Chapter four~Beautiful clowns

Have you ever been so drawn to something that it makes you want to run away 

•••

" Hey!" The toneless, deep voice breathed out behind her. It sounded so velvety and so familiar making her spun her head so fast to grace whosoever that owned the voice with her eyes. 

Those eyes immediately flew wide as she took in the light-skinned figure towering over her. Her curious gaze ran through him. He looked really familiar.

His curly black hair, coffee black eyes hooded under long lashes, aquiline nose flared up in suprise and his pink lips which lined a deep shade of brown which was parted open flashed vaguely through her memory as she tried racking her thoughts as to where she had seen him before, her stare still digging into his lean figure which donned an ash tee over a black sweatpants.

"Umm...you are the girl I saw earlier in church right?" he asked.

Recognition dawned on her.

He was the guy tapping mindlessly on his phone. What was he doing here anyway? Was he the delivery guy or something?

"I'm Toby..." he was starting to say, bringing her out of her mind-racking, she gulped. Still not removing her eyes from his features.

"What are you doing here?" The question sounded abit rude, she didn't care. Not like she ever sounded nice to anyone either but then looking at the Toby guy, he didn't seem to pick an offence at her question with the way his lips curved up in a smug smile.

"I actually came here to do a delivery," he stretched out the package which his mum had earlier given him to her.

Yara stared at the neatly wrapped package through a narrowed gaze, her lips pursed and a plain neutral expression fixed on her face.

"You can have a look at it yunno, it doesn't bite." he voiced. A hint of amusement laced underneath his tone as he stared at the girl who had drilled him with a cold glare. 

He took a full view of her slender figure in the black joggers, black tees and a black crocs crowning her dressing, her bobed hair, honey eyes, thick lashes, nose stuck in the air and her small lips pursed in an unimpressive way.

She hadn't taken the wrap from him yet, infact, she hadn't even said a word apart from her nonchalant question which she had asked earlier. Instead, she had her hands folded around her bosom, fixing her gaze into his whole body like she she had seen something disdainfully interesting. He sighed, rubbing his index fingers across his temples.

"I forgot you'll have to sign some papers before I hand this over anyway." he reached out to his BMW power bike, bringing out a folded paper and a pen inside a black cross bag which she hadn't noticed earlier, he stretched it out to her to which she collected without saying a word as she began scribbling on it.

He watched her eyes flicker in total concentration and lips still pursed as her fingers controlled the pen on the paper.

"You don't seem like a delivery guy." she said in a leveled tone, taking him totally by surprise. She didn't look like the type to start off a conversation with anyone, heck! She didn't even seem like she wanted to be anywhere near humans but then hearing her speak. Not rudely, but with a clear neutral voice, he grinned. 

A lopsided grin.

"Ooh I'm not really, just running a delivery for my mum...she's a fashion designer." she flickered her eyes to him for a spiff second.

"Cool."

He curved his lips into a wider smile, resting his hands into the inside pockets of his sweats "yeah...you should check out what she did with your jumpsuit, bet you'll love it. She says you're not the gown type of person." he shrugged,  "whatever that means."

"She's thoughtful." she replied, handing him the paper in exchange for the wrap.

"And you don't seem like a talker.” he clamped his lips shut almost immediately he had voiced that out. She raised her eyebrows, boring her gaze into him.

"Cause . I . am . not"

"Yeah it's written all over you." he countered. she eyed him, opened her mouth to say something then closed it again. spurning around and making her way back into the huge mansion when he called out again.

"Do you want to know whatelse is written all over you?"

"I'm not interested."

"Your tip."

This time, she halted her steps using her hands to palm her face. She had totally forgotten that she was supposed to tip him, anyway it wasn't late. 

" Here...." she strechted out a thousand naira note to which he ignored, not letting his coffee eyes leave hers.

"Actually it's your tip."

She cocked an eyebrow,  "what's that?"

"The tip to wearing that dress, it'll suit you better if you at least put up a smile.” 

drawing his index fingers and his thumb across his jaws with a wide grin.

She scowled, not appreciating his gesture and  zeroing her gaze at him in a cold glare as she let out a small scoff from her lips.

" I don't plan on looking like a clown today."

"Oh you don't look like one. Besides, clowns make somethings beautiful, like beautiful jokes." he replied and she sneered.

"You're one of those delusional individuals who think everyone who smiles actually have something beautiful within them?"

"It's not being delusional it's a free healthy tip.”

She gave a him small wistful laugh, running her eyes at him like he had lost his sense.

"Smiles aren't all there is to make something look beautiful, that's a delusional thinking. Moreover, I don't need healthy tips. It's pain. "

He stared at her for what seemed to be a minute, taking in every word which she spoke with conviction. Was she a sadist?

And who else thought smiling was a pain?

He shook his head at her with a light shrug. eyes gleaming at her in astonishment, "well, my realist point of view, it's actually healthy to smile because YOLO.”

She scoffed, " whoever thought you to be a realist must be as delusional as you are.”  with that swerved her way back into the house.

"You should try smiling sincerely too, especially when you still have your teeth, that way is less of an unrealistic theory." he called after her.

She flared her nostrils, " Excuse me mister..."

"It's Toby, you're welcome. "

"I don't fucking care!" She snapped.

"Woah! I'm sorry okay." He raised his hands in mock surrender, quite befuddled at her emotional switch. One minute she was neutral and the next she minute she was cold and edgy.

Still glaring at him, she muttered a 'get lost' to which he actually heard while she made her way into the mansion. Toby stared at her retreating figure, releasing a deep breath which he wasn't even aware that he was holding yet he didn't find her scary as he thought she was.

More like, fragile wreck crying for a breakthrough.

•••

It had been almost an hour since she had collected her black shiny jumpsuit from the delivery guy which laid on the bed merging with the dark-themed room.

An hour since she stood in front of the mirror trying to get his face and his unrealistic thoughts out of her memory.

What right did she even have to dare think of living? 

whatelse was written all over her face?

It had been an hour since the girl standing infont of the mirror with a haggard looking hair,baggy red eyes, puffy cheeks and a swollen face stared back at her and rummaging through her jumbled thoughts.

Soft sounds of piano rising to a crescendo had begun emitting from the downfloor, heels clicking the exquisite marble and loud laughter rang throughout the building yet her mind had wandered far away into the still calm mocking voice of her subconscious which constricted her senses.

"You don't have a right to smile you pathetic thing."

"You killed your sister...what right do you have to live freely."

"You're a pain! You'll never be accepted."

"You're filthy! So much for the sins you're paying for."

"Just die!"

"You don't belong here!"

It had been an hour since the voices rang inside her ears. Silent, still and calm was the eerily voice which made her inside quake with so much fear. 

She rammed her palms to the both side of her ears to stop the voices from sounding so loud. Quiet voices noisly shook her every being, calmly lunging brutally like pain seeping into her senses. She gripped the edge of the vanity table which stood in front of the mirror.

Staring with bloodshot eyes at the tired reflection of the girl in the transparent frame begging to be set free from her mental torments, she bit hard into her lips as painful images resurfaced.

You deserve to die.

The eerily voice rang inside her, sounding like a warning alarm, like a siren warning her not to dare think of her freedom.

You're a filthy thing who will never be loved.

The voices...

They were calm.

It was driving her insane.

She stared at her reflection again, her heart pounding erratically, her whole body quivering in pain and fear, her head throbbing loudly in anguish, a low whimper escaped her lips and then..

Then..

She broke into a round of laughter.

A mirthless, emotionless laughter.

The sides of her jaws hurting in her faux laughter to which she was oblivious to cause she had numbed the pain within her.

She laughed sadly at the reflection of herself.

At how helpless she looked.

She laughed untill tears had come cascading down her cheeks, slowly they began to fall like torrents. The calm voices noisily taking a larger part of her senses as she laughed through pain, finally quitting, she searched frantically inside her drawers for the pills which she had gotten used to.

A familiar orange bottle which had become part of her. She cocked the bottle open, throwing in more than a handful dosage of white pills into her mouth.

For a second, a wave of calmness engulfed her. Not the painful type of calmness, but a numbing one which she welcomed heartily. She felt her head take a whirl, staggering alittle and gripping the table.

She gasped heavily, her breathing had gotten too calm. Her eyelids closed slowly, welcoming the darkness. A darkness she was used to. A darkness she had come to accept.

Whatever it was that she was welcoming, it wasn't death nor an unforseen journey.

No.

It was peace.

••••

"Yara! Yara!! " a violent shook, tugged at her in a frantic voice laced with fear. She knitted her eyebrows together. Wasn't she supposed to be dead? How come she could still hear and feel someone around her.

Do the dead actually hear or feel humans now?

"Yara!  Jesus Christ, Yara please wake up." the voice cried out louder. This time she recognized the voice to be that of Benny's. She flickered her eyelids slowly, the electric bulb illuminated the whole room, causing her to squint faintly. Her head throbbed in a sharp pain. She hissed, bringing her hands to run at the sides of her temples.

"Oh Jesus! Thank God you're awake! "Benny sighed in relief, pulling her into her scent of curry and thyme mix.

"Is she alright?” another voice which she recognized to be her mother's called out from outside the room. Benny nodded swiftly, forgetting that Mrs dera couldn't see her head at the moment, she replied 

"Yes ma, she's awake."

"Good. Tell her to come down, there are some people she needs to meet and greet." her mother's stern voice ordered, followed by the click of her heels exiting the door.

Benny swallowed hard, taking a peek at the small frame of the girl wrapped around her arms. It was nice to see her this way, accepting an embrace from someone. She knew Yara had gone into one of her depressing sessions. She couldn't be of much help to her, Yara never accepted any. But seeing the way she clunged tightly to her dress sent a wash of relief waft through her.

After what seemed to be a minute, Yara had quickly pulled away as though she felt something hot. She rubbed the sides of her neck, quickly standing on her ten toes as she ran her eyes around not meeting Benny's.

"My head hurts, get me the pain killer." she muttered. Benny sighed, taking steady steps to stand up too from their crouched position.

"No you aren't taking any pills again, i think you've had enough, i'll get you some water instead."

Yara stared at the chubby woman briefly, her expression closed off then with a wave of her hands, she dismissed her who left not without placing the glass of water on her reading table.

After she had finished her hygiene in the bathtub, she stepped out into the jumpsuits, pairing it with silver stilettos. A nude lipstick, powders and mascara and she was good to go. She had practiced fake-smiling like a necessity so it wasn't hard plastering a fake smile on her face as she greeted the so called individuals who her mum had wanted her to meet.

"Oh my gosh, your daughter is beautiful in person.”

"Wish I had a daughter like you." another person voiced out to her mother. She rolled her eyes at the at the person while her mother beamed throughout the whole compliment, nudging her with her elbows to reciprocate the compliment with a smile.

It got her wondering, between she and her mother who was plastering the most fake smiles here?

"Umm...Yara, i'll like you to meet someone." her mum said when they were alone.

"I don't feel too good..." she was starting to say when a man had walked up to her them, slightly tapping her mum.

"Excuse me ma'am."

"Oh mr Dele" her mum greeted the man elatedly, quickly excusing herself to give him an attention.

It hurt.

But she was glad about not meeting anymore people.

Reeling her stilettos to walk past them, she caught sight of a light-skinned guy with the black curly hair chattering around with a wide smile playing on his face. There was an older lady who pecked his cheeks, muttering something to him before walking away and then a younger girl who had a huge smile stretched on her face as she fixated her attention to him.

Both of them were seemed to be so lively, so lost in their conversation, so drawn to their smiles as they laughed together. She stared at him, the way he doubled up in laughter, the way his eyes twinkled in amusement as he gazed at the younger girl. 

His smile seemed to lit up the whole room, she could hear his laughter resounding around her..it was better than whatever music that was playing right now. It sounded beautiful, he looked more like the beautiful clown he had talked about earlier

She watched him for what looked like a whole thirty minutes. Not aware of her actions but instead lost in his world. As she stared at him, a small fear tugging at her heart at what she was doing, getting a grip at herself, she tried tearing her gaze from him just when he raised his head to meet with hers. He had caught her staring at him but what he didn't know was how long she had been doing that.

On impulse, he waved at her, gesturing to her to come closer. The nerve of him.

She quickly averted her gaze, faked a cough and proceeded to walk away. Rather, she found herself slowly drawing closer to where he sat with the younger girl who still had a smile on her face. She walked slowly on her stilettos, every step she took had her insides screaming at her to get a hold of herself and forget walking any further to him.  Yet, she seemed powerless that instant been drawn to his presence.

Still ambling forward, eyes fixated on the light-skinned curly dark haired boy, the younger girl besides him switched her attention to her and then...

She froze.

Dead in her tracks.