inside the secrete

chapter one: sleepless night

Michelle's pov

The night had its own fair share of Michelle's troubled heart. Even in the dark, apart from her young innocent eyes which twinkled through the darkness that enveloped the sitting room, searching aimlessly; her heart drummed loudly in the softness of flesh that harboured it.
Her muse dragged frivolous towards nothing but wildly after her naivety. She could hear her father's, the pastor. There must have been a spiritual warfare in their dreams and it appeared her mother too was involved in it. The Windows were open and there was close ventilation, the rooms were comfortably simple. The sitting room looked austere like a monk's containing only what was needed.
"The pastor and his wife!" She thought almost aloud.
For that moment, she forgot why sleep fled from her and left forcefully awake to brood over the chances of saving hey love affair.
"Who knows what they went through to get married" she thought amusingly, not by any chance in a hurry to confront the subject that stole her sleep away like a daredevil kidnapper.
Her sister who could have been her solace was some miles way. She had to sneak out of bed to give her trouble heart a chance to ponder and dialogue. The Christan world knew no other sense of romance but the one that was true and just enough to lay bare the heart of each other. That luxury of confidence she has not enjoyed. She was a victim of the secrecy in her relationship.
  The clock ticked tirelessly and hurried after nothing but itself. To one side was her parent's snoring contest, to that other was the clock's ticking which was Even more distracting than some swashbuckling mosquitoes.
"So this small round thing is what controls the world system of work and rest, including everyone else in the world?" She mused.
"Everyone is asleep because it says so. Just like the heart, it never sleeps, it keeps working and working". She said patronisingly still embryos in admiration.
"When would you ever rest?" She questioned rhetorically. Then she remembers what happens when a person's heart stop beating.
" Both the clock and the human heart are the same, they take their stops in seconds. Something would go wrong when they go faster or slower." She analysed. Just then, she prayed that the one in her heart will never stop working. She could hear owls hooting loud, and a cat meowing ominously in the darkness that shrouded the night.
"Messenger's of the devil, my soul is not yours to torment! He that is in me is greater" she said hoarsely. The clock ticked on regardless.
"But what is wrong with Quentin? I love him so much, why is he doing this to me?" Her heart crept back to thought if him almost abruptly. She ran her fingers through her hair shakily and frowned as if he was standing right opposite her.
"He is such a gentleman but there is so much he had not told me. How can I trust someone like that?" She said trying to adjust herself in the three sweater sofa were she lazed. The night went dead again, as if silence had thrown her into a prison. No snoring, no owls hooting or cat meowing. It seemed her prayer head sealed them all. She though of nothing more but the fever inside her heart. As she pondered back and forth, somewhere along the line, she felt asleep without knowing she has and drifted into dreamland.
Even in her sleep, she looked very beautiful without make ups: hardly wears any.
  Quentin, her love, seemed to have paid the price. He sacrificed so much do her but , some secret were were lying somewhere if not buried in the dark. Michelle was already feeling despondent about her relationship with Quentin. Nothing gives a wrong signal like not talking about your immediate family, it a bad omen. It was certain, only extreme love or hatred can make you take someone's thought to bed.
  Quentin was a plucky young guy with many talents and never was he dishonest to his dealings. He has a good sense of humour, and was a manager in one of the country's leading oil firms. He had accidentally mentioned to her that his father was dead, and for his mother,his only surviving prarent; he never mention anything about her. Quentin was not a knave but he surely had something up his sleeves which he was trying hard not to divulge. Michelle smelt a rat.
" When people have amassed wealth through dubious means, they hide so many things from their loved ones" she ruminate when she woke up the next day morning.
She had discussed him with her friends and close family members whom she believed would not let the cat out of the bag. Should her parent know; she would be in soup!

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