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The Last Days Of Mashak Fashak
prologue
immerge yourself in my fiction cinema, revolving around a certain Nigerian fostered to San Francisco, his childhood stealing challenges to his diabetic mother arousing tragedy, lost and crimson red ( blood).
chapter 1
his face tints darker dropping his head down he heard her hiss and sighs, he couldn't dare raising his head after harass for stealing but she whispered to him facing the wall, he dreads hearing her voice in a nearby whisper.
" why did you do it" she asked with tears choked to her throat, her anger forms clouds. " Am sorry mom" Mashak vomited raising his head to have a glue at his face but instead he finds her shadow striding at the corridor. Mashak started stealing at the age of six(6), from Nigeria to San Francisco , he tokok his new life with his foster parents the Fashak Kaka, two years ago he was away from me, bit returns after pushing his grandpa into an aggressive flames, his father became adamant and confined Mashak to prison, observing repentance his mother quickly accepted him back as his son, Mashak began a convincing role as a friar in the Roman Catholic which made his parent to dine and settles that his change but turns out he played prank and hypocrisy as he steals in the broad day today, totally he brought their minds back to his past, he never had change.
* * *
the yellow sun pulls himself through the window, announcing it is dawn, yawning and stretching the alarm clock dispirit to the floor due to his earlier disturbance, the later sits on his bed to stare at the painted Tupac hanged on the wall, congratulating himself for a succeding and home returning robbery his mother violently opens the door, his heart drenched with fear. " Get ready for school" she added immediately to avoid his response as he found them rather disappointing, he snubs her to a little boil of her anger knowing her to grab chances to flip, he wanted to spoil the day and stay at home. " Get ready for school Mashak" repeating and feeling exhausted of his character , tapping her thumb fast on the knob it looks like she was waiting for him so he snug to his towel cursing her deep under his timeless breathe now she finds herself smiling wondering whether he changed overnight, closing the door he dash back to his pillows.
* * *
the breeze opened opportunities for the yesterday offence to dive into their minds, exhausted for his initial robbery habit he nods his head disappointing, re occuring once he abused him calling him, calling him a useless father, his love quench into tiny hatred for his son, he neglected their closeness , " we ate here dad" Mashak reminds, reaching his school gate, but then he slips the dollar note into his pocket from his suitcase, the father caught sight but shook his head refusing to have a say.
" bye dad" he was not waving but waited aside to see his reactions instead he reboot his car folding his fore head, pricked with conscience he strides away slowly, turning at a distant to wave but saw the car in a milestone, wearied over his offence, he turned backward to find his father bleeding to death, his car burning in a bustling flames. confused and never expecting. he screamed his throat to dry but it was dawn and yet profound that he lost his father at 12.
immerge yourself in my fiction cinema, revolving around a certain Nigerian fostered to San Francisco, his childhood stealing challenges to his diabetic mother arousing tragedy, lost and crimson red ( blood).
chapter 1
his face tints darker dropping his head down he heard her hiss and sighs, he couldn't dare raising his head after harass for stealing but she whispered to him facing the wall, he dreads hearing her voice in a nearby whisper.
" why did you do it" she asked with tears choked to her throat, her anger forms clouds. " Am sorry mom" Mashak vomited raising his head to have a glue at his face but instead he finds her shadow striding at the corridor. Mashak started stealing at the age of six(6), from Nigeria to San Francisco , he tokok his new life with his foster parents the Fashak Kaka, two years ago he was away from me, bit returns after pushing his grandpa into an aggressive flames, his father became adamant and confined Mashak to prison, observing repentance his mother quickly accepted him back as his son, Mashak began a convincing role as a friar in the Roman Catholic which made his parent to dine and settles that his change but turns out he played prank and hypocrisy as he steals in the broad day today, totally he brought their minds back to his past, he never had change.
* * *
the yellow sun pulls himself through the window, announcing it is dawn, yawning and stretching the alarm clock dispirit to the floor due to his earlier disturbance, the later sits on his bed to stare at the painted Tupac hanged on the wall, congratulating himself for a succeding and home returning robbery his mother violently opens the door, his heart drenched with fear. " Get ready for school" she added immediately to avoid his response as he found them rather disappointing, he snubs her to a little boil of her anger knowing her to grab chances to flip, he wanted to spoil the day and stay at home. " Get ready for school Mashak" repeating and feeling exhausted of his character , tapping her thumb fast on the knob it looks like she was waiting for him so he snug to his towel cursing her deep under his timeless breathe now she finds herself smiling wondering whether he changed overnight, closing the door he dash back to his pillows.
* * *
the breeze opened opportunities for the yesterday offence to dive into their minds, exhausted for his initial robbery habit he nods his head disappointing, re occuring once he abused him calling him, calling him a useless father, his love quench into tiny hatred for his son, he neglected their closeness , " we ate here dad" Mashak reminds, reaching his school gate, but then he slips the dollar note into his pocket from his suitcase, the father caught sight but shook his head refusing to have a say.
" bye dad" he was not waving but waited aside to see his reactions instead he reboot his car folding his fore head, pricked with conscience he strides away slowly, turning at a distant to wave but saw the car in a milestone, wearied over his offence, he turned backward to find his father bleeding to death, his car burning in a bustling flames. confused and never expecting. he screamed his throat to dry but it was dawn and yet profound that he lost his father at 12.
