A friend to remember

11: The pain of loneliness.

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Throughout the night, Denise rolled around the bed sleeplessly. It was difficult to sleep when all she could think about was her situation, her new life in Arabowale's home. They seemed happy to have her back home but this place was strange. She did not know anyone here and even though Sheila was nice it did not mean she wanted to be here. She missed home, she missed her sister, she missed everything.

The AC was on full blast and she did not need to worry about heat, but Dunni was not here anymore, she was not here to laugh under her covers about retro her favourite boy band, she was not here to help Denise through her pain when their mother got so angry she could not see anything but red. Her gist partner was gone, her only friend, her comforter, and most of all her sister was gone.

Denise could not help but blame herself, maybe if she wasn't in Dunni's life then she would have survived. She would know her but she would still be alive, breathing, laughing and smiling through whatever shit life throughout at them. She was too young to be dead, to be gone but it was too late now and all Denise could do was cry into her mirror and think of how she could have prevented her younger sister's death.

"Miss, Miss Denise," Denise groaned, feeling a gentle nudge against her shoulder. Her eyes opened and she turned to the intruder, who stood back up. "Miss, good morning, I am Bimpe your maid, I was assigned by Mrs Moni to help you get ready."

Denise sat up and rubbed her red eyes, she did not know when she fell asleep, too tired to think. With the way her head was pounding, she did not think she got too much sleep the previous night. Denise looked around the room, the room was larger than she thought. It looked bigger than her entire classroom back in Queen's College and this was a guest room.

"Miss?" Bimpe called, trying to gain her attention. Denise turned back to Bimpe, the lady looked to be in her mid-twenties. If Denise would guess, she should be around 26. That did not matter, Denise noticed that Bimpe was looking down at her shoes, which she found weird but did not comment on. She did not comment on anything at all just tried to get out of bed.

"Miss!" Bimpe cried out, Denise turned to Bimpe who yelped and stepped back. "Is something wrong Miss?" Denise asked softly.

"Hum? Your hand? I was instructed to make sure you do not strain it." She said, hoping she was not going to get yelled.

"My hand is fine, it hurts but it is nothing I cannot manage. Do you know when..." Denise stopped herself. Again she did not know how to address Sheila. That DNA report could have confirmed her to be her mother but it did not mean much, thinking about it now, she could not call her mother, how could she give the title away suddenly after calling someone's mother all her life? Well, the person was now sitting in jail for killing her sister so she could not consider her a child. Denise did not know how she was going to regard their new parents, could she even call them new parents? Argh! This was all too confusing.

She used her good hand to rub her temple. Her headache was beginning to worsen, maybe it was a bad idea to have stayed up all night, thinking about her sister.

"Miss? Hum... I made sure the bath was ready," Bimpe said trying to assure her. "Yeah, thank you, I... I wanted to ask if you have paracetamol, my head is killing me."

"I will go and get Madam," Bimpe turned to rush out. "No!" Denise cried out. Bimpe turned back, fearful. It had even been a day and the young madam was already stressed.

"I am fine, I don't think you need to disturb her." She finished still not knowing how to address Sheila. "Okay? So... what do you want to do?" Bimpe queried.