Penelope on the newspaper headline
Griffiths M. Mmotla Milton woke up in the humid crack of mid-February’s dawn, with the same dream that seemed to hang him otherworldly with the same questions for two weeks. Lying on his bed with lucid fragments of the dream he had amid nightly circulations, staring at the window with a poignant thought, wondering what might have been of their third-date. His pale face ascribed how tattered his dreams were, uttering a gruesome bliss of sadness across the avenue. She reminded him of the time, the time when he knew true peace of mind oozing through his veins graciously. He remembered the Newspaper headline hefting a huge tome of amassed memories of the days he had and those he didn't. It began on one idyllic Saturday mid-day at Turfloop campus, just by the park, away from his flat and dreary books. He sat down heavily beneath an elm tree, watched the clouds strike a spellbinding gush of light and warmth to his mind, merrily-gazing the time on his wrist; hoping it may not stop ticking the soothness' of the day. Students would visit for book readings, lovers on their adorning pick nicks, athletes for cardiovascular activities, and some layabouts would always be frolicking around the place, trying to reach trouble on the nearest corner. Those with itchy-feet would walk nonchalantly, away from their depressing rooms. However, it was not like any other weekend he used to have; peace and quietness were oozing the air like a palm tree as a fit subject to poetry, glistened in the blue sky. But as he turned his focus away from the clouds and looks around distant-eyed, he discerns visually of a woman, percolating a slow saunter as if she was nurturing the ground with kindness. She had light ulotrichous-red hair, matching with her dress availing her true elegant textured-tone and wore golden brown sandals to her golden colored feet with a cell-phone in-hand. As she toured closer, furthers from afar, he felt a breath tracheotomy to his lungs. He wondered, 'what wonder may this be?' Her enticing body accentuated sensational pieces in crude appeals that melodied my ears deafly. Suddenly, he could hear the silence of the breezing haulage which he was in seek of and ideate why summer's time was loved by many. He could hear the echo of emissive sounds ubiquitously whanging like pristine drums, banging resonance that caress the ear tunefully, endearing a pleasant pitched-sound, towering my heartbeat. "Sighs" How odd life is, a big-zing twist of events. One stare can intoxicate the eye with viscid perceptions of first-sight love. He was vexed a minute after being stung by her most amazing brown-eyes. They underlie with peace and harmony, then a thought lingered into his thoughts as she went passed him, that perhaps, 'maybe' he should follow her from behind. Besides what mislay did he have to gain? After she crossed his sight with faultlessness, he stood up, scurried her from behind. But on his way he saw one of his classmates forthcoming, Miranda Forbes. She was quite a loquacious person, spontaneously delightful to listen to and very humble about the pleasures of life. Anyone she knew, she'd greet with a benign smile. He could tell from a smell away, that in the remains of her eyes, she sought to converse with him, but his focus was nowhere near. But knowing he had no time to waste, he jilted from conversing and made it look as if had something distracting his focus away from something. And indeed one thing was on his mind. He peeked at Penelope, still sauntering, meet with her two friends by the cafeteria as they all queued for a little taste of the breezy ice cream at Galito's restaurant. After that, they sat by the back balcony for a few minutes enjoying, letting time crawl by as they giggled and murmured with whispers as people passed by. Milton was just an eyed-distant away, pretending to be playing pool with strangers while he sneaked a quick look at her. But not for long, she departed from her friends by the porch with hugs swung droopily, and then journeyed southward, leaving her friends behind, to go to Gate 1 of the campus. He thought to himself maybe she must be off to her room off-camp. But surprisingly, she curved to a nearby pond, just a few meters away from the gate. She sat down on the parched grass by the pond and took one subterranean glance-- with her succulent eyes glimmered at the pond for a very long time. It seemed somehow she had a connection with mother-nature. Birds would chirp around, as if they were to comprise a ceremonial celebration. They were full of life, serenity and accord, dancing their feathers artlessly. She gazed at the pond like it something to do with her past or something that he could not define. He persuaded her in a slow anticipated walk. Half-way his journey, he passed, taking his last sip of contemplation. Trying to let free his emotional passions, hoping she may not reject his sweetest offerings. He was ensnared astray in a very awkward labyrinth. He asked again, 'what wonder may this be?' But as he took a step further, there was nothing left of him to fall back on. The closer he became, his feet would tremble in fear of rejection. Then ultimately, he got closer and said, 'Hi' Oh, she greeted him so sweet that he felt like he'd known her for years. She was as calm as an apple tree at winter's dawn, a bit too diffident and quiet like the pond itself, glimmering at nightfall’s moon. Better than yet, as robustly voluptuous as an odyssey; her stunning beauty that demurred her brown-lashed eyes, unique and unanimously of paradoxes. It was the most astounding sentimental gaze Milton had ever gawked upon a being. He could swiftly abstract the reason why life held so much purpose here on this very ground of earth. He was deepening within the innermost stances, understanding why after all Shakespeare reminisced of love as a subject to an abysmal delight to death. His breath could almost asphyxiate when he made the remarkable discoveries of her kind nature. Penelope was the name she uttered. Penelope Mileiney was indeed the name; it had a heavenly pitch to it, like that of the violin buzzing his blinded ears, and then peace oozed throughout. He could not describe her physiognomy because she was fine-looking to him. When he told her of his name, she said it was a beautiful name, suitable for a gentleman as himself. Thus far, they spoke for hours and merely connected, then exchanged numbers and went separate-ways with their thoughts, dreams, imaginations and eyes stung together as one. And not to mention how completely smitten they were to each other. The feelings had they both embraced; made them cultivate a bond infatuated by peace of mind. Milton went to his flat excited of tomorrow's mysteries. Even James Madison (the flat's guard) could tell the difference. He asked, "What type of pizza have you eaten for the day my boy?" In response, he laughed and said, "Something meaty." Then Milton dozed off to my room, thinking of calling her once more, yet he did. A week later Milton and Penelope went on their first date. Oh, it was a memory to cherish as their treasury. Although it seemed Penelope had something to tell in her preoccupied eyes, Milton took little notice of the state and flew his own kite by telling her about how good he was in physics 101. He was calmed by the elegance she portrayed for the night. She never spoke much, but her divine beauty did. Then another date followed three days afterwards. But there came a time of their next date, this time by porch where Penelope used to take pews with her friends named Shaunine and Melissa. The two lovebirds spoke of how content they were with each other and keyed up about the future. But their third date never ensued. For some reason Penelope's went phone off for almost a week and a few days. Within those days, his nights were unsettling. He envisioned of a woman in a red dress trapped in a dark room. When he seized a step closer, his dream would fade-away. Milton was confused and held speechless by the dream. But he pondered miserably, what could he had said that made Penelope pay no heed to his caress this much. He was most strained by her disappearance. Another week passed, still no Penelope. Hopeless and bitten forlornly, Milton went down stairs on one morning, from third floor to the ground, to buy his weekly newspaper called the SOWETAN from a close-by cafeteria. When he had it by the palm of his hand, he read the cover page stories effortlessly. But when he fleeted a look to the second page, without anticipating what the headlines were telling, he saw a picture of Penelope. Startled, and eyes twinkling straightforwardness with wonder and fear. He sighed and murmured “Is it actually her?” The headline read, "Young Mileiney commits suicide after discovering she is diagnosed with an inoperable liver and intrahepatic bile duct cancer." He bothered not to read any-further, and at that flashing moment took a lucid gape at the picture one more time and he was convinced it was her. With guilt raging in his thoughts. “It was the dream I’ve been having all this time. Oh, I should have seen this coming.” He said inaudibly. He rushed to his room weeping like a youngster. Milton was of a phlegmatic temperament, not easy to upset, but on that day tears rolled downhill like a flooded waterfall. He took a lone lastly poignant thought gazing through the window, as memories of his lover heaped upon him. And he wondered why she didn’t say a thing to him. Lying on his bed with a pierced heart, his love definitely had bled-out. ‘Madly was his love infancy for Penelope, now destroyed.’ With a skipping rope at hand and a chair nearby, he had only one thing in mind. And after a minuscule period, his classmate Kenny knocked on his door, in request for the previous question papers of their upcoming test, but with no one to answer and the door showing there's someone inside. Out of curiosity, he pushed the door wide open. His eyes were veiled with anguish and disbelief when he saw Milton’s neck hanging from the ceiling with the newspaper on the floor. Kenny had cut him down as quickly as possible but it was too little too late. He was dead. Nevertheless, it was not Penelope he departed his existence with. He did not read the paper thoroughly, and bluntly let his twirling emotions get ahead of him before reading half the newspaper log. It was Penelope’s twin sister Prudence Mileiney who committed self-murder. Later that day, after the death of Milton, it was discovered that Penelope who had been kidnapped and held hostage for two weeks by her psychopathic uncle named Forst Mileiney, had been rescued by Turfloop's undercover agent. Forst was incarcerated and Penelope taken to a hospice. “And this was read on the third page of the newspaper by Kenny just a few minutes later after Milton’s corpse had been taken to the morgue” Two days later Penelope was enlightened of the incident. A day later in due hours of darkness, she died from heart failure. Widget is loading comments...
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