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A Girl Like Amanda - S01 E12 (Story Episode)

A Girl Like Amanda - S01  E12 (Story Episode)

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 12

Eighteen Years Ago.“Look at your leg, your bleeding.” Juliet says in regret.

She carries her daughter to the front yard and then brought a alcoholic substance and poured on the wound, Amanda winces out in pain crying as the liquid is poured on her wound. “Mummy, it’s painful.” She cries out holding her mother’s wrapper as she sat on her lap. “I know Amanda but this will help with the pain okay?” Juliet smiles to her daughter as she carried a piece of a torn cloth and cleaned the blood, seeing the wound up close, Juliet wasn’t happy as it has given Amanda a deep cut on her left toe.

Grimacing in pain, Amanda was crying heavily. “Mama hold me so that the pain would go away.” Little Amanda says looking at her mother trying to smile, Juliet looks at her and held her close to her bosom. “Don’t worry darling, you won’t feel the pain anymore.

*Amanda woke up with a splitting headache, she looks around the room as she tries to remember what happened to her last night.

She had drank the cup of tea and then took a bottle of whisky to the living room as the thought of Michael’s death was confusing, she finished the bottle of whisky and took a bottle of another one before she dosed off on the couch, she couldn’t remember how she got to her bed.

She stood up from the bed and entered the bathroom, brushing her teeth before taking a paracetamol pill for the headache.

She got into the shower and stayed there for close to thirty minutes thinking as she bath.

She came out cleaning her body with a towel as she changed into a casual wear, taking her Honda accord car key and a handgun with her, she checks the magazine and see it’s a full load, she places it in her bag unsure of the need, she felt it safe to be with it. She checks the time and it’s some few minutes past ten o’clock.

She exited her room and walked down the stairs, she saw Adams outside of his quarters trimming the hedges.

She calls for him and he ran immediately to her.“You called madam?” He asks as he got close to her.

“Yea and I’ve been telling you not to be calling me madam, call me by my name alright?” She says almost seriously. “I can’t madam, what kind of a gate man calls his madam by her name?” He smirks and said. “The type that is going to lose his job if he continues what his employee doesn’t like.” She looks at him sternly.He looks at her and nods in agreement. “Okay Amanda, you’re going out?” He asks as he noticeshe was dressed to go out. “Yea,” she confirms.“Okay let me get the gate open.” He says running to the gate but is called back.“I wanna ask, I remember sleeping on my couch but when I woke up, I was on the bed.” She asks him.

He looks at her for a second and says “Am sorry but I was the one who carried you to the bed last night.

You were so drunk.” He says looking at the ground. “It’s okay, really. Was just trying to figure it out okay?” She says as she places a hand on his shoulder.

He smiles and run to the gate while she enters the car and ignited the engine before driving out of the compound.*

It was a six minute driver to Michael’s house, when she got there to the gate she saw a black Camry car parked outside but didn’t think of it.

Then something caught her, the pederestrian gate was wide open.

She got down from the car and looks at the gate once more, she wonders if she should enter inside, thinking otherwise, she brought out her phone and scrolled through her phone contacts, she sees Victoria’s number, she contemplated calling her.

Deciding against the idea, she drops her phone inside the car, took out her handgun and drops the bag inside the car also, steadily moving towards the gate, she enters and see the gateman dead with a bullet in his head, she c---s the gun and slowly opens the front door and entersinside.

Navigating through the room, she proceeded to the bedroom quietly calling out to Victoria.

She saw a shadow behind and she quickly turns around and sees a guy pointing a gun at her smiling sheepishly.


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