahogany table to the very end of the wall, leaving enough space for a smaller table with two sofas flanking the sides, where one can have a mini-conference discussion. She eventually stands and goes into work mode, filing documents and typing away on her office computer for the next 5 hours. 

The door opens and a young brutish girl walks in without knocking, the girl drops lunch on the table at the center of the room and walks away without even as much as a “Hi” or a “Good afternoon”, leaving the door slightly ajar. Janelle just sits still and says nothing as the little brat wanders in and out, at the very least she is grateful that the company takes care of their lunch; they promised lunch not a very good mannered lunch girl. The noise from the hallway isn’t pleasant to her ears, the sound of clients who stroll in and out of the office with questions that they already have answers to; most times a simple phone call could resolve their issues but her boss has made it a point to employ only "models" to work at their firm and this ensures the men come around with issues that seemingly has no end. After much hesitation, she gets up and closes the door, checks her watch and figures now would be a good time to sit and eat.

Soon as she sits down on the closest sofa, a thought crosses her mind, she ignores it and makes to reach for her food on the table, but her nerves are already excited from the sensual feeling that now rang through her overtly sensitive body seeking vent.

Not here... not now, this is your office. Control it!!! Why do you spend all your time reading about sex transmutation when you cannot even try to at least fight this, even if it's just for a teeny tiny bit? Are you even listening to me?

Janelle relaxes on the sofa, pulls her skirt up a few inches, spread her legs a tad apart, then reaches for her insides, but her face changes because she feels her tights and it currently is some sort of blockage to the Holy Grail…

That’s a sign...really, you have to stop this. Just tell yourself to stop?

Janelle!!! Janelle!!!

Okay, think of good times...

She smiles...

Scratch that...think of happy times...

The smile intensifies... her right-hand slides gently through the top of her skirt, past the tights and further down till she finds her already excited moist flesh.  She starts working her fingers furiously while her left-hand clutches the throw pillow on the sofa. There is not a care in the world right now if her moans are loud or not, she just has to get this over with as that is all that matters to her at the moment.

The door isn’t locked, what if you are caught? How would you explain to whoever  finds you in this deplorable state, that their star staff indulges in such an act even at her place of work? What values are you really teaching both yourself and whoever opens that door in the next few minutes?

Janelle!!! Janelle!!!

“Almost there...”

“Almost THERE!!!” she keeps repeating as her fingers explore all of Rome.

Amaka is seated at the cafeteria stabbing her noodles with a fork, she can't seem to bring herself to eat, not when her mind is burgeoned with matters that could take her life if she doesn't do anything about it. The night before, she made up her mind that she needs to talk to her boss about this depression that wants to swallow her entire person. At the rate she is going it’s so bad that it makes her contemplate suicide most nights.

She stands and heads up the stairs to Janelle’s office. Now very close to the door, she reaches for the doorknob...

Almost where? Almost where? You are truly hilarious right now.

Stop this madness already!!!

Amaka tries to open the door and hesitates for a few seconds, she briskly raps the door thrice then pushes open.

“Miss J, I’m sorry for barging into your office this way.”

“It’s totally okay dear,” she adjusts on her chair hoping that Amaka doesn’t notice anything suspicious or out of the ordinary.

“What’s that smell?” Amaka asks as she goes around the office in a bit to find out where it is emanating from. Janelle looks to her far-right and notices the window that was open; saved by the bell.

“Smell?” Janelle asks. “Oh, I’m guessing that the open window is responsible for it”

Amaka walks over to the window and tries to smell the funny odor, but nothing hits her nose. She sighs and reaches for the air freshener; beside the window, which she uses to spray the room.

“Excuse me,” Janelle says as she walks into the office bathroom to wash her hands, she often wonders why she bothers to wash her hands, knowing fully well that this smell takes its time to wear off and does so at will.

She returns to see Amaka sobbing quietly on the sofa and tries to reach out and hold her but stops herself because she reckons she would look stupid trying to explain what that smell was doing on her hands, so she reasons it best to sit opposite Amaka and have her pour out her mind.

Amaka goes on and on about how she loses confidence in herself when in the midst of others which is a major reason why she finds herself in relationships that she thinks will help boost her pride.  Most nights when she is all alone she tries to end it all, she believes the world wouldn't miss her and her man, who only enjoys sex with her will find a rebound girl. 

“But when I think of how strong you are and your encouraging words to me, I find the courage to sleep and look forward to another day ma.” she says as she wails a bit louder now. Amaka has indulged herself with various habits all in the bit to find the strength to be okay and comfortable in her skin and keep living.

Janelle feels so much like a hypocrite right now, she wishes she can tell Amaka that she isn’t alone in this, she wishes she can openly tell Amaka the battles she fights when she is alone, hers isn’t a problem of self-confidence, rather, she literally worships herself like a goddess and takes pleasure in satisfying her sexual needs knowing fully well that this further keeps her lonely because she fears if someone was to come close enough and see her for who she really is, she might be a step closer to this depression that Amaka sings of. Same reason why she reads all the books written by different authors, on how to channel sexual energy and make it more like a muse to do more positive work than masturbation.

“Amaka, trust me, that peace you seem to be missing can only be found in God.”

You didn’t just bring God into this matter now... how can you tell her about finding peace with God, when you cannot trust him enough to rid you of this recurrent self-love you have? Next thing you will ask her if she has the Holy Spirit too…

“He gives us His Spirit to live in us and help guide our thoughts and actions...

Seriously? Wow... wow... 

 ... so the next time you feel that way, just trust Him and listen to His voice, He is always speaking, the question is, do you actually listen or are you totally immersed in all that is before you?”

These words seemed to resonate with Amaka, she had really never heard such words before, especially coming from a fellow lady who seemed like she got it all figured out and had no place and need for a higher power in her life. The tears on her face were all dried up now and replaced with a smile, she reaches out and hugs Janelle tightly and whispers a “thank you” in her ears, before standing and leaving more relaxed than she came in.

Janelle feels even worse right now, she is concerned that she can help solve other peoples issues with the word of God she believes but doesn’t let have room in her.

Aren’t you just a coward? So now she believes you are perfect when your closet is full of skeletons. Are you even sure God loves you? When you kneel down to pray with your hands together in front of your face, what do you smell? That stench doesn’t say CHRISTIAN it says PERVERT!!!

Well, preach all you want, If you aren’t going to work on yourself, you will keep leading them into heaven while your bed in hell awaits you.

Miss J my foot.

Janelle eats quietly and resumes work for the next 2 hours before she leaves for church, to attend her midweek service.

Wednesdays are very special days during the week for most of the church members, many of whom have stayed in church since the very first day they walked in because of the beautiful Janelle, that smiled and welcomed them warmly at the entrance of the church. She was one of the greeters who welcomed people as they walked into church on Wednesdays and an usher inside the main church hall on Sundays. Her work in the church was unparalleled and she was always dutifully punctual, wearing her charming smile as though she was born that way.

Service ended that very day and Janelle was shocked to see Amaka stand as one of the first-timers. Seeing Amaka made Janelle smile and she made a resolution in her heart to fight to stop her cravings for the sake of leading by example. She knows it wouldn’t matter to anyone nor would anyone notice, but it mattered to her and she was bent on letting the word have a place in her, this time for real.

9:30pm, Janelle walks into her bedroom, exhausted from a long day and in need of a bath to soothe her body temperature and ready her for Netflix; seeing movies is one sure way of ensuring she falls asleep fast.

Carefully, she takes off her shoes and keeps them in one corner of the room, drops her bag on the bed and takes off her suit jacket. The air-conditioner in the room blows sweet air to her skin and a familiar shiver up her spine in micro-seconds.

Welcome home.

Taking off her blouse, she folds it and drops it in the laundry basket. She sits on the bed and with her left hand unhooks her bra letting her breasts breathe for the first time since she left the house this morning. It sure is a good feeling because she smiles and turns to look at her reflection in her live-sized mirror. Sliding her skirt down her legs the memories of the office moment runs through her mind and she craves to indulge one more time for the night just as her phone rings.

“Thank you so much for today at the office, I actually went to church for the first time today, it’s a church that has always been on my street but I never entered it...”

Janelle is filled with so much emotion…

“And guess what?” Amaka continues

“what?”

“I now have the Holy Spirit” and for some reason, I cannot find those funny feelings anymore.”

“Now that’s more like it” Janelle says with a feigned smile. The call drops.

That’s more like it? You are just a dross. You feel like a hero right now but deep down we both know she is far better off than you are right now in life. 

So...where were we?

She lets her skirt fall to the ground, the wind caresses her thighs, and she immediately kneels down with tears and sudden realization in her eyes.

This is new. Now what?

She begins to pray, more and more in tongues till the voice inside her head is permanently silenced. Tears begin to roll down her cheeks and she smiles because now she knows the peace she preached, has finally found room in her.

She listens closely for the voice of in her head, but all she hears is the gentle whistle of her air-conditioning unit.

Then the voice resumes, this time it sounds more reassuring and non-condemning than before.

Hey girl, you got this. More of me, less of you and we will be alright... Okay?

Now get your pretty self into the shower and have a well deserved bath.

With a smile, she gets up, takes off her panties, walks to her mirror and once again takes some time to admire how pretty she is before heading into the bathroom.

If ever she felt the need to indulge in her habits from that night onwards she instinctively talked herself out of it with the help of the Holy Spirit, and with time there was no effort put in it.

The cool, calm, and collected lady she put out for the world to see was no longer a façade. All the books she read, now made sense because beyond her will to want to stop it, it had to be replaced with another more pleasant habit, and this cannot easily be achieved with only positive confessions especially when you’ve indulged for over 10 years consistently promising to change and never actually stopping.

It was a lot easier for her to transmute her sexual urges and channel them to more creative works. Most times she wonders how little her immediate world knew about her. This was her battle and hers alone. 



#yourfavoritewriter
Klynic
+2348137111247

klyn.akwarandu@gmail.com