When I call you chocolate, I mean it in the most sexual way possible...

270 21 0


When I call you chocolate, I mean it in the most sexual way possible. I smiled as I read back the message the guy from the chat room, Kale had sent me two days ago. Chocolate, of all names. And chocolate of all names, I actually didn't mind.  He had given me a very narrow choice between 'princess' and 'chocolate', all because I refused to give him my real name.

For nine days he and I were just right, until reality decided to close the curtains on us. Final act complete, we'd taken our bows and we were no longer talking.

He said I was being clingy and bossy and he was a busy man and so he didn't have time for 'little girl tantrums'. Not that I was doing myself any favours but I told him to fuck himself, he replied he already does and I said he should go fuck himself harder and then I gracefully proceeded to sign off Skype and delete him out of my life.

I heard the lock at the door turning and immediately I dropped my phone to my side. My dad was home. I pretended to be watching some boring shit on TV as he walked in. If my dad really was the suspicious kind he would have wondered why I was watching TV with the volume on mute.

"Good evening, where's mummy?" I asked him as he dragged his tiresome self into the living room. 

"I dropped her off at your sister's house."

No surprise there. Sade was my very pregnant sister, in other words- mum's favourite. I was just the accident that wasn't prevented, if you know what I mean. 

His expression didn't look too pleased as he turned around to acknowledge me, "Why are you always on your phone, aren't you supposed to be studying for your exams?"

"I did, before you came back", I lied.

"We'll see when your results come just how much studying you had been doing."

Thankfully he didn't say anything more. Results day was going to be a bitch, I knew it. For now, I didn't really care.

My dad safely in the kitchen already setting out stuff to cook (he didn't play with his food), I picked my phone up once again to read through the earlier messages between Kale and I before everything went down the proverbial shit hole. Yes, I still saved our conversation, yes, he was practically a stranger off the internet but I missed him. Well his company anyways.

I know, I know it's bad but I just couldn't help it. I know I wasn't supposed to seek validation from how many times a guy messages me first and says "hey chocolate", or how many "sweet" things he says to me, but damn it, I'm depressed and it's doing me fine.

I was just in a dark mood where bunnies didn't fly and roses didn't grow out of arses- maybe thorn bushes.

Two hours later after eating one of my dad's infamous concoctions and watching my daily dose of the Big Bang Theory, I went up to my room. For about thirty seconds I watched carefully as a small spider crawled up the wall, taking off my slippers I exterminated the bitch before it got any further. That done, I decided to fill in more pointless job applications to companies that were most likely going to be too up their own assholes to give me a response "due to the volume of applications".

Why couldn't I have been born rich? I prayed the husband that God had in mind for me was like oil-money, global-corporation, big-spender, property-developer, walking-bank, CEO sort of rich. And I'd be the lovely wife, ever immaculate donning designer clothes day and night, shit, people would have to pay to just hear me breathe.

With that delusional thought, I got out my English notes and attempted study #7. I didn't know why I did this but every time I tried to study I would stare blankly at the papers before me for about ten minutes, like somehow the words would transmit into my brain and become comprehensible without any effort on my part.

I found it quite ironic that we were studying William Wordsworth's poems as our core text, when the man was mostly about showing formal education the middle finger and giving nature the upper hand. Finally giving in to learning some quotes, I turned the pages over to 'The Tables Turned', the first verse easily searing into my memory bank:

"Up! Up! My friend, and clear your looks,

Why all this toil and trouble?

Up! Up! My Friend, and quit your books,

Or surely you'll grow double."


If only it could be that easy Wills, if only it could be that easy.

Being ProfessionalRead this story for FREE!