I've heard people say home is the place where your loved ones are, where you feel safe because you're surrounded with the people you trust. When the closing bell rings I watch my friends happily skip home in anticipation to be in the familiar space where they can just be themselves. They know that at the end of whatever day they have they can always go home and be with people who give them warmth, happiness and security.
I have a house not a home.
It feels empty, like nobody's around yet people are. It feels like walking into a place you don't feel comfortable in, like when I'm being forced to do something I have no idea about. The anxiousness, nervous turning of your stomach, tense feeling of making the wrong move. Can I ever call this place my home?
The sight I meet upon entering the living room is one I didn't expect. My father is sitting on the couch, a freshly prepared meal in front of him as he licks his fingers clean. Mom cooked egusi soup with semovita, my father's favorite meal. His eyes lit up when he swallowed a rolled up ball of the food into his mouth.
"Ah you're back. Your mother told me you went out for a walk, how was it?" My father asked once his gaze settled on me. It made me uneasy to see him smiling at me. At this point it feels wrong and my mind prepares me for anything that could happen as my body goes in defense mode.
I nodded. "It was okay."
Is it normal to be afraid of the man who helped give birth to you? My palms feel sweaty and my heart beats as though he's going to attack me. I've seen the things he can do, it's like something evil takes control of his mind.
Alcohol.
Although I don't sense the familiar scent of the filthy drink in the air I'm still careful of my behavior towards him.
"I'm going to my room," I say quickly in order for me to leave this weird situation but my lovely father has other plans and is urging me to take the seat beside him so we can talk. Catch up on missed time.
Here is a man who is supposed to be a father, who is to love his children and protect them, instead he has become the one they see in their nightmares. He has become the one who causes us so much pain. For once I wished that he would stop, just sit back and realize how his actions are affecting us. I wished that he would prioritize us first as his family.
God when?
I carefully sat beside him, fiddling with the loose hems of my shorts and looking at the blank television. I'm not ready to say anything to this man.
"When is your WAEC exam coming up?"
"We just started school," I tried to control the annoyance in my tone, "We've not even written mock exams."
He nodded his head. "Your Physics result last term wasn't good, you need to sit up. Do you want to do private lessons?"
He looked me in the eye, his red ones and my clear ones and I could see the sincerity in them. It tugged at my heart strings, almost making me cry. Why did he have to do this to us? One day he'll act as though he has your best interest at heart-it makes me pity him so much, then the next he's just someone unrecognizable.
"I can manage on my own," I looked down again, whispering the words so softly.
"Are you sure? And those books...past questions abi? You need to buy them, I'll transfer the money to your account soon, when I get the money."
I nodded.
"You know I want the best for you right?"
My heart cracked. That's what he always says but guess what, actions speak louder than words. Sometimes I hate myself for feeling any ounce of compassion for him. It makes me think that something is wrong with me or maybe it's because after everything he's still my father, and my family.
"I want the best for all my children."
It reminds me of my brother. Did he want the best for him then?
"I'm tired."
I didn't wait for him to say anything in response before sprinting straight to my room. I almost bumped into my mom on the staircase. She must have been watching the whole interaction. The tears in her eyes were a giveaway.
She opened her mouth to say something but stopped short.
Typical.
I shook my head, ignoring the pain in my chest. Entering my room was like shutting myself out of all the problems in my life. The moment I slammed the door it felt like I was free from all the turmoils I'm going through. I fell on my bed, burying my face into my pillows and started crying.
Are you out there?
Time seemed to move fast the moment I twisted my body on the bed. My blanket and pillows were on the floor while my body was sprawled all over the bed in an unladylike manner. I wiped away the crusts that had gathered in my eyes from my short nap, which might have not been so short looking at the darkness outside.
I wasn't in the mood to get up. My body was screaming for me to go back to sleep again but one glance at my bag and the thought of assignments waiting for me had me pushing my lazy body off the bed. I had a crazy idea to simply roll on the floor since my legs felt wobbly.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips when I slumped my body on my wooden chair. Papers, pens, pencils, highlighters, snack wrappers, glue and all sorts of materials were scattered on my desk. It's not in this tired state that I'm about to clean it so I just pushed everything to one corner. I took out a piece of paper and grabbed a marker.
Dear God,
It must be easy for you, hanging out in the heavens, far away from the mess that is earth. Why did you create me? Maybe if you never made me, placed me in my mother's womb or maybe if my parents never met, if my mother married a different man I wouldn't have existed. How wonderful would that be, to not exist.
Why can't I hate him? Why do I still have this tiny hope that with time everything will sort itself out? Is it because I see his good side? The people in my village would claim that an evil spirit has possessed him, and maybe they're not so far from the truth. What should I do? How do I cope? Do I go on living as if this is my normal? I was born to suffer in this family right?
I think about the fun moment I had today, if only for a little while before I had to ruin it. I'm sure he'll never want anything to do with me again. Just like the rest he's seen my true character and is probably planning on ways to stay away from me. But do you know what the crazy part is? It's the fact that I want him to not give up on me. I just want one person that'll fight for me no matter what I do.
Too much to ask for, I know.
Maybe you're out there but I can't see you. I'm still caught up in the darkness. I'm still doubting and questioning many things. Maybe I'm not worthy to even know you. Maybe the truth is I know you exist but it's better to act like you don't so I don't have anyone to blame or give me any false hope.
It's crazy right? Acting like you don't exist so I don't feel bad for not trying.
A lost soul,
Binta Sinobichukwu.
I'm probably the only teenager who rarely acknowledges her phone. If not the sudden urge to listen to music I wouldn't have touched it today. I find my Samsung sitting idly inside a mug with my other pens. The two major apps I use to listen to music are Spotify and boom play but since my Spotify subscription has expired I log into my boom play account and press the first song that catches my attention.
I leave the phone on my desk to go stand by the window. The wind brushing my face makes me smile, I feel so light whenever it does that. As if it's just passing by, gracing me with its soft touches. I find myself actually listening to the lyrics of the song.
I don't want to lay it on you
Feeling like I've been broken in two
Forget it all when you hold me
Something in the air shifts in the room
Take a look at that body
Take a look at that body I built
Take a look at your story
Oh I never abandoned you
Every time I ran from you you never thought to leave me stranded
Even when I wanted to you reminded me that you are constant
So now I look at you and say you're the one I've always always wanted
You're closer than my breath
You're closer than a friend I want you
I stare at the black car parked in the house opposite ours as the music plays in the background, thinking about how a song wants to make me cry again. It's funny how I feel like the lyrics are saying the things I find myself constantly thinking about. It's only in my room where I can be weak because no one is watching me.
I cleaned the tears that had started to fall from my face when my little sister opened the door after knocking. I don't turn to look at her, instead I cough and act like I'm doing something interesting by the window. "What do you want?"
"Are you alright?"
"If that's what you came for then you're wasting your time." I said, walking over to my desk. I'm suddenly arranging the scattered papers and piling all my notebooks and pens in their correct order, anything to keep me distracted from this conversation she wants to start.
Lael sighs, "I'm your sister you know? You don't have to be...be this tough person all the time. I can handle the truth."
I scoff.
"Dad wants to take us for a late night outing and I'm going. You coming?"
"What's the point? He's just doing this to get on our good side again, can't you see? Don't be so immature, Lael. Seriously."
"Well at least I'm not being a snob about it, okay? I'm not lucky like the others, I don't get to have this everyday so I'm not going to let you or anything else ruin the tiny moment I have to feel like this family isn't falling apart. I don't care what he does tomorrow. I'm going, you can stay here and cry all you want."
When she's gone it takes everything in me to not fall apart.
I get a notification beep from my phone showing me that I have a message on WhatsApp. It's the text that has me opening it or else I would've ignored it like the ninety nine plus message on the app.
_Hey there, it's Theresa :)
_From school
I quickly saved her number.
_Hi
She replies immediately.