A LITTLE LONG✔️ ( EDITING)

5: MY PEN PAL

CLIFF

Opening the package, I realized it wasn't something special like I'd imagined but rather a letter.

The letter was for aunty Foyin, the one person I loved and respected so much apart from my family, she had left two weeks ago without telling anyone of her whereabout. Going through her letter, I understood it was from her daughter back in Nigeria, my homeland too, somewhere we had never visited since we relocated to New York when I was five year old.

Though, it's known we are of Nigeria descent, I only had scattered memory of the place called Nigeria.

Being captivated by aunty Foyin's daughter's handwriting, yeah she's Priscilla, I wrote back to her explaining that her mother had left, and we knew nothing about her whereabout.

"Where is Clifford?" I heard Chloe, my younger sister's voice ask.

"He's probably upstairs," the guardian replied and before I knew it, Chloe had walked into my room and had jumped playfully on my bed.

"So how was it?"

Chloe pouted before replying gently, "We'll be going back next Wednesday for the eye glasses.

Placing the letter under my pillow, I said, "So you'll be using glasses now?"

"I think so, anyway what was that?", she pointed at my pillow and I smiled.

"Nothing in particular."

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

PRISS

Few days later, I got a letter from mum but after reading it, I realized it wasn't Mom but the son of a household she'd been working for. I was more than astonished when I realized the letter got to another person but I later found out Mom left there place few weeks back. Seeing he tried cheering me up, I decided to write back to him.

Writing back to him, we became pen pals and ever since then we wrote to each other every blessed day, sharing our thoughts and feelings with one another and swiftly, he became my confidant. I still had the money Mom had given me before she left and the one Grandma had given me, so all I spent this money on was the letters.

Something growingly endeared him to me and within a short period he turned out to be only person I could continually pour my heart to, the only person who had the power to relieve me of my pains.

"Keep shut! Slut, no wonder your biological mother abandoned you beside a gutter, you this stench creature," Feyikemi bellowed and spat on my face before hitting my face with a broom when my instinct was too slow to at least dodge it but then, I thank God it didn't get into my eyes.

Abii, how would I cope if I should lose my sight in addition to my helpless situation but for a fraction of a second, the broom graced my cheeks and forehead leaving in its trail, marks clearly imprinted to serve the purpose of disfiguring my face. I couldn't help but pray it would not be a permanent mark.

Going back into my room, tears trailed down my cheeks, feeling insulted, abused and deeply pained I started putting the blame on that wicked being, the woman who thrashed me rather than welcomed me. I blamed my birth, detested my life, oh ... hated life. This was how a typical day was for me, always receiving Feyikemi's daily doses of curses, always having 'a liver cut' each time I considered departing my solitary world of hurts, where no one, even dad didn't care an ounce.

I've alway wondered if Dad was possessed, if he was really the husband; the head of the family.
I could recall how sweet dad had been before Mom left, we were a perfect family then when I was very grateful to be blessed with such family, little did I know it was only for a while and not forever. Was it that Dad had actually pretended to be a patient and understanding man and that his true side was that of an hypocrite, a cheat and a shameless man.

To have cheated on Mom and put up with such a venomous person as this wicked, wretched witch of a wife was something I couldn't really fathom. Ha!, how on earth could he have been gushingly referring to Feyikemi as the best thing that have happened to his life, a life I could only described as miserable. Shameless is indeed an understatement.

And now, my life was obviously in disarray with a shattered dream and no future to hold, all I had to do was to pray, as mom taught me then that prayer is the sword of christians, that there's nothing God cannot do and that with prayer no problem is unsurmountable.

I quickly knelt down beside my bed with tear stained eyes praying fervently for God's answer to my life, seeking His intervention in my life, but then will He really hearken unto my supplications? After seeking his help for the past few months, without any sign of changes in my condition, I wondered if He hated me too? With fond memory of Mom, I decided not to allow anything to deter me but to continue with my prayers hoping in Him, that has all powers.

Are you guys feeling Priss's pain?
Don't be a silent reader and please share your opinions.