LATE BEGINNING (Short story)

 

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

By CHISOM

 

 

 

L

ife has not been fair to me since I was born. We are three girls in my family, I am the youngest. Lesley and Bright are the angels; at least that's what my mom thinks. They are both in the university having what seems to be the best time of their lives. I work; I don't have a particular occupation. Mom decides what I do for the day. It's either I am cleaning, cooking at one of her friend’s or running errands.

 

And oh! Dad is fine with that. He believes mom knows the best. I don't complain, I just get to leave home every day. Outside the family gate, I laugh a lot, I have a perfect family. Inside the house, I keep to myself. I read books, a lot of them. They are my safe haven.

 

16th September, as early as 3AM, I got the feeling I was drenched in what seemed to be a dream, mum had emptied a bucket of water on me, right there on the bed. Few seconds later, I got another feel of water, but this time, it felt cooler; 2°c sort of cooler. “Now this is real” I thought, almost the same time a thunderous slap embraced my chin.

 

“Witch, are you not done with your meeting? What happened to the clothes you washed? Who will iron them? Oh, you have been relaxing so much in this house; you now have a lot of time for your coven. Now get out of that bed and move to the laundry room!” her voice spluttered, almost like thunder collecting from all parts of the cloud after rainfall. Without words, I moved to the laundry room.

 

Few hours later, I could hear Dad screaming. I've never heard him scream that loud. I continued with the ironing. Moreover, I was not so free as to appear without being summoned before my parents. Soon enough Les and B joined Dad, and this time they were wailing. “Now this is not normal, but I'm still not going to move”. I thought. It was much later in the day that I got the news. 

 

Somehow, I'm supposed to be crying, but I'm here with mixed feelings. A part of me, happy that I'll get to have a bit of what my sisters have had and the other part full of guilt. I'm sitting in the balcony thinking about everything that happened. 

 

It’s all making sense now. The morning after she ordered me to the laundry, I wished she could sleep and not wake up. I killed her! No, my wish did. Maybe not my wish, maybe it was the words from the book I read.

 

“Wish that they don't see the next sunrise, they cause you pain, you give them rest” those were the exact words from the last line I read out of the book before I slept off. I killed my mother. I gave her rest. And now, I begin to live – late to so many things.

 

 

I am Chisom, a student of the department of Pure and Industrial Chemistry, University of Nigeria, Nsukka. I am 22yrs old, at the time.