Poisedon's Kiss

Under the starless night, the clouds drift about lazily in the peaceful scenery of night, with a few bats navigating on their own activities undisturbed by the soft sounding music from the Assembly Hall below. The hall is lit with fanciful lights and soft decorations as youths in fancy clothings mill around, chatting, laughing, taking shots or merely just moping. The tiny waves in the lagoon some metres away from the hall hums gently, breathing it's evening blessing of cool airs towards the people. Around the magnificent hall that stretches for about 200meters long is the granite shore, littered with different types of vehicles, all exuding class and caste. For another 100 meters, the cars are parked, from the Hall to the Lake, only ceasing in their numbers as the little lake fence, which was built to prevent careless people from falling into the lake, comes to view. Behind the hall, inland, are the school buildings, adminstrative offices, block of classrooms and the likes, separated from the the hall by a hurriedly done electric fence with danger signs littered about. At the opposite side of the electric fence, security guards in blue shirt, trousers, black boots with gun pouches at their waists and batons in hands, watch the fence with stern eyes, observing minute movements about. This night is not a usual night at the school and thus, the management had put in everything to ensure that whatever the people in the hall did, never affected the rest in the school. The atmosphere is perfect with the cool air, soft music, gentle lightings and the likes as the graduates of LakeView College, one of the most expensive private secondary school in the state, mill around in anticipation for the Prom Night Event. Merry voices rise and fall, mixed in the din of youthful chatter by brightly dressed gentlemen and beautiful ladies. A couple of graduate students cluster around a black Aston Martin, watching as one rolls a dice into the granite shore. "Gah. It's a 6. The car is mine." The one who stooped, says, excitedly as he turns to a boy behind him. "Keys!" He ordered, flicking a finger at his target. Just opposite them are a set of five ladies, giggling as the one in the between holds a selfie stick to her smartphone, in the air. "Say Cheese, ladies." The Selfie stick lady says, her generously painted red lips parting to revealing pretty dentition that blended well with the light skinned complexion she has on. The ladies with her do as she says, dressed in revealing evening gowns and stiletto boots. One misses a step and stumbles just as the camera goes off, capturing the entire scene. "Yikes... How dare you ruin my picture?" The Selfie stick lady says, frowning fiercely at the now rising companion. "S-sorry! You said we should wear stiletto..." "Oh please. You can't be in my clique without following my dress code." The selfie stick lady says and huffs, picking the tail of her blood red evening gown. She turns away, walking with steady catwalks as the clique follows her behind. "Since we haven't seen Deola yet, I'll leave to the hall. The Opening dance of the Prom King and Queen should start soon. You four, head to the restrooms to make sure she didn't return to use the toilets. If she is, well, make her regret coming back." She orders, her eyes flashing with hints of anger and hatred. A bat screeches above, soaring towards the open of the lake. It flaps it's leathery wings just as it crossed over the small wooden picket fence separating the lake from the students at the hall. "God! I hate Bats!" A lady says as she vibrates on the spot, hands clinging tightly to her buttocks. She is adorned in a pink gown with sprinkled rose patterns all over accentuated with a silver necklace that looks like an upside tiara over her chest. Her hands glitter with the bronze wrist bracelets and engraved pearl studs, an epitome of melanine beauty. Except, her body tells a different story, one unbecoming of a lady. "Open the door ooh! Oh God." She rants to her seemingly busty friend who fumbles with her purse in a bid to get the car keys. "Deola, God will punish that Grace. I swear." "I don't care... Tunrayo, Don't let me poop on myself na.." Deola is half pleading and half crying. "That bastard girl... She planned it." Tunrayo clicks on the car key and the car headlamps flash twice. "Oh my God!. f**k It." Tunrayo explodes in rage, kicking against the door of her black convertible. "What?!" Deola sobs as she dances towards Tunrayo, sweat balls rolling off her face and searing the make up. "That bastard girl. She blew my tyre." Tunrayo curses, looking down at the deflated rear tyre of the drivers side. "No...no...no.." Deola's face froze, mouth agape in panic as she doubled lower, hands squeezing roughly her butt. "And all the toilets are full. I can't hold this anymore." She cries, putting a hand on the car for support. "I'm Sorry, babe. I'd have hit the road now to my house but that b***h blew my tyre. What do we do now? And it's almost time for your opening dance with Prom King. She's so wicked. I should have known that that b***h put something in the glass. Ah! The nerves, just because she didn't get to be Prom Queen and you did." Tunrayo panicks, wringing her fingers impatiently. A low rumbling sound fizzles from Deola's backside and the poor girl slams her knees together, stooping. "Seriously? You think I was drugged?" Deola sways front and back in attempt to alleviate the urge. "Yes... Doesn't it add up? It was her friends that were in all the four toilets. And when we wanted to leave, my tyre gets popped... Oh My... Grace wanted to humiliate you..." Tunrayo's eyes widen in shock as realization hit her. Deola does not respond as she is lost in suppressing the ache in her lower region. Right after Grace had come with a toast of wine to end their three years enmity since it was Prom and everyone would most likely go separate ways then, things had gone haywire. First, she felt her stomach being cleansed and purged and next, the urgent need to use the toilet. She had raced on, tailed by her best friend, Tunrayo, only to get there and all toilets occupied by Grace's friends. She had initially written it off as coincidence but... "Deola..." Tunrayo's voice interrupts her thoughts. "We can't let her humiliate you as the Prom Queen." Like a flash of lightning out of the sky, Tunrayo darts forward, gripping the hand of her friend as she pulls her towards the picket fence. "W-what?!" Deola stammers, following the forceful grip Tunrayo has, on her wrist. The duo walk to the other side of the convertible where the picket fence stands at a mere distance of two feet. The granite shore is water logged as the lake water washes over stones, slightly and receding, in same manner. "The tide is quite high today." Deola mutters. "Come on. Lakes don't have tides. That's a Lake seiche." "What's a seiche?"and "Seriously, you don't know? Gee! How'd you become the head girl in the first place?" Deola pouts to the taunt. "Look, nobody is coming now." Tunrayo continues, her eyes darting to and fro like a criminal up to some mischief. "So, you will bend down here and ease your..." "What? No?" Deola jerks her hand off Tunrayo's grip as she exclaims. "What is wrong with it?" Tunrayo stares daggers. "Absolutely everything. This is the time of the year when the Lagoon is fresh and not brackish and you want me to pollute it? Come on... I'm better than this..." "You're better? Fine!" Tunrayo fumes. "Have fun defecating on yourself, Prom Queen! Oh, the headlines that would make. Lake View Prom Queen bowel discharge on self at Prom." She gesticulates, emphasizing on Prom Queen. "I suppose that would make Grace the happiest witch alive." Deola vibrates as sweat runs down her face. Her body is clammy and she feels the need to get out of the perspiration soaked gown. Her eyes move from Tunrayo to the picket fence that is being mesmerized by minute water waves, contemplating what she should do. As she ponders, her lower abdomen rumbles, forcing her to double over and clasp her hands tightly at her buttocks. "Come on." Tunrayo says. "Poop into the lake? No way." Deola bends down totally as her stomach rages in discomfort. "Don't be stupid! Take off your pant. We are behind the car and nobody is coming. Plus, I'm not asking you to poop into the lake. Just ease yourself beside it." "Doesn't make any d-firrrrreeeeenceeeee... Aaaah!" "That's it. I'm not asking permission. I'm pulling that pant down!" Tunrayo huffs in rage as she storms to Deola. The latter seeing her come, shakily rises from the ground and moves towards the picket fence. She bends down, facing Tunrayo, well hidden by the black convertible. "Finee,....eeeeeeeeee!" Deola cries, eyes shut and face squeezed, as her bowels discharge down. Luckily, she was fast enough to pull her pant down to her knees while her gown is raised slightly above the ground for easier discharge. "Gahh... s**t!" Tunrayo exclaims, squeezing her nose up in the air. "You know what? I'll just stand at the back of car so I can ward off anybody coming here." "Oh, Do you have paper in the car?" Comes the reply from Deola whose hands are clasped in a praying form as she does her urgent business. "Gawd! Stinks!" Tunrayo says under her breath, hastily moving to the back of the convertible. "Paper for what?" She throws her face into the finer scenery of the night, towards the hall. "To wipe my butt, of course, since you never take tissue in the car." "Are you done?" "No... there's more coming...." "Well, finish that one first." Tunrayo shuffles to purse on the car roof. She fiddles with the contents for a split second before bringing out her smartphone. With the phone in her hand, she returns to her guard position, casting a hasty glance to her environs towards the lake. Tunrayo is 5.8feet tall with breasts the size of small watermelons. Darksinned, a complete contrast to Deola, she has luscious lips and a somewhat chubby face that is perfectly outlined with the fringe neck length hair she has on. Her neck is outlined with sparkling golden neck bracelet, accentuated with long thread like ear rings that end in a silver crescent. Her gown is soft and exquisitely designed, a stylized soft blue gown that reveals her plump cleavages and ends in a left leg split, revealing her silver wedge heels that add more inches to her 5.8 feet height. She scrolls through her phone, her fingers whisking up and down on the screen. A thought flashes into her mind about checking her friend out who had been quiet for some time now. Tunrayo tilts her head into Deola's way only for her to gasp, extremely shaken. Just behind Deola up in the air is a wave as high as her convertible, bending over her friend, the shape of a bearded man with outstretched hands forming alongside. It seems as though the wave man wants to envelop Deola. "Tunrayo, What?" Deola asks, unaware of what is happening above and behind her. Before Tunrayo's lips can part, another wave erupts behind, the shape of a figure forming through the wave. In a flash, the newer wave crashes into the bearded man like wave and both waves erupt into a shower of water, drenching Deola all over. "Ahhhh... And you told me Lakes don't have waves.! Ah! I'm finally ruined!" Deola grunts out, rising up from the ground, her whole body soaking wet. The water recedes at her feet, taking with it all waste material back into the Lake while.leaving an extremely stunned Tunrayo and an annoyed Deola on the shore. "Oh My God! I saw Poisedon." Tunrayo mutters. "Haha... Very Funny." Deola rolls her eyes. "Those myth novels you read are really getting into your head. Plus, this is Nigeria, the God of water will be the Yoruba Orisha, Olokun by name." Tunrayo blinks, unable to process what she saw earlier. "Maybe you're right." " Now, can we find a way to go home. I need to change and clean up." Tunrayo blinks again, splaying her hands. "What about Prom?" "I need to clean my bum and change my clothes first. I hate to admit it but Grace won. I just want to go home." Deola facepalms.