Mr. Nelson Pugh suffers from crippling anxiety, which is only exacerbated when he travels. So when on his latest business trip he receives an unusual series of calls from his wife, Eleanor, his anxiety gets the best of him. At first, giving in to his own self-doubt, he attempts to cast aside his growing fears as another episode of paranoid delusion. As the calls continue, however, Nelson can no longer be sure. Is he suffering from a panic attack or is his family in terrible danger? And if the danger is real, will anyone believe him when he can barely trust himself? Hundreds of miles away and with no hope of reaching his family, Mr. Nelson Pugh must uncover the truth before the mystery reveals itself with potentially horrific consequences. *** Highest Ranking - #155 in Horror (October 19, 2017) *** *** Highest Ranking - #37 in Terror (July 17th, 2020) *** *** Overall Winner - Mysterious Marvel's "WayPaver Pick's Awards" (December 2, 2017) *** *** 2nd Place - Horror - The Sunset Awards (October 7, 2017) *** *** 2nd Place - Horror - The Unity Awards *** *** 3rd Place - Horror - The Corona Awards ***

{Featured @ Wattpad friends and family profile - Celebrating Black History Month reading list (Jan 2023), Featured @ Official Wattpad's Romance profile - new adult romance reading list (May - June 2021), Featured @ Ambassador's Africa, Featured @ writers without borders, Featured @ Wattpad's undiscovered stories (September 2021), Featured on Wattpad's Community Curator list @ Leeleekez, and also Featured on Wattpad's Community Curator List @ -jnicole_, Winner Contemporary Romantics Award @ContemporaryLit} ********** Two best friends, Kiki Rubiri and Nicole Wanjiru, know just how much blurry and mundane life could get in the streets of Nairobi. But when gusts of wind quake their pitiful selves, in form of new opportunities and of course men, Kiki and Nicole wonder why the painter suddenly decided upon subdued tints? ********** Nicole could distinctively make out the intonations of her heartbeat. It was no smooth asphalt, nor was it pleasing. It was entirely the opposite. She imagined a rugged chassis and deep-rooted crevices upon a rocky road. A dangerous road trip. She feared that her heart might give out. Her legs already were a noodly pair, holding onto her dress for support. It was clear that Nicole's mind was a soiled pool of water. It just wasn't functional anymore. Jane Austen would be disappointed, and so would her mother. Nicole was never the forward type of woman. She always thought of herself as demure as a sun's glow right before the full onset of night. Her wanton behavior today was a surprise on her side and she more than willingly blamed it on the cheery night and maybe on the way Wayne's minty breath hit her exposed clavicle like one inclement wind upon feeble branches of a tree.