Delilah
One could begin by telling the story of a fulfilled life after birth and the triumphs accumulated.
One could even begin with the dark ordeals, capturing the bittersweet experiences of life like I would be doing now.
I, Delilah, loved to lie in an open field on a mat inter-woven with fine stretchy strips of foam rubber and wool most evenings.
Watched the birds fly from one tree to the other, building their nest with straws, and others tending to their little birdie.
I would giggle and smile. Yes, I was starting to lose my mind.
Something was wrong with me and I was resolved to have my sanity back.
Well, l started changing at the age of twenty after I lost my father.
I knew about that but it was one of the shits about myself that I could not amend.
Virtually two years ago at the Gold Coast Private Hospital, that turbulent moment when I was jolting between life and death.
My father, the former District Attorney in the Broken Hill local court was right beside the bed where I was laid.
His eyes were filled with concern and fear but to strengthen me, he wore a jovial countenance desiring to make me smile.
' Dearest Lilah' He began, planting kisses on the back of my palm, and giving me his usual assuring smile accompanied by a nod. 'I know you will make it because you are a powerful woman, and don't you forget that I love you so much' These were the last words I heard from my father before I was wheeled into the theatre.
After I was discharged from the hospital, I was told that my father was no more. I slumped out of shock and when I'd recuperated, I was never the same again.
Some folks said I was weird and I take that, while others considered my 'choosy' attitude as a personal preference, and some others concluded that I was being pretentious but damn it! I didn't give a fuck about them.
Well, l started changing at the age of twenty. I knew about that but it was one of the shits about myself that I could not amend.
I became multi-phobic. Doctors could not determine what could have led to my sudden change of behavior even mom as a doctor reckoned that it was natural.
I was different, even Dorothy my little sister would ask mom secretly. " Mom why is big sister a weirdo?"
When I was starting to put up a different character I caught her a few times whispering behind mom's ears, Mom never had an answer for her though so she would give me a shooting stare and walk away.
I always made sure that there was nothing like dolls or any human-shaped molten image at home and most of my room furniture had only blue or pink colours, my favorite.
I detested the sound of a moving vehicle, so in that case, I usually wore my headphones whenever I was alone at home since our house was situated in a busy part of town and abuts the road.
My mother worked as a medical doctor in the hospital, she was a daring workaholic.
She had to make daily provisions of food amongst others for her children because her husband had disappeared.
Our house was a three-storey building which initially was painted red but was replaced with blue paint at my request after persistent persuasion.
It had a sunshade opposite the garage and low grasses decorated the exterior surfaces of the house.
I personally grew rose flowers in the window boxes and around the house as well because of their scent, it always gave me the feeling of being in utopia.
The balcony on our second floor had flower vases at its four corners and a reading table was placed beside the window, that was where I attended to pending tasks from the office, and later on, I started using that as an excuse to steal glances at the new handsome neighbor who possessively swept me off my feet.
I occupied the office of a Senior Editor in Howells Publishers.
My short curly hair was usually let loose over my face except on weekdays when I was at work.
I detested many things and would not even have a look at them with my eyes. I hated the colours; orange and red. I didn't love to wear heels or suits, I hated to appear formal but I was never under-dressed for once.
I hated jam on bread but preferred roasted fish. I didn't use to throw my hands back and forth while walking as others do, and I never forgot to look back occasionally as I was being conscious so I would not fall into the same hands of those who might have abducted my father.
Mom always said to me "Lilah my love, your father disappeared after he was asked to donate his blood for you when you were dying and now he's likely married to another woman." Then she pulled down her dark glasses with her forefinger. "Or am I no longer pretty? But Lilah I'm only 42."
Mom spoke to me but her eyes were on Sir Valentine's magnificent portrait hung on the wall. Mom talked to herself more often than she did with others.
I started to be crazy when a new male neighbor started leaving in The Macdonalds, the enormous building rightly opposite ours.
The house had large glassy windows around it and a healthy gigantic bingo which was always waiting at the gate to growl and frighten robbers.
When Dorothy told me about a man packing into The Macdonalds newly I waved it aside thinking it was an everyday man but no, I started tripping when my eyes met this new neighbor. My heart was beating in my chest, I felt it but it was uncontrollable.
You know that feeling when you got a crush on someone and you just need to capture his heart immediately so he would also feel the same way?
Yes! That feeling.
But why was I doing that?
I was choiceless, that was my kind of dream man.
I found it difficult to look away from him when from my window I peeked at him stepping out for workouts every morning.
My eyes did follow him from his room down to the stairs and to his car which had tinted glasses till he was completely gone.
Fuck! What else was he looking for?
I mean he already had that alluring masculine structure. The first time I had my eyes on him was on a certain evening.
Mom had angered me, so I stormed into my room wanting to be left alone.
I was drunk from attending a party my boss arranged for his most hardworking staff and fortunately though surprising, my name appeared on his list.
I staggered to the door of my room to shut it lest mom came bashing into my ears for being drunk.
All I could remember was that I was over-excited. I felt I was in another world, a never-never land I didn't want to come back from.
But on the contrary, my hallucinations vanished the instant I went to my bed and saw him from my window.
I paused for a while and slowly, I pulled the window glasses to the left and took out the awnings, I watched as he fiddled on his guitar.
All I saw was perfection, his eyes were closed as he nodded his head to the rhythm of the music but when he opened them I saw flames.
Was that a flame? Yes, flames because they burned me. I noticed that even when we never really had eye contact.
I stood there and watched for a while. He didn't notice me nor was he looking in my direction but I felt so.
Oh, such an effect!
That was the first time I saw a man so handsome and with such splendor since I started reading about them in tales.
I'd never fallen for a man nor had a relationship in the past. I could not find someone who could take hold of my heart, my emotions, the entirety of me like this new neighbor did.
His long dreadlocks flowed down to the floor and he tied a ribbon over it.
I was already in awe as I wondered about how well he was crafted out of the earth.
His very dark brows, pointed chin, in summary, he had a chiselled good look.
From my window, I would be there staring unblinkingly, smudging my tits. I imagined how I would feel if he were mine or if he came a little closer to me so that I smell his scent.
Have I told you about his smile? While he fiddled, he lifted his face and smiled. Even in the state of alcohol I knew I was beholding something divine. His smile was the best I had ever seen.
He had a nice dentition, his beards were well trimmed and he was shirtless. Now he was a temptation!
So every morning and evening before I go to bed I had a romantic movie to watch because his windows were always left open for my hungry eyes.
That was when I suddenly started to get on the brink, asking google amusing and silly questions on how to snatch a man from his partner, how to subdue a man's heart and all of that.
I wonder why I felt he had a relationship going on but anyone would think so too because he was too cute to be single.
Incessantly after some days, I started to see women trooping in through his gate daily.
Different women, cuter than me I speculate. And after they'd ascended the outer stairs, my eyes would be waiting for them in his room and after a while, his door would open and he would stand to embrace them.
Was he really a casanova or was he doing that because he was as single as I was? Though I never really saw them fucking, I knew they had something mutual, something they revered.
That should not have been my business anyway but certainly, I knew I would let him devour me if ever he would notice the window lady.
I needed someone who would take me to the skies, the planets too. I had fantasies! I wonder why I was still a virgin at twenty-three.
That unfulfilled desire, wanting to explore, to expand my horizons, to learn about sex and the different styles because I was already tired of only watching sex clips on my cellphone.
But I knew if I would ever change my mind, surely it would be with this new fascinating neighbor.
