BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN ONE The clouds are enraged tonight. Their thickness is as though a giant man has climbed up the sky and covered them with the thickest blanket ever made. They pour with anger. Lightning flashes. Thunder rolls. Little blocks of ice fall. The gutters gush out, unable to contain the rain’s ire. The stench of refuse and excrement fill the air. There is not a sight of a human or animal. Everyone is hidden in the safety of their homes. Everyone but me. I am drenched in the rain. Droplets of rain find their way into my underwear and socks. I sniff continuously as catarrh slides down my nose. My teeth chatter. My tiny body shakes furiously. I trudge along the muddy path in search of a safe place. Who am I kidding? I ask myself. The only safe place I have ever known in all my life is my home. Have I quickly forgotten that home is no longer home? The thought of this cause my eyes to sting. Hot tears pour out, meeting the cold droplets of rain on my face like a confluence. I notice a shed some distances away. My steps quicken as I hurry towards the shed. I forget that the ground is wet and slippery, so I trip. I bruise my left knee and blood gushes out. Mad at myself, the rain, the ground and the entire world, I let out a scream that gets drowned by the rumbling of the thunder. Lowering myself to the wet ground, I continue to scream. This is the only thing that seems comforting at this point. I scream hoping that my lungs would tighten and make me run out of breath. I do not want to live. I do not even know what it means to live. Despite my continuous screaming, I do not run out of breath. The only thing that happens to me is the mix of rain and catarrh in my mouth. I hate this day. I hate myself. Slowly, I get up and limp towards the shed. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of goat faeces. My system gives me a puke signal but I hold it down. I take out dry clothes from the black duffel bag gran-gran had bought me on one of her many trips to Onitsha. I change into the dry clothes and take out two wrappers. I spread one of them and lie on the floor of the shed, while I use the other one as a comforter. As I lie down, memories from yesterday flood in. *** ‘You cannot be pregnant under my roof.’ Father barked. ‘How can…how can…how can a child…you just can’t be pregnant…how can you?’ He stammered for lack of words. ‘And who is responsible?’ He demanded. ‘Am I not talking to you?’ ‘Or maybe you are not only pregnant, but deaf too.’ With bloodshot eyes and rage in his voice he shouted. Shaking like a leaf on a windy day, I replied. ‘I don’t know sir.’ ‘You don’t know?’ Father asked in bewilderment. Then suddenly he began to laugh hysterically. Baffled, Mother and I stared at each other, then at him. Father has gone mad. I have made my father lose his senses. I told myself. ‘You this girl, you think this is funny? How can you prank your father, ehn tell me? He looked at me, expecting a reply. ‘What, what prank Father?’ I asked in fear and confusion. ‘Where is it, tell me, where is it?’ He started searching frantically around the living room, tossing throw pillows all over the place. ‘Asuquo, what is it you are searching for?’ Mother enquired, her voice heavily filled with concern. ‘The camera.’ He began searching behind the TV stand. ‘I want that camera. What an expensive joke this is.’ This is definitely a prank.’ ‘Asu.’ Mother called him with fondness. ‘Please calm down.’ Sitting down on a sofa, Father wiped off sweat from his face and smiled. Why was he smiling? His smile crept me out. ...to be continued #beautifullybroken #onceuponathursdaywithlauren #AbeokutaMC #yearofLights 🌟
Hmmm! So what happened......? I can wait. Thinis beautiful👌
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Wow.. Must we wait till next Thursday for the continuation?
Wow...I just couldn't stop reading...nice and captivating. Beautifully connecting the bad weather to the anguish felt by the narrator. Looking forward to TWO.
Amazing . thank u
I Love It!! Wow