Maybe, maybe not

Chapter 5

She's looking at me like I've grown two heads. I can imagine the last thing she expected was for me to find this funny.

"Daniella" she calls
I stop laughing and reality begins to set.

.

It happened ten years ago when I was about concluding my secondary school. I was the only one who wasn't home because I attended a boarding school in a different city. They had told me through text.
-mum left-
Just those two words.

I didn't really understand the whole situation till I came back home for the session's break.

My mother was pregnant for another man and he had proposed to marry her. And my married mother had accepted his proposal, left her three children and husband, remarried and started a new family with John.

That was the full story.

.

And now she's asking me to leave my house, and come to live with them.In a way its funny. Joke of the year.

"I'm twenty six ma, I'm not a child and I do not need parenting" I say

"What about priscy?" she almost sounds like she cares. Priscilla was seven when she left, that didn't stop her from leaving.

Normally when parents break up they usually have a fight for who gets to keep the children and all of that.
My mother didn't fight. She left us, all of us.

"You didn't think of that when you and Dad decided to dump her with me" I remind her, just incase she forgot.

I hate that I had to bring dad into it but it was true, he was also so sad about his wife leaving him he didn't think twice about his children. He flew out of the country and left me, his teenage daughter to cater for his last child. Things weren't going smooth for Jo at the time and it was left to me to be her new mom.
At least dad has admitted his mistakes, given explanations and over the years he's been trying to fix things. Unlike her.

"She needs her mother"

"She needed her mother ten years ago. She's seventeen now, almost an adult and she does not need you anymore"

"Don't say that" she sounds pitiful. I don't pity her.

"Is anything I said inaccurate? You're not a mother, you never were. Don't try coming back into our lives now when it's too late, now that we definitely don't need you" my voice is getting louder with each sentence.

"You don't understand. It's more complicated than that"

I laugh, again "If you don't stop spitting lies you'll make me do something we'll both regret" I try to reduce my voice but I can still hear myself very loud and clear

"They're not lies, darling. I didn't get a chance to explain to you guys"

"Ten years, mummy. You didn't get a chance for ten whole years?!" I'm shouting now

"You're very shameless! I wish dad had married someone that wasn't you, he deserves better" I say what I've been wanting to tell her "and I hope your new family sees who you are, maybe when you abandon them too for a richer and younger man"

I'm talking without thinking, something I do when I'm pissed. And right now I am pissed.

"The audacity you have coming here like you're my mother. I don't have a mother. She died ten years ago. And to think I'll even accept your stupid offer?"

I look at her, her eyes are red and filled with tears threatening to spill

"I didn't know you were capable of feeling, so you cry? Did you ever think of how you made us feel when you left us? Did you think of dad? He was your husband, even if you weren't that much in love with him you lived with this man for thirty years, you had children together and you just left him with your children"

I feel tears threatening to spill from my eyes too. I blink to shake it off.

"I don't want you in my life anymore. If you want to keep seeing your baby Priscy you can find your way around it. But not in my house because I can't stand seeing your face!" I say.

As I head towards my room I see Priscilla by the stairs. Who knows how much she heard?

When I get to my room, I pick up my phone and go on Instagram. I had been stalking her and John for a while now and it would take very little stress to get their address or John's phone number. I contemplate on sending a text and paying them a visit.
I decide on the latter.

Where's the fun in texts?