Quadruplets' Circus

By Kent James Migwi

When blood suddenly mixed with water at the infinity pool, they came to realize that they weren't living a Happy Halloween's tale, but an unfortunate dark reality tale had definitely been living with them!

"Not every day is fucking Halloween!"
- Kent Meezy -

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kent James Migwi
• Release date: Dec 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463189030

Kent James Migwi

Born and raised in the quiet town of Murang'a, (formerly Townhall Town), Murang'a County, Kenya.A light in-present-scenario author and a firm believer of 'The Paranormal World' existence, but much avoids to let it out much openly sometimes since, "some people will never believe me anyway," his often views. "They'll think am unreasonably insane."Loves cities much, with Illinois' Chicago City being his most favorite of all world's cities.

Book preview

QUADRUPLETS’ CIRCUS

Kent James Migwi .R.

SMASHWORDS inc.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and beyond the intends of the author or the publisher.

First publication: Dec 2021

Second edition: Dec 2022

Copyright ©2021 by Kent James Migwi .R.

All Rights Reserved.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form without prior permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 97-8046-3189-030

License Note

Smashwords Edition.

In loving memory and honor of the Late Ed Warren & Lorraine Warren

SYNOPSIS

For 7 months, we’ve waited for your arrival, your company, your presence, and your alone-time, … always wishing that you would come soonest. … You shouldn’t have come here! … But as long as you’re all here, we’ll definitely going to have some sliiiight ‘nuf’ together.

The quadruplets

(Amanda, Katrina, Tasmanic & Cappar)

You have packed well all your stuff Cheyenne? We’re about to leave.

Yes maami, everything is perfectly packed.

Yeah mum, we can go now.

Tenns. I haven’t asked you yet, have only asked Cheyenne. … Wait for your turn, alright?

Alright mum. I’m sorry. Tennessee prodded softly, embarrassment taking a stroll on his amble face.

Okay then, now tell me. Have you packed well all your personal belongings too?

Yes mum. I have.

And one more thing. Don’t you dare forget to carry your art works with you, and I mean all of them.

Of course I know, there’s no fuckin way I can forget them. They are my treasure.

Owwkaay. … Definitely you can’t. Mrs. Tranny shrugged, feeling much put off.

Suddenly, Cheyenne interjected the conversation with her inquisitive underlined curiosity. Maami. Why ain’t Karrueche with us at the porch?

Well, she’s still in her room finalizing with her packing. But I wonder too why she has taken soo long. Can you go and check what she’s doing, kindly?

Alright maami. … At your service.

Mamaa smiled in pride then side-peeped at Tennessee upon her daughter’s swift disappearance amongst the vicinities of the staircase. Now that’s my little angel.

So what?! Tennessee answered back unevenly and began to lock his suitcase.

Exxcuuuuse me?! … What did you say?!!

Before things could get rather tsunamic between mother and son, little Cheyenne’s voice echoed from upstairs. Maaami.

Yeees angel?

Karrueche ain’t doing any packing.

Why? … What is she doing?

She’s on her phone texting Reezy B now as we speak.

Mrs. Tranny’s fury upgraded suddenly. WHAT?! Tell her to get down here this instance before I get up there!!

Ha-ha. Karrueche was lucky to hear her mother’s voice. Mum’s damn too old to climb the stairs fast to catch me on the phone. She lowly smiled at Cheyenne.

6 seconds later, Cheyenne echoed back again. Maami, guess what she has just told me.

What has she said??

That you are too old to climb the-.

Quickly, Karrueche held Cheyenne’s quick mouth. Shut the hell up. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Mmmh … mmmh … mmmh. Cheyenne’s words tried to emanate from the locked intensity as she tried to free herself at the same time.

Fortunate enough, ‘dragon luck’ was on the little one and Mrs. Tranny soon arrived in the room. You’re limiting her flow of oxygen, legoff her!

Ooh. Hi mum, Karrueche’s quite much agaped state didn’t know how well to comprehend mamaa’s presence. How’re you? She enquired with a smile as she quickly freed Cheyenne and reached for her few remaining scattered clothes on the bed. I’m almost done packing.

Don’t mum me! We’re about to leave right now but you are busy here gadamn texting. Hadn’t I grounded you a month ago from jazzing once again with your so-called-boyfriend?!

Yes maa, she replied in frigid embarrassment. You did.

Then? … What’s the problem with you??

Muuum, I was just saying goodbye to him. No big deal.

All over sudden, cheeky Cheyenne intruded. Maami.

Yes my angel?

Can I tell you something?

Owkay, go ahead. Tell me. Mrs. Tranny gave her chance with curiousness.

Yesterday, Karrueche came so late at night, and over my bedroom window I saw them together holding-.

Cheyenne?! Karrueche swiftly interjected. Shut up!

Why are you restricting her? Let her speak out. Mamaa intervened and sat on the bed. Go on angel, tell me more. I’m all ears.

I went downstairs to open for her after they were done cuddling. She was much shocked to see me as she entered the house. … Maami, I highly do suspect that since they’ve had some differences of-late, they did spend the whole of last evening making out at his home.

CHEYENNE??! Karrueche Canne’s sudden interjection came with extreme undeniable embarrassment. She felt quite deeply pissed off by her sister and grazed at Mrs. Tranny, her eyes trying hard enough like a witch to fight off the spelled guilt. Maa, don’t listen to her, she’s totally fucked up. I didn’t make out with Reezy B! … I’m now getting uncomfortable with you two being in my room. Please leave and I’ll catch up with you all at the lounge after I’m done packing.

You know what my little angel, mamaa afforded to smile in the midst of her ranging fury as she stood up from the bed. I do highly suspect too that they certainly did make out. She then walked towards Karrueche on the edge of the bed and prodded a non-heartening whisper on her left ear. It ain’t my Cheyenne who’s totally fucked up, you’re the one who’s totally fucked up. She afterwards proceeded to leave the room. Hurry up!! We are giving you only 5 minutes to finish on with your packing! She exclaimed and slammed hard the door behind her.

Upon Mrs. Tranny’s absence, Karrueche walked towards the little one and whispered with much agitation revolving in her beautiful mind. I’m going to kill you!!

You should have done that by now if you got the guts, you fuckin damn-ass bitch! Cheyenne said in boldness and slowly headed for the door, opened it and slammed it with the same exact umpteen energy like her mother’s as she walked on past it, leaving Ms. Karrueche in jeered despair.

Meanwhile, during the precise time the three were in Karrueche’s room, Tennessee was having a conversation downstairs with their father.

"What’s taking them so long? Mr. Roosevelt asked, looking at his golden Rolex watch. We should be leaving by now."

"Honestly, I don’t know dad. … I wonder what’s going on with them up there."

"Ladies’ issues are quite awkward to understand." He expressed, glancing back at him.

"Sure. That’s true." Tennessee said with a smile.

"Oh, and just before I forget. … Have you bid all your buddies goodbye? To be particular. Your best buddy?"

"Yeah, I told them all goodbye, apart from Jefferson."

"And who is Jefferson? Have never heard you mention him before."

"He’s my former best nigga."

"Former? … What do you mean by former? Mr. Roosevelt enquired in bland agape. And why haven’t you not yet said goodbye to him, if I may ask?"

"I would have loved to, but that junk mathafucker snatched away my long-term girlfriend."

"Really? That’s the reason why he is now ‘former’?"

"Yap. … That is the main reason why."

"Okay son. But I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t have missed to bid him goodbye. You still haven’t seen these bitches’ worst side yet. Some chicks be for everybody."

"Wait. Hold on dad. Tennessee smiled again, this time round, awesomely trying to loosen off his long soul-break emotions in many months. I ain’t a much fan of that great album."

"What are you talking about? And what album??"

"I can tell where you are relating to."

"Where?"

"The walk of the moon with a red bleeding heart. I know you’ve undergone that walk probably for more than five times. … But for me, it’s just only for the first time."

Immediately, Mr. Roosevelt recalled the famous album by Chris Brown with heavy nostalgia and now fully related to what his son was awesomely reigning in. Feeling a bit remorse, he grinned. I guess we should be leaving now.

"Yeah, definitely we should. Tennessee teased him and began to pull his suitcase. He then calmly walked towards the staircase. Mum, Karrueche and Cheyenne, meet us at the fuckin car."

But in synchronicity, upon him alerting them, Mrs. Tranny arrived at the porch, followed closely by Cheyenne Cincinatti.

Don’t think I’ve forgotten Tenns, mamaa looked at him with firm furious eyeballs. I ain’t done with you yet!

Holy shit. Regretful Tennessee lamented in his mild heart as he suddenly remembered the heated confrontation that was about to happen some few moments ago.

Cheyenne then tiptoed towards him with a pretty smile and opened her little palm. Tenny? Could I borrow your phone?

35 minutes later, the family was in their executive luxurious red-grey-coated Lincoln car, heading to the vast Milwaukee Mitchell International airport.

UTAAAAAH. … HERE WE COOOOME! Joyous Cheyenne yelped with happy pride.

Shut the fuck up! Karrueche tried to silence her with extreme pissed-off-emotions circumnavigating like a cyclone in her soul. Gadamn it bitch!!

I won’t. What you gonna do to me? … Kill me? … If you wonna kill me, just like you told me in your bedroom, kill me now then. Go on, am waiting.

Who’s killing who?? Mr. Roosevelt asked as he suddenly halted the car and glanced at the both of them in the back seat.

No one dad. Karrueche’s defense came quick, but she still managed to graze furiously at Cheyenne.

Do you want me to leave you two here in Wisconsin?

No daddy. Please don’t. Cheyenne was shocked by the sudden statement and she pleaded at their father with her cutely-sealed girly eyes.

Let’s go dad. Karrueche seconded her little sister’s plea in intense shock too.

It’s the high time Karrueche you better learn to embrace your sister.

Yeeeaah daddy. Thank you. Cheyenne smiled as she looked at Karrueche with a mimic gesture. Thanks once again daddy, she should indeed learn to embrace me.

Anytime my little girl. Mr. Roosevelt winked at Cheyenne then glanced back at the front and resumed on with his dexterity driving.

Karrueche entirely lost words to say and she only managed to stay mute all throughout the journey. Waves of happy talks from the rest of the family members hit her ears with much precinct in her heart, blocking her personal esteem from all angles like an aggressive hurricane attack in Barbados Island. She was lost in her own world of coercive thoughts, with only a trench of Rihanna’s musical soothing emanating from her cool playlist.

PROLOGUE

As nature coincidence would have it, relocating from one state to another is an occasional life’s cycle, particularly for most high end families. But for some however, negative phenomenon unfortunately becomes a ‘misfortuned’ tale in their newly found homes. A tale only a few have been able to tell back with ease. This wasn’t exemptional for a certain Black-American family residing in the great United States. Relocating from Milwaukee City, Wisconsin, to Salt Lake City, Utah, they thought would be a perfect way to commence off their summer-break holiday.

~ •-• ~ The willing relinquishment of 1,448 miles was potentially welcoming, and the airbus 7-8-7 had a unique way of defending itself from the lash ravage of the cloggy gravity with intense enthusiasm. It held to it, fought it, and was able to meet it midway. Though for Cheyenne Cincinatti, it was quite different, different in relentless pyrex. All she wanted was to arrive in Utah much earlier than everybody else on the plane. The beautiful thoughts of her rounding beneath the deep-stretched canyons of Zion National Park were violently racing in her young mind like a controversial speedy Miami Grand Prix.

By 1:01pm noon time, as the American Dreamliner was touching down in SLC International Airport, a mixture of heavy confusion had begun to pile up in some of the flight passengers.

It’s raining on June in Salt Lake City? A voice lamented at the east-wing of Cheyenne. How is it even possible in summer?

Cheyenne glanced to the side and saw an old Muslim man dressed in pure Islamic attire - a lengthy white cloth making itself visible on him with humble respect to his call of human origin. Heeey there Mr. She greeted with a soft tone and smiled. Don’t you love rain?

"Aselaam Aleikum little girl? The man smiled back. What’s your name?"

I’m Cheyenne, she said. "Waleeikum Aselaam. … And who could you be?"

Ibrahim Swaleh.

From the Middle-East, right? You resemble much of an Arab. Cheyenne smiled again.

I’m more of a Muslim, the man found himself smiling once more. And an Australian to be precise.

Adjacent to the little one, Mrs. Tranny felt insecure, her excess voluminous concern chipping-in with solicitude. Angel?? She tapped her gently on the left shoulder. What did I warn about talking with strangers?

I’m sorry maami. I much got carried away by the wonder of him not loving rain. Cheyenne whispered as she grazed back at her.

Strangers can sometimes be, you know, strange damn crappers. Mamaa whispered back and grinned.

Maami. ... Don’t call him a crapper. The little angel was in deep shock.

I didn’t intend to phrase it as that my angel, but you don’t know him.

And you don’t know him either. She politely defended the old man.

Suddenly, a female notification was heard stretching across the entire airbus. Alright ladies and gentlemen, we’ve come to the end of our long flight. It was a pleasure having you all on board the great United Airlines. Welcome to Utah.

Tennessee woke up abruptly in the midst of the announcement, his face heavily conjured with sleep. He peeped to the outside and spotted the iconic Denver Nuggets NBA team departing from the vast airport in loftiness inside their glamourous pristine coach. Leaning his head back, he glanced at his sister. Is this the 3rd layover? An enquiry pursued. We are in Colorado already?

No, asshole, Karrueche unmuted her silence of 72 hours. Haven’t you heard the airhostess??

Just tell me where the fuck are we siz, I was deeply asleep. How on earth could I have heard her?

Was I who told you to sleep like a retched-ass douchebag?

Mannerless bitch! he raised an eyebrow. You gonna let me know or what?!

We ain’t in Colorado son, Mr. Roosevelt gave an aid as he stood up from his seat. We’ve safely arrived in Utah.

Mrs. Ashanti Tranny followed suit in standing up, trailed closely by her little angel, Karrueche and Tennessee Miguel. Their steps carefully made way to the exit until they were all off the plane.

Daddy, Cheyenne held her father’s right wrist. Will you gonna take us to Zion National Park before summer ends?

Yes my little princess. Mr. Roosevelt assured with a broad grin. I’ll take you all next weekend. But first, let’s get to know better J-Hud Street.

Is that the estate we’re going to? Mrs. Ashanti asked as she looked at her husband in agape.

Yap. That will be our new neighborhood.

Wait. You had said Elyse Estate. Now it’s has suddenly shifted to J-Hud?... Is there something I ain’t understanding here??

Oh, I’m so sorry love, he uttered tenderly. I meant to say J-Hud Street in Elyse Estate.

Alright babe. She smiled. I thought you had now begun to hide things from me.

You well know I can’t my Ashanti.

Please, don’t begin soon.

I promise you I won’t. He assured and pecked her on the right cheek.

Hey, daddy. Cheyenne chuckled. What about me?

What about you what?

A peck too, if you don’t mind.

Okay dear, there you go. Mr. Roosevelt smiled, implanting a hearty peck on the little ones’ left cheek.

30 yards behind, while the rain was subsidizing with soothing ease, a yellow taxi pulled-in into the extensive driveway and halted besides them. It seemed quite brand new with no hitch of vintage look on its surfaces. The spokes were almost spotless, but the yellowish glamour of its body-paint made it stand out in appeal more than any other automobile of its kind.

Where to guys? The driver hooted.

J-Hud Street in Elyse Estate. Mr. Roosevelt waved.

Alright. Hope in, I’ll be glad to take you all. The driver said welcomingly as he opened the doors for them.

You can have these. Keep change.

Thanks. May the same God of Moses, Enoch, and Elijah, who’s still present amongst us all till today, bless you and your family abundantly.

Thank you. May the same be for yours too. Mr. Roosevelt appreciated with composure upon laying all their suitcases in the boot.

As they entered, little Cheyenne suddenly thought of the old man back at the plane. ("- I never got to ask him what Ahaham Wasaaham means, -) she bewailed in her heart. (- If only there was ample time, I would have asked him some of the native Swahili words that I got no any clue of. … Who was he? Who could have been his blessed family? … And why didn’t he like rain on a sunny day?? -")

Halfway through the journey, a humble conversation struck between the two gentlemen.

You know what they say about Elyse Estate? The driver coughed.

Nope, I don’t. What do they say? Mr. Roosevelt asked.

They often say that the small estate is so much famous, that even the most famous people in the U.S find it un-famous not to be famed alongside with it. It’s the Beverly Hills of Utah State.

Oh, really? Mr. Roosevelt grinned. That’s much cool of it. I wouldn’t have known if I were to be asked.

You mean you’ve never heard of that?

We ain’t originally from Utah. That’s quite new to us.

Where are you guys from? He enquired with a kind note.

Wisconsin.

Wow, Wisconsin? … The home to Milwaukee Bucks?

Yeah.

I do adore that team. It’s my 5th favorite team after Utah Jazz, Miami Heat, Denver Nuggets and Philadelphia 76ers.

Quite awesome of you to appreciate your home-team first.

North and south, east and west, home will always remain precise best. The driver afforded a smile.

I thought you might be a huge fan of Boston Celtics, Atlanta Hawks, Chicago Bulls, or even the Los Angeles Lakers, but you ain’t. … How comes?

Well, I don’t like the much fame that comes with those three most famous teams.

Why?

Everyone expects greatness in every way from them but they sometimes do greatly disappoint at some instances.

Okay.

And furthermore, I like those teams that are, you know, great too but do tend to ‘play on the background’. … It ain’t nothing personal though, don’t get me wrong.

It’s alright. I understand. Mr. Roosevelt grinned more.

Thank you.

Dad. Tennessee suddenly interrupted. I’ve occasionally heard of what he has just said about Elyse Estate a couple of times.

You have? The driver was in positive surprise.

Yeah, I have. It’s even documented at wholesome in one of the Travel Guide journals.

Stop lying Tenny. Little Cheyenne interjected. Where and when did you hear that?

Sometimes back last year.

I don’t believe you. Which journal did you read from?

Apparently, I can’t recall its name, but I once read of the same. That’s for a fact.

You claim you have heard and you even can’t recall where exactly you read from. Don’t be a dummy Tenny.

Shut up Cheyenne! Karrueche suddenly prodded. Why do you always have to steal the show all the time??

Cheyenne gave her an uneven gaze. Karrueche, I ain’t talking with you! Mind your own gadamn fuckin business!

Mrs. Tranny all over sudden silenced the three of them at the back seat with powerful pinches on their arms. She felt quite embarrassed, though on the other hand, she was much proud of her little angel. Mr. Roosevelt Tranny however was fully agitated by the sudden twist of turns but he held it onto himself with outmost gentle calmness.

Am sorry about that. He said to the taxi driver with gentleness and manly-winked at him.

It’s okay Sir, It’s understandable. The driver’s reply came with a regretful guilt within it. But at least, he was a bit glad that Tennessee had seconded his punchline for the estate in some approval, if what he just certified was true without lies of any code. By the ways. We’re now almost there as per the reference in my vehicle’s GPRS.

How far along are we? Mr. Roosevelt enquired.

Almost remaining 2.8 kilometers before we reach Elyse.

Alright. Thank you.

You’re most welcome.

13 minutes were kind enough to compliment well the 2.8-kilometer-drive, and soon enough the Volvo sedan was cruising round the vicinities of J-Hud Street. The neighborhood was reluctant of any negative mischief from amongst its dwellers as executively-designed mansions and ‘high’ bungalows harmonized the cool atmospheric livelihood of the estate in perfect pleasure. Within, prime walls escaladed upright, sixteen roads met neatly, twenty-one gates stood firm, nineteen gorgeous lawns whispered appealingly, and the silence was sensibly sharp. Richdom laid stunt along the pavements and junctions of Elyse Estate. And everyone who lived there, lived with class.

Babe. … Is that the house? Mrs. Tranny asked.

I guess it is. Mr. Roosevelt said with a happy tone. Yes, it is. He smiled.

We almost could have missed it as we were adoring this estate.

No wonder I got you for a wife my Ashanti. He glanced back and pecked her left palm. To be there for me when I’m lost in the jungles of Amazonia and Costa Rica.

Aaaawwwwww, she couldn’t miss to blush. Thanks honey.

It’s my pleasure love. Thank you too.

Anytime for you my love. Her gladdened appreciation filled the Volvo with intensity.

Tennessee Miguel’s mind was swift to gather throwbacks of 2 years ago. He all-suddenly remembered Adelynah Winters as his flashbacks recalled with rash remembrance the very last words she said to him. Though weren’t it not for the goony unrealistic Jefferson Spence, they would have been together till to this very moment, sailing away in the deep blue sea of love, locked in tight inside their own wonderful yacht of romance. That hard nostalgia was most aggressive that he did not even realize they were already inside their new lavish mansion.

TENNY!! Cheyenne exclaimed with harshness. And in perfected measure, her voice was able to bring him back to 2020. Maami is telling you not to drag your fuckin suitcase. … Don’t you have hands to lift it up?!

Where is my room? He asked.

How the fuck would I know? Do I seem like an architectural map to you? I’ve just landed right now at this house as you have, shithead.

Follow me bro. Karrueche chipped in, gently holding his right arm. Let’s explore the mansion.

Mrs. Ashanti Tranny corresponded to Karrueche’s notch and she held her husband’s right arm. Babe, let’s explore the house too.

But love. Not without them? He was swift to wonder.

They’re big now, she smiled. They can explore it by themselves.

What if the home is big for them to explore? He chuckled.

Then I’ll blame you for purchasing this big mansion. She winked at him in abundant love and passionately kissed him on the lips. Come on, let’s go.

Alright then my queen. After you. A delighted reply slid his base. He then turned to their little princess who was ardently taking snapshots of the stout lounge using Tennessee’s iPhone. Cheyeeeeenne?

Yeeeeees daddy? She glanced at him with her cute smile.

Would you mind following us on a house tour or you would rather prefer to be left behind?

I love this massive lounge so you can kindly leave me here.

And what if you’re lost in search of us?

I guess I ain’t going anywhere else, and I know you’ll still gonna find me right here. She grinned. I’ve already fallen in crush with the lovely lounge and it has fallen in crush with me too.

Awesome! Mr. Roosevelt said with a broad reciprocal grin as he turned to his wife. Indeed, we’ve got a clever little girl for a princess.

For sure we do have darling. She was much proud to appreciate.

The pure white walls of the 17-million-dollar-mansion only spoke of high-classed supreme, and the 3,000meter-tall glass windows of each yard of the paradise perfectly reflected the un-deniable supremacy of the home by no arguable jury. Portraits of famed artists around the globe brought in a ply fresh feel of life in-within the wide corridors of every wing, with only just one piece missing to purify the glory, -Mona Lisa-. Atop the 1st floor’s mildterrazo slab, a large infinity pool came calling, and Ms. Karrueche Canne was quickly attracted to it the very moments she set her gorgeous eyes at it. The warmth of the waters made her miss Reezy B dearly. (- Me and you my love, inside a pool like this one, there’s nowhere else I could proclaim my love for you Reezy B. -) Her mind began to race. (- I know we will still be together some day, and I’ll never give a shit about what my mum says about you. You’re mine! -)

In the midst of her thoughts, Tennessee Miguel appeared from behind and suddenly threw a crystal gem inside the pool, leading to some tones of water splashing slightly on her face. What the fuck bro?! She was all-over-sudden shocked. Where are your manners?!

Back in Wisconsin. He smiled.

To hell with you! She afforded to smile back, like if she did not care not to be angry at him. But she could not have dared at any cost to be since she has forever appreciated his companionship as a cool brother he has always been to her over the years.

What are you thinking about Ms.? He asked. I’ve observed you for a while and you seem to be much astray in strained ponder.

Nothing much, she grinned as she glanced back at the pool. Only just some random female thoughts.

Okay then, we should get going. There’s a lot to explore in this house.

By the ways Tennessee. What was that you’ve thrown into the pool?

A gem.

A gem?

Yeah, a crystal-clear diamond gem.

Where the fuck did you get it?? She enquired with curiosity.

At the piano room, while you were admiring the Lion King’s and Titanic’s portraits on the wall.

Could you take me back there, if you don’t mind? … I would love to have some for myself.

Nope, I won’t. It ain’t your first time to acquire a diamond gem. You’ve got lots of them you left back at Milwaukee. He smiled again.

Damn you! Karrueche’s smile was more skillful. I don’t mind having lots more here in Salt Lake City.

However much you give me that pretty grin, I won’t take you. Tennessee tried to hide his animated smile. I won’t fuckin take you inside that room. Farther more, there is no need for us to go before we have surveyed the other rooms.

You gonna take me there, whether you like it or not! She yanked a soft tone as she suddenly grabbed his left wrist and firmly began to pull him back towards the piano room.

- (Immediately upon their absence, the gem in the water twinkled four times and four diabolical spirits reflected the rear glass-wall of the infinity pool.) -

Down at the mega lounge, little Cheyenne had found soothing comfort in one of the Rockerfeler sofas adjacent to a brown coffee table that had made itself a lonely island amongst all the other furniture in the living room. Her much pleasurable slumber was suddenly cut short when she felt a gentle tap on her right shoulder.

Wake up my little angel, mamaa whispered. We’ve found a perfect room for you that you’ll love to be your bedroom. Perfect than the finest coastlines of Kenya.

Wooow! … Really? She drooped in happy ease as she stood up. Show me maami, I would like to have a view of it.

Follow us baby-girl.

Hold on, Mr. Roosevelt politely halted. It’s suddenly cold in the lounge. Or is it me alone feeling the strange coldness?

Nope daddy, it ain’t you alone. Cheyenne lamented. I feel the coldness too. She then glanced at Mrs. Tranny. Do you feel the same maami?

Yes, I do. Mamaa uttered in slight agape. But probably it’s because of the strong winds, or the moist climate that was brought about by the heavy rains which welcomed us to Utah.

Yeah. Most probably it’s the misty weather. Mr. Roosevelt agreed.

So, precious angel. … Can we go? Mamaa asked as she smiled at the little one. I know you’ll definitely love your new bedroom. It got everything you need.

I’m so anxious to be in it maami! Cheyenne applauded, her desire clearly visible on her young appealing face.

Alright our little princess. Follow our lead then.

Okay maami. After you.

They made their way up the white gorgeous duo-spiraled staircase, past the cute colliders of the long corridor of the mansion’s left-wing, through the wide gigantic pink alleys of the west-yard, and finally they found themselves trapped inside the beauty of Cheyenne Cincinatti’s new bedroom. All was not entirely lost as it had been left seven months ago.

~ •-• ~ Day-2 reigned itself well in the world’s ‘circumnavigation’ of life, seconds swiftly rushing on by each automated millisecond. The quickness of time had juxtaposed their much love for the 28-roomed-mansion and by the evening of 6th June 2020, no single room had been left completely untoured. Approaching in calm diligence was nighttime, the robust silence of the shiny streets moderating the intense peace of the neighborhood. As it was hitting 8:30pm, dinner was almost ready for the Trannys, but it seemed Karrueche Canne had lost much appetite for one of her favorite dish - minced cream rice, fried bacons, steamed Arizonian lettuce, white turkey stew and some dessert of fresh purple grapes and vanilla yoghurt. She was alone in her new bedroom while working on her silver Mac-Book laptop atop her bed. Beside her was a liquor bottle of the vintage-expensive Ciroc Vodka, adjacently placed on top of a small cabinet next to her bed on her right. - Even though she had her own unique principles and standards, she was quite much of an occasional sweer-drinker lady. - On her pristine laptop, specifically the 2016 Microsoft Word software, she was typing a slight eBook on how the whole journey of relocating to their new residence has been, and how she finds extreme comfortableness in their gorgeous mansion. Sipping strong shots of the liquor, she carried on with her writing, and as the fast minutes passed by, tipsiness had begun to take a great stride on her nerves. She decided to take a short break on her typing, as well as the drinking, and proceeded to the jacuzzi for a warm cajolery bedtime shower.

Unfortunately, the tipsiness was much adhesive and her showering was proving to be more skeptical. She stepped out of the shower cubicle and changed to her night-code dress mode - a pinked Olympian pajama inscribed ‘DaRsY’ all round it. Upon her dressing, she went back to her Mac-Book but she was suddenly in for a small surprise. At the end of her initial write, there was an additional statement reading -WELCOME HOME STRANGER, HOPE YOU’LL ENJOY YOUR STAY- typed in her original black small-lettered Lucinda Calligraphy font. Due to her deep tipsy state, she was quite torn apart as whether she was indeed the one who had typed that punchline. The axial mental confusion was much extreme that she realized she was too drunk to even progress further on with her eBook entitled; ‘Piacere In SLC.’

It is time to go to sleep. Her internal doppelganger opted in tire as she switched off the laptop. She then picked up her cream iPhone from the bed and decided to send a goodnight text to Reezy B, but with unfortunateness, the iPhone began to lose its network frequency at a much higher rapidity than ever before. Feeling somewhat greatly disappointed, Ms. Karrueche powered off the phone and went for a night nap. Suddenly, just as she laid her head on the bed, there was an aggressive knock at her bedroom’s brown Mahogany-braided door.

SHIT! … Who is iiiit?? She asked lazily, twisting her gorgeous body to the white wall in sudden shock.

It’s me siz, Tennessee echoed with mild fury. Open the gadamn door!

What the fuck do you want??

I’ve been told to let you know that dinner is ready.

Who cares?! … I ain’t hungry!

"You ain’t hungry but your belly