Most of the events and adventures in this book are fiction. However, some are real and I have experienced them myself. The rest are fiction, the names are imagined and combined to make characters. Although my book is intended for entertainment, it is mainly here to teach everyone. Men, women, parents and young youth to watch out because we are technically facing these issues in real life.

I want to start by thanking my parents who gave me the room to keep writing, and believed in me when no one would. Thank you, Dad and Mom. (Siborurema Gilbert, Uwonakunze Jeanine) my lovely sister, Uwimpuhwe Noella. But I especially want to thank Fred Mfuranzima for making this happen. I am so appreciative. Again, I want to take this opportunity and thank my aunts. Denyse Mukamusoni, Valentine Tuyishime, and Sabine Ingabire for supporting me and encouraging me to move on. I want to thank Sylvain Nayituriki again for being there for me and supporting me. I also thank my friend Berthine Uwanyiribambe who read and patiently waited for me to finish new chapters. Want to thank Shakur Ndayishimiye for encouraging me to continue writing. I owe him a lot. Thank you. I thank Gratien for pushing me to do good even if no one recognizes it. Thank you for believing in me. Want to thank all the Editors who did a great job in making this book tremendous. My literature teachers at Sonrise shaped my path. I am appreciative. Want to thank Isango Star, Kigali Public Library, the Ministry of Youth and Culture, my college Kepler and my root Sonrise High School, my country …… I would love to thank many, but I also extend my appreciation to Salim Kayiranga, Noella Ishimwe, Annet Umutesi, and many others.

She sat comfortably on her couch. It had been months. She had come to like it there. She sat ogling at the white sheet of paper she had in her left hand. Her mind was racing like hell. One side told her to drop the sharp razor in her right hand while the other told her to finish what she had been waiting for! Only Lord knew what would happen after the awful act she was planning to do. The wind blew from the window from her backside. Allowing the white gown tail to fly far beautifully. Gloria had dreamed of such a beautiful wedding. One with thousands of roses on her feet and hundreds of people on the wooden benches while the chill blow of wind called them on to the sea. She had it all. All in her hands like she was a queen. But all was going to be blown. Eric Rugwiro came rushing into the sitting room where everyone was sitting waiting for Gloria to come out. It was forbidden for the bridegroom to see his bride in a dress in Rwandan culture. Mostly it was forbidden for a bridegroom to see that. Eric was not allowed to look at Gloria before time. He couldn’t wait. He was after all his bride. There were no norms or rituals over what was his. He had a rose that held a beautifully wrapped letter in his hands. Smiling, he opened the door and closed silently calling his bride in a low voice with beautiful names that deserved the beautiful Gloria. After some long ten minutes, it was high time to take Gloria away from Eric. The two men who guided the door looked at each other after hearing some whispers in the hall about a long talk Eric was having with his bride. “I am going in!” Matthew said.

Nodding, he pushed the door open. The red lake welcomed him at the doorway. Screaming, he attracted everyone in the room. Mrs. Mutabazi was pacing beside the great hall waiting for her beautiful lovely daughter to come out. She had chosen the naked back white dress with high slits which had taken the breath of Gloria’s mother more than Gloria herself. Rushing in, she also fell into the blood river that welcomed her at the doorway. She slipped in the red flow and was stuck by the white letter. She forgot what she was sitting in and picked it up. “Dear parents… Mom, I love you so much. I love you like no one else. But I am so sorry if you are the one reading this. I hope you are. I saw you pacing up and down. Excited to see me in the dress you chose. I hope by now it is unrecognizable because it is white-red. I am so sorry. I couldn’t make you the proud woman you dreamed of. I am so sorry…… She started reading loud and louder. Each line and sentence made her cry even more looking at the stagnant blood she sat in. But she kept on reading as the guides called the ambulance; however, it was too late for that.