Posted in TALL TALES


Wine produces mockers; alcohol leads to brawls. Those led astray by drink cannot be wise

Proverbs 20:1 New Living Translation

Self discovery Mario

Why does my head hurt so much? Why do my eyelids feel like they are made of iron? And what is this horrible taste in my mouth? I force my eyes open but can’t keep them open. I blink intermittently as I try to deal with the brightness of the room. Why is everywhere so bright? I turn on my side and end up facing the windows directly. I squint as the rays of sunlight dazzle me. I push myself up and move towards the window to drag the curtain down with a huff. My movement is a bit unsteady and I feel nauseous. I run to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach. My bathroom smells really funny. I wrinkle my nose as I splash some water on my face before making my way back to the bathroom. At the foot of my bed, my toes get entangled in something. I bend down to retrieve it – my Bible. I smoothen its rumpled pages, and lay it reverently between my pillows, but not before I catch a whiff of Bailey. I lean forward to flop into my bed. My left big toe comes in contact with something sticky. I feel my bedsheets with my palms. My bed is dry. I heave a sigh of relief as I get on all fours. My right knee feels sticky too. Underneath my bed are two empty bottles of Bailey. I walk to the other side of the bed and find one more bottle. Okay? Did I have company?

I am still trying to figure out why the floor underneath my bed is covered in Bailey and why I have three empty bottles of Bailey in my room when the door of my bedroom flies open. Enkay walks in. I am subjected to a head-to-toes scrutiny.

‘How are you feeling?’

I shrug in confusion. ‘I am not sick.’

She gives me a tired smile, before calling out. ‘Guys! She is awake.’

I gather the Bailey bottles beside my bed and sit on the edge. Abigail and Fifunmi stroll in. Nobody says anything for like five minutes. I clear my throat. ‘I am in suspense here, guys.’

Enkay asks me again. ‘How are you feeling?’ I tell her that I feel fine except that I feel unsteady at times. ‘What were you thinking?’ I shake my head in confusion. Abigail sighs loudly and joins me on the bed.

‘Two days ago, late at night, Philip called. He said he felt in his spirit that you were in danger. I said you were likely at home watching Africa Magic and drinking Bailey. He wanted to come and see you. I told him it was probably a bad idea, that I would come the next morning and let him know what’s up. The next morning, I had to rush for a meeting. So I called Enkay. Enkay couldn’t get away until late afternoon. By the time she got here, you were on you second bottle of Bailey and you answered the door stark naked.’

I gasp in disbelief. Abigail continues. ‘She tried, to no avail, to get you to go into the room so she could dress you up. By that time, she had to call for reinforcement. Fifunmi came too. They hid the remainder in the bottle beside your dresser. When you were a bit calm, they left the room to let you sleep, but you got out the third bottle of Bailey from wherever you hid it. By the time that bottle was almost empty, Philip had come to check on you.’ My worry was visible. Fifunmi laughs dryly. ‘Don’t worry. You were not naked.’ I heave a sigh of relief. ‘You were really really drunk, Mario.’ I bury my face in my palm. ‘You tried to kiss him. You practically threw yourself at him.’ My shoulders start to shake as I cry. ‘You locked the both of you in your bedroom and put the key in the shorts that Fifunmi wore for you.’

I get up from the bed. ‘Where is my phone? I need to call him. How did he leave?’ ‘He took the key when you fell asleep and let himself out. That’s what he told us.’ Fifunmi hands me my phone. She says, ‘I don’t think calling him is a good idea. He was really angry when he left.’ She opens her arms and I throw myself in it. What have I done? Enkay and Abigail join the hug. I cry a lot more, and then some more. There is a lot of ‘sorry’, ‘it wasn’t really bad’ and ‘you will be fine.’ After like 20 minutes, Enkay says, ‘we may as well just tell her.’ I stop crying immediately. ‘What?’ ‘That hard cover book on under your pillow?’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘We read it.’ ‘That’s my diary and it is a private thing. I hate all of you.’ I return into the group hug and continue crying. I will deal with that later.



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