Chapter 1 - Breathe.

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~Alisa~

_ I try to breathe, but my head's stuck underwater. They think I'm weak, and they're acting like I'm just not somebody's daughter. I'm the wind around you, and I'm still the air that you breathe. _

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The clinking of the lady's kitten heels — the lady who was to accompany me to my newest foster home — sounded rather loudly in my ears. Heavy thuds hit the ground, her heel-cladded feet smacking against the concrete floors of the airport from whence we had just alighted from our flight.

The lady had an uptight face and persona. She never broke a smile on her face, her eyes were stiff all the time. Her hair was pulled back in a tight faux braid, done in deep blue hair extensions, and held up in a tight ponytail. Her lips were stiff, as well, and they were rather slim. Her caramel-like skin, however, gleamed under the heavy drop of sunshine that fleeted the entire scenery. Looking back at her, now, one would think she was a boss lady lost in a crowd of lowlifes like myself. Even her actions justified my thoughts on this.

We had just arrived from Enugu State, the only place I'd known all my life. I'd grown up there, and I'd never thought of leaving, not even for a second. I never even had the opportunity to, and never had I ever dreamt of ever stepping foot out of there, either. All the other foster homes I was assigned to, all required that I stayed in Enugu, and never outside Enugu. But this one? This, was an entirely different case. This was a first of it's kind, and I wasn't about complaining either.

Asaba, Delta State. My new abode.

Having spent nearly an hour on the plane — worried, and praying that the plane wouldn't crash, leaving I and the rest of the passengers on board, coming down with the massive plane — we ( Lady Arrogant and I)  finally alighted from the soul-whipping journey and were just a ride away from our destination. I couldn't be more happier.

However, Lady Arrogant — a name I'd give to little miss Kitten Heels right there — made no smalltalk while we were on board. I did try asking a few questions, but she plainly ignored me, making it crystal clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. She was only simply asked to fetch me, by my foster parents, and wouldn't go over doing more than that. That, she was careful enough to pinpoint right to my face.

Well, to be fair, I didn't like her, and in return, she didn't like me. While we had gotten down from the plane, and stepped outside the airport, she had be pumping her feet - hard - against the concrete floors of this place. Her eyes were like those of a serpent, alert and ready to devour whomever tried to as much as irritate her. I watched as her slender, yet curvey figure, sashayed and brushed through the crowd of busy people, who were either hurrying to get to their destinations, or basically passersby and/or roadside sellers.

Nonetheless, Lady Arrogant — who still wouldn't let me in on her name — was undeterred by most of the catcalls she got from the street boys who happened to be unable to control themselves. Lady Arrogant, as much as it pains me to admit, was indeed beautiful. She could pass off as a model, and with ease - without having to lift as much as a finger. Her beauty was, in fact, a contrast to what I looked like. But what could be expected from an orphan girl? I grew up in an orphanage, and from foster home to foster home, and so luxury was far from what I enjoyed.

The skin of my body was, by far, sunburnt. I had darkened layers underneath my eyes, and my scrawny physique only made this all a sum total of just how miserable I actually appeared. My cheekbones were peeking out visibly, and my bony face almost peering out from underneath the skin of my body. Small frame, ridiculously tall physique, and ultimate bony structure that layered all of my imperfections on the table, just so anyone could judge if they wanted to. Anyone who'd see me now, would mistake me for a beggar and I wouldn't even blame them. I did look like one, in my faded blue jeans and worn out skyblue t-shirt. The black, rubber flipflop I had on, was begging to be thrown into the trash, still, I couldn't bare to part ways with it because I didn't have any other to pass off as a replacement for it.

(#1) 𝔹𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 •𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓭 •Where stories live. Discover now