Her Reality

Tick and Tock

She opened one eye as if afraid to open the other, slowly she began adjusting to the light that penetrates from her window,which is landing all the rays on her uncovered face. She sighed and pushed away the blanket, stretching her body, which caused the bed to squeak. She hates mornings, every morning that starts from last year brought fear of what today will bring. She doesn't quite comprehend living for today. All her days were destroyed by "today " and she wish tomorrow will continue to be tomorrow even when it's happening, but when it changed name to "today" she knows all her plans will be destroyed, for she never plan about today, she only planned for tomorrow, and it never cease to let her down on turning to today.
Her siblings already left for school, and her heavy sleep didn't let their noisy morning disturb her. She's too occupied in her lucid dreams and her brain couldn't take two at a time, dream and reality.
She searched for her phone which is carelessly tossed to the other side of the bed, with her earphones twisted and rolled over the phone she reached for it. Checking the time she was not surprise that she's been sleeping for almost thirteen hours, and there's something going on inside her mind, she wanted to remember something but failed, it felt like her brain is blocked by whatever that is she's trying to remember. She washed away the thought and get up off the bed, walking towards the mirror she stood by it. Slowly observing herself. The mirror is full length which is glued to her wardrobe and it's six feet to her bed, there are other two wardrobes in the average, room which are for her sisters and a mattress lay on the left side of her bed. On the bedside post are books that has been regularly used put neatly on a small drawer turning away , She observe closely the person in the mirror, she didn't really saw it till now. People had said she's lost weight, she's thin already and God, she looks thinner.
Her colour was a bit darker than fair and a pointed nose and average lips. Growing up in the northern part of Nigeria a high cheekbone wasn't something a woman who has it would be considered beautiful, in fact it's a figure that is refer to as ugly' but whenever she smiled and instead of dimples her cheekbone goes higher, and f*ck the beauty rules, she love her own natural and extraordinary beauty.
Her neck bones stood even firm and exposing now that she's lost the little weight she'd worked so hard on.
Slowly her gaze drifted to her body wearing just a plain dark blue T-shirt and ash colour rubber skirt. She look so frail and helpless, she don't want to think that way, she prohibited thinking that way about herself. But when the truth lies just in front of her she can't deny that. And her eyes, God, they are the most exposing part of her, how could someone have so much things inside him and have those eyes. They don't know what's obscuring, they never hide her real self. The tiredness, the pain, the fire and the demands are all bare in her eyes, she wished she can control all of that she can shield those eyes from stripping her emotions naked. There's more than just the brown pupil and iris in those eyes and she's scared that she is not the only one that see it. Even though the mirror needs cleaning she can see those few dark spots that pitched their way to her cheeks, how she hate them! But there's nothing she could do about it, she heard that if they are given medicinal attention they'll spread farther not only her face, and she dare not to apply any medical aspect to it. And emotionally she really had so many things to deal with to care about some miserable pimples. She hissed a little and touched one at the lower part of her cheek, it's full with fluid she can see as it's tip turn to milky colour. She pierce it with the tip of her two fingers each supporting a side till it burst out. She reached for a clothe that lays on the heap of the laundry basket close to where she's standing and drained the fluid that start dripping with a light blood. It hurts as she forcefully dried the remaining fluid and all that's left is the bloodshed flesh.
She opened her drawer and brought out a toothbrush, before she stepped out, the red bulb hanged bare in the mid left of the room lightened giving the room a bit more brightness added to the sunlight beaming. She sighed and draw out her phone which the process of pimping the pimples made her drop it in her skirt pocket. She went back just close to her bed, where the socket stuck like an overcooked spaghetti in a Chinese chopstick helplessly swing but tied to its place. It's already in battery saving mode and if she's careful the 30% left will last till evening but anyways NEPA didn't plan on disappointing her with charging challenges.
The toilet she shared with her mom and sisters was a small round cubicle, it's always clean no matter what, and that's just one of the reasons she love her little sisters, they took upon her, everything stayed neat and tidy. She reached for the toothpaste, which is cuddled in sardines intimacy with her mom's and sisters brushes inside a small rubber cup. She couldn't just let her toothbrush there, it made her laugh wickedly of how she doesn't trust her siblings. They can do something worse more than cleaning the toilet with her toothbrush. And well, from experience it was fun and just as sure as she is, she won't let karma repeat this.
She was cleaned as she emerged out of the toilet to the little and peaceful compound of the house, with a wrapper tied around her chest, she didn't goes in with any intention of having a bath this morning but she did come out bathed, either way she won't take long without bathing especially in her situation. Having water poured to her, caused her body to relax, she kind of feel new and feel is if it's washing away her misery and sins. If she always want a new day strong it's always best to have a bath immediately after she wake up.
The house they lived in is a big old house that's known for their grandparents from their father's side. It's a large storey building, it has four parts, each can carry a minimum family. Two parts under the stairs and the other two upstairs. They live downstairs, her family on the right part of the building and her uncle's family on the left. The upstairs is empty for a while but she heard her uncle talking about renting it so they can manage a little investment. She wondered what had not brought the idea all these years till now.
Her mom was busy in the kitchen and the house is quite and peaceful, she walked in as the wind cool her skin and drying the left bubbles of drops.
"Maama!" She said as her mom bend her head looking for a matchstick that just fall as she heard the door squirmed.
"You just scare me" the woman said rather cool than formidable.
"How are you?, I was about to go and wake you up, this days you are sleeping too much."
She added lightning the matches to start the stove.
Staring at her mother working, she answered respectively as she could,
"I'm fine, but I think you're going farther about me sleeping more than I'm suppose to, it's just yesterday and maybe few days in the week, you knew that I never slept too much,"
She paused and added as a matter of factly,
"You also knew that I use to complain about how chronically sleep-deprived I'm."
"Well you think that, but I see no reason why you should be stressing out yourself and putting things in your mind that are never your concern, you know that we can't afford another ill person than the one we already have."
She said, closing the pot of boiling water, after she'd put it on the stove.
"And Maama, I never said that you have to afford me being sick,in fact I'm not in any way getting sick. And you are sounding as if shatu is a responsible, she never wanted to be sick too, she wouldn't have choose that if people were able to choose destiny!"
From a simple tone, her voice became a bit fierce and higher, sometimes she wished her mother will think the way she did. Her sickle cell victim sister had never choose that for herself, she's too small and she isn't the one to be blamed. She wish she can tell that to her mother, that they caused it for her. She and her husband, they never took any genotype test before getting married and when they gave birth to a sickle cell daughter, he left them, leaving no option for their mother but to take care of the four children, and the mother out of weakness started blaming the little child and everyone she could find slightly worth of the blame.
She get out of the kitchen and went back to her room. It's all too much for her to bear, she's just a responsibility to her responsibilities. Her mother is just too weak due to all that she's been through, she can't see that things as simple as they are, she went through hell and back, and too much of the world was never a good thing. And her mother couldn't hold on to the life anymore, she's desperate and hurt, she feel like her children stood in her way. And her husband, she can never forgive him. But there were no promises made between them, and there's never love just a destiny that blindly cross their path. And when he left, there's nothing she can do to make him return to her. She's never choose the right thing, failing seem to runs in her blood, but for once in her life she never assumed that she'll someday be a single mother of four. Her life is nothing something she's proud of and vulnerability take the throne of what's left in her.