Chapter 62

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"If mental abuse was a punishable crime, a lot of parents would be in jail serving a long term."

~ Maddy Malhotra

Lucky

     Encountering something bad and having a near encounter with something bad leaves you with the same fear. You ask yourself — had I really escaped the jaws of destruction? Why would the universe let people go through these things? Having a narrow escape leaves you with a feeling of being in someone's shoes.

     After the drama that had taken place downstairs, my sister had raced upstairs to her room and I had followed her, leaving our parents alone. She was now laying stomach first on her bed, her cheek on one of the pillow, her arms underneath the pillow itself. She had her face away from me, staring at the wardrobe. I was behind her, sitting on the bed, stroking her hair.

"She doesn't hate you." She whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Okay... " I replied not knowing what to say.

"I'm trying... so hard to justify everything our parents do..." She said, sniffing and I ran my fingers across her hair. "... but I just hit a blind-spot."

"And we'll live with that blind-spot because they're parents and they cannot be judged by their children."

She scoffed, stirring in her position. "This holiday is going to be hell especially since we won't be going to grandpa's again."

     We were supposed to spend the one month holiday with our grandparents but they had called to cancel because they both had places to be. As the Attorney General, Grandma had to be at Asaba for three weeks. And Grandpa had a conference at Abuja, he would be away for two weeks. If they came back early, we would spend just one week with them.

"It's okay... " I laid down next to her, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "We'll be fine."

~*~*~*~

     I had spent the night with Bukky. We had talked, she told me about her incessant quarrels with Victor and how he always trolled her online and publicly bashed her pictures. We'd talked till we'd fallen asleep till the next day. I found it strange our mother hadn't woken us up for dinner but I honestly didn't feel like eating so I didn't let myself worry too much about It.

     Gently sitting up, I stared at my sister's sleeping form as I rubbed my knuckles against my eyes. She'd fallen asleep with her phone in her hand. I slowly pulled it from her hand and she stirred as it brushed her fingers. I pressed the power button and checked the time — it was 9:20. I quietly rolled off the bed with her phone in my hand. I sauntered to her dresser to help her charge her phone before advancing to the door.

     In the passageway, I noticed both my father and mother's doors were shut. It was so quiet. I was sure they were still in their respective rooms. I sauntered to my room, opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind me.

     Now sat on my bed, I fumbled around for my cell-phone, lifting the folds of the comforter until I found it. I double tapped the screen and my phone lit up. On the notification bar, I realised my data was still on and I had an SMS, missed call, Whatsapp message, and Whatsapp missed call. Drawing in my pattern, my Whatsapp popped up, mine and Best's chat to be precise. I remembered I had been chatting with him before going down to help my father with his food.

     Best had sent me a video yesterday and messages asking why I wasn't replying. There were also messages today, sent early in the morning. I tapped on the video so it could download, then I tapped it so I could watch it.

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