03 BIG, RED LIPS

I dipped the mop into the bucket of soapy water before and I pulled it out and squashed it on the tiles without squeezing.

I lazily mopped the floor while Tunde cleaned the dusty shelves with a rag. We were the only ones in the library or in the the entire school. Sebastian had gone home with Patricia and Cynthia when their dad had come to pick them up.

"You're just messing everywhere up with water," Tunde sneakered.

"And what's your business?" I snapped at him, "look, I'm very tired and I don't have time for this,"

"But you had time to cause trouble on your first day of school," he glared at me through the empty shelves. All the books that had been on the shelves, were currently in pile on the floor and I cringed of the thought of having to arrange them afterwards.

"I've been sitting in that chair way before you even showed your ugly face at this school," I said while taking out my anger on the floor as I hit the mop against it.

"Oh please," he stopped cleaning, "I've heard enough about you,"

"What did you hear about me?" I asked out of curiosity. I knew they'd be stories and assumptions about me but I hadn't expected new students to be aware of it.

"How you and your friends were bullies and your dad being a cultist," he said like he'd stated a fact. I stopped mopping and stared at him.

"Well, try to mind your own business," I went back to mopping the floor and he cleaned the shelves.

A few minutes had gone by when Tunde began singing. I hated his character but I adored his voice. He had the best tenor I'd ever heard.

"And how do we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine" he sang my favorite song from my favorite movie - The Greatest Showman.

"I love that song," I said without my permission.

"I love that movie," Tunde turned to me, "Have you seen it?"

"Only ten times. I know every single lyric to every song," I said proudly.

I don't how, but we found ourselves singing This is me by Keala Settle and other The Greatest Showman songs as we arranged every single book in the library. Our voices sounded perfect together.

We were finally done and I didn't hesitate to grab my bag and head for the door. I was exhausted and all I needed was a long nap.

"Rachael," Tunde called my name for the first time and I turned to him while standing on the threshold of the door, "you should join the singing club,"

I smiled and he did the same. I made a mental note to think about what he'd said.

The distance between the school and my former house was walkable but aunt Thelma's house was a little bit further and I couldn't imagine myself walking the distance. I'd be home the following day if I decided to walk.

With the money Uncle Harry had given me in the morning, I boarded a bus and it took ten minutes before I got home. I mentally patted myself on the back for actually going home on my own for the first time.

I knocked on the gate and Sebastian opened it not long after. "She's really furious," said Sebastian and I knew he was talking about aunt Thelma.

Before I could say anything, aunt Thelma made her way outside and marched towards me with her long, thin cane. I ran for my life.

Aunt Thelma chased me around the small compound like a dog. She flipped her cane in the air while muttering curses and trying to catch me. A few strokes had hit my back as I danced around in circles.

Aiming at me, aunt Thelma through the cane and it hit my leg perfectly as if it was being controlled with a remote. I held my leg and cried and before I could blink my eyes, I was being pulled b hair and pushed inside the house.

I was totally unaware of my surroundings while the cane hit me continuously. I cried out in pain and even after aunt Thelma had stopped flogging me, warning me never to come home late again, I still laid on the floor curled up and sobbing. I felt numb.

Sebastian helped me up and took me to my room where I slept off. When I woke up, it was six in the evening and I knew I was supposed to get up and prepare dinner before aunt Thelma noticed that I wasn't doing anything.

I lazily got up and changed out of the uniform I was still wearing. My eyes were red and puffy and I had fresh scars on my arms and thigh. I silently prayed that the scars weren't permanent.

"Rachael!," Patricia banged on my door like there was no tomorrow.

I finally opened the door after letting her strain her voice a few more times, "You've turned deaf right?"

"What do you want?" I gritted my teeth. I felt like slamming the door in her face but she'd probably run to her mother and say I jammed the door in between her fingers.

"My mom and dad went out and they won't be back until tomorrow so I need you to prepare noodles and fried egg for Cynthia and I and -"

I slammed the door in her face.

I was already laying on my bed when she barged in like a psychopath. Which she was. "I'm calling my mom and I'll tell her you refused to cook-"

"Okay, okay. I'm coming." I couldn't let her tell aunt Thelma about that. I would be in big trouble.

I followed her downstairs and into the kitchen where the noodles were already waiting for me.

"Everything is ready so you better be fast about it." she ordered before cat walking out of the kitchen. I was too exhausted to even think of the perfect word to curse her with.

I was halfway done with cooking the noodles when I heard Patricia shout from the living room, "make it spicy o!". I rolled my eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

Since when did I turn into a maid for this family? Rachael do this, Rachael do that. I was getting fed up and tired of all the maltreatment and abuse.

I threw the empty bottle of chilli sauce into the waste basket and that was when I'd realized what I'd just done.

I'd just emptied a whole bottle of imported Mexican chilli pepper in the pot of noodles. I stared blankly at the open pot as the liquid settled in. I knew that it wasn't going to taste lovely but she was the one who had asked for spicy noodles and it wasn't like I'd done it intentionally.

She'd wanted spicy noodles, I'd give her spicy noodles.

I quickly fried the eggs and dished out the food in two different plates with fried egg covering the top layer of the food.

As I took the food to the dinning table, I couldn't help but chuckle at Sebastian who was already eating the delicacy with his eyes. He was on a couch in the living room when I'd passed with the plates of noodles.

Patricia and Cynthia were comfortably seated at the dinning table opposite each other while they stared into their phones.

Without evening saying a word to me, they snatched the plates from my hand and made themselves comfortable on their seats once more.

Patricia was the first to put the hot noodles into her mouth letting every single strand of it touch her lips while Cynthia claimed to be saying a short prayer.

I was about closing my ears when Cynthia's recitation of Our Lord's Prayer was interrupted by Patricia's loud screaming. I watched as Patricia's lips grew big and red while she fanned it with her hands as though they were on fire.

Sebastian came running into the dinning area when Cynthia asked her sister what the problem was but the only thing Patricia was able to say through her swollen lips were "Pepper! Pepper!!" before running off to the bathroom.

Cynthia looked down at her food before glaring at me, "why did you put too much pepper? Don't you have common sense?"

I could see Sebastian trying to hold his laughter but he wasn't succeeding.

"I didn't know it would be too much. She said I should make it spicy so I figured she liked pepper. A lot." I'd tried to play innocent but I was clearly fooling no one.

"Cut the crap Rachael," Cynthia snapped "I know you did this on purpose and I promise you, you'll regret it". She stormed out of the dinning area and headed towards the bathroom to help her sister out probably.

Sebastian had finally burst into a fit of laughter like a mad man and I couldn't help but giggled at the sight.

I arrived at school the following day feeling like I was going to faint if I stood up for a second more. It was stupid of me to have thought that the little stunt I'd pulled on Patricia would go unpunished by aunt Thelma. This time, she didn't beat me but she'd done something worse.

Aunt Thelma had come home that morning and after her daughters had told her about what happened and after she'd seen Patricia's clown lips, I guess she was too tired to lift a cane so she deprived me of breakfast. And to make things worse, she'd convinced Uncle Harry to leave me behind and take the others to school with the idea of me walking to school.

Fortunately for me, I still had change from the money uncle Harry had given me and I'd used it to transport myself to school but I still felt exhausted from not eating anything for the past twelve hours. I didn't have any money on me anymore since I'd used the last one to pay for my transport fare.

Ignoring everybody who tried to greet me, I made my way to my desk and rested my head on it without acknowledging Tunde's presence.

"This one you're like this, what happened?" Tunde asked while I didn't care to look up.

"Leave me alone" I grumbled and I didn't hear Tunde say anything else. I felt guilty for being rude to Tunde but I didn't apologise either.

Unfortunately, we were having a combined English class meaning that Patricia's class had to come to our class for the lecture. I couldn't concentrate with the rumbling if my stomach and Patricia shooting daggers every time I dared look back.

I was so unconscious of my surroundings that I was sleeping without knowing I was. I tried to keep my eyes open so the teacher wouldn't catch me.

Tunde wasn't talking to me and I knew he was angry but he'd been the least of my worries.

When the period was over, I had no idea because I'd successfully dozed off. But I was forced to wake up when the art class were asked to come back to our class with the student council following them.

Without any warning, permission or explanation they grabbed our bags and began searching it.

The English teacher who I'd forgotten his name walked in looking worried, "the person who stole my phone should bring it out now!" he commanded while the search was still in motion.

This was normal in Nigerian schools. Phones got stolen in the staffroom not to talk more of in a crowded classroom with over sixty students. For God's sake it was a combined class and he should've known the art class was skilled when it came to theft.
I was about to go back to sleep when one of the seniors said, "I found it," he raised the supposed phone in the air.

Everyone looked closer to see whose bag it had come out from. I did the same and I froze when I realized the phone was found in my bag.