PROJECT PEN SEASON ONE.

STAGE FOUR REVIEWS : PART TWO.

THEME : TEAR JERKER

Welcome Back! This is a Continuation of the Stories and Judges Review for the Stage Four Contestants. Let's get into the last seven stories for this Stage.

014  Pam

015  Zirachi

019  Black Rose

020  Temi_Creates

021  Netsuke_Writes

023  Faywrites

027  CY

PEN NAME : PAM

SERIAL NO: 014

Na

You used to tell me that there's a type of love worth fighting for and holding on to. You said that type of love is forever, and that though all other things may pass away, that type of love never fades.

We came so far together, and sometimes, in fact all the time, I wish we could have gone even farther but fate had something else in store for us. Your distinct smell has since faded from your clothes but I don't think I can forget it.

It lingers in the atmosphere and comes with the memories we made. It chokes me sometimes, even up to the point where I can't breathe forcing me to claw at my throat.

I have shed tears and even as I pen this down, tears well up in my eyes. I have cried myself an ocean but can't seem to build a bridge to get over it.

There’s a moment before the news of the death of a loved one sinks in. It’s that split second that comes with the biggest change that can break a person. It's like a hand reaches into your heart wrenching it into tiny pieces taking a bit of you with it.

You wish you can unhear and rewind so you can return to the time before it. I felt the initial numbness, the one that comes with a part of my brain wanting to protect me from the hurt.

Watching you become a shell of who you used to be broke my heart to pieces. It was painful seeing a person that used to be so full of joy lose their light and become dull. They said the cancer was too aggressive, that you had only four months lo live but no amount of prediction could have prepared me for the hurt that came with losing you.

The love we had was one our friends termed beautiful, the kind that comes with a promise for the future, that gives a sense of security and a promise of home. It's a kind that keeps on giving, that does not die with the giver.

Life is short, they say but I did not believe this until in your last moments. I thought we had forever to continue loving. You had already proposed, we were planning our wedding. It was supposed to be beautiful, magical even with members of both families present. I was supposed to say my vows and pledge my whole life to you, something I would have done gladly.

You were supposed to wear the black suit, the one you're dressed in now even as you are laid to rest. The congregation expects me to say something about you in a few minutes, but how can I summarize your lifetime in a few minutes? How can I say what you mean to me in just a few words?

I love you so much, down to the littlest of details. I love the way you used to look at me, the way I feel when I am with you. I love the little wrinkle you had when you smiled and that is the memory I want to have of you.

There are times I told you that I wished to see myself from your point of view, that maybe then would I understand why you chose me. You told me that I should believe in myself, and you were there while I embarked on my journey to self discovery. You made me a better person and taught me to love my flaws.

Words cannot express how much you mean to me, not that they don't exist but because I can't seem to find them. Time they say heals all wounds, and the Yorubas say that "Dídùn ni ìrántí àwọn olódodo." I want to be able to mention you or recall the times we spent together without shedding tears. I want to be able to say something about you without feeling down.

I would try to be better for you, to live and not survive just like you requested. I realized that I would never really make you proud by living this way, and so I have decided to let you go. It hurts so bad, but grief is a cycle I pray to come out of.

I miss you, so much that it hurts and I still wish to see you one last time. Just like you used to say, "oju a tunra ri", we would meet again.

Till next time Ace,

Your Bami.

JUDGE'S REVIEW

As always Pam, you don't disappoint. You story was very good. Your punctuations and Grammar were on point as well, which they have always been.

However, I think the one issue I have with your entry is the lack of spontaneity. It was kinda heartfelt, but the feeling was surface for me. It didn't hit deep. I think it was in the first stage that you wrote something pretty similar this particular story, that is "Ode to an Unsung Hero", abi? No offense, but I think that one was more of a Tear Jerker than this one.

There was something very peculiar about that story that pulled my heartstrings and brought tears to my eyes in a way this one didn't, even though it's between two lovers. I can't say for certain what exactly was wrong with this one, maybe it's because It was as if I was reading a watered version of "Ode to an Unsung Hero". Maybe you should have tried a different approach and a different storyline to the theme.

For me, your story is good. You check the boxes of punctuation and grammar, but not very much in Theme Execution.

PEN NAME : ZIRACHI

SERIAL NO : 015

“Where is the doctor?!” I yelled as soon as I ran into the hospital, tears running down my cheeks. I looked Nora, who was gasping for air on the stretcher. I wrapped took her palms in mine.

“The doctor is coming, Nora. I promise,” I whispered as I squeezed her hands. “You will be alright, Nora.”

Dark, droopy eyes detached from life stared at me, and my heart broke all over just looking at her. Her lips were already turning blue and she had began to spit out foam. Even as she was fighting to breathe, she still managed a nod, clasping her palms around mine.

“I’m sorry, you can’t come in here with her,” a nurse said, pushing me outside as the other nurses rushed Nora inside. I hadn’t realized we were already at the ICU.

I sighed, reluctantly pulling my hands away from Noras’. Without protest, I took a few steps backward, watching the nurse shut the door in my face. I ran my hands through my already messed up hair as I turned around, facing my parents who had taken a seat on the bench which was outside the ICU.

I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself as more tears streamed down my face.

I didn’t need to ask why Nora had poisoned herself. Why she thought killing herself was the best way to end everything she was going through.  That was because I already knew the reason, but I didn’t take her serious then.

I should have listened.

This was all my fault. I should have taken her serious. I should have listened when she first told me about it.

I remembered that day vividly. It was still very fresh in my mind. I sighed, meeting my mother’s eyes for a second before turning to the tinted glass windows of the ICU. I stared at my reflection in the window. My eyes were red and puffy. Swollen from hours of crying. The rubber holding my hair together was almost off, the curly strands of my hair sticking out from different places. In one word, I looked miserable.

“Efe, I think you should take a seat and relax,” my mom said. “Sit down.”

Adamantly, I remained standing. I couldn’t sit down and relax while Nora was experiencing pain inside that room.

“Efe, sit down,” my father ordered. My shoulders slumped as I obeyed, sitting down on the bench, next to them. Immediately, the ache in my legs and back began to relive me.

I placed my elbows on my thighs, putting my face in my palms. As I closed my eyes, the memories of that that day came to my mind, and I forced myself to remember every second of it.

*Flashback*

I walked into the classroom, my eyes focused on the movie I was watching on my phone as I chewed gum.

I halted for a moment, my eyes widening as I finally reached the part I had been waiting for. The part where Kiki and Cole kissed! Unfortunately, that was the climax of the movie.

A grin stretched on my face as I exited PlayIt, the app I used to watch the movie. Putting my phone into my blazers pocket, I raised my head and my eyes landed on Nora who was sitting by the window, staring outside.

My grin widened as I walked closer to her, blowing the gum which gave a loud ‘pop’. I dragged a chair closer, positioning it in a way that it faced her, then I took a seat.

“Nora!” No reply.

“Nora! Hello?” painful silence.

I frowned, wondering what she was thinking of that made her so detached from her environments.

“Nora,” I called again, but my reply was silence. Finally, I tapped her, making her jump as if in shock.

“Heyy,” she said, a wide smile easily replacing her shocked expression.

“What is the matter, Nora? You didn’t hear me come in, and when I was calling you also,” I said, my brows furrowing in concern.

She glanced at me, then looked outside, her bright smile falling. “If I tell you, would you keep it a secret?”

“A secret? What is it?” I asked, my frown deepening.

“You know my uncle? The one I live with?” She asked, clasping her hands together.

“Yes…why?” I asked, confused. What does her uncle have to do with the reason she was worried?

She opened her mouth to speak then closed it, probably rethinking if it was worth it to tell me. Finally, she sighed, closing her eyes. I saw a tiny tear slid down her cheek.

“What is wrong with you Nora?” I asked, taking her hand. “You are my best friend. You can tell me anything.”

She took in a deep breath, opening her eyes. She stared down at her skirt. “He takes advantage of me.”

I stared at her. And stared. And stared. Till I finally found my voice. “You mean, he rapes you?”

She looked at me, then quickly looked away as if she was ashamed of herself. She gave a nod.

“Ahn Ahn, stop it joor. Which kind of joke is this one?”

“I’m not joking, Efe. I’m being serious,” she replied quietly.

Not being able to control myself, laughter burst out of me. I really laughed, because I found all of this funny. Rape victims were supposed to be the perfect definition of depression. They were always brooding. Especially those who were regular victims.

But Nora was not like that. She was the perfect definition of sunshine. So bright. So what is all this one she’s saying like this?

I continued laughing, clapping my hands. “I know you are practicing for that drama you are to present at literature class. You are very good, I assure you, your teacher will give you a hundred percent!”

I punched her arm playfully. “Star girl!”

Nora smiled, then pulled me into a hug. “Thank you ehn.”

*Flashback over*

I shook my head, angry at myself for not listening to her. I took it as a joke, instead of being serious.

Finally, I understood the meaning of ‘Do not judge a book by its cover’. That was definitely what I did with Nora. And look where it led me.

I wished I had noticed the pain and sadness behind her smiles, but then, there are so much things a smile could hide.

I don’t know how many minutes, or hours, we had spent here. I didn’t take my phone from the car, and there wasn’t a wall clock here.

Impatiently, I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. Just then, the door opened, and the doctor came out.

I got up, rushing to her. “How is she?”

She sighed, patting my shoulders. She turned to my parents who were now standing behind me. “Mr and Mrs Obasi, the poison had done so much damage to her organs before you guys got here. I’m sorry, but we lost her.”

At that moment, I went numb. I stopped seeing. I stopped hearing.

I should have listened. She wouldn’t have thought the best option was to end her life. But now she was dead.

I wish I listened.

JUDGE'S REVIEW

Well done!!! You not only did justice to the theme, but you were also able to tell a very important and beautiful story. I loved how you talked about sexual assaults, the stereotypes of sexual assaults, and how it affects their victims.

And don't even get me started on your perfect use of punctuation, the right use of tenses, and everything. Your story flow was amazing and I felt Efe's pain, her self-blame, her desperation, and her despair. Once again, well done.

I did notice a mistake or two in your opening line though.

"... I looked Nora... I wrapped took her hand in mine."

I'm sure they are mistakes of omission because those two were the only mistakes but this is a competition, if anything, your story shouldn't have mistakes like that.

PEN NAME : BLACK ROSE

SERIAL NO : 019

TITLE : HAPPY BIRTHDAY

An overwhelming childish excitement filled me as the pending celebration came to my mind for the umpteenth time, just that evening alone. The giddy feeling that made my insides swirl with nothing but happiness didn't dull down in the slightest, even as I drove home from work.

Anyone seeing me would think I had won a lottery or something but it wasn't anything like that.

Her birthday.

My wife's birthday was what set me in such a happy mood. Knowing her, I knew that that was probably the last thing on her mind. But as she clocks forty tomorrow I would celebrate her in my own little way.

The repeated tapping on my window alerted my attention to the fact that I was now parked in my compound. The excited eyes of my little boy stared back at me as he continued to tap on the window.

I couldn't help the small laughter that escaped my lips. My hands worked to turn off the car engine and undo my seatbelt. Before opening the door and getting out, I stretched over to the backseat to retrieve my briefcase.

“Daddy!" Ayo squealed, his lips stretched in a joyful smile as his arms latched as far as it could go, around my legs.

“How was school?" I asked with a smile while bending to lift him up.

“School was fine." He beamed,“Today was even my friend's birthday."

“That's good." Came my reply,“Where is your sister?"

“She's cooking with Mummy." His fingers fiddled with my beard absentmindedly as he answered me.

My eyes widened in mild surprise as we walked into the house,“Mummy is back already?"

“Yes! And she is making rice and big chicken!"

I chuckled when his tongue ran over his lips in one swift motion, at the end of his statement. The dreamy, hunger-filled look that settled on his face was a sight to behold.

I too suddenly felt hungry as the savoury scent of the meal evaded my senses. Whatever it was, my wife was cooking smelt divine.

“Ayo! Come and taste."

That was all it took to have Ayo wiggling out of my grip. I walked after him as he ran towards the kitchen to answer his sister.

“Daddy, good evening." She greeted me once I stepped into the kitchen.

“Evening, Ife." My response was punctuated with a smile. I moved over to my wife who was standing by the electric cooker turning whatever was in the pot,“Baby."

I placed a light kiss to her cheek as my hand circled around her waist from behind. Her cheeks reddened immediately as she gently nudged me away.

She placed the lid back on the pot before turning to face me. It has been a little over twenty years since I married this woman yet I could never get used to her beauty.

A forever young kind of beauty.

Her doll-like eyes stared up at me probably wondering why I had gone mute. It still held the same innocence it did years ago and when I thought I couldn't be mesmerized any further, she smiled.

Her round, pink lips stretched out into a smile I can only describe as heavenly.

“Why are you staring at me like that?" Amusement danced about in her eyes,“Ehn, Segun?"

“You are beautiful, Ini." I stated truthfully as heat crept to her cheeks once more. She bashfully turned her face away from me like a teen girl before her crush,“How is it possible that after so long I fall even deeper everytime I look at you?"

Inioluwa's eyes widened at my question as she playfully hit me across my chest. But I wasn't even done with pouring out my emotions.

“Do you know how thankful to God I feel each time I realise that you are my wife? That you, Ini, my highschool sweetheart became the mother of my children. Do you understand the kind of joy that fills me whenever I come to terms with the fact that we made it to this point?"

At this point, her eyes had found mine again and she did absolutely nothing to hide the plethora of emotions that plagued them. We stayed that way, getting lost in each other's eyes. Drowning in the warmth that radiated from both our bodies.

“Mummy!" Ayo shrieked, shattering the haze we were lost in.

Our attention was instantly snapped over to the six years old boy who stood there pointing an accusatory finger at his elder sister.

Ini separated her body from mine and walked over to Ayo. Crouching down to his level, she wiped away the thin stream of tears that ran down his cheeks.

“What did Ife do?" She asked while patting his back in an attempt to pacify him. Ife on the other hand just stared at Ayo as though she wanted to slap him silly for causing such a fuss.

“Sister Ife refused to give me chicken to eat." He choked out between tears.

I mentally facepalmed at Ayo's antics but nevertheless, walked over to where he stood and carried him.

“Don't cry anymore, you will eat chicken later. Let me give you chocolate now, okay?" I tried to cajole him to calm down.

The way his teary eyes lit up at the mention of chocolate shocked me. I heard Ini let out a sigh of relief as I walked out of the kitchen with Ayo.

Children and how they interrupt special moments…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“...in the mighty name of Jesus we have prayed. Amen." We concluded our prayer before meal with the sign of the cross and dug into our plates of steaming hot jollof rice with chicken and salad.

“Mummy, do you have any engagements tomorrow?" Ife asked just as we had planned days before.

“Nothing much. I just have a few families to visit for the latest project my NGO is launching." Ini answered.

My daughter nodded at her response as we all focused back on our meal. Eating time was relatively quiet with only a few chattering here and there.

As my wife took her plate out of the dining room, I whispered to Ife,“I'll wake you up tomorrow morning by around 6:30."

She nodded with a smile and went back to deboning Ayo's chicken.

I took the last scoop of rice left on my plate and exited the dining room too. I walked into the kitchen only to see Ini clutching her head in pain. Her face was contorted in pure agony.

“Ini." I called out in a panicked whisper as I quickly made my way over to her side. She was hunched over the kitchen sink cradling her head,“What happened to you?"

She managed to shake her head a little as if to tell me not to worry before turning on the tap and splashing water on her face.

I wasn't still convinced though but I dropped my plate on the sink and returned my attention to her,“You don't look fine, Ini. What's wrong?"

She sighed a little,“It's just a headache. Work was abit stressful today."

Her skin looked pale and sweaty, her eyes weren't even focusing on one point anymore. Before she could make any form of resistance, I carried her bridal style and made my way to our bedroom.

Gently placing Ini on the bed, I went over to the basket of drugs kept in our room and took out some painkillers. After handing her a bottle of water and painkillers, I went into the bathroom to get a small bucket of water and a little napkin.

When she felt the bed dip, her eyes fluttered open as she looked at me with obvious worry,“I don't feel so good, Segun. My head is really hurting."

“It's okay." I said to her, my tone as soft as possible,“You'll be fine, Ini. I believe it is just work stress."

She only nodded and closed her eyes again. By the time I finished wiping her down, she was already fast asleep. I disposed of the water and came back to the room.

I placed feathery kisses on her forehead as I laid down beside her on the bed.

“You will be fine, Ini." I repeated in a whisper but I couldn't deny the fact that this was a bit off.

Ini doesn't usually look this pale from just a headache. She doesn't even get sick, her only health issue being high BP because it was hereditary in her family line.

Don't worry, Ini. I promise to surprise you tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was up as soon as my alarm went off. I looked over at Ini who turned a little at the disturbance before settling back in her sleeping position.

Quietly creeping out of the room, I went over to Ife and Ayo's shared room at the other end of the hall. A few taps and name calling had Ife waking up.

“Good morning, Daddy." She greeted me while stifling a yawn.

“Morning." I responded,“It's time, let's go."

She followed after me into the kitchen where she would be helping me as I prepared Ini's birthday breakfast.

“What are we making?" Ife asked.

“Pancakes, toasted bread with egg and coffee." I replied, already getting out the items I would need.

Ife and I went about preparing breakfast with so much excitement. In a matter of minutes, we were all done with both cooking and decorating the pancake with syrup, strawberries and all that.

“Mummy will be so happy." She commented with a smile.

“I hope she will. Thanks for your help, Ife. You and Ayo should share what's left."

She nodded and waved me away with the breakfast tray.

I would have thrown a glamorous party for Ini just that she wasn't one for parties. So aside from the birthday breakfast, I had already ordered an ice cream cake and we would go shopping for whatever she wanted.

When I got to my bedroom door, I suddenly felt shy but I brushed it away and cleared my throat, in preparation to sing happy birthday once I opened the door.

After a few calming breaths, I walked in.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you." I sang with so much joy although really offkey as I walked towards her,“Happy birthday, my sweetheart. Happy birthday to you."

Ini didn't even stir at all. Her head was turned away from me even after I got to where she was and dropped the tray on the bedside table.

I lightly patted her hair and made to wake her up when my eyes landed on her face.

Blood.

Panic set in as sighted the blood that ran out of her nose. I carried her and raced out of the room.

“Stay with Ayo! I'm coming back." I told Ife as I ran out of the house in just my night wear.

Placing Ini in the car, I sped all the way to the nearest hospital. I watched her get wheeled into the emergency centre. My heart hammered in chest as fear overtook me.

I paced about the hospital lobby, waiting for someone to tell me something. Anything, about my wife's situation.

The minutes went by at an excruciatingly slow pace till I was called upon.

“Mr. Segun Balogun." The doctor called out my name and that had me running over to him. His expression gave absolutely nothing away.

“That's me, Doctor." I said in a panicked voice.

“Follow me." He instructed calmly. I walked after him and into a moderate sized office.

“Doctor please, how is my wife?"

He didn't answer me but instead asked me questions of his own,“Did she even complain of constant headaches? Migraines? Or even sharp pains in her head?"

I didn't get where he was going but I answered nonetheless,“I don't know about any sharp pains but she had headaches at times that usually subsided with just painkillers and sleep."

The doctor wrote down what I said before turning to me again,“Did she have any BP troubles or atherosclerosis or any trauma to the head?"

“I don't understand your questions, Doctor. How is my wife? And how do these questions relate to her?"

He finally let out a sigh,“She suffered a brain aneurysm and unfortunately, we lost her."

I burst out in laughter that could only be described as manic,“Lost who? It cannot be Ini. Please tell me what is actually wrong with my wife."

The doctor's face remained solemn as he shook his head in pity. All traces of amusement evaporated from my system as disbelief set in.

“I want to see, Ini." I stated,“Nothing happened to her. She was fine yesterday, just a headache from work stress. I even have birthday breakfast and surprises prepared and you are telling me you lost her. God forbid."

“Sir." He called out calmly,“I'm sorry but your wife was dead on arrival. We tried to–"

“No!" I screamed, shutting him up,“You can't tell me that the person who made dinner for me yesterday is gone! What do I tell our children?"

“I'm sorry for your loss, Sir." He repeated.

“Doctor, doctor." I called in a warning tone,“Stop playing with me. Infact, let's go. I want to see Ini let her tell me what sort of birthday prank this is."

The doctor didn't say anything, he only stood up and beckoned on me to follow him. We turned down a couple of hallways before he opened a door where I saw two nurses standing over a person.

He waved them out of the room and that's when I saw that Ini was the one laying there. There was no more blood on her nose, she looked peacefully like she always does when she's asleep.

“Ini." I called softly, sitting on the chair beside her bed,“Ini, please wake up. Let's go home. Ife and I prepared breakfast for you. My love, you know today is your birthday, I don't want you spending it on a hospital bed."

But she didn't respond. Her face maintained its peaceful nature, I couldn't even notice the rise and fall of her chest.

I placed a light kiss on her cheek,“I love you, Ini. Please don't do this to me."

My insides were burning, my throat was heavy as though I would burst out in tears at any moment. I desperately wanted to believe that nothing happened to her but slowly the horrible realisation was setting in.

And as it set in, the tears flowed out like a broken faucet,“How do I take care of Ife and Ayo without you? What am I supposed to tell them when I go home without you? How could you do this to me, Ini?!"

I let out a painful scream as reality slapped me in the face. She was really gone and I would never see her beautiful smile again.

JUDGE'S REVIEW

Your character description and execution was really good. Your story flowed effortlessly without a bump to bore me out.

I loved the way you described his emotions of love, and pain through show and tell and I'm impressed on how you improved on your word play.

Now the story, you really did justice to the theme, even though I had an inkling that something bad would happen to her it still hit hard, it was a simple story but the simplicity gave it an easygoing feel.

Though I didn't cry I felt it, it might be like a cliche storyline which is why I’m honestly impressed and shocked at how much I liked it.

I felt like I should change the ending and make her flutter her eyes open, I could feel his despair and anguish. And the last line was perfect.

This story was spot on for me, the punctuation, grammar, flow everything. I loved it.

PEN NAME : TEMI_CREATES

SERIAL NO : 020

He didn't know what he wanted. She thought she would never be enough.

Struggling in some people's world is more than hustling, it's more like striving to survive no matter what. When obstacles invade, they spread out their hands and let it hit them because they know just how they'll handle it without being too affected; well, at least two is better than one, right?

Young people who know what they want while being together would always be like the stars in the eyes of their fellow youths. Perfect relationship, goal oriented mindsets, partial understanding within each other, what more?

Oh yes, money.

“Hey baby, how was your day?” She asks, taking off his bag from his shoulder.

Ken exhales sharply, glancing around the compact one room. His girlfriend appears to his front and he smiles faintly, staring into her eyes as he raises his hand to wipe wet hair from her eyes. She must have been working again.

“Hmm?” She raises a brow, maintaining eye contact. She never gets used to the intensity twirling in the eyes of her boyfriend.

Ken swallows and licks his pale lips, “It was… nice, yes, I bought some…” He trails off, tearing his gaze to the black polythene in his hand. Kim's eyes widens as she look down to see it.

“Wow…” She takes it from him, peeping inside to see her favourite fruit. Grapes.

“Yeah, just saw it along the road and—”

His words caught off as Kim jump on him, straggling both him and his remaining words. Ken chuckles softly as he runs his hands down her back, his face buried in her small neck.

“I love you so much,” Kim muffles, taking a deep breath, her chest swelling in appreciation and gratitude.

It's been three years since they've been together. While Ken works earnestly, Kim is persistent and keen to support him in any way she can, even if it means partaking in illegal things.

“I love you too, Kim. Always,” Ken mutter, withdrawing from her. If anything, showing how much he appreciates his girl for being with him through thick and thin is something to brag about because truthfully, not every girl can do it.

“So pretty,” Ken's smile widens and watches how her lips creep up in a lopsided grin as she playfully slaps his hard arm. Ken fakes a frown.

“Well… you're welcome,” Kim drawls, taking his hand as they walk to settle on the bed. “You must be tired, you should rest, I already prepared some…”

Ken gently wraps his hand on her waist, sits on the squeaking bed and sits her on his lap.

“Hey…” Kim laughs, adjusting to seat properly. Ken holds her intact, while Kim wraps her hand around his shoulder, smugging herself closer.

Everyday, she can't help thinking of how lucky she is to have a best friend she won't think twice of being with for the rest of her life. They might be struggling for now, trying to earn a good living but the one thing they believe is that hard work pays in the end.

“Can you please stay with me for sometime, please?” Ken rest his head on her shoulder, heaving a deep breath. Kim nods understandingly, blindly cupping his face with her free hand. She leans down and peck his forehead.

“Sure, I'm here for you.”

•••

She blows out her cheeks again, and again, but no matter what, she can't seem to catch her breath. It's like her lungs are getting plunged out of her chest bit and bit, leaving her breathless and gasping for air.

Her vibrating hands take up the envelope on her worn out desk, just for it to fall again.

Kim squatted low to pick it again, then drag herself to sit on the bed. It's been five months since she last saw him, and so getting a letter from her boyfriend who had to travel to another state for his upcoming new business deal is more than heartwarming.

Kim shut her eyes as she tear the brown paper, revealing a white paper filled with writings. She nod, a smile appearing on her lips as she opens her eyes.

Hey Kimberly,

It's me, Kennedy.

Reading the first lines makes her chuckle softly as the sweet imaginary voice of her boyfriend clouds her head.

This should be like the twentieth letter I'm sending you because heaven knows just how much I appreciate you in my life.

Kim nods like she can hear him say it directly to her. She raises her head and blink her eyes, she misses him so much tears wouldn't mind verifying.

I don't know how to say this Kim… I really don't want to sound like I'm leaving you or something. I'm proud, so proud of your impact in my life. But, it took me sometime to realise you're not the one I truly want. Kim, I don't want you to take this the wrong—

Kim raises her head from what she's reading, her brows furrowing as she flip the paper back and front. This should be a prank.

“Okay, let's read to the end where he finally says it's a prank.” Kim says to herself as she stretches open the paper.

You mean so much to me Kim, but as much as I think about it, I can't help but feel remorseful in my current stage.

Kim swallows. She runs her fingers on the inked writing, and it draws to her. The ink looks different, smells different, screams… expensive.

Since when did he make it so big?

Truth is, I can't say this to your face. After all the struggles, I can't even face you and I don't think I'll ever do.

“No…” Kim breathe out, her heart racing dangerously. “No, no, no, please…”

If I'll regret this choice or not, I'm yet to know, but what I do know is you're forever in me, your impact in my life won't go away, even if I do.

She can't read it anymore.

The paper slips from her hand as memories upon memories cloud her senses, her vision becoming blurry. All the promises, all the worthy spent moments, all the challenges, interpreted in a sheet of paper.

Ken always said when he's back, things would be better than this with him being financially stable. And now he is, he can even afford a costly pen just to write to her, but he isn't here to let her taste what it feels like.

Is money now a bad thing? Something if she knew she wouldn't wish to have?

She had always believed in choosing him over anything, and vice versa.

Guess that's how humanly human we all are.

JUDGE'S REVIEW

I really liked your opening line but honestly I think I liked it more than the rest of the story.

You left nothing for me to imagine, yes they were poor and struggling but other than you telling us I didn't see anything that could prove that point.

You would have shown us how much they were unstable financially, maybe by describing the peeling walls and barely standing furniture or the internal suffering on how to plan what to eat with the little they have or how to manage their puny income till they got anything more to top off.

I didn't feel any of that, you just told us but you never showed.

The story honestly didn't move me as it should. He had left her, a ton of mind wrecking emotions suppose to be flooding in and tearing her apart but all I saw was a few unmoving tears and boo hoos and haas.

Your description wasn't the best and your play of words was almost nonexistent.

The storyline needed work, it didn't hit the theme for me because I didn't even feel it talkless for it to invoke enough emotions in me to have me crying or shedding a tear.

But I did like the first and last lines, just wished I liked the rest as much.

PEN NAME : NETSUKE

SERIAL NO : 021

TITLE : TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS

Adaeze found herself in the weirdest situation ever.

When she entered her house after a tiresome day at work, she found the two people she despised the most tied up to chairs and two men with guns next to them. Adaeze immediately dropped her bag to the ground as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I will shoot you if you do not do what we say.” One of the armed men said. He was dressed in black and the only thing she could see on his face was his eyes, because he had completely camouflaged himself.

She immediately raised her hands in surrender."I will do anything just explain to me what’s happening."

“Kill one of these two people here, otherwise we will kill you instead.” The other man said to her with such sternness it made her insides boil.

She glanced at the two people they had chosen. If it was other people she did not know, she would have chosen that they kill her instead, but the two people tied up to those chairs were the people she hated the most; the people she had always wanted to die.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked the strange men dressed in black.

“Don’t ask us stupid questions. Just decide who you will kill or we will shoot you instead.” The moment they repeated those words, Adaeze started contemplating on who to kill.

Her stepmother swallowed her saliva hard when she noticed Adaeze considering the possibility of killing her." Please, Adaeze, I’m sorry for everything, just do not kill me!"

Adaeze laughed loudly. This was the opportunity she had always wished for. A time when her stepmom would beg for her forgiveness.

“Now you’re asking for my forgiveness after everything you did to me. I suffered my whole life because of you. When dad died, you turned into the devil himself. You treated me so badly, I have not forgotten any of those moments. I can literally write a whole novel entitled: evils my stepmom did to me—” she had more to say, but she got cut off by her stepmother.

“Adaeze, I’m sorry for everything. I really am!” Her stepmom said with tears in her eyes, but Adaeze did not think those tears were enough to make her forgive her.

“You made me suffer so much and you think a 5 lettered word can change those sufferings you caused.” Adaeze tore up as all the terrible memories came to her mind." I remember all the times you beat me up for no apparent reason. You hated me so much that I almost died under your hand and it probably hurt you that I kept living. I remember how you did not hesitate to burn my hand in hot charcoal when I did not wash your pile of clothes and how you made me wash your clothes in all that pain. Look at my hand, the scars are still there even now!"

“I’m sorry about that.” Her stepmother said, and even though she apologized again, Adaeze wasn’t done talking.

“That was nothing! You sold me to become a sex worker. Ruining my future because you did not want me to succeed. Do you realize how much I suffered because of that action? I was raped countlessly, and I had nowhere to sleep as a result. The fact that I’m alive is even a miracle and you’re here apologizing like that will change anything!”

Her stepmother had already mentally given up on apologizing. She could tell from Adaeze’s tone of voice that in a few seconds, she’d be dead.

Adaeze glared at her ex-boyfriend, who was also tied up to a chair. He was blinking his eyes rapidly, which she knew was something he did whenever he gets scared. The fact that he was scared, heavily amused Adaeze.

She burst into laughter even though a few seconds ago she was just crying." Oh, dear George. You know how much I hate you, right?"

“I’m sorry Adaeze, I have been a jerk to you all these years, but I really am sorry. Please forgive me.” She noticed a tear on his face, which was strange because George wasn’t the type to cry. He surely wanted to live, and that made Adaeze more amused.

She walked over to where George sat tied up and slapped him." I’ve been waiting for many years to do that to you. "

“I’m really sorry, Adaeze,” George said. He knew he deserved that slap after all he did to her.

“We met in high school and you acted like you cared about me. That’s one reason I fell for you. When you found out I was sold as a sex worker, you did everything you could to help me; saying you loved me. I moved in with you, thinking my life would be amazing, but you turned my life into a living hell. I already dealt with my evil stepmother, but then it was more painful to deal with you.” She began to shed more tears.

“I’m sorry.” Unlike her stepmom, George wasn’t willing to stop apologizing.

“Are you sorry for slut shaming me? For raping me many times and giving me AIDS, for violently abusing me every time you drank too much alcohol. Are you sorry for sending me into depression? Do you realize how you treated me had a permanent effect on my life that even now, I’m living with those traumas? I take antidepressants every day and I feel like I’m slowly losing myself. Are you sorry for causing me misery? Come on, say you’re sorry!” Adaeze said in a teary voice, her eyes puffy from crying.

“I will completely understand if you kill me, and that’s why I want you to know I’m genuinely sorry.” George sounded so genuine that Adaeze could not believe the devil would repent.

Adaeze stared at both her stepmother and George. She finally made the decision of whom she wanted dead.

She turned her head to one of the armed men."Can you shoot me?"

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” George said, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, I thought you’d shoot me dead.” Her stepmother said, shaking her head in denial.

“I paid these men to kidnap you and bring you into my house so that you could see how easy it is for me to kill you. But despite all the evil things you did to me, I forgive you,” she wiped her tears and grinned." But I can not keep living this life. I’m hopeless and traumatized. I live this life every day, wishing I could die. This is why I want to give you; the two people that caused my life to be so miserable, the chance to watch me die."

“Please do not shoot her. We are sorry. We don’t want you to die!” Her stepmother exclaimed, shocking her. George sat silent as tears fell down his cheek.

“I want to die. This is the only way to get me out of this torture called life. Shoot me now!” She commanded and what followed next was the sound of a gunshot.

JUDGE'S REVIEW

First off, Netsuke, I have to commend one thing that has bee constant about you from the beginning of this contest up until this stage, and that it the neatness of your work.

You write so beautifully, with perfectly punctuated narrations and dialogues, and you have a way of presenting your work in such a way that makes it new and refreshing to read.

Another thing I love about you as a writer is the way that you have conditioned yourself to always come up with something new and different each time. Your stories are not something that you would see everyday; they are definitely not the kind of work that you read everyday. It is new and it is always unique. As a writer, myself, I will commend that about you. It goes far to show just how much your creativity can span and it is highly impressive.

Now, speaking solely about this story, I would love to give some details of what I noticed in your work. The first thing that caught me was the opening line. As a writer, your opening line should be something that will grasp your readers into wanting to see more, and truthfully, you nailed it! I wanted to see what this 'weird situation' was all about and to make things even better, you have made yourself the kind of writer that I am always willing to see new things from, so with an opening line like that and a knowledge of the kind of writer you are that is capable of hitting me with something I won't expect, I was excited to see what the 'weird situation' was. So, in that line, you are a boss!

Another thing that called my attention in the beginning of the story was the vibes it gave me. I'd love to say it was sounding like a 'folk tale', but with a more contemporary twist, if that makes any sense. Those kind of stories that sound like it's going to have some cheesy moral lesson. It was just a new spice, and I loved it.

However, I had one issue with your work, Netsuke. I have a subtle feeling that emotional kinds of stuff is not your forte, and don't get me wrong, it's not a bad thing. Your Writer's voice is light hearted and fun and I believe it shows the kind of person you probably are, which is sweet. So, I can understand why it would be a bit difficult to tap into the 'dark side' of writing perfectly, but you put in effort and that's what matters.

But, for future cases, when writing about a character who is supposed to be feeling a strong emotion, try to adapt the 'five senses rule' and see how it influences your work. You know the five senses? Let your character feel the emotions everywhere: let the horror show in their eyes (sight), let the air be too hard to breathe and toxic to inhale (smell), let them have goosebumps or chill, or maybe a whiplash, or a splash of cold water on their back (touch), or  let them choke a bit and maybe taste the bitterness of the bile ok their tongue (taste); use these five senses according to your creativity and don't particularly take my examples, word for word. Don't jampack everything they feel with their five senses too; space it out into different parts of the work, but link it all perfectly to whatever emotion they feel, and see how much more your work will hit the readers. Try this and see for yourself!

You had a beautiful story to tell. But, if you had told it with the right techniques to evoke tears, I'd have been ugly crying. You did a good job. The twist at the end was unexpected. Your creativity is out of this world, Netsuke!

PEN NAME : FAYWRITES

SERIAL NO : 023

TITLE : UNLUCKY LUCKY

Have you ever wondered who has the worst luck? Wonder no more because without a doubt, I Melanie Lucky Aderogba, am that person.

It seems I was born that way because my parents took one look at me and decided they didn't want me. I was abandoned in the hospital after my birth. Thankfully, an orphanage took me in as no one came in search of me.

Life in the orphanage wasn't a rosy one, I was constantly reminded that I was one of the rejected ones. I prayed day and night that someone would adopt me but as always, I wasn't good enough.

As I grew older, I realized that I had to work harder than most people to get a good life. I remember hawking sachet water in the streets of Lagos daily, to augment my basic needs, as the orphanage didn't have sufficient funding to cater to all the kids under their care.

I was determined to prove to everyone that I could achieve all my dreams on my own. So I studied day and night. I sowed with my blood, sweat, and tears in hopes that one day, I'll get to be in a position where no one will ever want to reject or abandon me again.

My hard work yielded fruit and I was offered a scholarship to one of the most prestigious secondary schools in the country. My joy knew no bounds and I couldn't wait to begin my ascend to the top.

My new school was a nightmare. I honestly cannot tell if I would have gone through with my application if I was made aware of the internal runnings of the school. The school had a weird system that divided kids into three groups, which were the cool kids, the regular kids, and the outcasts.

The cool kids were at the top of the food chain, their parents practically ran the school with their deep pockets. They were children of high-end socialites and sometimes loved to refer to themselves as the 'Elite group'.

The regular group was like the safe group. They weren't poor like the outcasts but they certainly weren't rich enough to be part of the Elites. Their parents had good social standings and good steady incomes.

The last group was the outcasts, far down at the bottom of the food chain. It included the nobodies and scholarship kids, like me.

I was the lowest of the low and even my fellow outcasts hated me. Whenever something went wrong, the outcasts were blamed and the outcasts automatically blamed me.

I got tripped in hallways on daily basis and I felt like a mousy prey in a world full of lion-like predators.

There were times when I slept on the cold hard floor and had several meals taken away because I had performed better than a cool kid in my class. Many times, I had been tossed to the side because someone else had money to buy the position I worked absolutely hard for.
I was often referred to as 'Melanie the queen of darkness' or 'unlucky Lucky'. I was a subject of ridicule to everyone.

"Her name is Lucky? What an irony." They said.

"Melanie, why did your parents abandon you, were they scared your bad luck will rub off on them?" Genevieve, one of the cool kids and my most dedicated tormentor would ask regularly.

I remember how much I'll weep in the bathroom and then come out acting all tough. It was obvious that they saw through my ruse but I persisted, for my self-esteem.

It was hell but I endured. When I graduated, I promised never to let anyone make me feel like an outcast again but as always life found a way to bite me in the ass.

There I was, many years later, feeling more like an outsider than ever before.

The picture of my loving husband sat on my hand like a thorn in my flesh. It wasn't because I hated him, but because of what the picture portrayed.

A complete family.

There, was my husband surrounded by strangers although they didn't seem like strangers to him. He had his arms wrapped like a protective shield around a woman who was smiling brightly at the camera, one of her hands resting on the very noticeable bulge on her stomach. Two kids, male and female, sat by their sides. They looked like the perfect family.

I remember questioning my eyes, surely I wasn't seeing well, and my brain was interpreting the picture wrongly.

Emptying the contents of the box where I had found the picture only confirmed the truth I already knew but didn't want to believe. There were more pictures of the lady and the kids, birth certificates, passports, and a marriage certificate.

I could feel my heart breaking into tiny fragments that would never be pieced together again. I could hardly keep track of my emotions. I was sad, hurt, angry, betrayed, and broken, all at the same time.

Heart-wrenching sobs escaped me and angry tears rolled down my cheeks. I still wasn't enough even after everything. Dare had abandoned me, just like my parents all those years ago. We had been married for seven years and yet he had made me an outsider, subjected me to the mockery and humiliation I knew was coming.

"That's the woman whose husband abandoned her for another, do you know he had another family without her knowledge and it's because she couldn't bear him a child." They'll point at me and whisper among themselves.

Was I even still married? What right could a barren woman fight for?

"Lord! What did I do to deserve this fate? I've tried to get my life in order but you decided to make me barren, where is my respite? I'm all alone again, I've been tossed to the curb once more, like a piece of rag. Why don't you just take my life and spare me this heartbreak?" I had cried out to God in anguish.

Life had grabbed me by the neck and left me gasping for breath.

I tried to end my life that night and swallowed a large number of my antidepressants. The doctors said I was lucky, that it was a miracle I had survived without severe aftermaths.
God had chosen to save me probably to prove to me that I was the only one who had control over my life.

You are what you think.

I finally realized that I had caused all my misfortunes by professing that I was unlucky. So I did things differently. I confessed that I was lucky, fertile, and enough through God.

The results were instantaneous, my life transformed right before my eyes. I leaned on the promises of God and let him carry me over every hurdle. I just relaxed and let him take care of me.

I turned to my grandkids who appeared intrigued by my tale of woe.

"So my darlings, trust in God, confess positively, and watch him perfect everything for you. Just like he did for me." I smiled and leaned backward on my chair with a solid thought in mind.

God is our anchor.

JUDGE'S REVIEW

Fay, I want you to put your hand on your head and say "I am Blessed", because Omo! You are blessed.

I felt your story, babe. I felt it to the deepest, my sensitive parts of my heart. It tugged on my heartstrings in the most beautiful way. I didn't cry o, but I felt it to my core, and honestly, that's why this Theme is all about. Your ability to tell a story that will move your readers in a very beautiful way. You did your home work, you went through the note that was sent to the house, and you delivered beautifully.

I particular like how peculiar your stories are. You always tell your stories in a narrative form (this is a trend I have noticed about you specifically), barely any dialogues and you still know how to portray the emotions of every character very well. I Love how you progressed so swiftly from when Melanie was born to when she became a grand mother, but your story was nowhere near rushed. It was perfect. This shows how good of a story teller you are.

This is how it is done, b. This is the kind of peculiarity we love to see in Project Pen. Well Done ✨.

PEN NAME : CY

SERIAL NO : 027

Threading through the crowded, narrow market streets was Tiare as he pushed the wheel barrow carrying his six years old sister, None.

"Kpim, kpim, kpim, motor vroom," None chorused amidst the noisy chatters. She held tight to the edges of the barrow as she was enjoying the joy ride. Her slim, pale cherubic face was beaming with delight.

"No comot your hand unless you will fall," Tiare cautioned her when he accelarated the speed at which he pushed the wheel barrow.

None could feel the wind rushing towards her face, water gathered in her sunken yellow eyes and it burned. There were times when her heart flew into her mouth, scared if she would collide with people on the streets but Tiare handle that wheelbarrow like a pro, swerving from left to right to avoid collision. None was safe with Tiare, he would never let anything bad happen to her.

None's stomach churned. She was hungry and the delight in her face vanished. She looked more pale than before.

"Brother, I dey hungree," None said to Tiare, craning her neck backward to glance at him. Her words were unclear, probably because she was still six years old or all six years of her life she had not attend school. No need to bother because Tiare could understand her very well. He pulled the wheelbarrow to a halt.

"Let's go and find something for us to eat."

Tiare picked None up from the wheel barrow and stood her on the ground. None nodded her head as she straightened up the ragged gown with stains and holes she had on. Tiare and None departed, Tiare went left while None left.
None glanced around looking for someone, someone with a generous heart. None stood at the middle of the street, trying to stop every person that passed her.

"Ontee, I am hungree," None said, clutching on the dress of a rich, noble lady.

The lady looked down at the bony little girl with unkempt hair and pale complexion.
"What do you want me to do?" The lady asked with a cross on her face. She was about to disappear but None held on to her dress and didn't let go.

"Pluseee," None dropped down a long face as her stomach rumbled once more, but that didn't stop the lady from pushing her aside and going away. None did this with different people, it was either they quickly ran away or pretended like they didn't hear her.

"Puhlees, I am humgree," None muttered as she clutched at her stomach while it grumbled hungrily.

None went away sad and hungry to find Tiare if he had any luck with begging. None and Tiare were street orphans and every day they find themselves begging alms at the market place to sustain themselves. Their late parents had abandoned them for their abrasive unconcerned aunt who forced them to beg for alms.

"Make una no near house unless you bring food come," these was Aunt's exact words while chomping down on pap before she sent the children out to the market.

Arriving at the same spot Tiare and None departed, None saw the wheelbarrow but no sign of her her brother. None waited for minutes but unfortunately for her, her stomach didn't let her stay for another minute. She moved towards the direction of where Tiare went.

She finally came to place crowded with by people. What is going on? None soon realized the object of spectacle as she came closer was her brother, Tiare. Tiare was laying on the cold ground on his own blood. None's eyes widened and the gates of her mouth fell open. That was her brother.

"This boy is a thief. Like the saying goes, many days for the thief and one day for the owner," the female stall owner Tiare had tried to steal from narrated to the people. Had Tiare been stealing instead of begging all this while? Tiare thought he had succeeded in making scott free but in the process of getting away, a car hit him.

None could feel her heart beat slowing down and her legs folding under.

People began to murmur as None approached her brother's body. Pity comments could be heard, "eyah.. Doh! sorry o! Chaii! Na wa o! Pele."

Hot streams of tears flooded None's face as she cried out to people around, "puleese, hep my boder." None turned back to Tiare's body and said, "Boder, latus go home."

None let out soft slow whimpers first, now louder and now groans and pain filled the air all coming from None mouth. What was she going to do? Tiare was all she had got and now he was gone. Everything she had was gone. To are couldn't die, he just couldn't.

JUDGE'S REVIEW

I’ll have to say your descriptions were spot on and so were your punctuations, I had the whole story playing in my head with ease flowing from one scene to another.

You told and showed us how these kids were struggling from little things like the paleness of their skin to the tattered clothes they had on.

You made a mistake ‘Tiare went left while None went left’ I’m sure you meant ‘Tiare went left while None went right’ or vice verse.

As the story progressed my heart broke even more till you dropped the ending. It's so painful how a six-year-old will be left to fend for herself like this. And all people could do around was watch the body and say insignificant words of ‘compassion’ without care. I think I shed a tear. You did justice to the theme.

It was beautifully heartbreaking.

And that's all for the stage four stories and our Judges Review. Stage Four is not over yet, our Judges still have their verdicts to give and the Eviction Night is in process.

Remember, five Contestants are going home in this Stage, so keep rooting for your favourite. To every contestant that has given their best to Project Pen, we say good luck.

Signed, Project Pen ✨