chapter 3
Shandell POV
"Good morning, Big Bro," I said, attempting to lighten the mood with a playful frown. My cousin Ian was still trudging up the stairs, his expression as dark as the night before. He had arrived in a foul mood, and it seemed it was still lingering. "You promised to take me shopping, but it looks like you forgot," I teased, trying to break through his gruff exterior.
Ian's response was curt, his smile forced. "We'll do that when I'm less busy." I could tell he was preoccupied, but his brusqueness still stung.
Just then, my mom walked in from the kitchen with tea cups, her eyes fixed on Ian's scowl. "You better wipe off that look if you're going to stay in my house," she said, her tone firm but gentle.
Ian's response was laced with sarcasm. "Or maybe I could leave immediately." His words hung in the air, a challenge unspoken. I shot my mom a warning look, hoping to diffuse the tension, but she was unfazed.
"You should learn to be nice, Ian," she fired back, unconcerned by my silent plea. "I was joking, by the way." Her words were a reminder that Ian's gruff demeanor was nothing new, but it still made me uncomfortable. I wished he would learn to soften his edges, if only for our sake.
The three of us sat down to a somber breakfast, the silence between us palpable. As an only child who had lost my father, I had come to regard Ian as a surrogate father figure, despite his rough exterior and gruff demeanor. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, but it was the only one I had.
My mom, still reeling from the loss of her husband, put on a brave face every day, hiding her anguish behind a mask of smiles and forced cheer. It was a silent struggle, one that I knew all too well. I, too, was grappling with my own emotions, but in a different way. I had become a bully at school, lashing out at others to distract from my own vulnerability. It was a facade, one that was wearing thin.
Gloria, was a source of inspiration for me. She had a strength and resilience that I admired, a ability to face life's challenges with courage and determination. Unlike me, she wasn't crumbling under the weight of her emotions. I wished I could be more like her, but for now, I was stuck in this cycle of pain and anger,
"I'll be leaving now," Ian said, his voice firm as he stood up from his chair and retrieved his jacket from the couch. He was already halfway to the door when my mom spoke up, her words a gentle rebuke. "You need a wife, Ian." I froze, knowing that Ian didn't take kindly to unsolicited advice. He merely smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement, before continuing on his way out the door.
"Mrs. Ade, you're going to get yourself into trouble," I joked, . My mom just winked at me, her eyes twinkling with a knowing glint, before heading into the kitchen to start cleaning up.
As I sat there alone, sipping my tea and lost in thought, I couldn't help but reflect on my 17 years on this earth. It had been a wild ride, full of ups and downs, and I was still trying to figure out who I was and where I fit in. I reached for my phone and pulled up one of my favorite songs, "Runaway" by Aurora, letting the haunting melody wash over me and calm my racing thoughts. The lyrics spoke directly to my soul, and I felt a sense of comfort in knowing that I wasn't alone in my struggles.
Gloria POV
"I was walking home from school when a call from a payphone caught me off guard. It was my dad, a rare occurrence since he hardly ever called me. I picked up, hoping to hear a warm greeting, but instead, he requested my presence at an important meeting. I reluctantly agreed, just to end the call, but I had no intention of actually going. His demand left me uneasy and resistant.
"After the call, I changed my mind and decided to head to one of my favorite spots it was better to go there at night, a peaceful park on the Lagos mainland. I sought solace in its quiet atmosphere, but my tranquility was short-lived. As I sat on a bench by the pond, I noticed two couples engaged in intimate moments. At first, I thought it was sweet, but my heart sank when I realized the woman was my mother, and the man was not my father. I was shocked and disbelieving. The revelation ruined my mood, and I couldn't fathom how my mother could betray my trust like this. Tomorrow was supposed to be a celebration, but now everything felt tainted."
"I slipped out of the park unnoticed, ensuring no one saw me or my mother's betrayal. Back home, I collapsed against the door, and all my pent-up emotions poured out. The scene in the park still replayed in my mind when a sharp pain struck my cheek, sending me to the ground. Dazed, I looked up to see my father, tears streaming down my face as I realized he had hit me. 'I've been calling you!' he yelled, before unleashing a flurry of kicks and punches that left my body ablaze. I shielded my face with both hands, hoping to minimize the visible damage, and lay there, motionless. It was as if I knew this would happen again someday. I wished he would end it all, maybe then I'd find peace. Tomorrow's party flashed in my mind - I had never been to one, but maybe it would be my escape, my chance to find solace. Thoughts swirled in my head, but I felt nothing, a numbness that consumed me.
"As I slowly opened my eyes, the morning light pierced through my haze. I was still on the floor, my body aching all over, with a violent headache throbbing in my temples. The memories of last night's brutal beating by my own father came flooding back. With great effort, I forced myself to stand up and climb the stairs to my room, wincing in pain with each step. The thought echoed in my mind: 'My own father left me lying on the cold floor, battered and broken.' I opened my drawer to reach for some painkillers, only to find the empty packets.
"With aching limbs, I forced myself to get dressed and headed to the nearby pharmacy for painkillers and medication. I had a meager breakfast from the leftovers in the fridge since Monday, and then dedicated myself to cleaning the house spotless, knowing I'd be out and didn't want to receive any complaints, especially from my mom. She hadn't come home the previous night, and I was still reeling from the fact that she didn't know what happened and I wasn't going to tell her anything not after the brutal beating. After completing the chores, I turned my attention to preparing for the party. With limited funds, buying a new dress was out of the question, so I scoured my wardrobe for a suitable option. That's when I spotted it - a stunning red cheongsam, a gift from my late grandmother. I had been saving it for a special occasion, and this seemed like the perfect moment. The traditional Chinese design would accentuate my curves, making it the ideal dress for me."
"After completing my preparations, I decided to take a two-hour nap. However, when I woke up, it was dark outside, and I realized I had slept for over five hours. Despite feeling slightly better, I was running short on time, with only an hour left before the party. I took a few quick puffs on my cigarette before freshening up, applying a light touch of makeup, courtesy of my aunt's tutorials, and styling my hair. As I put on the red cheongsam, I couldn't help but admire myself in the mirror. The dress worked its magic, accentuating my curves and complementing my hair and makeup. I looked stunning, and with a newfound confidence, I locked the door behind me and stepped out into the night. My pre-booked Uber driver was already waiting, ready to whisk me away to the party."