1 RETHABILE DAVID

  once upon a time there lived a girl named Rethabile David, well pretty much my story

        "Rethabile!!!!!! Why are you standing there staring at me?  you are too slow, come and take these things to the kitchen"

   currently used to my mom's nagging voice ,I don't know if it's a crime to take your time while walking and besides I don't like the kitchen because it stinks.

   If only I can say what I feel inside, but I can't anyway, it's good to respect elders first before respecting your decisions,  well that's just how the world is viewed, especially when they help you ,and besides my mom provides food and shelter for me and I need them to survive so who am I to talk back at her?, no one

     Taking the things to the kitchen many thoughts stormed my head  ,I need to wash my uniform, I have exams tomorrow ,I haven't read my books,  engulfed by sadness i froze, traumatizing thoughts of bein chased, out of the class.

    its  perplexing having to be ridiculed in public, and knowing their no alternative, its an enigma, a I having really gotten that, peace and bliss other student face, without financial setbacks

    That's my life ,I can't stress   mom too much. It's been ten years since my dad died, living me and my siblings in this cruel world. My situation is better, so they say, I can't say I miss him well I don't remember him. He died when I was two years old, quite tender, but not enough to grow the bond. 

         which resulted to a bondless relationship. with everyone around me ,no friends, no enemy, well quite impossible, but being an introvert guarantees more than just peace, you create less enemies,  though deep down, I jut want to spread  my arms,  grinning from ear to ear, as I play with everyone with no fear  of criticism,

        I just watch how people pass, some were couples, holding hands, while others were play mate, siblings, or just joyous people, the balcony had become, my favorite spot for quick depression wishing I would  one day be able to make friends and think less of my family financial status, or maybe my insecurities, how hard can it be?,  

     A familiar voice settled me "Reth!!!!Why are you staring at the window, and still standing at the entrance of the kitchen? Why can't you be like your brother, you are a lady  for crying out loud, how will you survive in your husband's house?"

   its always amusing when she bring up my husband's house, but i guess i am not the only one  who endures such obnoxious cliché , like a twelve year old girl would want to get married, I know I'm  not lazy, just unmotivated to do quite a multitude of things, I just like doing things my own way and on a slow pace, well if I want to be like my mate I have to act like them, so they say

       I wore my flip flops, I don't like dirt, and those irritating water droplets, hats  that's makes my hair spike each time I come in contact with it,  though I seems like a taboo in a typical African home ,my mom would always tell me how I acted different as a child, she said I cried a lot, thereby scaring anyone who want to get close to me, maybe that's why I have no friends, just maybe 

    I walked into the kitchen ,with a little smile on my face thinking about how I will tell my future friends about my childhood,  if I ended up confronting my demons, on special occasions, and social event, maybe I will converse, a little, my head is a mess, about to erupt

  I would tell them how I tried packing out of the house with no specific direction when I was five years old, because I wanted to be with my mom ,or how I threw my brother's cloth into a deep pit because I was angry he didn't wash my clothes as expected, quite 

   was quite a foulmouthed child, when i was little, but gradually  had turned into a sulking teenager, well almost a teenager

    I let myself enjoy this thoughts, while laughing  not noticing   mom throwing hateful and murderous glances at me while  calling me, I wouldn't have noticed anyway I was lost in my world of temporary happiness.

     So far the only thing that makes me happy is daydreaming and being able to win mostly in competition, then i really don't have to converse much ,I just watch the crowd , knowing all present  would concentrate on my flaws rather on my victory  ,I would always tell myself that I must win an award academically, before I die.

  Looking at my mom's angry and confused face, knowing fully well what would happen next, I prepared myself for a deafening sound... "Rethabile!! why are you laughing I have been calling you, what are you thinking about, I am totally convinced that's there's something wrong with you ...

    "You  must be a Witch, will you get out of the kitchen!!!, I just pity you ,you won't survive anywhere in this world ,you are just weak and extremely lazy", I have heard that word a billion times so It doesn't affect me that much.

      When it comes to using of words my mom is always brutal with it, it's her way of being honest with anyone and everyone, just depends on who cares to listen