The Eden Project

By A.T. Nartey

Friendship or love. Only one will survive.

Looking for a captivating and thought-provoking read? Look no further than "The Eden Project" by A.T. Nartey.

The Eden Project is a sci-fi dystopian based on best friends Brianna and Aniya. When Aniya mysteriously goes missing and the police show little interest in he

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.T. Nartey
• Release date: Mar 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781838363710

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

If there is one thing in the whole wide world that Aniya wants most, it’s a boyfriend. And Jamal Priestley is just her type. If I had a dollar for every time she’s brought him up, I’d be a billionaire by now. I’ve heard her go on about him for hours on end, worrying if he likes her or not—if he even knows that she exists. That’s why when I spot him walking down the hall, I alert her and watch her eyes grow wide at the mention of his name. 

She has make-up on today, not that she needs it. She is contoured by the Gods, and she is wearing her tight-fitted jeans, the pair that accentuate her posterior. Her tank top reveals her petite frame and places her bosoms on show. We are almost wearing the same outfit; however, I'm not willing to show my belly—I blame it on Marvin. People think we dress alike to play up the twins jokes we often receive, because despite our varying skin tones we, like old couples, have grown to look alike. Also, our birthdays are only two days apart—August 20th and 22nd. Besides, our parents have known each other since before we were born. I watch as she reaches into her back pocket to retrieve the letter we penned last night in her bedroom. Somehow I have convinced her to hand it over to him and confess her feelings.

She looks at me for support now. Her dark almond eyes framed by thick false lashes bore into mine. I try to send her positive vibes. She reaches out and grabs my hand. She smells like vanilla. I take in the sweet scent. I squeeze her hand tightly and smile.

Gurl, you got this! I say and conveniently shove her in front of his path. I see him stop and look down at her. Aniya is tall at five-seven, but Jamal is taller at six-four. His eyes trail up from her heeled boots to her tight-fitted jeans, over her bosoms, and land on her face.

Excuse me, you’re in my way, he says, amused.

She says something to him, but I can’t hear her, and judging by his facial expression, he can’t either.

I wrote this for you, she finally chokes out.

A shaking hand hands him the letter. I am praying now, praying that he accepts her note.

He takes the paper, looks at her, and unfolds it.

The hall is normally the busiest part of the school; students are loitering around their lockers and chatting. Even so, the stillness that now permeates the walls tells me everyone has fallen silent to listen.

I watch his eyes roam across the page, and then finally, a smirk escapes his mouth. He folds up the paper, takes her hand, and places it back inside her grasp.

Sorry to disappoint you, Aniya, but I don’t date darkies. He looks over at me and our eyes meet. I’m trapped by his handsome gaze. Then he says, Though your friend… Brianna, she can get it.

He knows my name! Has he been watching me?

Aniya’s shattered face turns to look at me. I don’t know how to react to this so I just shrug an apology. My heart sinks for Aniya and now I wish I could punch Jamal in the face, yet still I’m mesmerized. He sidesteps her and carries on walking down the hall.

YOU ARE A DARKIE TOO, YOU IDIOT! I shout after him.

Bee! Aniya cries, trying to hold me back. Everyone in the hall is looking at us now, and there are a few whispers.

Can we leave now? she says over all the murmuring and smirks. Her voice is so void, it's as if the life has been sucked out of her. I throw my arm over her shoulders as we walk to class.

A girl standing by her locker smirks at us and I throw a fist up in her face, daring her to say one word. The smile drops and she backs up against the locker.

Good! Let anyone say a thing and I swear I’m going off on them, right here, right now.

CHAPTER 2

I can’t tell if Aniya is heartbroken or not. She’s not speaking much and seems to have withdrawn inside. These are the things I wish I could spare her from. Just the other day, some dickheads from the first year did a TikTok on us as we walked across campus. They were playing Smash, Marry, Kill on all the female by-passers. As soon as I clocked this, I immediately diverted our path, but Aniya wanted to keep on walking. She wasn’t bothered by it I guess. Yet as we drew closer, one of the guys ranked me as smash, a white girl who also walked past as marry, and Aniya as kill.

Fuck you, guys! No one wants your raggedy asses, anyway. Y’all ugly! I shouted, sticking up my middle finger at them.

They burst out laughing and I know the camera caught my reaction. I wonder if they posted it. Anyway, I was about to go over there and snatch their phone and dash it on the ground when Aniya grabbed my hand.

Don’t worry about it, Bee. I don’t want them, anyway.

I’m sure it hurt her and she would have benefited from kicking one of them in the nuts like I had planned. But she had ended her violent streak years ago when it would seem she was the only one to get in trouble for starting fights. Oddly, I got off scot-free. And I think Aniya got tired of being labeled as the aggressive girl. Which I can’t understand. The only difference between us is the fact that I’m lighter complected like my mother. And Aniya wears her natural hair in a puff. We used to fit the same clothes, but I’ve put on a few pounds since I started dating Marvin. The mere thought of him makes me want to hit something. Aniya did not mention the event after that, which in a way hurts, because I could tell she was hiding her emotions from me. Surely, she knows that I’ve got her back. I will destroy anyone who makes her feel less than beautiful. This is the reason I insisted on taking over our YouTube channel, Boogie gurls, where we post make-up tutorials and fashion videos once a fortnight. I wanted to censor the comments, so only those that praised us were on show. I deleted all the ones that threw shade on Aniya and her quieter disposition, or on me being ratchet, or on her not being as cute. I had to be sneaky and do it before Aniya got the chance to read through them. She seemed pretty happy, so I guess I fooled her.

But that day after those boys insulted her, she turned around and asked me, Bee, you’re my friend, right?

This time I wasn’t quick enough to hide my surprise. Gurl, you know I am. What’s up?

Aniya lowered her gaze. You’d tell me if I was ugly, right?

Gurl, you need to stop with that. You ain’t ugly but this world is, I’m afraid. Any guy would be lucky to date you. I guess she agreed because an assured smile broke over her face and she squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers back. Don’t worry, we’re going to find you a fine man who knows how to treat a woman. Because she had experienced way too many colorist dumbasses in the past. I sometimes miss the wild Aniya who would cuss you out in no time and top it with a beating, which would leave you bruised and battered for days to teach you a lesson.

We walk home in silence. The road where she lives is only a few blocks from mine.

Do you want me to stay over tonight? I ask.

She drops her head and shakes it. Nah, I know you’ve got a date with Marvin. You go be with him. I think I want to be alone tonight anyway, she replies.

Oh, yeah. Dang, I forgot I had a date tonight.

Okay, but call me if you want someone to talk to. 

Yeah, sure. She starts walking then turns to me again. I think I’m no longer into black guys, she says then turns and walks into her house before I’ve thought of a response.

I could have persuaded her not to let a few rotten apples put her off, but I didn’t. Instead, I turn around and dash home.

CHAPTER 3

I get in and fling my bag on the floor. Then tumble up the stairs.

DANG YOU, BEE! COME BACK AND PICK YOUR BAG OFF THE FLOOR! my dad shouts up after me.

I ignore him. This won’t take long. Another part of me hesitates. What if he goes back to his old ways? Instantly, I remember the times he used to beat me when I didn’t listen to him. I quickly push back the memories. He wouldn’t dare do that now that I’m older and, besides, I’ll just go back to my old tactic of running away to Aniya’s house and staying there till my mum convinces him to apologize and come and get me. I often think of my mum. He shows her about as much love as he does me. Why does she stay with him? Then a reminder comes when my door opens and Isaiah, one of the twins, waddles into my room.

Ba! he cries with excitement.

He still hasn’t learned how to pronounce my name—it's so annoying. I march over and grab his pudgy little hand and lead him out of my room into the corridor.

What did I tell you about coming into my room? Go downstairs, I warn him.

I know he’s only a toddler but I like my privacy; I don’t care how old you are. As soon as I let go of his hand, he immediately starts walking back toward me. I ain’t got time for this; Marvin will be here any minute. I dash into my room and lock the door behind me. I can’t let Marvin see me like this. I want him to think of me as his sexy girlfriend, not like a lazy bum that turns up anyhow. I figure if I portray myself that way, high-maintenance, he’d show me some respect and not go looking for his frills anywhere else. Isaiah is crying now behind my locked door, but I don’t care. I pull off my top, throw on a V-neck white vest top, and pull on my heeled boots. I refresh my make-up in the mirror and am reminded of Aniya by pictures of the two of us posted around the mirror frame. She looks happy in them and there I am looking like a screw face. I can’t help it. People tell me I have a resting bitch face… I used to care. The crying hasn’t stopped outside my door. But now there is stomping up the stairs and I hear my dad coo to Isaiah. The crying stops, but the shouting begins.

How evil are you to let your little brother sit out here crying? Don’t you care about him and your little sister?

I’m busy! Leave me alone! I shout but really I want to say you didn’t care about me.

You’re lucky you ain’t little no more. You undeserving brat.

I’m finished applying my lip gloss. I get up and walk to the door. I open it and my father’s still there with Isaiah in his hands.

Where are you going? he demands.

Out, I say.

You going to meet that dead-beat boyfriend of yours?

Still better than you, I reply.

That also seems to hit my father's nerve because he raises a hand at me. I stare at him with a look of contempt, but I don’t flinch. He sees the resolve in my eyes and curls back his lip in disgust.

You are just like your mother, he spits and then walks off down the stairs.

I hear a car beep outside, but I give it a few minutes before I follow him. I pay extra attention not to step on the same spots his feet had touched. It might seem extra, but that’s how much I hate that man.

I kick my bag out of the way, not for his sake, but for my mother’s who’ll be home soon from work. I would hate to think of her tripping over it. Then I leave the house.

Parked outside is Marvin’s silver 2002 Honda Civic. I walk up to the car with my best strut, then bend down to check it’s him in the car. Living here on the shadier side of town, you have no choice but to do this. There have been countless abductions of young girls and women for as long as I can remember around here. It’s scary—females are literally being picked off the street, bundled away, and never seen again. What’s even scarier is that they’re not reporting about it adequately on the news or properly investigating the disappearances. I’ve heard all kinds of theories about what’s happening to these girls and women. Personally, I suspect there is a serial killer on the loose—possibly many, all working together. Let anyone try to kidnap me though, they will regret the day they ever lived. Fortunately, I have a big, strong, burly boyfriend to protect me when I go out at night. We often go to either a club, house party, or Chuck E. Cheese, but today he has a surprise for me. I don’t know why though because it’s not like it's my birthday or our anniversary. I see his face, his deep-set dark eyes and full lips. I see his wide nose and dreaded hair. I remember the moment I set eyes on him. Aniya and I were at Latisha’s house party and everyone was being lame and not dancing. He walked in the room and our eyes met. When the music turned up and everybody started dancing, he came over and stood behind me to watch me dance. I must have shown him what he wanted because as we were leaving he came over and introduced himself. His name was Marvin, he was nineteen. I was sixteen at the time, and we hit it off from there. It has been around a year since then, yet I don’t think I love him. I tolerate him while waiting for a better prospect to come along. Though he is gentle on the eyes.

Hey, boo! I say, climbing into the car. Did you miss me?

He smiles and I feel exhilarated. You know it, baby.

I get into the passenger seat and we both lean in for a kiss. Then I’m reminded what puts me off about him. His lips are big, a trait I like about him, but his kisses are sloppy. There is no technique, and I feel like I’m being bludgeoned by a seal. I draw away first.

So, what is this surprise you have for me? I inquire, knowing how little he makes from working in Chuck E. Cheese.

He smiles and winks his eye. Wait and see.

This better be good, I say, strapping myself into the seat. He revs up the engine and takes off. We drive for half an hour, in which time we chat about our day and rap to rap music. He’s a big fan of 2Pac, I now know all his lyrics. Then he pulls off the road into a dark, almost empty parking lot and parks the car in the middle. I’m peering out the car to see what’s out there. This is a really secluded place. I hope our destination isn’t too far away because I can’t walk for long in these heels.

I give up looking and turn to him. Is there like a private restaurant hidden behind those shrubs?

He has a smile plastered on his face, but he shakes his head. 

I grow excited. Oh! I know! Is there like a funfair in a park behind here?

He’s still smiling. Nope!

Then where are we going? I give up, tell me.

He raises both hands and says. This is where I wanted to take you.

Huh?! I’m confused for a moment. What about this place is so special?

Then he does something that sets my blood on fire. He reaches beside him and pulls the lever to the seat and the driver's seat leans back, all the way back, till it looks like a bed. Then I clock.

You fucking dumbass! You brought me all the way out to nowhere just so you could fuck?

The smile is still there.

I thought you’d be happy. We barely get to spend time together. You always hanging out with yo gurl, Aniya.

So, you think you’d steal me away to some secluded car park to take advantage?

Finally, his smile drops. Babe, you know it ain’t like that. You need to understand. I’m a man. I got needs. Plus, who could go more than a week without sex when they’ve got a girlfriend as beautiful as you?

I want to be mad—hell, how I want to be mad—but this is not the first time I’ve heard something like this. Something like all men have needs, women are there to satiate them, and if a woman doesn’t, he will leave her and find another woman who will. I think of Aniya again. We were five when we both realized why her mum was always shouting and screaming at her dad, often throwing him out in intervals. He would see other women behind her back. He would always tell us he was going to work, but in actuality, he was sleeping around. One day, Aniya’s mum was so mad that she showed us pictures of him and another woman in bed. It only showed them from the head down to the waist but both subjects were naked. You could see the woman’s perky breast exposed; she was light-skinned with silky hair so her nipples stood out prominently. I was only five then, but I remember the look of hurt and rage on Mrs. Robertson’s face, the smell of cinnamon buns in the oven, and the look of Aniya’s father, inebriated and flaunting his latest play