A Secondary School Survivor; Year One...

The Problem With Carnality

My mom is so going to kill me if she finds out I took my gloves, Duna thought as she dragged herself back to class. Her knuckles throbbed with the same intensity as the pounding of her racing heart. The stairs seemed to go on forever, but she didn't complain. She used the time to run over the possible methods by which her mom would roast her alive in her head and it felt like her conscience was pounding the back of her skull with a cudgel yelling, 'Stupid you! Stupid, stupid you!'  all the way.

This was one problem she never shared with anybody. Whenever she got too worked up, she'd go punch something. She'd give a face to her frustration and hit it. Hard. Each time, however, her punches were directed at stone walls or anything solid over and over until she felt she might break her fingers.

That was her way of venting. She'd never willingly hit a human being, but the wall's unresponsiveness would always remind her she was being stupid- again.

Finally, she got to her seat in class. Slowly, she peeled off her gloves and examined her hand with a wry smile; the skin on the back of her hand wasn't broken despite the stinging but it was an intense shade of red all over.

Well, I can move them, she thought, flexing her fingers and shrugged, note writing shouldn't be hard. Luckily for her, she didn't go all the way with her assault on the stone pillar she found at the back of the school building that the signs would be obvious in the coming week.

The siren was wailed just then, and Duna glanced at her watch. She rummaged around in her dining hall bag for her favorite fork and headed for the dining. No need for the whole bag if you have a fork right?

She got to the dining hall in time to fetch her table's cooler since she was the first of them to arrive. She lifted the lid when she got to her table and let the aroma of jollof spaghetti waft around her.

From the plain aroma, she could tell what it was going to taste like.

But she was hungry and the food was hot. Who's judging? Breakfast that morning had been a huge lump of yam and a flat fish stew in imbalanced proportions. Now that didn't stop anyone from eating, did it?

Now if only the boys weren't running late.

She waited two more minutes to see if the table head would show up but succumbed to her hunger; helping herself to a steaming plate. Sometime later, the boys started coming in trickles all hot and sweaty. The ones on her table came, helped themselves, and went off to sit with other guys. That was a relief. Ella appeared out of nowhere with two plates of food in hand and returned Duna's dumbstruck expression with a toothy grin. Duna noticed she winked at a boy standing with a notepad in hand near the other coolers. She also noticed a blush crept up his neck as he averted his gaze. 

Duna shook her head and resumed eating, pretending that she didn't notice Ella scrutinizing her knuckles. The moment Kemi joined the table, it was as though the entire dining hall went berserk. She was closely followed by Dave and he didn't look too happy with his entire squad cheering Kemi on. He probably lost a bet. Unfortunately, the noise didn't die down when they got their food. It only intensified as they arranged several plates of spaghetti on a table with Kemi on one end and a member of Dave's squad. 

They didn't get to begin their eating competition before the JSS3 students kicked them all out of the dining

Ella was dragged away by a senior for some reason after that. Duna watched again as everyone dispersed in groups of two's to their classes and once again the reality of being alone hit her like a sledgehammer. She didn't mind it so much today because of her bruised knuckles- which everyone was sure to have noticed- but thankfully no one asked.