Tragedy of the African Cinderella [Black Book3]✔

6.

'You definitely not a fraction of my type anyway.'

She never really thought she would be even a madman's fraction of a type of woman talkless of a filthy rich and gorgeous boy of his caliber.
All she wanted was to portray her gratitude.

The ten thousand note he offered her. An unforeseen act she must admit. She didn't want him to see her as desperate, unfortunately, her appearance flipped the coin against her. She wasn't going to use the money, she decided she would keep it until when she lays eyes on him again--by a stroke of luck--and return the money back to him.

She picked up her bucket to keep on her journey back home until it was cut short by a vibrating stinging sensation on the sole of her feet. Nora acting on reflex got her bucket tripping off of her head.

A sharp gravel had punctured her.

She winced and clenched her teeth in pain at the sight of crimson oozing out of a gravel stuck hole which she set free by pulling out the pain inflictor and moving inhibitor.

Perhaps I should buy a pair of slippers and give the remainder to him.

The closest local provision store was just eight steps away from her left side, with limping efforts she reached the stout acne-scarred lady behind the counter, she was busy watching a Philippine movie but spang to her feet at the sight of her customer.

"How can I help you?"

"Good day, a pair of slippers please,"

The lady's gaze diverted to Nora's feet.

"What a pity," she said, fetching the slippers from a massive transparent plastic bag. "how I wish I had a first aid kit here. Make sure to take care of it once home lest you have any infection ok?"

"Thank you and I definitely will,"

"What happened to your head?" the store owner quizzed, outstretching the slippers to her customer.

"A little accident,"

"Sorry about that dear,"

Upon inserting her feet into her new pair of slippers, her belly growled reminding her she hadn't tasted even a sip of water since she was discharged from the hospital. She stared at the remainder of money she had in hand, reminiscing her promise earlier but then, she couldn't help it.

"Ma'am, please could you give a bottle of Coke?" Was that going to calm the storm in her belly? "Could you have my bread buttered as well?"

"Sure, "

"How much is this packet of biscuits, I'll probably need some of it...and some of these chocolates too oh, add a packet of peanuts too,"

Don't be so extravagant.

She sighted an isolated corner of the store where she devoured her meal, even though not satisfied, she still felt pretty energized and healthy despite her thumping head, aching body and the new friend pain beneath her feet.
Again, she stared at the remainder of the money in her grasp: she had used a good amount of it and there was left almost nothing to give her helper back.
Why did she even bother about giving him back what was all hers? She didn't ask for it and he promised he didn't need something from her in return--not even the remainder of it. But he never really said it was all hers, he just gave her the money to buy; specified on what to buy.
What if he needed the rest? Her stepmom always expected change back after sending her to buy some provisions so will he.

She clenched her teeth. Hopefully, she hadn't used too much.
Nora pocketed the money and leaped home ready to rest her head on her bed which was nothing but a thin straw weaved mat located at the darkest corner of the kitchen; there was no difference between sleeping on it and sleeping on the cold bare concrete floor but she couldn't complain.