Forgive me darling

This was harder than she thought. All colors had faded away till all was left was an ugly shade of grey. But it had been worth it after all. Time to build me a Lego house, that way I can tear it down if anything goes wrong, she said as she turned to look at the woman in the mirror. Big brown puppy dog eyes stared back at her as a wave of pale chestnut hair cascaded and rested smoothly over her right cheek. Instinctively, like a pawn shop owner, she peered closely as if examining a piece of jewellery then she placed a kiss on the woman’s lips, leaving a bright smudge of brilliant lavender lipstick on the mirror.

Even from her dressing room, she could hear the loud cheers emanating from the hall.

“Time to go Doris”, said her over excited manager as she peered through the silver rimmed door.

“How about we say a prayer first?” Doris said as she held her hand out to Annette her manager. “Dear God, I am not your favourite example of a Christian but I ask for your blessing as I perform tonight, AMEN!”

The crowd roared to life as Doris stepped onto the stage. The paparazzi had their moment of glitz as they took one photo after another, immensely enjoying the sight of the golden brown beauty before them. Doris loved such moments, she lived for them.  Like a panther on a parade, she struck a Naomi Campbell pose, forcing her Louis Vuitton mauve dress slide over her glorious long legs revealing a slit that went all the way to her thigh.

“Niwe wako milele......” her voice boomed over the microphone as she began singing. A loud hush fell over the crowd as it silently absorbed the sweet melody of her strong voice.

Then she froze amid the chorus. Her mouth wanted to sing but for some reason her throat had betrayed her and so had her mind. Flashes of the events of the previous night flooded her thoughts mincing the words of her hit song ‘niwe wako’. Violent scenes threatened to rob her of her sanity as they kept playing and replaying over and over again in her mind. Suddenly, she smelt blood. With her eyes, she traced the horrid smell to her hands which were slithered in blood, or so she thought.She flung and jerked her hand off roughly, violently even, as if she had been stung by a bee. BANG! Sounded the microphone as it hit the floor.

The crowd was now confused. Maybe it’s part of the show. Some of the people thought. Doris took two steps backwards tripping on her Gucci stilettos; falling square flat on her behind. That was definitely not part of the show. Annette was too awestruck to move or react. A large hiss broke out penetrating through the eerie silence like a bullet splitting a raindrop in the matrix.That was her cue, she gangly scrambled to her feet and dashed to the door wanting to escape from the melodrama which was coincidentally she was starring in. The door swung open before her shaky hand could reach the rusty doorknob.

“Miss Doris, you are hereby arrested for the murder of Paul Nkwabe your husband. You have the right to remain silent and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Forgive me darling, she whispered to herself.