𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

49°/ Safe Place

If you've been reading The Things We Do by Donaldprince raise your handssss and drop your theories!!!!!!!!!!!

If you aren't; 😑

Make sure you do, sha. Donald is a superb writer!🔥

And for all those asking, no, Casper will not have a book of his own, and that is because you are going to learn all there is to learn about him in this very book, guys, so trust the process. And as for the whole 'IGBO SISTER 3' wahala from 'The Things We Do', I think this is where I'll come in and tell you to calm down sha😂♥️ It's a whole ass twisted tale you won't see coming, so relax, and don't let your assumptions over cloud you too much, only for you to realise you were attacking an innocent person all along. That's all I'll say sha.

And sorry, but the Crossover with 'The Things We Do' by Donaldprince. is going to be in the second book of TMBT and not this one, so we will see what is really going on, until that time. But I'm sure that Donald will do a good job at giving you enough info for now sha.

Go ahead to the chapter, guy!😌✨

~DABI~

The harsh, powerful sound of thunder slammed the zinc roof above me, and the stunning, unfriendly, sharp light from the zapping of lightening scared and scarred me, as I whimpered, squealed, and screamed, trembled in fear and shivered in cold, under the lonely, empty hut that I had chosen to secure myself in this angry thunderstorm.

I had been here for over five hours.

Hiding from the angry night and the terrible lashing out of mother nature against me, the furious, unforgiving lashing out that was supposed to be 'rain'.

And as the harsh rainfall spattered against the fancy hut top above me, making the angriest noises and screaming at me for what I had done, as the intense cold and furious breeze whooshed through me and attacked me, along with every other fibre of my being, as the night grew colder and darker, and meaner, I couldn't stop crying, and shivering, and crying, and crying, and crying, and crying, thinking all the while about what I had done and it's consequences, in the very midst of this heavy rainfall.

I burnt Delilah's face with iron.

And I left my Mum at home to face the consequences of my actions.

I've killed her.

I killed her.

I killed her.

I killed her.

You killed her.

"STOP!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, at no one in particular, as I pressed my hands against my ears, trying to muffle all the sniggering and taunting and back lashing that was going on in my head, but to no avail.

I should have left this place the first time I had the chance. I thought this place would be the best place to run to because it was the only place I knew on my own, but I didn't sit to think about what to do in the long run. And so many people had walked by me and seen me here and asked if there was a problem, and I said no to all, and I didn't need a saint to tell me that they were unconvinced, considering I was crying in a hut by a closed down eatery, shivering, all alone and scared, while in the midst of a horrid thunderstorm.