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Dedicated to slothpaced for reading and voting for this story and being amazing. I truly appreciate that you did :) ❤

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11:59pm
Wednesday, 7th of June 2017


To the woman who birthed me,

I woke up really late this morning and you were still at home.

I heard voices coming from your room and I knew the both of you were at it again.

"Where were you yesterday evening?" I heard your husband's voice first as I tiptoed my way to your bedroom door.

"I've already told you, I was at work. Where else was I supposed to be?"

"I saw you at that small restaurant close to your office with a man. Is it who you're sleeping with now?"

"Are you following me everywhere now?"

"Answer the damn question!" he shouted, making me flinch behind the door.

"He's a colleague at the office for heaven's sake."

"So you're sleeping around with your coworkers? Is that why you got suspended?"

"Jesus Bayo. What do you fucking want from me?!"

"A goddamned explanation! I am your husband and I have the right to know whatever shit you're doing!" I could hear his anger reverberating through every word.

"Can't I have some peace for one day in this house?!"

"This is my house and there will be peace only when I say so!"

"Then I'll go! I'll leave this stupid house for you!" your shrill voice impaled my ears.

"You will leave and go where? To your boyfriend's house?!"

"Bayo please, leave me alone!"

"An ungrateful slut." I heard him clap his hands in mockery "That's what you are, I brought you to my house and took good care of you and this is how you want to pay me back?"

"I said leave me alone!" your voice was hoarse and cracked from screaming.

I wanted to turn the door handle and come in there to just hit him with something.

Before I could finish thinking about it, the door swung open and I froze like a deer caught in headlights. You dragged me by hand to my room, locking the door behind us.

"Open the damn door!" He pounded on my door, the hinges rattled with every hit and my stomach sank.

You sat in my bed, hugging your legs together with your arms and rested your head on your knees as the door shook at his fury.

After a few minutes we heard him grunt in anger as he climbed down the stairs and drove off.

I looked from the door back to you curled up on my bed.

"Mum what's going on?"

You looked up and inhaled deeply, your chest rose as if filled with everything you had to say, everything you were hiding inside.

Instead you stood up and gave a failed attempt of a smile. "It's nothing Mola, don't worry."

Before I could say anything you touched my shoulder, gave me one last weak smile and went to your room.

Just like that, everything was supposedly back to normal.

After more than an hour of wondering what I was supposed to do, I heard your heels disrupt the silence against the tiled floor.

I rushed out the door to see you dressed in jeans and a silky yellow blouse.

"Are you going out too?"

You nodded. "I'll be back soon. Take care of yourself alright?"

I hummed an answer as you walked down the stairs gracefully, as if nothing happened an hour ago.

You drove off and I was left alone once again in the dark.

You said you'll be back and it's almost midnight and you haven't come home yet.

He came back not too long ago and asked if you were at home, after I told him you weren't he went straight to his room and slammed the door shut.

What's going on? And why do I feel like the only one in the dark?

I need to know what's going on ma, if what he said in your room held any truth.

This ignorance isn't bliss, it's heart wrenching because everything seems to be happening in front of my eyes but yet I feel so sidelined.

If something's going on, why can't you tell me? If Margaret did, why can't you trust me enough to let me know?

Your Forgotten,
Mola.

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