Sing Of A Tree In The Wild

Mind Games

Elfrida

I am dying right now.

Where could it be?

Where could I have left it?

I am so worked up at the moment. For the past two hours or so, I have been searching for my glorious notebook. Since I started using it last year, it hasn't, for one day, gone missing. It was always by my side; never far away from me.

As funny as it may sound, that notebook has grown to be the most important piece of my soul's jigsaw. I value it more than everyone- almost everyone, if you may. Slowly, I sink to the floor and I bury my head, trying to remember when last I saw it.

When last I grasped it.

You never know the true worth of something until you lose it. This is because familiarity breeds contempt. As things are playing out right now, I obviously got too familiar.

But wait....

I remember seeing and holding it on election day, three days ago. That was shortly before I went to visit Dennis.

I forgot my notebook at Dennis' home.

Heaving a sigh of relief, knowing fully well my book is in safe hands, I stand up and move towards the balcony. I am passing the living room and my, the atmosphere is livid. My parents haven't looked this elated in a long time.

"Yes! It has happened! They thought it would never happen! The people have spoken!" My father exclaims, walking in circles, as though he were praying vigorously. My mother just ran to the balcony, where she is currently screaming, "APC! Change!"

Inasmuch as I hate her with passion, the meaning of all this has suddenly become clear to me. She just walked back in. Upon seeing me, her smile instantly disappears.

"You, what are you doing here?" She tops up the question with a disgusted look.

Not this time.

I fold my arms, flashing her a defiant look. "Last time I checked, this was also my house."

"And so what? I call the shots here; you play by my rules. I want you out of my sight, out of this room. I won't say it again."

I do not bulge.

"Elfrida? Have you grown wings?"

After a bout of insolent laughter, I move towards her. "Angels and demons have wings, so you need to be more specific."

My mother is so not done. She makes to hit me, but my dad gets in the way.

"Funmi! Not this time. Not now that we are jubilating." He says calmly, powerlessly.

"I detest her presence! She is a terrible eyesore!" She yells, trying to wrestle out of my father's grip.

I seriously want to give it to her today. "An eyesore is what you get every time you look in a mirror."

Evidently piqued, she breaks loose and runs towards me. Like a knight in shining armour, Matthew jumps in the way at the very last second.

"Elfrida, come on! Why would you talk to your mother like this?"

I fix my eyes on the television screen. "She isn't my mother; you know that."

Matthew is trying to placate my mother. It should work to an extent; he's a terrific orator. Avoiding the trio, I take a detour to the balcony. Even without looking at them, I can feel their eyes burning through me. That awareness, coupled with my pent-up anger, is equally consuming me. I grasp the cold steel bars in the balcony and close my eyes. I can feel the tears slowly escaping my eyes.