- Genre: Romance
- Status: Completed
- Language: English
- Author: Kabejja Daphine
Life is a beautiful thing.
I once believed that I swear by the gods.
Someone would think that by now I would be sad but not at all, I looked out the window then back at my psychiatrist who was staring at me without blinking.
She has been with me throughout these seven weeks ever since I was admitted, when the doctor realized that I was refusing treatment. She suggested I see a counselor or psychiatrist.
I never agreed but Mrs. Jones being my doctor thought it was the wise thing for me.
Brenda always came but I never spoke much, she had watched me lose weight until my clothes hung on me like curtains.
She also watched my pain along the journey.
I would have fought my battle with cancer, but every time I look into my past there’s nothing to fight for.
All I did were mistakes right, but what if there’s something I missed out that I didn’t realize?
What if all the reasons I have don’t make sense when I say them out loud?
Maybe it’s time for me to go through my life once again and rethink the little things that I missed to notice.
“Hi, Brenda,” I said softly and this time around the brunette smiled back, her eyes shone and lips curled into a smile.
I guess she didn’t expect me to give her a warm smile and cease my coldness towards her.
“You promised to tell me something.” I nodded at her statement, I was ready to narrate everything that happened in the past.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, memories flashed through my mind, most of them bringing a smile to my face.
And the words slipped off my tongue with tight emotions...
It all started on Saturday 19th of October 2013.
It was a cold windy night, and neither were the skimpy clothes helping.
I looked around the place, getting more disgusted by the looks coming my way, my arms wrapped around my body protectively.
I hated all my friends or certainly the people who I thought were my friends, for all this.
A dare had become the stupidest thing to me since it led me here.
I ran back into the locker room even at the protests of the manager of this damn place.
I wasn’t going to work as a stripper just to fulfill someone’s wish, I would rather pay a hundred dollars.
“You’re fired!” The manager snapped from behind me.
“Thank you.” I didn’t even bother turning to look at the woman in a dress that would fit a six-year-old.
I got into my dark green skirt that touched my feet and my red sweater, my bag and I technically ran out of the building.
I wondered how Mother Pauline would react if she saw me right now coming out of this place.
Mother Pauline was the owner of the orphanage where I grew up, it was Catholic-based.
It’s not that I miss the children I grew up with or the stony walls and the loud bells of the church but I missed the woman that treated me like a daughter.
About my parents, I was never told much about them.
Mother said that they had left me at the gates of the orphanage when I was three months old, without a name on a paper or a message like most people would do so Mother Pauline named me Amelia Rose.
My education was all through a benefactor, known as K.C.R.
I never understood how someone could be named that until I started to realize that they were initials.
I couldn’t figure out more about them but still he or she made me somebody and I’m thankful.
My speed increased as I walked to my apartment from the strippers club. It was already late and winds blew wildly making me tug at my sweater.
My heart drummed hard against my rib cage, my palms were sweating furiously.
I was naturally scared of the dark, it gave me the creeps.
I felt as if someone was watching me, I could have bet money that it was my imagination, that’s until I heard footsteps behind me.
The thought of being followed made my body shudder in fear.
I felt the urge to look behind and see but failed. I was now sweating furiously and my face flushed and I tried to walk faster.
As I passed by the alley that’s next to my apartment building a hand gripped my wrist pulling me into the darkness and, before I could scream a hand was placed tightly over my lips.
My whole body shook and sweat dropped on my forehead. Tears welled up in my eyes and a lump formed in my throat.
I tried my best to wiggle free from the tight but all my actions had no progress, I was going to lose my life on stupid ways.
“What is a silly girl like you doing in these areas of the city?” The deep voice made me freeze in my action and I raised my eyes.
I stared at the man that was holding me captive, he had brown tousled hair and chocolate orbs that were looking down at me watching my every action.
He looked a few years older than me, and his facial features were comfortable.
I remembered what he had said earlier but how could I answer with a hand over my lips.
I lowered my eyes to his palm on my lips and gladly he took the message and removed his hand.
“I live around here,” I said, and he stared at me like I had grown two heads and I understood.
Let me tell you about the slums that I live in.
It was the only place with cheap apartments that I could afford with the little money I get from working at the diner next to my school.
The question marks in his facial features disappeared.
I looked down at the connection of our skins, the way his hand still held my wrist wasn’t comforting at all, so I freed myself and looked over at him.
He was 6,4 or more feet tall, lean.
He looked like a college student like me, so why is he pulling girls into dark alleys?
I mean this didn’t seem like anything a normal person would do.
“Oh...” He said as if I had just answered then shifted uncomfortably for some reason I didn’t want to know.
“Then why are you walking alone this late this night, do you want to be raped?”
Now I remembered the footsteps that I had earlier, I wondered who that person was and why was he or she following me.
What if it was this person in front of me, and he was just trying to look innocent.
What was he like, a cop?
“Thank you,” I scoffed then, stepped out of the alley and galloped down the street towards my apartment building.
The two-story building stood tall, it looked like the owner had abandoned it years ago.
From outside, it may be okay but on the inside you could see the cracks, warning people like me who live here that soon it will fall.
I walked through the glass doors, this place had no elevator, so we always used the stairs and I’m okay with it.
When I arrived at my own one-roomed apartment, I unlocked the door, threw my bag on the floor and left my worn out flats on the mat by the door so I could finally breathe comfortably.
Loving my personal space was a habit, I felt my peace and comfort return, even my heart rate calmed down.
I walked to the refrigerator though I was sure it was completely empty except for the bottle of water.
Screwing the cap, I gulped half of its contents then moved over to the other end of the room, I fell on bed, with everything that had happened I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
I didn’t change or get under the covers, I just let my body rest with all the mosquito’s buzzing around me.
Anyway, I was already used to them.