NASIEKU: MAFIA ROMANCE

5: In His Arms

By the time I got to my shop, it was already midday and my sister had already opened. I had plenty of work pending, to begin with, I had a painting I was bound to finalize, for it was to be collected at the end of the week. I would also give my sister a hand in beading the ornaments for the upcoming wedding bridesmaids.

I loved painting since I was a young child. One would argue that I was born a painter. I spent most of my teenage years in my room perfecting my painting skills. I improved by the years, the results were now spectacular. Whenever I painted, I poured my heart into it. I always got lost in my fantasy world while at it.

I loved painting Robin. I had several portraits of him in my room, but I had woken up one morning anger boiling in my blood. My ears were ringing from the hot pounding of blood in my brain. Heartbreak and anguish filled my heart. I thrashed them all with the kitchen knife. I had then started screaming and crying, I was hysterical. I wanted to put an end to it all, I had the knife on my chest. When my father and sister came to my room they were horrified. Fear and sorrow were written all over their faces as they begged me to discard the knife. The pain in their voices still lingers in my mind.

The only reason I did not put that knife in my heart that day was that I realized that even if I died, the pain will not end. I would be passing it down to my family. My family would be left in agony mourning me.

My father had called the psychiatric to calm me down. After about an hour, I put the knife down. I had then started going for psychotherapy for a few weeks. The sessions left me feeling drained off my emotions and energy. I decided to quit. It had not gone well with my father but I reassured him I had control over my emotions now.

I saw concern and worry on my father's face this morning when he looked at me. He was worried the depression was creeping back in. I have to admit I felt the same when I was in the shower with the blade on my thighs. Everything felt like it was falling apart again. I was in the hope that painting and beading would be therapeutic enough to save me this time.

My father had taught Laret and me how to make bead ornaments from a young age, It was our way of bonding as a family.

When I opened my painting shop I thought it would be fun to make bead ornaments with my sister after my long hours of painting. It would also be great for her to have a part-time job since she was in college.

"Where have you been?" She inquired.

"Home," I shrugged.

"Home?" She inquired, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Yup, I overslept." I lied.

"You've been doing so much of that lately. Have you stressed over Robin again?" She asked concern evident in her voice.

"When did I ever stop?"

"I know wherever he is, he would want you to be happy Nas." She pointed out for the hundredth time this month.

"How do you know that?" I asked, settling in my chair.

"If he didn't, he would be here with you right now," She sputtered. Laret's statement was reasonable, though I was not ready to accept the truth

"Can we go back to work? I need to concentrate on what I'm doing here." I said, dipping my painting brush in the blue paint and started to paint. I knew she was right but still.

"Fine, but this discussion is far from over Nas," She said and moved to the large table at the other corner of the shop and started beading.

I was relieved. The mention of Robin's name brought tears in my eyes and pain in my heart. I had outdone myself in the bathroom this morning, I was already exhausted. I was more than glad she had dropped the subject for now.