Cloud on the horizon

Rain only came rarely, along with a blue moon to Paradise, the nearly microscopic village Happiness Mukwevho was born and raised in. People who lived in Paradise thought of rain as manna from heaven itself. There were many tales of how the most splendid of things happened when it rained in Paradise. Happiness couldn't remember a time when she had ever believed them.

When the great sangoma of the village announced in the village streets that rain was coming, Happiness should have known that it would bring about a great change in her life.  Rain in Paradise always brought about change, the older people liked to say.

Happiness Mukwevho lifted the bucket full of water she had just collected from the now filled-to-the-brim river and prepared herself for the long trek home in the unforgiving glare of the African sun. She dreaded what awaited her at home; not that it could really be considered a home after what had happened the night before. 

Anyone who knew Happiness knew that she loathed doing mundane house chores.
At that time of her life she could have killed to escape the claustrophobic feeling she had experienced after the hundredth mourner had arrived at her home. If she had to smile gratefully at another 'I am so sorry for your loss' she would conbust into a million particles.

Happiness arrived back home, with the bucket full of water perched on the top of her head, later than she should have. It probably had something to do with the teenage girl's reluctance to return home.

She sneakily slid through the backdoor of her home to avoid her many aunts and uncles. She shot straight for the kitchen and immediately started cutting the okras for dinner just like her mother had been doing the previous night.This was another chore she hated doing but did anyway to fill the void her mother had left in her home and in her heart.

Her mother had been bustling around their tiny kitchen singing a song she had been taught in her teenage years during the rituals of turning into a woman.  She had been in a good mood due to the Great Sangoma's promise of an absolute chance for rain. Her good mood had been so much so that she hadn't reprimanded Happiness for not helping out with the preparation of dinner. Happiness had just been grateful that she didn't have to cut the okras up with her mother.

Happiness' father had stumbled into the kitchen, swaying uncontrollably. Intoxicated due to yet another night out drinking African beer with the rest of the men, he had had a hazy look in his eyes. He had demanded food. My mother, startled,  had jumped up at his loud baritone voice.
"The food is not ready yet, my love," her mother had said calmly, along with an endearment. He had gotten so angry, so furious.

She remembered it all. It had escalated so quickly and before she had known it, she was watching the seemingly perfect Beauty and the Beast fairytale lose its magic as hatred slowly sneaked its way into His Heart. 

Her mother's screams had relentlessly followed her as she had run out of the house screaming, yet with no sound. It felt like a huge rock had settled in her throat.
Her trembling legs had finally given up the fight and Happiness fell down onto the dusty street, right in front of her house.
She had looked up in anguish, wondering whether the ancestors of the Mukwevho clan had finally forsaken her.

She had still heard her Mother's screams for moments in time, but they had finally ceased just as she felt a miniscule drop of water touch her smooth coffee-coloured skin.