Zara || A Nigerian Lesbian

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢

𝚈𝙰𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙽
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

There was a bloody mess on the floor, but I wasn't sure whose blood it was.

When Zara first came into my view, I didn't recognize her, she's too far away, and the way she walked was not right. She walked like a scarecrow, all lop-sided at that.

As she got close to me, my heart fell right through my chest. She's more black than ever. Her left eye was swollen, I knew she couldn't be seeing a thing out of that and she won't, for a while yet. Her face still had congealed blood, and her clothes were an utter mess.

She tried to say my name, her battered lips failing at the first syllable, but she didn't need to. I was already on my feet and running.

Before I could get to her, she fell to the ground. "Not again!" I screamed.

I woke up with my heart pounding. I looked around to see myself still in my bed. "It was a dream," I whispered. I was not going to let this happen a second time. No way.

The days had been going so fast, my business was busy, and that made it impossible for me to have time for myself or my daughter. Kelani! I hadn't seen her in three days, but we had exchanged texts, even though they were pretty short.

I sat up on my bed, blinked a few times to chase away the final traces of sleep and the nightmare. Swinging my legs out of bed, my feet on the cold tiled ground, I grabbed my rob.

Heading towards the kitchen for my morning coffee, I kept wondering if Zara was up. Was she upset with me and was hiding it? She didn't mention anything about the way I snapped. Even I knew I was way out of line to have reacted the way I did.

And now, I was busy covering it up with expensive gifts, "Yasmin didn't you learn from your past relationship?" I kept asking myself.

Kelani walked into the kitchen, looking all made up and dressed. "Hey," she said, grabbing a roll of bread from the bread bin.

The kitchen staff surrounded us, and I didn't want them to witness our fights. "Can you all leave, please. Not you, Kelani."

"Can we have something to eat or what?"

Taking a sip of the coffee that was already made, gave me a reason to calm my nerves and not stretch out my hand to slap some sense into her brain. "I can make you some noodles?"

"Whatever," she huffed and put back her AirPods.

Nothing prepared me for this relationship I had with my daughter. At first, I thought it was because of the divorce, but as things went on, it seemed way more than that. I had tried my best to get into her head and see what she was thinking, but she proved way more difficult than I imagined. "Can you turn off the music so we can talk while I prepare the noodles for you?"

"Did you say something?" She asked as she removed the AirPods on her left ear.

"Kelani, please turn the music off, so we can talk while I make your breakfast."

"There is nothing to talk about," she replied with an attitude removing the second AirPods.

"Don't you dare speak to me in that manner," I cautioned her.

She scoffed. "How?"

"Kelani I am your mother and you will -—"

"Will what?" She said, biting the apple she had taken from the basket. "Treat you with respect?"

"Don't I deserve that? Why do we have to fight about this over and over again?"

She pulled the stool and sat down. "I have no idea what it's like having a mother. Not to talk of a mother whom one should show respect."