My Mama Told Me Not To Worry

The Violin

It's a really busy night, I had just come back from my nightly music rehearsel. I played the violin for my church orchestra. Most of my fellow muscicians often told me I wasn't that good and that I needed to brush up on my skills. I always took their advice and geared it towards fueling my passion, the only thing I loved, music.

The house was silent when I got there, it was a simple two bedroom apartment with a kitchen and two bathrooms. I and my parents lived there. They didn't see the need to acquire a bigger apartment since they had only one child. Kicking off my sneakers, I walked barefooted into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Thankfully there was power supply tonight. Light wasn't regular where I was from.

I looked into the mirror and my tired face stared back at me through the mirrior. There was just one thing that stood out from my pretty much plain features and that was my lips. They were both full not I an unattractive way. It was what a pretty much called God's masterpiece. I finished up my brushing and used a warm towl to clean my face and my neck, I was to tired to have a bath, and besides the stress of going to fetch water wasn't something I was looking forward to.

I often felt that God may have blessed some people with pretty much plain features, figues and life, but there was always one thing that stood out about the person, and it was mostly good.

I crawled into my bed and buried myself between the sheets, there was no way I was going to sleep until my parents came back. So instead of sleeping, I let my mind wander back to the things I did during the day.
As usual I tighted the strings of my violin and played a new song. It was a habit I had developed as a kid. I had told God I was going to be doing something special for him every day and it happened to be me playing a new song to God every day and the most important part was that they were made up on the spot.

Today's music felt a whole lot different, it felt sad, then I knew something I might not like would happen in the day. I wrote the music down and kept the sheets in beetween the pages of my journal.

I had also gone to school to school that day, I was in my final year in the school and It was pretty much a drag. Everyday that I went to school, I always found faults with school's educational procedures. There was hardly any practical work, everything was based on IQ. And no matter how much I tried, I never ended up at the top. I woukld read and read, but it was pretty much the same. It made me feel bad of course, but I knew God had a plan for me and my IQ wasn't a major player in it.
I didn't have friends at my school, most of them were acquaintances, and they never really bothered to get to know me more. I was really okay with that. I wasn't too keen on sharing personal information.

After school closed, I headed straight to the church, it was the only place I really got to be myself with my violin, even if i wasn't really good at it, I still loved playing it .

The orchestrator wass a really cool person, and she was really empathetic. Her only failing was her need for everything to be perfect. Personally I believed, no one and nothing could ever be perfect, God made it so. The only person to ever be perfect was Jesus. But all in all , no one is perfect.

I still had the sad music I had played in the morning, playing on repeat in my mind, most often times, I felt it was one of the ways God used to speak to me. But still nothing had happened, even till now.

I sighed after recalling the day's events and stared at the wall clock, it was almost close to 10pm and they weren't still back. I was getting scared. I swung my self off the bed and walked towards the window, the gentle wind brushed against my grey night gown and against the curls that framed my face.
The direction my window faced wasn't much of a very nice view, all I woke up seeing everyday was the house opposite ours, which of course was more beautiful than ours, it had beautiful trees in it, it was a good view nonetheless although I still wished for better. I stared out , my gaze fixed on the gate to our house, I was getting worried.

Two hour passed and it was twelve midnight, still no sign of them. I couldn't bear waiting aymore. I picked up my phone and dialed both their numbers, but they both sent me to voicemail.. I quickly put on a pair of blue jeans, a sweater and worn out sneakers. I jogged out of the room trying to tie my laces and at the same time balance my phone to my ear as I tried the pastor's number.
I took out the keys to the house, turned off the lights and lockrd the doors. Then he picked up.
"Hello , Lydda, how are you?" he greeted. I tried nmot to let the fear in my voice show when I replied him on how fine I wasn't.
I reached the gate and bolted immediately I had set the locks in place.
"Hold on, i'll meet you at the police station, so we can file a missing persons report."

I felt myself growing nervous as I ran, different scenarios of what could have happened to them flashed across my mind. It was then the first tear slipped.
I offered a silent prayer to God to keep them safe wherever they and to bring them safely to me.. I reached the police startion in time and met the youth pastor of my church speaking with the police. He was a man in his mid 30's with a wife and two kids. He looked really tired.

"Uncle Ralph!" I ran towards him and hugged him and tears rolled down my cheeks more, I was really scared and I didn't want anything to happen to my parents.

"Lydie, don't worry everything's gonna be alright." He said looking down at me sadly.
At the age of 15 I knew everything wasn't going to be alright.

I was later told, albeit gently, what had happened.

My parents had been kidnapped by unknown people during the day their bodies were later found by fisher men in the area they were dumped. The part of it all that broke me and changed my view about people was the fact most of their organs had been removed, basically everybpart of their bodies were covered in blood, holes and sea organisms. I had screamed and screamed, angry tears sliding down my cheeks, they didn't deserve such a gruesome death. The only part of their body that was lefet intact were their heads.

Since that day, Lydda Roberts ceased to exist. A new person had taken over.