The Hidden Toxin ✔(#6 in the Our Side of The Dice Series)

Chapter 1: Curbing Delinquency

We are just broken pieces in the hands of the greatest.
~ Broken by Lecrae (Anomaly)

Ebun strode into the house from the back door, hoping she would be as invisible as the wind. The white shirt she wore was crinkled, with a brown footprint stained across the breast pocket to aggravate matters.

She knew the implication of getting her uniform smudged all too well.

Her facial appearance was the straw that broke the camel's back. Her hair had specks of sand, disfiguring its original texture and color.

The ziplock of her school backpack had gotten damaged. It took Cassandra nine days to get the bag done. She had misplaced some of the books that were inside even. More dangerously, there was a cut on her lower lip that traveled down to her chin.

It was very sharp and red with fresh, oozing blood. Ebun was just a twelve-year-old girl, and the only thing that was supposed to give her troubles, if any at all, were her quizzes and home-works but the only thing on her mind at that moment was how she'd let her guard loose for one second to have granted that bastard the chance to damage her lips in this manner.

At least once in every fortnight, she came home with either of the three: an unkempt hair, a loose button, or a tiny scratch on her arm. But never for once did she come home with an injury, even if she lost a fight.

Ebun was never the girl to lose. Agile and Wicked she was. But she had to portray herself as a timid, fragile last-born child of the family day in, day out. Especially once she stepped foot into the house.

But habit, they say, is like smoke. And smoke can indeed not be hidden.

Why else would she come home through the back door if she had nothing to hide or if she had a good, understandable reason ready to be given to her parents?

Right now, she hoped she would never have to think of a lie to tell. The process of telling a tale that had no affiliations with her truth was exhausting. They wouldn't understand.

All they would take from her tale was the fact that she got into a fight. And fights no matter what situation prompted it was 'bad.' Parents were selective listeners, so why try at all?

Thankful that she made it past the kitchen room without being seen, she held her bag firmly, covering the open spaces with her hands. She hurriedly walked in as noiselessly as she could towards the direction of her room.

Until she felt a hand rest on her shoulder, automatically, she made no further movements. The hand was wet on her shoulder, but the grip was firm. She knew who it was. She'd been caught.

Today wasn't her lucky day.

Slowly, she turned, her head fixed on her sandals that had lost their buckles as she now noticed. The sandals were new. Double trouble.

"What did you do at school today?" her mother's voice was arduous and seemingly tired of having to ask that question regularly, believing every single time that a day that would require her to ask that question again would never come.

The anger that came from that disappointment and dashed hopes reflected in her voice.

"emm...err...I..."

"ANSWER ME!" she screamed, then placed the tip of her index finger on the end of Ebun's chin, raising her daughter's face to create eye contact.

Unfortunately, there was a power supply. Somebody had illuminated the naturally dark passageway. It was bright enough to help Ebun's mother see the deep cut on her lip down to her chin. Ebun wished she'd put out the light while sneaking into the room.