DEATH JUNCTION

1

"A girl named Ada was murdered yesterday. According to our sources, the rest of her family had gone on an outing the previous day and came back later in the night to meet the girl bleeding from a severe injury in her stomach. She had been rushed to the hospital but unfortunately, she had died before any treatment could commence." I stared at the screen with a gnawing dread piling up in my system. The pain that rocked my back still remained adamant, forcing deep prickles down my spine. An itch overtook my neck. My fingers prickled, begging to give into the desire to get rid of the itch. I clenched them tighter.

Why would they want to kill the girl though?

Why would anyone want to kill all of these people?

Instinctively, I snapped my head to look around my tiny room. The walls were thick with dust, screaming to be cleaned as posters began to peel off, the cream paint wearing off. The cupboard moaned slightly while the creaky floorboards continued to shift and scrape against the other, ants finding their way through the myriads of discolored planks.

My gaze averted back to the small monochrome cable TV on a small table that looked like one of the 80s, black and white rippling across the screen while a faint static continued to drone on in the background.

"In other news, terrorists have attacked-" My heart sped up, squeezing tightly as I immediately pressed down on the power button of the remote. The TV blinked off, along with the static that came along with it. The saliva in my throat thickened. I began to scratch the sides of my neck. Flaky skin got between my short nails, the slight twinge of pain giving me some sort of comfort as my body was congealed with a whole load of anxiety.

The bulb in the room flickered. Suddenly, the door came banging open, my mom stood there, eyes apologetic and her lips curled down. I sighed even as the itch intensified. Despite the intensity, I pried my hands away from my neck not wanting to upset my mom any longer.

"Are you okay?" She asked, cautiously as though not wanting to say something wrong at the moment. I exhaled before nodding with a forced smile. My mom just shook her head before strutting towards my bed. Sometimes I looked at my mom and wondered how I ended up being this way. The thought alone made me turn away from her pointed gaze with the burn of tears pulling at my eyeball.

"You know what he said about you isn't true, right?"

I swallowed as I felt my mother's eyes but I refused to meet her gaze. The bed dipped at her weight.

Omo ale. The expression that seemed to have become the perfect term to describe my very existence. Bastard.

"This isn't the first time anyone is saying it so, it doesn't really matter." I shrugged it off as I looked away. The moisture began to make me blink uncontrollably.

"But that doesn't make it any true." She countered, soliciting a shaky breath from me. I chewed on my lips softly as I tried to keep myself from thinking but the swirling thoughts continued to pester me, fighting for my attention.

You know you're a mistake, you don't need anyone to tell you that.

Mom is just trying to sugarcoat all of this, I bet she's laughing behind your back the whole time.

"But it is true and you know it too." I choked on my words, licking my chapped lips. I busied myself by fiddling with my thumbs, trying to somehow keep the tears at bay.

"I was born out of a careless outing made by two equally careless teenagers." The grief was enunciated in my voice as I remembered my maternal grandparents constant berating and annoyance towards me, the story one that had become a parasite to my wellbeing. The heat of their words still held strong, bottled up in a crevice like the rest of the insults that had taken residence in my mind.

"My fat-" The word sounded biting in my mouth as though sandpaper had been used to scrape my tongue.

"No, the man had denied ever having anything to do with it and fled, leaving you and me to fend for ourselves. Despite all the pressure to abort me, despite all the people's stigmatization towards you, you still insisted on having me."

She looked at me and scooted closer to me, shifting the dark sheets away.

"Where are you going with this?" She asked me innocently but I knew she knew. We had gone through this more than a thousand times, a conversation that had become a loop that seemed to come up at least once every single month if not every two weeks.

"Just, why?" She smiled sadly. Her dark eyes that looked exactly like mine but yet held more youthful vigor than my own droopy eyes could ever hold suddenly appeared sorrowful.

"What is your name?" I looked away from her before sighing. I wiped my sleeve against my eyes before groggily replying,

"Zara Josephine Ifarada Adeyemi."

"Now tell me, what does Ifarada mean?"

"Perseverance." At this, she held my hand and turned me to face her, a soft smile gracing her lips that caused a pang of pain in my chest.

"Sure what you said was the truth but you know what? You were the one who gave me purpose after I lost it all, your coming gave me a real reason to live rather than while away my time in clubs and bars. You made me persevere and push through life, can't you see that you are the biggest reward I have ever gotten?" She nudged me a little before pulling me into her arms as I buried my face in the crook of her neck. The smell of her perfume warmed my heart, causing a fleet of tears to escape my eyes and roll down my cheeks.

And like that I was once again listening to another series of encouragement but I knew who I was and who I would always be. And no encouragement would ever take the truth away.

That I am a bastard child born out of wedlock. That was me and that's my reality.

***
UNKNOWN POV

The grass withered slightly, the moon rays shrinking away. The fresh sound of running water bled in the background, the tapping of rain against glass slinks through the atmosphere. But that wasn't what made the night queasy and the darkness heavy like a soaked blanket, weighing down on the occupants below, no.

It was the boy that lay at the feet of his bed ,whom had bled to death, now waiting to be discovered.

Alex Coker, 16 and about to finish secondary school, with a passion for the athletics and award winning smile that could make anyone swoon. Now, forcefully, he had been welcomed into death. And that was his reality now.

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1172
TOTAL WORD COUNT: 1500

I want to thank God for giving me the Grace to write this, so we've finally gotten a view into Zara's life. I have a feeling that I wouldn't really want to live in her head anyway what do you think about the story so far? Any ideas on what would happen next? Vote and comment if you liked and thank you so much ❤️. See you in the next chapter!