[COMPLETE] African Pride

15. Fresh Meat

The day some sooner than I expected for me to begin at the Golden Oak College Preparatory Academy, which was both the longest and strangest name for a school if you ask me. Only a couple of days earlier, Victoria and I had finally found a store that had the clothes that I liked called Forever 21. They had belly tops, ripped pants, shorts, bodysuits, light jackets and more; all in a variety of styles and colors. Overall it was my type of clothing. For the cost of one of Victoria's designer shirts, I was able to buy a whole wardrobe. Designer outfits worth hundreds to thousands of dollars was a waste of money to me, simplicity was where it was at.

The night before I was to go to this school I spent tossing and turning in my sleep. For the first time in my life, I felt... nervous. I didn't understand why, as I usually charged into things head first, unafraid of the consequences. That night, I couldn't find peace in sleep. Rolling over onto my stomach, I looked at the mobile that Henry and Anne had bought me. 

I considered calling Baba. I hadn't said work to him since he forced me to leave my home, something I still swear I'd never forgive him for. My hand reached out to it, my fingers itching to dial his number, but I pulled my hand away.

No. No, I can't do it. He made me leave the only home I had ever known, banished me from Kenya. How can I talk to him right now?

I wasn't ready to forgive him, to talk to him. I could have called Badru and asked about Halima, but when I considered the time differences, I knew it was best to forget it.

So, I was forced to wait until my body got too tired of being awake to fall asleep.

When morning finally came, the butterflies returned to my stomach. Today was the day I would go to this American school.

What would they think of me? Would they know of me? Of course, Henry and Anne told the people in charge of the school I was coming. But, did they tell the students?

With a groan of frustration, I rose from my bed and walked to the bathroom. Carefully I started a hot shower, remembering when I first arrived, I pressed the wrong button and got caked in a lemon-smelling lather. It felt good to be under the hot spray, and as I closed my eyes, letting the water massage my muscles; my mind began to wonder. I was back in Kenya, back on in the lands I called home. I was in Busar's face, my old friend kneeling in front of a fire. He was chanting, a rattle with colorful beads in his hands, the flames before him shifting colors from red, green, and black.

"Busar?" I said, happy to see my friend. "Busar! I'm here!"

"Mlezi... where are you...?" his deep voice said. "Mlezi, you have to return to us. The cub...Find the cub..."

"Busar," I cried. "Busar, listen to me! I haven't given up!"

I tried to reach out to him, to try and get his attention, but my body passed through him as if I was a ghost.

"You promised..." Busar said to the flames. "You promised that you would never leave..."

"I didn't leave!" I yelled. "I was sent to way. Busar! Burar, listen to me!"

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

My eyes flew open as I gasped, my heart thudding in my chest as I looked around in confusion. I was still in Washington D.C., even in the shower. The water felt cold now, and with trembling fingers, I turned it off.

My heart felt as if it was breaking, that vision felt so... so real. It didn't occur to me that when I left, I never said goodbye to Busar, to Bibi, to my Uncle. Everything had happened so far that for all they knew I had abandoned them, and I know Baba didn't tell them to the truth.