It was the darkest hour of the night, Marriane made her last round of her house ensuring all rooms were locked and retired to her bedroom. It had been seven o’clock at the crack of dawn when Philian, her best friend, had offered her a shoulder to cry on. Marraine was an orphan and the closest person she had to family was her brother, Nathan Osindi. Their relatives and taken them in when their parents died and in the process exploited their parents wealth. Little life, most love. Thats what they called it.
Three years down the line and Marriane just wanted to die. Her brother passed away and she had noone else to “most love” with. Philian cried with her too. It was a sad life story for a lonely girl. But Philian was there! She tried to let him go to no avail so she wished it… Tick tock.
Abraham Fundi hated his carrer. Too much work, inadequate sleep and a pathetic pay check. He just wanted what everybody else wanted, a fair payslip for the work done. But we do not always get what we want. Thirty minutes of sleep was all he got that night. Incessant ringing from his mobile phone was annoying, could this not stop! He draggged himself off the bed and went to attend his duties. His life plan was not working very well.
The girls body was untouched, unscathed and the smile plasterred on her face meant she may have had a peaceful death. The corpse was laid on the bed tucked in the blankets and the dreamy eyes meant she had been woken from sleep. He sighed, what a death. ‘Did she wish it? Whatever happened to her was something she was cognizant of,’ he thought.
Back in Westlands a man relaxed in his resting room, staring at the fireplace and smiled. He put down his wine glass and headed off to sleep, it had been a good day. So he sang
“tick tock it is the darkest hour of the night,
The angel may be passing by,
For where he goes death suffice,
Tick tock goes the clock…”