Kora

"Kora!"

I could hear my name from outside the door, the big white door leading into my moderate sized bedroom. I never left my room and since I didn't really have friends, I tried to stay indoors as much as I could. Beggars aren't much of choosers they say, but if there's one thing I never compromise, it's the comfort of my space. I always made sure all my previous rooms were comfortable enough for me to spend the whole day in, and they were all in my favorite color, lavender, with a king sized bed, a huge wardrobe, and of course, wide table right in front of the window where I could be on my laptop, drawing the designs of all the outfits I'd love to make one day, and still watch the skies at the same time. Oh, and the pictures of my top three obsessions in frames had to be hanging on all four walls; Nicki Minaj, Queen B and the gorgeous Tiwa Savage. I'd literally move mountains to be locked in a room with those three powerful women.

"Kora!" She yelled my name again. I didn't bulge. I turned to the other side of my bed, pretending to not hear her. I knew who it was and trust me, it never ended well whenever she walked into my room yelling my name like that. The door swung open immediately.

Good gracious, I forgot to turn the lock again.

Talk about someone with absolutely zero manners.

I could smell her. Her Michael Kors perfume filled my room the moment she walked in and found her way to my bed.

I heard her let out a tiny scoff and could guess she had her hands wrapped beneath her breasts. She also probably had a huge frown on her face with one of her eyebrows raised. That was always her favorite pose when she stood in my face.

"I know you're not sleeping Kora."

I opened my eyes slowly and bit on my lip hard. Yeah, talk about wrong timing. To be honest, ever since I got back from the football field, I hadn't really been in the mood to entertain guests, especially this particular guest because I knew she always brought trouble with her and trouble was the last thing I needed. I needed to cleanse my mind. I just needed some alone time which she clearly didn't care about. If I really wanted her to leave, I knew I just had to give her the attention she craved for.

"What do you want Racheal?"

I finally asked her, turning around so I could sit on my bed now and look at her at the same time, pulling my round glasses up my nose bridge so I could see the really tall Kendal Jenner like figure, light skinned girl standing right in front of me. My step sister, Racheal Olori.

It had only been a few years since her father and my mother tied the knot, almost three years to be exact. Thirty months since we've both been forced to live with each other, because trust me, I'd have given anything to have chosen who I'd rather be step sisters with. Let's just say Ray and I haven't exactly been best of friends. She never really liked me, or my mum, and I can say the feeling was mutual, especially since she always blamed my mum and I for trying to take her dead mother's place in the house. Someone that died six years before we even moved in, what's there to take? What position is left for the dead? she's too delusional, I'd give her that.

Unlike me, Racheal practically lived all her life, worshiping her body. She always watched what she ate just so she didn't exceed her size eight figure. I used to hear her tell people her greatest fear was to be as fat as her mother was, or her father. If she was going to work as a model for Victoria's secret or Ador one day, she knew she just had to keep her body as perfect as her role model's, Naomi Campbell's. She had the looks too. Luke used to say on a scale on one to ten, she was an eight as far as looks were concerned but it never made me sad because he always backed it up with saying I was a ten.

Scoff

He was such a liar. With a body like mine, and a face not even close to being perfect face, there was no way I was close to being as perfect as Racheal was, or all the other rich kids in our neighborhood.

Thick.

That was what today's generation call people like me, although lots of the other kids begged to differ. You're fat as a bull to them if you were ever above the 10th size.

"You're not fat Kora. You're a size twelve. Maybe with an extra half. You are perfect."

In the words of my mother.

Easy for her to say, she never really had to walk in my shoes. I agree, I'm not exactly fat, I like to think that I just had a little bit of extra flesh than regular girls. Plus mum was wrong, I wasn't a size twelve, I was more like a fourteen, with an inny winny size of a pee self confidence.

If I was half as beautiful as Mum was, I probably would not have to use her pictures as my profile picture on all my social media profiles. It's the only way I got to really talk to people without them thinking I was out of place. Yes, I'm really insecure about how I look even though Luke and Mum always insist that I exaggerate about it a lot. Whoever it was I got these ridiculous genes from, if only I knew who he was, I'd have asked him why countless of times already.

But I didn't. I never really met him. My mother never really talked about my birth father. She always said she didn't know who he was, that was what she said and she never entertained conversations about him either. My mum used to work at this clubhouse her mother owned, so I just guessed my father must have been someone she had hooked up with in the past and didn't remember.

Yes, my life is a mess and it gets messier than this.

"Kora. I'm talking to you." Racheal snapped her fingers in front of my eyes, causing me to turn back to her as fast as I could.

"I-I'm  sorry." I stammered, rubbing my forehead. "I must have skipped again."

"Duh." She scoffed and then shook her head. She acted like she wasn't going to waste her time with me at all. "Anyway, I said I was going to school tomorrow and my laptop just broke. I want that one."

I slowly raised my head just so I could trace the direction of her pointed fingers to my desk, to the purple laptop that laid pretty on my desk.

"Huh?" I was so confused so I slowly turned back to her. It had to be a joke. There was no way Racheal was actually serious. "But Racheal, you can't take that. It's mine."

She scoffed.

"Yours?" She asked me. "Since when did you own anything in this house?" She sneered. "Didn't you hear me? I said I'm leaving for school tomorrow and my laptop just broke. I want that one."

Trouble, just like every other day.
I got up from the bed too.

"Yes I heard you Racheal but-"

"But what?" She took a step towards me, glaring at me. "You won't let me have it?"

"Racheal, if you want another laptop so bad, why don't you just ask your dad to get you one? You don't need mine. It's really outdated and a bit old. You honestly don't have to do this."

That was the only normal thing to do wasn't it? But Racheal wasn't out for my laptop, she was out for me, she wanted to step on me and get on my nerves like she always did, at least one last time before she left for NAUN. Yes, you heard me right, even Racheal got into NAUN and I didn't, whoever said life was fair had to be the biggest clown of the century.

It was almost as if her name was going to change each time she didn't annoy me at least once a week, this time around, she was going to be gone for a long time, so my guess is, she was trying to hurt me enough for three months, hoping that it'd be enough to get me and my mum out of her house before she returned.

"Do what?" She chuckled and turned to the desk. I hurried as fast as I could to it before she got there first, turning my back against it to block her from even looking at it. I could feel her glare at me. Disgust plainly evident in her eyes. "You! Are you really going to stop me?"

"Mum!" I began to yell. At that point, I knew whatever I said or did wasn't going to really matter. If Racheal meant to bully me one more time before she left for school, she was going to get away with it. She always did. And if she really wanted my laptop, she was going to get it too. I needed help. "Mum!" I yelled again, not taking my eyes off her. I couldn't dare.

It barely took a minute before my mother came rushing into the room as fast as she could. Thank Goodness.

"Kora?"

I didn't even turn to her but I could guess how surprised she was to meet the scene, especially since she had to run all the way into the room with my little brother in her arms.

"Mum, talk to Racheal please. She's trying to bully me again." I said, just as my mother got close enough to where we stood.

"Bully you?" Racheal asked me. "I only asked for that laptop, how did I bully you?"

"But I told you I can't let you have it. It's mine." I quickly turned to my mum. "I can't let her have my laptop mum."

I could see my mum slowly turn to Racheal, forcing a huge smile on her face.

"Racheal, honey,"

Racheal turned to her, glared at her.

"Is anything wrong with your laptop?"

"It's broken." She cut my mother off so rudely. "I don't feel like going to the mall to get another one so I want that one."
She slowly turned back to me. "And your daughter won't let me have it."

"Oh," my mum exhaled as she managed to rock my eight months old baby brother who was so busy playing with his toy and still keep her eyes on us at the same time.

"Mum." I called her again. I needed her attention. I needed her to stop Racheal from doing what she wanted to do. My laptop was my life, literally, it was where I kept everything, my diary, my designs, pictures and memories of me and Luke, it was my private space and Racheal knew that. That had to be why she wanted to take it away from me, not like she could even open it or use it for anything.

"Uh, Racheal, honey," my mother started again.

"What?" Racheal turned to my mother. "Do you think I can't have it too?"

"No." My mother was trying so hard not to step on her nerves. "No, not at all. That's not what I'm trying to say, what I'm trying to say is- you both don't have to fight because of a laptop. Since this one is Kora's and it's really old, and since you don't want to go get one from the mall, I could ask the driver to go get you one, any one at all of your choice. Maybe a Mac book? Would you like a Mac book?"

Racheal scoffed.

"Are you kidding me?" I could hear her whisper to herself right before she turned to my mother. "You want to buy me a laptop?" She asked my mother who just stood there, rocking Mike and staring at me, and then back at Racheal who chuckled mockingly.

"Just who do you think you are to buy me anything?" She added. "And with what money? My father's money? Come on Lilian, don't make me laugh."

Yes, don't be surprised, Racheal was that spoilt. She had never really cared much about respecting me or my mother. Three years and she still called my mother by her name, by her name, so shamelessly, in a country like ours, in a continent like ours where respect was taught and demanded.

"I can not believe you both are trying to gang up against me right now."

Gang up against her? Whoever did that? Did I gang up against her just now?

"May I remind you that this is my house and everything in it belongs to me. I do what I want, I take what I want, anything at all, including that laptop. Who are you to try and stop me?"
She returned her gaze to me.

"Who do the both of you think you are?"
The frown on her face worsened.

"Racheal." My Mum took a step closer to us. I know she was trying to protect me from Racheal being all up in my face. "Racheal please listen to me."

"Get out of my way."

"You don't have to do this. If you have even an atom of respect for me as your mother-"

Racheal paused. She slowly turned to my mum after a few seconds. My mum should not have said that.

"Oh no, you did not just say that."  Racheal scoffed. "You honestly didn't just use that line on me right now."

My mother swallowed hard as Racheal returned her gaze to her.

"Who are you? Who are you to compare yourself to my mother? Have I not asked you never to call yourself my mother? You're not my mother, you can never be my mother. My mother was not a gold digger, my mother was not a slut that manipulated her way into other people's homes, into other people's lives. My mother was nothing like you. You wish you could be half the woman my mother was. You wish you could even be in her shoes."

Who would want to be in a dead woman's shoes anyway?

"Pathetic." She eyed my mother. "You have no shame. If you don't care about your reputation, at least care about the reputation of your children. Don't you even pity them at all?"

"Get out." I raised my head to hers. At that point I couldn't take it anymore, I couldn't just stand there and watch her run her mouth at my mum anymore, no matter what it was, she didn't have that right. At that point, I had had enough.