So this chapter ain't my best, and even I know that. Just a heads-up. I've been a bit off lately, but I know that I have people waiting on me. Hence this update.
Biko, help me manage it please ♥♥ Oh and don't be discouraged from voting and commenting. I'll probably rewrite or re-edit this later. Muah!
I'm dedicating this part to claudia-143 You're amazing, and nothing less.
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Anjola steadied herself for the task before her. You can handle this Anjola. You have conquered this already, remember?
Yes I have. Thank you for reminding me Abba. She thought, feeling like a weight had been lifted up from her shoulders.
I've come past this already, and recounting it, doesn't mean I haven't, she reassured herself.
"So where was I?" she asked, seeming absent minded. "Oh yeah, I remember," she said, almost immediately, like she hadn't just asked him a question.
Her eyes glazed over as she spoke, "My mother's death changed everything; and my stepfather and I grieved for so long. We were never the same after her demise.
"Her death left us with just each other. After she died, my stepfather became a shell of who he used to be. He was stuck in his grief, and I, as a young girl was just lost, without my beloved mummy.
"Our co-tenants in the townhouse took me into their homes, whenever my stepfather was out working. Those with children around my age tried to cheer me up, and it worked, but only to an extent.
"Even in school, play time just wasn't the same. Anyway, it was only a little while, till the grief completely swallowed my father."
Her eyes glazed over as she journeyed into the beginning of the darkness of her past.
"You know I mentioned my stepfather's work as a bricklayer?" she asked and he nodded.
"When his buddies from work noticed that, he wasn't shaking off his grief like they expected him to; they tried to help him take the edge off.
"They introduced him to alcohol, to help him numb the pain. They thought it would bring out the old him."
She smiled sadly. "It didn't, for the record. But it did introduce him to the easy way out. Getting drunk on cheap beer. It grew into an addiction, and soon, it became the only thing he spent his money on.
"He forgot about the daughter he had at home and drowned himself in alcohol, night and day. He became known as the community drunk, and it affected his work prospects.
"So he stopped getting jobs because of his drunkenness; but by then, he couldn't do without the alcohol. It had become his poison.
"People came to admonish him, that he should stop drinking, but he was always deaf to their appeals.
"He used to say that if they couldn't bring back his Jẹ́nrọ́la Ajíùn, then they shouldn't tell him to stop drinking.
"While under the influence of alcohol, he used to hallucinate about my mother. He'd have conversations with thin air, and swear that he was talking to my mum.
"He fell apart before my eyes, and I was a front seat spectator. What else could I have done?" she asked. "I was only a child after all."
She spared the man a side glance, and was pleased to see that he looked enraptured with her story. When he wasn't trying to appear as uncaring, she saw that the persona was just a mask.
YOU ARE READING
The Bridge|| Completed✓
General Fiction"Can I help you ma?" He asked. His voice was scratchy and low and his tone rang out as sarcastic. "What do you mean by 'Can I help you ma?'" she asked him in incredulity. "I said what I said. Now what exactly is your problem?" He asked, obviously no...
