Shancia Speaks: Short Stories Superb!

The quest for closure can sometimes come at a high price. People intentionally hurt us and act like we pulled the knife from their back. Closure sometimes looks like accepting that others do not associate themselves with accountability. Closure can look like understanding that others are more interested in their self- righteousness and false sense of grandiosity than actually building and sustaining meaningful relationships. Closure can look like accepting that some people will never admit they are wrong even if the devil held the meeting with them himself. Closure means choosing you. Choosing you and walking away from what others will never acknowledge. Why don't you acknowledge how amazing you are instead, how freely you love, how slow you judge and how automatically that light inside you shines? Why don't you focus on the glowing parts of you, feast with yourself and break good bread? People eventually tell on themselves, just give them time. Did you take accountability in s...

Geneva hastened along the fragmented, concrete path that connected her humble dwelling to the outside world. Though riddled with puddles and cracks that snapped toes, she had memorized every step. Her movements were automatic. She always found it humorous how the craters resembled her own life; the empty spaces and creases were very much like the voids she had been trying to fill ever since she was a child. Yesterday was her last "late warning," so she snapped out of it and hurriedly made her way to catch the early morning bus. On both sides, columns of dingy, rusty galvanize served as fences. "What could they even protect?" thought Geneva, and that gave her a chuckle. Her friend Sharon was already leaning over her veranda to wait for Geneva for the latest neighbourhood gossip. Lord, how could she escape her? "Not today, Sharon, girl I'll miss my bus!" hailed Geneva as politely as she could. Sharon had already given up, had accepted she would never mak...

I wanted to go where you went, but I realized that I could not. I wanted to sit in your heart and count the beats, but I felt that I would be the one bleeding instead. I desired to walk alongside you but something nudged and whispered that our journeys would not last. Yes, we were meant to walk together until some point but that was really as far as it could go. I wanted to walk with you forever but when I thought you were still holding my hand, you had eagerly let me go. My path became dim and my purpose unclear but still in the darkness, I searched for you. Your scent, however, lingered no more. I followed your trail of lies until I realized that I was becoming a lie myself, straying farther and further away from myself to keep you lifted up. Dissipated, I was now transparent. At my expense, I was your pedestal. But....my goodness, were you heavy...and while I sank, you hopped and jumped, further plundering me into oblivion. I wanted to travel the globe with you, but your world rotat...

Amelia amassed her intuition, violently shoved it into a crumbling bag and kicked it all the way to the back of the bookshelf. She then walked out of the room and disrespectfully closed the door. She entered into the world and convinced herself that she could actually survive without it. Amelia had not the faintest idea of what she was up against. Red flags became green and she just let people in as if her soul was a restaurant serving free food. She became the people's "blocko", one and all were allowed.........and they literally just sat there, with no eagerness to leave and with every desire to grab as much of her as possible, to run and feed to the vultures waiting on the outskirts. What had Amelia done? Of course, they were waiting to devour her! Feeling crippled by the lack of discernment, Amelia was simply lifted up and carried by the wind, hopelessly flying from space to place, where even though she felt no belonging, she remained. Stuck and full of regret. She ha...

Sitting at the edge of her mind's cliff, hunched- back and peering fiercely below, Sattire wonders. A sigh follows, that reverberates against the cerebellum's walls, rocks her shoulders and echos, bouncing back to jolt her upright. The wounds seeping from her eyes were waxed tears that when they fell, sliced her thighs before they ran down her knees, wrapping a tight chain of bitterness around her ankles. Chained, she could not breathe. Sattire was good at only one thing; letting the wrong people in. To dismantle her doors and shatter her windows, leaving her to get pierced by the shards of broken glass. Now bent and broken, she sits and stares, close to falling off, nothing to catch her but a bouncy castle of regret. Should she leap abound? Wires become disconnected in her brain, now sparks are flying and the only one getting electrocuted is Sattire. Convulsion! Now heave, breathing exacerbated by every memory of advantage being taken. Ruthless. Same sin as murder, Sattire, th...

The scariest concept in this world is friendship and the most expensive commodity is accountability. For too many, funds are insufficient and friendship, unfortunately, comes at a cost. Discernment, therefore is what we pray for when we have been trampled so much that we resemble pureed food, and only the love of God can mould us back to being whole. Luckily, He gives this for free. It is crucial not to use this word so loosely, for not many stand to grab this title, one that holds so much weight, the title of "friend." Friendship has become transactional and unbalanced, the expectancy that you must return the favour is a boulder upon this generation. Masks are worn by day, only to be taken off at night to reveal treacherous teeth and piercing eyes. Monitoring spirits that track you like a motion sensor are the new faces of friends. Celebrating your wins has become an intimate, private affair, a deliberate attempt to obscure, for the eyes of the enemy are sown in the faces of...

There was a time when the usual morning text would make Jennifer flutter, giddy as an idiot, with hopes springing higher than the tides, she liquefied. A fool loyal to a taken man, what joy was there in that? Prancing around like she was doing the world a favour, Jennifer went deep undercover. Blindfolded by lust, and chained by the Eastern Caribbean dollar, she forgot who she was and fell prey to the monster. Materialism shadowed her and plunged her underwater, as he kept his foot on the lump of her throat, there was no coming back for air, respiratory system held captive, he knew where to keep her. Submerged. An avid sinner, crooked and adorned, with a taunting spirit of restless nights and the nervousness of an uncharged phone, he was always about to call. Loving a man at night was the champion of causes and won her gold medals but when the sun came out, Jennifer was last place. She could not be seen, not even in his penumbra. A life fitting, only for a bat. Then, one day, the heart...