Chapter 1|Dear Evelyn

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• • • •
"In the beginning it was clear,
Bright and fun filled"

Song of the day: dream high by bae Suzy

Dedicated to you, that awesome person, who made a decision and clicked on this book.
• • • •

The two-way door of the bus clicked, indicating that it was locked.
Almost simultaneously, the engine roared to life, as the bus began to move.

I turned a bit, and look through the glass at the back, at the big signpost near the circular gates that read "goodbye".

A tiny smile perk my lips as I remembered, the day my friends and I ran from our school to this place.
It was so tiring, at the end of the day we couldn't walk back home.
I received a good spanking for that.

But now....I was leaving.
I squinted my eyes a little, I could still see the very vague form of ifeoma's house.

"Aramide, you would hurt your neck" my mom warned "if you continue to look at the back like that".

I ignored her, as my eyes grew misty, my hands clenched into a fist.

Exactly, two hours into the journey, the bus pulled up, in front of a busy place, and soon hawkers consisting mainly of children surrounded us, their words as they asked us to patronise them filled the car, and some were even thrusting chilled beverages at us.

"What should I, buy for you?" mom asked, tapping me on the shoulder.

I swallowed. My throat was dry, but I did not feel like eating, the events that occurred in weeks preceding today, had taken all my urge to eat.

My mother without another word placed a sausage roll in my hands.
"Try and eat, aramide , starving yourself will not help".

Gingerly, I unwrapped and bit into it. After three bites, I concluded, that the makers had lost their golden recipe. 

The bus conductor, a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, stood on the platform of the door, yelling out to passengers to come into the bus, as it was about to take off.

He was shouting on top of his voice, his face was glistening with sweat.
Most of his facial veins were popping and his strained voice was already sounding funny to some people, when he noticed, he quickly shut up.

Soon, people returned and took their seats in the bus, in no time we were on the road, the bus suddenly hit a bump, and most of the passengers, especially those at back, plummeted forward.

A piercing cry of protest and mumblings of cuss words and swears, filled the bus. The driver, tended no apology, to the distastes of many passengers.

Something had slipped from the confinement of my lap, when the bus hit a bump, I bent down to pick the paper, and on a close inception I discovered it was a piece of jotter, a wedding jotter, to be precise. I unfolded it.

Dear Evelyn,
Its funny how hello, always ends with a goodbye.
Its funny how forever, does not really last.

And what's worse?

Its sad how we ended up, we used to be the "ideal best friend forever".
Where did we go wrong?
Or maybe where did i go wrong?
'Cause you are never at fault.

How could you?

This is my last letter to you,
I pray to never see you again,
And most importantly, that we never cross path.

I had knowledge of what was going on, but i trusted you.
Perhaps, that was my biggest mistake.

I hope you change,
That you turn a new leaf,
'Cause the world is embattled with much better things.

Lastly,
I found it,
And be aware that karma has no menu.
Because you are in for a lot.

And it was my choice, to make.
May we never meet again.
Bye.

Yours sincerely,
Aramide.

Sidelines
Yay!!!
Thanks for checking my book out.
Aramide is a yoruba name.
What language do you speak?

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