𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

22°/ Chemistry

Thank you guys for 18k reads! We'll already be hitting 20k soon, omo, it's doing me like film!😩❤️

Today, I will update twice (You're Welcome ❤️) Expect the second update this evening!!❤️❤️

~DABI~

Saturday Morning started with a headache.

Figures, I barely had any sleep the previous night. What should I have expected to wake up to? Sunshine and Rainbows?

Another day for another set of ugly eye bags. We move. The walking dead we are.

I took a moment to look at the stupid, stupid reflection of stupid, stupid Dabeluchi in the mirror, and it took all my energy to not vomit on the deformed figure that stared right back at me, from the broken glass of the mirror.

I had to make sure everything I could conceal was properly concealed.

The scars on my back and thighs; the big long green shirt I wore did well to hide them well. It went down to half my thighs, and all I had to wear along side it were my ugly, old white-turned-milky shorts that were anything, but attractive.

Luckily, the shirt was too long and hiding the ugly thing under it.

I tried to make my hair more appealing, but after many struggles with my comb and the tangling on my hair that was unbearably painful to get rid of, I let the stupid rat bush on my head be.

I thought about putting on some make-up? If I had any. And, after brushing off the idea, I sought to figure out what to do with my wrists because they were still bruised from Last Night, and it hurt like a total bitch, but nothing I couldn't handle anyway. I was almost used to it.

Mum helped.

"This doesn't help," She told me as she bandaged my wrists perfectly. "And I'm talking from experience, Dabeluchi."

"Thank you," Was all response to what she said and her help.

Dad and Delilah had been out since last night, and she didn't let me help her with the dishes they had dumped in the Kitchen, as well as the waste and litter of food they had messed the entire living room and Masters Bedroom with, because she insisted Dance Class was more important for me.

She also went on to say she deliberately let me miss Dance Class yesterday, but she wasn't daring it today.

I didn't stay to the end of her elaboration, because I wasn't ready for her to remind me of how Dance is a treatment for my 'madness', because I knew it was not. The last thing I wanted was to act out with such a trigger. I loved Dance, it was not a medication to me. It was a hobby.

She didn't even seem bothered, she only muttered the gospel song 'Amazing Grace' as she mopped the corridor alone, and for a moment, I got angry..... At God.

I didn't understand why he would just sit there and let this kind of thing happen to her, to all of us. I didn't even understand why he wouldn't just make people like my Dad and Delilah mysteriously drop dead? Mum was left to endure everything all by herself, and till the day I die, I couldn't also understand for myself why my Dad was so into making her miserable? Why doesn't he just leave her and marry that whore, Delilah?

So many things about this home confused the shit out of me. It just didn't make sense.

The ride from Falade Realty Estate to Dynasty Afrique was about ten to fifteen minutes. A taxi, for some reason, would took longer to reach there, so worst case scenario, twenty minutes.