Mango

Chapter Three.

I'm not really good at describing stuff, so I'm just going to skip the details of Khaya's apartment and just head in straight to what the book is about. I'd appreciate it if you'd understand.

Thank you.

-Much love, Ri.

Mango

"Close your mouth before some fly decides to find its way in." Khaya nonchalantly said as he threw his car keys on the kitchen counter and locking the door behind him. I closed my mouth, slightly embarrassed as I made my way further into the living room. I wasn't entirely sure whether I should take a seat in my hideous state or I should just deal with it and stand. Khaya seemed to noticed my hesitation, "You can have a seat, you know."

Even though I'd love to sit right now, I just can't put my dirty self on his exquisite, expensive sofa. "No, it's fine. I'll stand until I can get something clean to wear, at least." I said as I just stood there playing with my fingers. Then it hit me, I don't have any clothes and stuff. I'm sure my breath stank from not brushing my teeth in days and I'm sure I stink from not taking a proper shower in days. I'm just so glad I haven't started with my menstrual cycle yet, but I have to find a way to get some sanitary pads as soon as possible.

"It's okay. Just take a seat." His persistence was starting to annoy me, but I wasn't going to sit on the sofa. Even if my life depended on it. So I sat down, but on his creme coloured tiled floor. He walked over to me and yanked my arm, pulling me up. "You're hurting me, Khaya." I nearly whispered, unsure if he heard me or not.

He sighed and mumbled a sorry. I was about to sit down again when his hand took hold of my arm, again, but with more care this time even though it was a little firm. "I won't allow you to sit down on my floor. Not when I have a sofa."

"No, you don't understand. It's not about you. If I don't want to sit on your sofa, I won't. Not because I'd make it dirty and cause you discomfort. No. It's about how I feel being on a clean surface - disgusted. So I'm not going to sit on your sofa. Not when I'm this disgusting." He kept quiet, slightly shocked by what I said. He and I just had a stare-off, daring him to speak and argue with me, but he didn't.

He shrugged and entered what seemed to be his room while I just stood there just admiring his flat. He came out and announced that he was heading to the stores to get some groceries. "Make yourself at home. I'll be back in a few. I suggest you go take a shower or something. There are spare clothes in that room, you'll find them in the wardrobe. Later." And with that said he was out. What he said had felt like a literal slap to the face. Did it mean I smell that bad that he'd actually suggest such? Am I stinking up his place?

Since everything is so darn spotless, I couldn't have the audacity to sit on anything besides the floor - which I'm going to clean later. Maybe Khaya was right. I should take a shower. No, actually I should take a proper bath. So I made my way to the bathroom and was in so much awe that I had stared at the place for a good 10 minutes. The last time I was in a proper bathroom was when I was probably 12 and my mom was still walking this earth.

After my admiration of the huge bathroom, I started undressing. I was so happy I could get rid of this white, now brown, torn shirt. I got it from a street vendor somewhere in Yeoville near an all-girls primary school. I won't forget the look in her eyes. It was that look that was something to support my statement - I am nothing. Being nothing and having nothing humbled me a lot. With the dirty clothes off of me, I started feeling a little fresh. That feeling made me excited for the one I'd get when I actually take a shower.

I took a step into the shower, onto those tiny shower tiles and just looked at the showerhead. Would it feel like rain? I never knew. My mother wasn't wealthy enough to get a shower, so you can imagine how fast my head is spinning just by thinking about clean, freshwater especially from above my head. I turned it on and cold water came out first, causing me to jump a little. But then I relaxed the moment warm, almost hot, water exited. I felt like I was in paradise.

Utopia.

My mind went blank for a good amount of time. It felt so good to have water run over my body, ridding me of the dirt from the streets. I took the Lifebuoy soap and started cleaning myself properly - water wasn't going to do the job on its own. Slowly, but surely my natural caramel colour was coming back... I've been unnaturally dark for too long. A smile crept on my face. I felt it hurt in my cheeks. I haven't smiled like this in years. Who would've thought the water would make me this delightful? Certainly not you. I was smiling too much. I knew this because I could feel my dimple getting deeper, and it never comes out. Never.

I felt it was time to come out of the shower after I got my hair clean. I took the towel that was hanging behind the door and started wiping myself with it. More of my skin colour had become more visible and clean. As I was about to wrap my hair with the smaller towel, the door flew open and leaving me exposed. Out of all the almost cliché moments in history, this one had to happen to me.

Khaya was looking at me in all my naked glory, swallowing in my appearance while I stood there dumbfounded for a good minute or so before I had finally reacted. I ripped the towel from my head and covered my body instead. But what was the point of it all? Khaya saw everything and it was too late to take it all back. And by the look on his face, it certainly didn't look like he was pleased.

The amount of embarrassment had now clouded my thoughts and I went running for the guestroom, but not before taking my rubbishy clothes with me. Once in the room, I started pacing the floor like some drug freak who hadn't received his dagga fix in weeks. Nervousness and embarrassment explained my actions now, but foolishness explained the ones prior. Not only have I exposed the thing I value most - my body, but I scarred Khaya's mind for life.