The bell rang for break and I walked out of the class without saying a word. It had been an uneventful morning, no lectures; just some homework and study. The throbbing in my head subsided after rubbing my forehead a few times. The migraines came as they liked, followed by a ringing sound in my ears. The atmosphere was charged with cheering and consternation, but none of them was the cause of the migraines and the ringing. I needed to pour some water on my head. In the restroom, it was erringly quiet. Relieved that I wouldn’t have to share the space with some entitled self-conscious teenager, I made for the wash bowl and dipped my head in it. The water ran over my forehead. I didn’t mind that it touched my hair. The pounding subsided as I poured more water on it. Then there was creek, and the sound of a door opening. When I raised my head it wasn’t the front door but the door of one of the cubicles. It was the one directly behind me. What I saw next froze my blood. A hooded fi
The last person I wanted to see when I opened my eyes were Bernice, my dad’s girlfriend. She was a spiting example of trying to do too much. "Oh Luna, how are you feeling?’", "O Luna, do you feel pains?", "O Luna, we were so scared."I wasn’t ready to be dotted on, so I asked her to stop. I wanted to tell her that she was not my mother and she should stop acting like one. Even though my parents divorced about a year ago, Bernice could not decide to step into my mom’s place.Mom’s leaving, a year ago, didn’t really leave a gap in my heart as I expected because we spoke every other day. Since coming to this clinic yesterday, she had called in every hour. "Bernice is only trying to help, Luna," Dad said. He had been watching her and it made feel sick to the stomach that he found her attractive. Though curvy and auburn-haired, she had a permanent smirk on her face. Worse still she was at least twelve years dad’s junior. Why would dad find her attractive at all? Was she not too young f
After a moment of silence, I heard my mom say, "we have to talk to her and ask about the headaches and ringing.""But will you get anything new from asking her? I already told you all there is to it.""I think there is something new we might get. The headaches and ringing were not there while we were married, was it?" my mom asked."Before we get too worried, I think it time we talk to Vesta and tell our daughter who she is." My dad said."I insist we talk to her first."I knew it was time to leave, and I tiptoed back to the sofa.It took thirty minutes before they came out of the room. I was on Instagram, texting with Angela and looking at pictures on Ethan’s page. Ethan had sent me a message asking about my head and wishing me well. "What did you text in response?""I just sent him a thank you.""Just that? Didn’t you ask how his day went or if he missed you?""Why? He is not my boyfriend.""He could be if you had played your cards right.""I'm not supposed to make the first move,
My dad told me it was useless to involve the police, not only that none of us could describe the hooded figures without sounding stupid; dad told me they controlled the police. I didn’t believe him but with his number of years working on the police force, he knew what worked in the force and who controlled things. We were in his cruiser, on our way to my school. He wanted to drive me to school that day. It was quite understandable because we were both shaken by what had happened in our house last night."Did you know what mom was trying to say me?""Let us talk about it after school baby girl. I have to hurry back to work now."We had just arrived at my school and after he had parked his car, he looked at me and said, "You will be fine and remember that you mom and I love you very much." He gave me a kiss on my forehead before letting me go.It was a chilling morning. The weather forecast that day had predicted a wet day and one could see the rain clouds gathering in the distance.
After a moment of silence, I heard my mom say, "we have to talk to her and ask about the headaches and ringing.""But will you get anything new from asking her? I already told you all there is to it.""I think there is something new we might get. The headaches and ringing were not there while we were married, was it?" my mom asked."Before we get too worried, I think it time we talk to Vesta and tell our daughter who she is." My dad said."I insist we talk to her first."I knew it was time to leave, and I tiptoed back to the sofa.It took thirty minutes before they came out of the room. I was on Instagram, texting with Angela and looking at pictures on Ethan’s page. Ethan had sent me a message asking about my head and wishing me well. "What did you text in response?""I just sent him a thank you.""Just that? Didn’t you ask how his day went or if he missed you?""Why? He is not my boyfriend.""He could be if you had played your cards right.""I'm not supposed to make the first move,
The last person I wanted to see when I opened my eyes were Bernice, my dad’s girlfriend. She was a spiting example of trying to do too much. "Oh Luna, how are you feeling?’", "O Luna, do you feel pains?", "O Luna, we were so scared."I wasn’t ready to be dotted on, so I asked her to stop. I wanted to tell her that she was not my mother and she should stop acting like one. Even though my parents divorced about a year ago, Bernice could not decide to step into my mom’s place.Mom’s leaving, a year ago, didn’t really leave a gap in my heart as I expected because we spoke every other day. Since coming to this clinic yesterday, she had called in every hour. "Bernice is only trying to help, Luna," Dad said. He had been watching her and it made feel sick to the stomach that he found her attractive. Though curvy and auburn-haired, she had a permanent smirk on her face. Worse still she was at least twelve years dad’s junior. Why would dad find her attractive at all? Was she not too young f
The bell rang for break and I walked out of the class without saying a word. It had been an uneventful morning, no lectures; just some homework and study. The throbbing in my head subsided after rubbing my forehead a few times. The migraines came as they liked, followed by a ringing sound in my ears. The atmosphere was charged with cheering and consternation, but none of them was the cause of the migraines and the ringing. I needed to pour some water on my head. In the restroom, it was erringly quiet. Relieved that I wouldn’t have to share the space with some entitled self-conscious teenager, I made for the wash bowl and dipped my head in it. The water ran over my forehead. I didn’t mind that it touched my hair. The pounding subsided as I poured more water on it. Then there was creek, and the sound of a door opening. When I raised my head it wasn’t the front door but the door of one of the cubicles. It was the one directly behind me. What I saw next froze my blood. A hooded fi