INSECURITIES.

CHAPTER 33

Jasmine's POV.

"Thank you." I reply to the driver before making my way into the house.

I try to open the door but I successfully fail as the door is locked and I am not with my house key.

Shit.

I keep on knocking and pressing the door bell but nobody comes out.

I am already having a long day, so my mum not coming out to open the door isn't even funny in any way.
I decide to call her and she picks up after the third ring.

"Hello," She mutters sleepily.

Oh wow. So she was sleeping all along.

"I'm outside," I speak from the other end and I hear some shuffling in the background before she hangs up.

Soon enough, I hear the keys twitching in the door and she finally opens up.

"Did you forget that you sent me?" I ask, giving her a chiding look.

"Sorry, I felt sleepy. I didn't even know when I slept off." She replies.

I roll my eyes before finally speaking.

"I've given Mrs. Johnson the materials and she said you guys will talk about the price on phone."

"I told her I will be getting them on the 24th too." I quickly add.

"Okay that's cool. Hope you chose fine styles sha?" My mum asks, giving me a smirk.

I laugh before responding.

"Don't you trust me again? Although I'm not going to be putting them on on Christmas day sha. I don't know who in the world still wears Christmas clothes sef."

I say, adding air quotes to the word, Christmas.

"You should even be happy that you saw somebody that is willing to get you new clothes. During my time, you won't even see food to eat, talk less of Christmas clothes." My mum says.

She can never stop speaking about her time.

"Omo, mummy that was your time please. That is why you worked hard so your baby won't have to suffer like you right? You should be proud of yourself for a job well-done now."
I say, engulfing her in a hug and she laughs out loud by the way I am snuggling myself into her.

My mum and I were never like this.
I think it's safe to say that I hated her a lot 2 years ago. But it appears that a lot of things change as we grow older.
I felt like she hated me. Or maybe, I was adopted because my real mother was poor.
The way she treated me in the past was so cruel, words can't even explain the pain she caused me when I was around fifteen years of age.

She always told me that I was a possessed witch that needed deliverance and that I was a devil incarnate. All the harsh words you can possibly think about.

I cried Every. Fucking. Day. And night because of her. I felt like the loneliest person on earth. I felt so unloved. I felt    
really unappreciated. I would do my best to impress her by doing all the house chores but she would still pick one fault and use it to insult the living daylight out of me.

Let's not even talk about my Dad because. . . . !
That man fucked with my mental health badly. They both fucked with my mental health but he was worse than my mum.

I was always wondering why a parent would be so cruel to their only child.
I heard that the only children were always treated with love and care but mine was extremely different.