Run

Chapter 2

They drop me off at my house and wish me good luck, knowing fully well that my noticeable lateness of 10 minutes could cause a lot of trouble for me.

This may seem extravagant but when it comes to my family every blessing given is a necessity and should willingly be accepted.

With my mother, one minute all seems to be 'fine and dandy' then the next she relays a look filled with such hatred, that you begin to yearn for the comfort of hell itself.
My sisters on the other hand who are more darker in complexion than I am, taking after mother in that aspect, seem to have recently perfected the art of 'snitching' to the point where they even feel obligated to incorporate some of their own lies in order to exaggerate the initial story; but of course what does that matter? It only just affects MY life.

I wave good bye as the car drives off, leaving me with the nasty stench of petrol. After slowly walking up towards the door in order to delay my entrance, I get out my key and open it.
Instantly the smell of chicken hits me.

You better not mess this up Becka or you ain't gon' be getting no chicken. *

"Rebecca is that you?" my mother questions.

"Yes" I reply.

I step into my living room but find my mother in the kitchen. For a few seconds I watch her intently, trying to gage her mood; her dark hands which are slightly lighter than her face slowly stir the pot just before she grabs a spoon to taste the food - an African dish to which I fully approve of named Jollof Rice. She opens her mouth and her teeth, in contrast to her dark skin, is purely white as she smiles, approving of the taste. I make my presence known by clearing my throat and saying "good afternoon ma". She slightly jumps and turns around to look directly at me and I know, whatever I say now could either make or break me.

"What time do you call this?"

I am only 10 minutes late but this is a big deal in my family. Besides, it would be wrong to claim that it was all my fault as I was forced by Mr bloody Roberts to stay back 15 minutes after school because the work I did in his maths lesson was "unacceptable"

Prick...

"I had to stay back for extra curriculum" I fib, knowing using the words detention would ultimately cause the end of me.

"And you couldn't have texted me or called...do you know how worried I've been!!"

*straight face*

Because frankly, Yes...yes I do. You've been so worried you decided to make chicken to celebrate my disappearance...hurray for family.

"I'm sorry"

"Tell me what your problem is." You are. "Will you ever change?" Probably not. "I've warned you many times about your disobedience!" Say goodbye to your chicken Becka.

"Are you happy with the way you are?" She continues, giving me that look that all Mothers give to their children every once in a while which fortunately for me, I get the honour of receiving every 7 plus or minus 2 seconds. "Your younger sisters are sharper than you for God's sake!!"

*cough cough!! Thou shall not use the name of the lord in vain! cough!!!* And she calls herself a dedicated Christian...

" All you ever do is sleep and eat. Do you not notice the big lump of fat growing and jiggling with every step you take?"

At this point, I know I should be quiet. I have had a long 17 years of experience with her to know that when she rants you shut up and listen; or at least pretend to listen but at this point I cant help but mutter, "well, I don't just sleep and eat, that would be scientifically impossible as my body has to undergo-"