Black Mamba. The very name sends a shiver down one's spine … well not to me, I like them quite a lot. It is not only a snake; it is the symbol of the African ecosystem, the African danger, an animate object that looks like a hypodermic needle that injects neurotoxicity that messes up your nervous system before you know it. Although they have quite a bad reputation, these snakes are not aggressive and will quickly move off if given the opportunity to do so. They have an impressive, high-gloss, ebony-like exterior; this is not an entity anyone would want to meddle with. It is a predator through and through, a society made, killing machine with lights and frozen to the bone. A lot of you guys don't even know why the heck it is called black mamba, even when its color is kinda like dark gray. You won't, unless you encounter one and get bitten ( Skull Emoji). Just kidding, inside their face, it's pitch black, and from there it got its name. Don't ever think of sprinting with them, you are sure to lose, the race, maybe your life, or who knows, maybe both. They are the fastest moving land snakes on earth, reaching a maximum speed up to 20-25 km/h. Thus the Black Mamba, a snake that hunts in the scorching sun while the night stages are associated with horror for most people. This is a sneak and swift; it camouflages itself with the darkness to attack with great vigor. It's not a beast of bluff; it's a hiss of the end; a voice of death for those who dare cross its path. I'd ask you to fear the snakes but also to understand them. It's not that the Black Mamba is evil; it's just that it is as much a victim of circumstances as is the frog and it is, in every sense of the word, a perfectly evolved killing machine in a world where killing is an intrinsic necessity. … (Just for, you know, if you ever need) If you get bitten, use Polyvalent antivenom.)

PART 2 "Are you serious sir?" Maybell asked in fright? Mary would start to smell by then. "Do as I say Maybell. The Rapha orders and you've got to obey." Maybell gulped down and looked around for a nearby sit to help her tired leges. After sometime, the pastor left to his office or so. Thoughts began flooding into her head. "What's gonna happen to my kids by tomorrow? Mark would be dead by then." "What am I gonna eat?" She rememebered she kept some stew in the fridge at home. Her bag was at.....wait. Her home. Why was she instructed by who knows, not to go home? Why was the note written in blood? She began to doubt if they'd ever wake up if she keeps them here any longer without medical attention. "I need to go to a hospital." She thought withing herself. That'd be better right? After much thinking, Maybell left with her kids without informing her pastor. She got to the hospital in the evening. The rain was still falling though. The doctors refu.sed to admit the kids on the basis that she's got to deposit some amount of money first before treatment commences. The money on her wouldn't be enough so the only choice was for her to go home. But she was warned. How did the note get to her in the first place? Was it really referred to her or was it a coincidence? Why were the words written in blood? She didn't understand. She decided to disobey her instincts warning her not to go home as curiosity got the better of her. She used the excuse that she was only entertaining fears. But the excuse was for who? She kept her kids in the custody of a Janitor in the hospital and headed home to get some money. Everywhere seemed dark. That's unusual. She couldn't even see the way to her door. What's happening? Suddenly, she started hearing drum beats and strange voices and words. Sounds like incantations or something. She was very much afraid. The noises became louder and more scary! She turned back to leave the place but couldn't see anything. Her pastor had even told her not to go home. She was in a fetish trouble. What the hell is happening? Maybell screamed in fright as the voices came nearer and then.....blackout. THE END.😁😂 What's more important is the lesson and not the length of the story. Just like Lot's wife in the bible, where curiousity got the better of her and she had to turn back to look. Her eyes ended her life. She was wondering "What's happening? What a beautiful city being destroyed. I wish I can see what makes that sound! People are screaming...what's causing it? What's happening?! Let me just take one look. Just one look!" and then......gbam. A heap of salt she is. Maybell was curios too and that caused her the state she was in. And her kids are now in a helpless state. Sad. Curiosity has negative consequences and positive ones too. Just be mindful of what you wanna hear or see. The aftermath of a thing actually matters. Thanks for reading.

PART 1 It was on a sunny Sunday. Maybell and her two toddlers went to church for service. Church was going on well when suddenly dark clouds began to gather up in the sky. Thunder storms was probably coming. Lightenings could already be seen. Everyone wondered why the clouds darkened suddenly because it was sunny just a few minutes ago. The pastor wrapped up service in minutes and then dismissed the congregation so that all would be home before the heavy rain starts. The pastor knew that such storm wasn't ordinary and isn't something that's gonna end in hours. A fierce wind began to blow outside and noises of the wind were heard. People began to panic when suddenly, the wind blew of part of the church's roof. Maybell went to the children's church in haste to pick up her kids. They needed to get home fast. She picked up her little daughter learning how to walk and her son and they started running home. Her son, Mark was holding her back as he couldn't meet up her pace. She managed to get to the road side. She wanted to stop a taxi but no car was forth coming. She was getting frustrated as the wind was getting fiercer by the minute. She turned back to see if any of her church members could carry her home in their car. They had all gone. She wondered when they bypassed her without her knowledge. Since her house is situated at about two streets away from the church, she decided to trek home. She thought that if perhaps the storm met her on the way she would stop by to shelter herself in one of the shops or sheds. The trio began to run home. As expected, the rain started. There was no shed nearby. She was running and then Mark, her son, fell down. She picked him up but he started behaving faint. "Mark! Wake up! Don't be like this please. We have to get home. It's mummy!" Maybell said in frustration trying to reviver her son. He was shivering seriously. Suddenly, her daughter began making a freaking noise and spit came running out of her mouth and then she gave up the ghost. Weird right? "Maryyyyyy!!!" Maybell screamed in agony as tears fell down her face rapidly. One kid dead, the other sick. She knelt down, caressing her kids compassionately. Suddenly, the wind blew and a paper flying, blown by the wind caught her attention. The paper wasn't wet when everything around her was soaked with water. A mystery right? On the paper was scribbled some words "DON'T GO HOME" that sentence was written in blood. She wondered where to go now. The church or the hospital? Her instinct told her to go back to the church. But what about her kids? "WHERE IS YOUR FAITH" She heard a voice ask in a whisper. She carried her two kids and managed to go back to the church. Half of the church's roof had already been blown away. The rain had reduced but wasn't ready to stop yet. Maybell saw an old woman sprawled on the floor, dead. That was probably as a result of the storm. She got into the church building and was heading for the altar. The ground was wet as a result of the blown roof. Water was dripping in. The pastor was kneeling down by the altar praying with his head bowed. "Drop the kids on the altar." He ordered. Maybell obeyed quietly. "What can I do sir? I was ordered to come here. I want my kids back alive and hearty." Maybell said with tears in her voice. Pity could be seen, written boldy on the pastor's face. "Leave them here till tomorrow morning."

Call me stupid. Call me childish and over dramatic. I don't care anymore. I'm tired of this. I really am. I'm tired of the looks. I'm tired of being looked down on. I'm tired of never having the freedom to roam the world freely because I'm scared I'll be killed. Why us? For so long, I lived in a world where I was free to do whatsoever I pleased. I was happy. I was free to do what I wanted to. Then I saw the news. I saw people like myself being mistreated and killed. They didn't do anything wrong. Why are they killing them? Why won't they stop? I can see the blood, I can hear their cries, I can feel their agony, but why is this happening? I moved to America for a better life. They told me this was the place where dreams come true. I wanted to widen my horizon. I wanted to see for myself the things I saw on the news. I never knew I was going to experience this for myself. There's so much crying and pain here. I can here them screaming for help. I want to help them but I'm scared. I want to run away but my legs are frozen. I can't move. I can taste the metallic liquid running down my face. It hurts so badly. The pain is unbearable but I can't feel it. All I feel is fear. I'm scared. I'm scared of who I am. I'm scared of what they'll do to me if they find me. Why can't I move? Please...help me... I can hear the sirens in the distance and I feel relieved. We're safe. We'll be okay. I was stupid to think that. We would never be safe. The gunshots rang in the air again. I could hear people running and screaming in fear. I wanted to run with them but my legs...what's happening to me? I hear an explosion behind me and I'm knocked further down the street. I open my mouth to scream in pain but noting leaves my mouth. It's like I've gone mute. What's happening to me? How did I get here? Help me! I can hear the voices from afar. I hear them calling us freaks, monkeys, monsters...but I don't understand it. What have we done wrong? Was our existence so much of a burden to them? Why won't they leave us alone? Why won't they let me go? Why? I look to my side and see a little girl crying. She's covered in so much blood and I'm shocked she's still alive. I want to comfort her. I want to hold her but my body won't move. She turns her head to look at me and I grimace at the open wounds on her face. She coughs up blood and I feel like crying. ''Why did they do this to us?'' Her voice is so melodic and calming even as her body shuts down slowly. She doesn't sound like she's dying and I wish it was like that. ''I was going to get some ice-cream for Bessy and they shot me. I didn't do anything wrong. Why did they shoot me?'' I want to tell her she'll be okay but I knew it would be a lie. She didn't deserve this. No one did. ''I was going to sail the world with Bessy. We were going to rescue all the black people and start our country for them.'' She winced in pain when she tried to laugh. ''I guess I'll be leaving all that to Bessy now.'' She searched my eyes before forcing a smile. ''You don't look so bad. You'll be fine. As for me, I don't think I can hold on any longer.'' ''No...'' It came out as a hoarse whisper burning my throat like I had just swallowed acid. I coughed out blood and saw her grimace as she watched me with pity. ''Don't force yourself to talk. It'll hurt you.'' She diverted her eyes from me to the sky. ?old with my husband and five children and three dogs. We'd all live in a huge house by the beach.'' I could see the salty tears running down her face and mixing with her blood. ''I shouldn't have had such high hopes for a better future. It was stupid of me. I should've known. It's simply not possible for someone like me. As long as I'm black, my future will never be happy.'' I wanted to beg her to hold on. I couldn't just let her die but I was too weak to do anything. I think I might be paralyzed. Oh God no. ''Thank you for listening to me. I should go now. Tell Bessy I love her and that she should carry on without me. I'll be watching her now. I'm so...tired...'' Her body went completely still beside me. Her eyes were still open staring up at the sky. She was gone now and even though I hardly knew her, I cried. I cried because I was sick of life. I cried because I hated being who I was. I cried because I hadn't been the one to die. I hate being black. I don't want to be like this anymore. I woke up with a start panting heavily with sweat running down my face. I looked at my brown hands which had been clutching the sheets tightly. I used them to touch my face and felt the tears. Even though it was all a dream, it still didn't change my perception of who I was and the ill fate my kind had been stricken with. I really do hate being black.

Here is the beautiful book cover that Friesen press created for Viktor. Isn't it awesome?! I love it! I hope you like it too!

I opened the car and sat down without knowing what to do; I just laid my forehead over my arms on the steering wheel. What would I do now? I decided to leave the parking lot and take off somewhere. I stopped in front of the police station. I took a few deep breaths and left the car. I climbed up the stairs to the right of the reception office. The police on duty kept staring at me until he kindly asked me what happened or if there was a problem since I looked bad. I swallowed and began to stutter. "Miss...Were you a victim of a sexual act performed against your will?”... “Yes” “You're lyin' madame, because we know that dude for whom you're getting a case filed against. He is a part of our police team and had a camera on his shirt that we can see from our computer and ½ of what you said was true like the sexual acts allegations and we're sorry about that, so, we'll cut your jail time in half. The result is just half aN year in jail.”

How Would You Feel if: When you opened your eyes, the sunlight was beaming through the window. You suppose it is an early afternoon since the sun was pounding down. You took a glance at the ceiling; it was a cream color and there was a lamp shaped like a teardrop; the walls were an apricot color with some rural pictures hanging. Your look was fixed on them for a brief while, then, you simply opened your eyes completely; a lock of hair was in your eye; You gently scraped it out of the way with your finger. You felt something moist when you touched your face. When you glanced at your hand, it was drenched with blood. You sat up in bed, surprised, and you saw him alongside you— a young man with short hair, dull skin, eyes shut, his face and chest secured with blood. He had a stream of blood hanging out of his mouth, however, it was solid-dry by then. You didn't comprehend what was going on- thoughts and questions had started to fill your head- Why is there a wounded guy next to me and where has he come from. You nudged him with your finger to wake him up— he was cold. His skin was bone-tweaking cold. This is what happened to Camryn, though. To find out, Read part 1B.