𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘒 𝘓𝘈𝘛𝘌𝘙
𝘔 𝘈 𝘓 𝘐 𝘘 𝘜 𝘐
Bredda if dah girl here open her mouth again, me ago kunk her right inah here forehead.
On God!
She getting too damn comfortable.
I was diligently working on assignments for both the school out here and the one in California, managing the workload from two different educational institutions.
Yeah, me anuh cruff.
La-Tania completed her work before me, given that I had a larger workload, and now she's getting on my nerves by being annoying.
Woman yuh want, woman yuh get.
Mmcht.
We used Google Classroom and Meet for school this week to prioritize her safety.
My father's workers were still investigating the details of her kidnapping.
I involuntarily sighed in irritation as she started singing suddenly.
"Lord me a beg yuh this. Please nuh make them catch me with ah empty clip, show me who genuine," she sang.
And hear wah she a sing too.
That me a say. Me nuh know why me make she hear him song them enuh.
"Yo ass annoying," I stated to her, irritated
She giggled and quickly covered her mouth in response.
She asked with curiosity, "What's an empty clip?" referring to the specific line in the song where she was singing.
"How yuh must a sing song and you nuh know wah the things them inah the song mean?" I asked her.
"Because..." she shrugged. "Just tell me what it mean."
Me naah tell her not a thing.
"Ion know," I lied and went back to my work, focusing my attention on my MacBook screen.
"You're lying," she pouted, catching onto my deception.
Man a professional liad enuh. Shoulda study law.
"Me doh know wah it mean fi real," I said to her, furrowing my brows in annoyance.
"And stop annoy me make me do me work in peace," I continued, focusing intently on my work.
"Whatever," she mumbled, expressing her dismissal with a hint of frustration.
From other day her attitude get stink yuh see.
Soon pinch her pan her raas lip.
I focused on my tasks diligently while she remained engrossed in her phone.
Minutes later, she suddenly screamed without any apparent reason, startling me.
With a sigh, I shifted my focus to her, one hand resting on my forehead in a gesture of mild exasperation.
With a serious expression, I asked her, "Do you have ADHD?" trying to understand the reason behind her sudden actions.
Cause ah affi a mad philly this.
Me think me did mad but she worst than me. Serious thing.
"I don't know, maybe," she sounded genuinely uncertain yet somewhat convinced.
"My parents didn't pay attention to me as a child, so I probably have a lot of things that I don't know about," she added with a touch of introspection.
Her parents deserved to be placed in a yard filled with some hungry pitbull.
Man dawk yuh fret.
Her sister did tell me say she have borderline personality disorder or something like that. I was yet to research it.
Maa go ask her though.
Youth... buil.
"Yaav waah personality disorder?" I asked her, exploring the possibility with curiosity.
"Not that I know of," she responded. "I just have social anxiety, and I'm fearful of people because people are weird," she explained, sharing her perspective.
So her stepsister a liad then?
Obviously.
Me ago do my own research.
"Oh," I nodded in understanding, acknowledging her explanation.
"What are you trying to say? Me clingy?" she raised a brow, seeking clarification with a hint of skepticism in her expression.
Jah know.
Why woman stay so? A put words inah man mouth.
"Me never say that enuh La-Tania," I responded.
"Me just ask you a question," I clarified, emphasizing that my intention was not to label her as clingy.
"Well, I feel offended," she declared, turning her back to me in response to the perceived offense.
Dah girl here.
Kiss me teeth.
"That's why you a suffer from NSS," she retorted, turning back around and rolling her eyes, dismissing my comment with a touch of sarcasm.
I chuckled. "Wah name so?" I asked, curious about the term she used.
"The something wah you a suffer from," she replied, maintaining a playful yet teasing tone.
She said that already enuh.
"So, what does the acronym mean?" I asked, raising a brow with curiosity.
"No Sex Syndrome," she giggled, providing a lighthearted explanation for the acronym.
Kiss me teeth.
Ain't no way she just made that up.
She find it funny say she naah run eh buff pan man.
Hope she find it funnier when me nuh sleep in here with her tonight.
Hear the man.
"Naah wild yuh," I brought my eyes back to my laptop screen and my fingers hovered over the keys.
"Gwaan with your NSS," she laughed loudly, playfully embracing the term and finding humor in the situation.
Right now man cyaa see outta one a me yeye them, me nostril them naah work good, my ears pan the right side naah hear nothing outta and the left side a me body paralyzed the way how me short a f-k to p-syclaat.
All because this girl fraid me breed her.
Like... it ago happen sooner or later enuh cause me naah use no boots and me nuh business.
That's why the girl a make yuh starve.
She must glad say me rate her cause I'd be somewhere getting topped while she in here sleeping.
Maa behave myself though cause nuh gyal test me woman.
Yeah, no.
"Yuh nuh see me body a malfunction?" I asked her. "A lack of sex cause that enuh. Right now me cyaa hardly see you or hear yuh."
"Chile." She was full on laughing.
Everything she laugh fah.
"A serious thing enuh," I commented, glancing at her with a smile on my face.
"Hush baby," she giggled. "If you weren't trying to get me pregnant, I would've felt sorry for you," she teased with a playful tone.
"Aight, I ain't tryna get you pregnant," I lied, testing the waters to see if she would change her mind or react differently.
"You're definitely lying, and I'm still not doing it. Never doing it again, as a matter of fact, it hot," she giggled, maintaining her decision with a touch of humor.
"Hear you," I chuckled.
"Do your work," she urged. "Cause it look like the NSS really a get to you," she commented, playfully referencing our earlier conversation.
"It is getting to me," I replied to her while typing something on my keyboard. "That me did a try tell you," I confirmed.
"You play too much," she laughed, laying on the couch, enjoying the playful exchange.
Girl here a drama.
Smiling, I submitted a graded piece and seamlessly transitioned to the next assignment.
"Maliqui," I heard my mom's angry voice approaching the room, signaling a potential confrontation.
Jah Jah.
Awah gwaan now.
"What did you do?" La-Tania asked me, sitting up, curious about the potential cause of my mom's anger.
"I don't know," I shrugged, uncertain about the cause of my mom's anger.
She stepped inside the room, the new helper not too far behind her, her expression radiating anger, setting a tense atmosphere.
"You a big man?" She asked me, her question laced with a mix of frustration and disappointment.
I mean, I do act like one but me naah say that cause a serious time now.
Dah youth yah. Yuh fi gwaan better enuh.
I remained silent, recognizing that it was likely a rhetorical question, and waited for her to express her concerns.
Cause when she start cuss she naah done fi now enuh man and me cyaa bother with the bagga noise enuh.
"How old are you?" she asked me, seeking information with a stern tone although she knew my age because a she push me out.
Should I answer her or should I keep silent?
I chose the latter.
"You me a talk to!" she raised her voice, demanding my attention with an assertive tone that reverberated through the room.
Choosing peace, I responded by telling her that I was 17, hoping that providing my age would help address her concerns and facilitate a more constructive conversation.
"So wah this?" She stretched her hand out, revealing a half-smoked spliff that was most likely mine, prompting an explanation for the unexpected discovery.
Jah know.
La-Tania and I exchanged eye contact, realizing that we had discussed this situation just the other day.
She had warned me that my mom would find out sooner or later, and now the anticipated moment had arrived.
Goat mouth she have dawg.
"Maliqui, what's this doing in your shorts pocket?" she asked, pressing for an explanation since I hadn't initially responded.
It just magically appeared in there.
Yuh know... abracadabra.
Youth yah a supm else.
My eyes shifted to the helper, and it became evident that she was the one who discovered the half-smoked spliff tail while washing and subsequently showed it to my mom.
Bet me make she affi leff her work?
Aight bet.
Cause why she so fucking nuff.
See and blind, hear and deaf man.
Heaving a sigh, I met my mother's angry eyes, mentally preparing myself to fabricate a story in an attempt to divert her displeasure.
Professional liad.
If you thought I was going to be honest you thought wrong.
Never admit to a word wah she say!
"Anuh mine," I answered her, sticking to my decision to deny ownership of the discovered item.
That is it me g.
"So how it reach inah yuh shorts pocket?" she inquired, pushing for an explanation on how the item ended up in my shorts pocket.
It magically appeared in there.
I shrugged in response, offering no explanation for how the item ended up in my shorts pocket.
"Me look like idiot likkle bwoy?" she asked, expressing her frustration at the perceived lack of honesty in my response.
If the shoe fits...
I shrugged again, maintaining my nonchalant demeanor in response to her question.
If yuh get a box now, me wouldn't sorry fi yuh.
"Maliqui, me a talk to yuh! Open yuh mouth and chat. The same mouth wah yuh did a use smoke this," she stated firmly, insisting that I explain myself.
Mommy gwaan like she nuh know say man a liad.
"Tell yuh already say anuh mine enuh mommy," I lied. "Me nuh smoke," I added, maintaining the deception by denying any involvement.
If me admit this in here today, supm wrong.
"If you nuh nuh smoke, explain how it reach inah yuh pocket then," she demanded, pressing for an explanation.
Me Issa magician.
"Mommy, yuh ever smell weed pan me or me clothes them yet?" I attempted to deceive her, deflecting by questioning her previous observations.
Lawyer Johnson enuh man.
"That doesn't provide an explanation for this," she held her ground, not buying into my story and seeking a more convincing response.
La-Tania was pointing to something behind me while whispering, and I furrowed my brows, attempting to read her lips and decipher what she was saying, sensing a potential distraction or signal.
What the f-k she a try say?
Never tell nobody say me know dumb signal enuh.
"Wah?" I asked her, catching mom's attention, attempting to divert the focus from the current situation.
My mom turned to look at her, and she quickly shut her mouth, pretending she wasn't saying anything, creating an awkward pause in the room.
"Latty," my mom called her, prompting La-Tania's attention.
"Yes, Ms. Jaidah?" she answered awkwardly, sensing the tension in the room.
She proper.
"Does MJ smoke?" my mom asked her. "And don't lie for him," she added, seeking confirmation from La-Tania.
She, being a Christian, my mom expected her to tell the truth, while I anticipated her to potentially lie for me.
If she ever inform...
She looked between us both, sensing the conflicting expectations and the uncomfortable atmosphere in the room.
If she ever say yes, the kunk wah ago reach her inah her big forehead nuh stop here so.
Limit nuh likkle boy.
"Ummm... not that I know of," she answered, looking confused even though she was lying. "I've never seen him do it before," she added, attempting to navigate the delicate situation.
A that's why man rate her.
I blew her a kiss, taking advantage of my mom's turned back to express a non-verbal thank you for attempting to cover for me.
"If me deh round her everyday and she never see me smoke..." I mumbled, attempting to add weight to La-Tania's statement and maintain the deception.
My mom turned her body back to face me, her expression indicating she wasn't fully convinced by the discussion.
Jaidah just hard fi deal with.
"I still believe it's yours," she stated. "I just want more proo-" she paused, leaving the sentence unfinished.
She walked behind me and retrieved a ziplock bag filled with all my smoke items, exposing the evidence that further supported her suspicions.
Jah know!
Me cyaa win don't it.
Kiss me teeth.
"Maliqui, you nuh smoke?" she questioned, her tone holding a mix of disappointment and concern as she confronted me with the collected evidence.
I was about to deny it, but she spoke up, interrupting any potential denial or explanation I might have offered.
"The lighter literally has your name on it, so don't even say a nuh yours," she stated, pointing out a piece of incriminating evidence that left little room for denial.
I plead the fifth.
A serious time now.
"Jah Jah," I muttered, rubbing my hands over my face, realizing the depth of the evidence against me.
"When yuh start smoke?" she asked me. "How long now?" she inquired, seeking details about the duration of my involvement.
That's a really good question.
Me look like me a go answer honestly?
"Other day," I mumbled lowly, another lie escaping my lips as I tried to downplay the extent of my actions.
Heaven naah see me.
Honestly, I've been smoking since I was 15.
"What's 'other day' to you? Months? Weeks? Days?" she questioned, seeking a more specific timeframe.
"Weeks, 'bout three or four," I responded, providing a somewhat vague but more detailed timeframe.
She sighed, likely processing the information and the reality of the situation.
She mussi nuh remember say she pregnant.
"You couldn't keep yuh smoking outta me house?" she asked, expressing disappointment and frustration at the intrusion of smoking into her home.
I stayed silent, recognizing that my actions had caused disappointment and unsure of how to respond in that moment.
Cyaa even make she know say daddy know.
But if she ask him, he was most likely going to say no else a woulda problem.
"What caused you to start smoking?" she asked me. "Yuh stress or something?" Her question delved into the potential reasons behind my decision to start smoking.
I shook my head, indicating that stress might not have been the primary reason for my decision to start smoking.
I really didn't know why I started smoking. Perhaps I was influenced by the older men around me, and they didn't stop me when they found out I did.
"So yuh nuh stress or nothing. You just took up smoking on your self because you felt like it?" she questioned.
"Yah," I responded, confirming that my decision to start smoking wasn't driven by stress but rather a personal choice.
My response seemed to anger her, possibly because she was expecting a more concrete reason or explanation for my choice to start smoking.
She stretched her hands out. "Car keys now," she demanded, signaling a form of discipline or consequence for my actions.
A joke thing she a pan cause that naah go stop me from touch road.
At all me g!
I got up from my seat, retrieved both car keys, and stretched them to her, acknowledging her request.
She grabbed them from my hand, a firm and tangible sign of the repercussions for my actions.
"Weh di Porsche key?" she asked, seeing that I only gave her two keys.
"Mobay."
"Unuh make me feel like the worst damn mother pan the planet," she hissed, expressing the emotional weight of the situation and the disappointment she felt.
How that come in?
She said 'unuh.'
Awah me bad breed siblings them do now?
Nuh talk bout nobody bad breed.
I stretched my hand out to put it around her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but she shrugged me off, signaling her unwillingness to accept consolation at that moment.
"Oopsie," I heard La-Tania mumble.
Dah girl here.
"Don't touch me," my mom said. "Matter a fact don't talk to me. We inah malice right now," she declared, setting clear boundaries as a result of the conflict.
Jah know.
With that, she turned and walked out of the room.
I glared at the informer helper lady as she turned and followed behind my mom, feeling a sense of resentment towards her role in escalating the situation.
Not one more day she naah stay in here.
When they left the room, La-Tania got up from her seat and came where I was, placing herself down on my lap, trying to lighten the mood in the midst of the tension.
"I was trying to show you the ziplock bag," she said to me. "But yuh slow," she added, explaining her attempt to warn me about the evidence earlier.
Me never tell a soul say me can read lips.
"Oh," I nodded in realization, then laid my head in the space between her breast, finding comfort in her presence amid the aftermath of the confrontation.
I lifted my head from her chest and picked up my phone.
Going to my grandfather's chat, I texted him to 'make a car reach a me foot.'
Cause me nuh know why mommy think say taking my car keys ago make me stay inah the house or make me stop smoke.
▫️
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▫️
EARLIER THAT DAY
𝘔𝘈𝘓𝘐𝘘𝘜𝘈
𝟻:𝟺𝟷 ᴀᴍ
@ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦
"Mami?" I was being shaken awake, the hazy remnants of a troubled dream slowly dissipating.
Me cyaa bother enuh.
"Hmm?" I groaned, opening my eyes halfway, still caught in the drowsiness of waking up.
He was standing over me, fully dressed as if he was ready to go.
"Maa cut enuh," he said to me.
"What time is it?" I asked him, my voice still laced with traces of sleep.
"Almost six o'clock," he replied, emphasizing the need to get going.
He had to leave before we got caught sneaking around.
"Later," I said to him, already feeling the pull of drowsiness as I contemplated going back to sleep.
"So gimme a kiss nuh badman," he held onto my chin, a brief and affectionate moment before his departure.
Why he wanna kiss me like he wanna taste my morning breath and shit?
"No," I pushed his hands off, realizing my teeth weren't brushed yet, adding a practical reason to my rejection of the kiss.
"Come nuh," he urged. "Suppose me crash and dead pan me way," he added, using a touch of humor to convince me to kiss him before his departure.
This child.
"Why would you say that?" I frowned, a mixture of concern and disapproval in my expression at the morbid suggestion.
Everyday him come with him f-kry!
"Joke me a make mami," he chuckled. "Gimme a kiss before me cut nuh," he continued, blending humor with a request for a farewell kiss.
Him love run some serious joke.
"I'm not kissing you," I giggled. "My teeth not brushed as yet," I added, lightening the mood with a practical reason for declining the kiss.
"So wah?" he asked, seemingly unperturbed by the unbrushed teeth and still playfully pushing for the kiss.
Him stubborn. I liked it though.
"Suppose me mouth stink sir?" I asked him with a laugh, introducing humor into the situation while maintaining my reluctance for the kiss.
"Me nuh business," he leaned down, expressing a carefree attitude and determination to get the kiss despite the playful banter.
Holding on to my chin firmly, he captured my lips into a kiss, and I giggled, kissing him back, momentarily succumbing to the affectionate moment.
Yam fi the light skin youth.
I playfully wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down onto me, intensifying the moment with a touch of spontaneity and affection.
Love out.
Real bad!
I couldn't tell when last I gave one of my girlfriends the amount of attention that I gave him.
"Easy," he chuckled and pulled away.
"Maa cut now," he met my eyes. "Ago make yuh know when me reach," he assured, conveying his intention to keep in touch after leaving.
Because he knew once me cyaa get his phone a problem.
"Love me?" I asked him with a smile, seeking reassurance in the warmth of the moment.
"Like life mami," he pecked my cheek, emphasizing the depth of his feelings.
"Okay," I smiled, and he stood up straight, signaling the end of our brief yet affectionate exchange.
"You a go a school?" I asked him, understanding his tendency to skip if he didn't feel like going.
"Yeah. Yaaw go?" he responded, reciprocating the inquiry about my plans for the day.
"Yeah, come for me lunchtime," I reminded him.
"Me know man," he responded. "Later," he said, acknowledging the plans and signaling his departure.
I nodded, and he headed towards the door, leaving the room and carrying with him the shared moments and playful exchanges of the morning.
"Drive safe," I called after him, a final reminder of care before he left.
"Don't be surprised if yuh hear say me crash and dead," he retorted, playfully echoing the earlier joke.
I hissed my teeth and didn't respond, not finding it funny.
Play too much man.
As he left, I rolled over on the bed and went back to sleep, allowing the tranquility of slumber to envelop me once again.
▫️▫️▫️
Almost an hour later, I woke up and began tidying the room.
I didn't normally leave it messy before going to my personal room, so the act of tidying became a familiar part of my daily routine.
When I was finished, I turned the light off and exited the room, leaving it in a state of order and neatness, ready for the rest of the day.
As soon as I exited the room, I found my mom in the middle of the guest house, staring at me with her hands folded across her chest, her expression carrying a mix of disapproval and scrutiny.
Oh shit.
I never saw this coming.
"Wah you a do in here?" she asked me, her tone carrying a mixture of curiosity and suspicion as she inquired about my activities in the guest house.
"Umm... me sleep in here," I answered her, offering a straightforward.
"It's obvious," she stated. "Weh yuh sleep in here fah? A that me ah ask yuh," she clarified, seeking a more specific explanation for my choice to sleep in the guest house.
What should I say?
Me nuh like tell lie enuh.
But if I told the truth I would get in trouble, especially if she was going to tell daddy.
What to do?
"I slept in here because I didn't want to sleep in my room," I lied, introducing a fabricated reason for my decision, potentially attempting to avoid a more complex explanation.
"So you leave your comfortable room fi sleep inah the guest house," she raised a brow. "Me look like idiot," she expressed a mix of disbelief and frustration, questioning the validity of my explanation.
Yeah, fi sleep more comfortable with man.
"Yeah," I nodded, then covered my mouth when I realized.
"Wah yuh sleep in here fah?" she asked. "You and somebody sleep in here," she pressed, sensing that there might be more to the situation than I was letting on.
Me sorry but me never did go tell the truth.
"No," I shook my head, maintaining the denial despite her suspicion.
"Me see waah guy come from out here this morning," the helper said to her, potentially adding fuel to the suspicion.
Wah happen to dah stinking mouth woman here.
"That's cap," I rolled my eyes.
"Ain't nobody left here this morning," I asserted, attempting to dismiss the helper's claim and maintain the facade.
She naah work here no longer than today.
Old chatterbox.
"So the lady a tell lie pan yuh?" Mommy asked me, seeking clarification and pressing for the truth in the face of conflicting information.
"Yeah," I answered, maintaining the false narrative and continuing the attempt to cover up the real reason behind my stay in the guest house.
Kiss me teeth.
"Nobody nuh sleep in here with you Maliqua?" Mommy asked me, directly addressing the core of her suspicion and seeking a clear answer.
"No mommy," I stood my ground, maintaining the denial despite the growing tension in the conversation.
"Yuh want me call yuh father fi come down here?" she asked, recognizing the potential impact of involving him given his stricter approach.
Nuh bother with that.
My heartbeat accelerated out of nervousness, the prospect of involving my father adding a layer of anxiety to the already tense situation.
I was afraid of my dad, acknowledging the fear that his stricter demeanor instilled in me.
Eh eh. Sorry fi we condition.
"No," I answered her, resisting the idea of involving my father and attempting to navigate the situation without escalating it further.
I was afraid to tell her the truth since she always threatened to send us away to a different country, the fear of such consequences influencing my decision to maintain the false narrative.
Afghanistan we ago gyallie.
Singapore wouldn't so bad.
"Yuh bring man inah me house?" she asked me, cutting through the layers of deception and directly addressing the possibility of someone else being in the guest house.
Lawd a mercy.
I stayed silent, and my eyes went to the floor, avoiding direct eye contact as a response to the uncomfortable question.
A never inah the house me bring him, ah inah the guest house.
Lil gyal... buil man.
Yeah, a serious time now.
"Maliqua a you me a talk to enuh," mommy demanded an answer, emphasizing the need for me to provide a clear response to her question.
I was afraid to say yes, knowing that if I did, she would likely ask who it was, adding another layer of complexity to the situation.
It would even be worse if she told daddy, recognizing the potential escalation and harsher consequences if my father became involved.
Better start talk before Killa come down here.
Me naah start talk enuh. Chile, I ain't saying shit.
She wrapped her manicured hand around my arm and began pulling me behind her, a physical gesture signifying her control over the situation and a directive for me to follow.
Where we going?
She exited the guest house, and we headed in the direction of the security's office, the trajectory of our movement indicating a shift towards a more official and possibly confrontational resolution.
Bombo.
What to do?
Stepping inside, she let my hand go, and the head security, Greg, glanced at us, perhaps anticipating an explanation or request for assistance.
"Can see last night and this morning camera footage please?" Mommy asked him. "I want the one for the guest house to be exact," she requested, introducing the security footage as a means to uncover the truth.
"Mommy," I mumbled, expressing a sense of discomfort and apprehension as she requested the security footage.
"Me nuh waah hear it," she cut me off, making it clear that she was not open to hearing any objections or explanations at that moment.
"Umm..." Greg scratched his head and looked between us, appearing unsure about how to proceed in response to the request for security footage.
He knew who was here with me, hence he was holding back from assisting my mom, an unspoken understanding or perhaps reluctance to disclose certain information.
Sigh.
He could lose his job if my parents realized he kept this from them, adding a layer of potential consequence for his involvement or lack thereof in the situation.
"Like say if me nuh have unuh at gun point unuh cyaa do wah me ask unuh fi do!" She said to him loudly. "Make me see the footage or yuh come outta this and go find a next job."
She asserted her authority, using strong language to emphasize the urgency of her request and the potential consequences if it wasn't fulfilled.
Make Jaidah dawk up the place.
"My apologies," he said to her and then gave me a sad smile before moving to his computer systems, a mix of compliance and sympathy evident in his actions.
My fingers trembled at the thought of my mom finding out, a tangible sign of the anxiety and fear coursing through me in that moment.
Suppose she send me away?
Greg began typing away on his keyboard and clicking different keys, navigating the computer systems to access the requested security footage.
Soon enough, the screen came up big, showing the footage of last night when we were entering the guest house, the visual evidence about to reveal the truth of the situation.
His hands around my waist as I stood in front of him, laughing like a maniac, the captured moment on the screen unfolding as a testament to the reality my mom was about to confront.
Derrick is gone!
I covered my face out of embarrassment when it showed us making out, the intimate scene unfolding on the screen, adding another layer of discomfort to the situation.
"How bad of a mom am I that I didn't notice this?" I heard my mom's voice break, a hint of emotional turmoil in her words as she grappled with the revelation unfolding before her.
I uncovered my face as she stared at the screen in disappointment, bracing myself for the impact of her reaction.
"Make me see this morning footage," she ordered Greg, extending her demand to review the additional footage
He found it and showed it to her, the continuation of the footage potentially providing more context to the events of the morning.
He left the house, key swinging on his finger, and a smile on his face, the visual evidence capturing the departure of the individual involved.
"Feel like me naah do a good parenting job cause wah this?" She glanced at me, expressing self-doubt and questioning her effectiveness as a parent in light of the situation.
I looked away, unable to meet her gaze, a mix of shame and discomfort evident in my avoidance.
"How long as this been going on for?" she asked me, seeking information to understand the duration and extent of the situation.
"Since the summer holidays," I was finally truthful about something, admitting to the duration of the situation and providing an honest answer to my mom's question.
"If your father ever find out about this," she sighed, expressing concern about the potential consequences of involving my father in the situation.
"You're not mad?" I asked, observing her calm demeanor, surprised by the lack of an immediate angry reaction.
"Of course I'm mad," she responded.
"I was sleeping in the same bed with your dad at your age, and I feel bad that you're following in my footsteps," revealing a personal connection to the situation and expressing regret about the similarities between our experiences.
I had no idea, realizing the depth of my mom's experiences and the impact they have on her reaction to my actions.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, recognizing the need to express remorse for my actions and their impact on my mom.
"Yeah, we need to talk," she said, heading towards the door to exit, and I followed behind her, ready for the conversation ahead.
***
The apple nuh fall far from the tree💀.