Masila

Hania

*NEWS*____

Hania is being played by the person above.

Hania- Carolin Loosen

__________
Hania

"What did Mom want last night?" I push around the pears and strawberries on my plate, fumbling with my fork as I anticipate his most likely angry answer.

But I think both of us are surprised when he sighs dejectedly, "She wanted to talk to me about something that I need to talk to you about,"

I blink back my surprise. "Okay," I drawl the word out and set down my utensil.

My dad pushes his breakfast aside too. "Listen, Han, what I'm about to tell you isn't going to change anything between our... Uh, father-daughter relationship-"

We have one of those?

"-so I just need you to be open minded and hear everything,"

I nod like the perfect daughter.

But this time I honestly have no guesses. Not a death, how would that affect our supposed father-daughter relationship? Are we moving? No, we've moved too many times for it to affect us.

Wait, what if my dad is getting married or has a girlfriend or something along those lines?

I interrupt with a loud, "Please don't get married!"

My dad wrinkles his nose in a really unflattering way. "What? No! Han, just-" his hand disappears into his brief case always in it's natural spot at the dining room table. "Look at these,"

He slides a packet of papers across the table and I catch them, giving him a worried glance.

It's a picture of a girl my age on the front. She's skinny and dark skinned, with wide brown eyes and pink lips. Her hair looks like it would be pretty if not in the beaded mess it was tangled in on the picture. But overall, she's pretty and kind looking. Except the scared look in her eyes. Was this girl scared of the person taking the picture?

That's when I notice the background. There's debris littering the dusty Earth and right behind the girl is a strewn teddy bear, it's unblinking eyes trained right on the camera.

Judging from her appearance, the condition of her living condition, and the orange robe draped over her thin frame, I could only guess one place she could be.

"An African?" I guess and gesture towards her serious face. "Is this like a relative..." I trail off, not following.

My Dad bites his lip, something I've never seen him do. "You got that part right," he takes a breath. "That's Masila. She's from Kenya, like your mother's family-

What was my Dad doing involved with my Mom's family?

"And she's coming to live with us,"

I stop breathing and jerk backwards in my chair. It had always been my mother, father, and me until I was twelve. Then just my father and I. No grandparents alive for me to see, my mom's in their native country which of course, was Africa.

Did he mean live, as in permanently? Like a sister, kind of thing?

At the moment, I think my Dad getting married would be better.

But I stay quiet as he mumbles about when she's getting here and how she'll have the second guest room.

But I barely listen to him. My Dad doesn't mumble, for one. And two, didn't have a say in this? Hello, sharing a house isn't like you perceive it father. You don't just disappear each morning and come home late if your my age.

I can't handle his perplexed expression so I stand, leaving the dishes to Shawna, our housekeeper, for once.

It took me a second to get my thoughts together. A cousin? From Africa? Whom I've never heard a single word about? What?

Right before I reach the stairs I stop in my tracks and spin around. My dad is still sitting, lost in thought as he taps his foot on the hardwood.

"Dad," I finally say and he snaps up. "Why isn't the girl with Mom? I mean it's not like you're related to anyone from... there,"

My Dad sighs, something I'd seen him do more this morning than I have in my entire life.

"Because your cousin, Masila's mother, isn't exactly... friendly with your mom right now,"

Wow, I could think of a million things to argue about when I live seven thousand miles away in a different country and haven't seen any of you people since I was eight.

I nod anyway, my teeth tugging on the inside of my lip. My mother actually was an easy person to disagree with. She had this era that told you before she spoke that it was going to carry something selfish about it.

It always did. Which is probably why my Dad left her in the first place.

But I forgot to ask him the one question that would answer everything.

Why?