DON'T SKIP THIS!!!👇🏾

Author's Note: I forgot to bring this up in the last chapter, but it is what it is. Priscilla's mom- Diane South is actually obsessed with Tinkerbell.💀

Yes, she is. I'm glad a reader didn't just see that as sth normal. So, that's that for now.

Also, that hint I dropped in Part 1 of 'Photoshopped Personality' no one could even guess?🤣😭

Well, I said it.💀 No one will ever get the hint I dropped there. And that hint, hmm, you guys will be shocked when the time comes for it to be uncovered.😗

There will be another character that WOULD BE INTRODUCED LATER. Actually, two other major characters will be introduced as scenes unfold, but it would a gradual process- their introduction.

I'm particularly excited about the third character that will be introduced in this book, but before then, I'll achieve sth with the main characters I'm currently working with.😌❤

❤✨

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Enjoy!

☆PRISCILLA ELZER SOUTH☆~

Like a light bulb about to give out, my eyes twitched, having me breathe so hard as I watched the intense fight, getting nearly chaotic.

Uncontrollable feelings surged through my body, my fingers tingling in delight as she slammed her left fist at her opponent's already smashed face, before taking a backward move and flexing her muscles while waiting for the other to push herself up.

As the two female boxers circled at a steady pace, I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as I paused, no froze while watching them with utter bliss.

That was my anger outlet.

Watching TV- not just TV but my favourite boxing show calms me in ways nothing else can.

Digging deeper into my bottom lip, the sudden flinging open of my room door, got me lazily dragging my eyes away from the screen to behold whoever it was that stormed in unannounced at such an ungodly hour of the night.

My eyes rested on that beautiful but saddened face of hers, which had me letting out a frustrated, miserable sigh.

Where was she all this damn while? And why in the world is she in my room?

"Can you..." Mother stared in disgust at the television screen my eyes was once glued on. "Can you switch that off?"

No.

"Why are you here?" I was a bit pleased but more provoked seeing her for the first time since today.

"Your father told me everything you did. He's mad with rage, Cilla. I wouldn't have painstakingly made sure that your room looks this pretty and girly had I known you'd be such a disappointment." Mother said, snatching the remote from my hand as she went on to switch off the television.

I turned briefly, just in time to see the bloodied face of the defeated female boxer before the screen went dead.

Darting my eyes around the room, I glared at that pair of imposing bookcase which climbed all the way up to the top of each sides of the now covered ornate framed mirror. "I don't remember asking for you to make my room look this hideous."

I snapped.

"I'd rather soak in biographies and historical books than read those fictional books you read." My eyes were hard and frown etched all over my face, as daring wrinkles danced around it.

"Will you quit acting like a spoilt brat and come back to your senses?!" Mother barked, taking a step closer to me.

But that only made me chuckle darkly.

"Can you stop pretending to care when you don't. You knew everything that happened before now. And you did all this--" I raised my hand in demonstration. "--to feel better because it's your anger outlet. Aunty Tori already let me know!"

Her lips quaked as she sucked in a long breathe before letting out an exhale. And I watched her march towards the sofa my school bag was resting on, grabbing it harshly and unzipping it with contempt as she turned it over and let all the contents fall to the tiled ground.

What the hell was that for?

Mother stooped and reached for the brass knuckles, feeling it with her hands as she fluttered her eyes shut and shook her head in real disappointment.

And again, I feel utterly wronged because she doesn't have that right of condemning me when it's all her fault.

"You sneaked this from your father's holies of holy and used it on your classmate, Cilla. Do you know the mess you've put us in? That girl's father is the youngest sibling of the Governor and your father is seeking to get a contract from him!" Mother stated, stopping herself from letting out a yell.

I scoffed, not moved by her pity-show.

"He's Christian South. He'll surely find a way out of this mess." I deadpanned, getting her more shocked to her marrows.

"You know, I've tried everything a mother can but you're such an error in this family. You never understand love, kindness and affection when showed to you because for reasons unknown to me you're such a twisted, wicked daughter." Mother- - - Diane South spat out.

"Well, showing is better than telling and you've failed woefully in fulfilling your roles. So don't even try because I can never connect with you!" I bluntly retorted, causing her to raise her hand to strike me.

"Diane!" Her hand froze in the air as Aunty Tori dashed towards us. "Diane please, let her be. Her emotional batteries are dead. I- I mean down."

Aunty Tori glared at me as she darted her eyes around the room, sighting the mess mom created on the floor and finally staring at the covered ornate framed mirror before looking, sorry, glaring back at me.

"You better get yourself ready tomorrow because you must get on your knees before that sick girl and apologize!" That was mother's last words before she stormed off.

My nose scrunched in disgust upon what I just heard as I tilted my head to face dad's sister, hoping that she'll tell me this was some dumb joke.

"You're becoming more wild, Cilla. And you could hate your life." Aunty Tori sighed out in frustration, looking like a nagging housewife in that flowery flannel nightie of hers.

I gulped down the lump at the back of my throat. "I already hate my life. What was it that she was saying then?"

"Unlike your mother, I don't mind killing you to have you saved. Whine your mouth once more like that at me and I'll fed you your very own flesh, Priscilla." Aunty Tori said it like she meant it.

"I need my space." I stated, resisting the urge to eye her down.

"Sleep tight, Priscilla." She muttered, sighing for the nth time before leaving the same way she had entered.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

It wasn't even up to an hour.

There was this loud, disturbing noise that got me staring towards my room door, ready to jump out of my bed but I remember turning the key anti-clockwise after Aunty Tori left so I'm not bothered.

Rolling my eyes back to my phone, I kicked on from where I stopped. Going through the pictures I have of Austin and fighting through the maddening urge of deleting them or texting him that I'm sorry.

But I'm not sorry.

A loud bang got me sitting up on my bed, partially cutting through my attention like a blunt blade. There are all the reasons in the world not to give a single damn about whatever the fuck could be going on there, so I let out a deep breathe I never knew to have held in while leaning against one of my numerous feathery pillows.

"Foolish boy. You just had to ruin everything." I muttered under my breathe, using his words against him, even though he's not even here.

I hate that we weren't in this together. My plan of having a blissful suspension perished the moment I saw him behind those miserable teachers who act like they get paid real good.

And the more I think of it, I find reasons to despise Intel High the more. To despise those over dramatic teachers and students. And most especially, that Rosanne Mgbeke Igwe.

Stupid, trashy bitch.

There was another loud bang, but this time around it was more intense, creepy and dis-orienting. It was right on my room door!

"Open up!"

"No, no. Priscilla don't open this door!"

Dancing like a crazed bitch, was the prominent wrinkle on the fore of my head as it grafted into a frown while I tossed my phone aside and tried to figure out what in the exact hell could be going on here.

There was another violent knock on the door and I need not to be told to know that it was Father's.

"Seven seconds, Elzer. I'm giving you just seven seconds to open this door if you don't want it down and never fixed again! And you know, seven is a perfect number. All my actions are just and without blemish."

He yelled, causing the frown on my face to deteriorate into a scowl.

Climbing down from my bed, I slipped my feet into my crocs and tried to figure out what could be the best thing to do now.

What ever the fuck could be the reason why dad is out there at this time of the night, seeking entry into my room?! Trusting that man was like handing a ruthless robber a gun, thinking he wouldn't pull the trigger on you.

More like delulu.

"She's not going to open the door, Christian. Leave her out of this!" Mother yelled right back.

"I know you're not dumb, Priscilla, continue watching those crazy women fight. That's all you do, by the way. Get that TV volume on the high and bask in the sadistic motion of those boxers!" Her voice kept rising by an octave; if it was a tight fitting dress, it would have strained into a tear.

My blood froze. The possibility of that, I know not. But I felt it right within me, that the flow was gone and the mass of my stone cold body threatened to fall, leading me into a now state of hell.

The disgust accompanied with those words of hers was the catalyst that warmed my blood back into motion, bringing me back into a living state as I walked with long strides towards the door, turning the key clockwise and pushing it open in absolute rebellion against her wisdom-devoid words.

Diane gasped as her eyes took quick, frightening steps out of its sockets, widening like saucers.

Right before I could give her a piece of my mind, Father barged into the room, pushing me to the side with his huge frame.

My heart nearly raced. I should be bothered, scared, hyper. That wicked man was right inside my room; his intentions completely unknown to me.

"You're certainly out of your mind, Priscilla!" Mother... Diane spat out with a stoic look as she barged in as well.

I saw the disappointment on her face. I loved the disappointment on it. And I couldn't wait to seize more opportunities to have her continually disappointed in me.

Staring briefly at the dimly lit hallway from where they started their blood-sucking tiring fight, then at my fully lighted room where they stormed into for a possible continuity; I banged the door shut and turned with bored eyes, facing them.

"You told your mother you won't be going to the hospital with us, didn't you?" Father asked.

It was evident that he was pissed. No, bitter. Raged. Acrid.

He could have just gone straight to the violence. His fist were better and more soothing than his repulsive words that continually stirred indignation in me.

"You should be sleeping by now, Priscilla. Why are you even awake? Why are your lights on?" Diane asked, in vain trial of changing the topic.

"Because your little animated witches keep hunting me!" I barked.

"Don't talk to your mother in that tone, Elzer!" Father scolded, knowing how much that middle name of mine riles me up.

"Then lead by example!"

I snapped without thinking. It never occurred to me to think while talking to this man. It was never a calculative father-daughter interaction. But always an impulsive one.

"Cilla!" Diane gasped.

Oh please.

"It's obvious that there are still lots of trainings to have you undergo, you mannerless imp. But that's not my immediate problem. You heard my question, and I need that answer now."

His emphasis on his word had a chill running half-way down my spine. It didn't have the full weight to completely run down it. And so, I was in no way moved.

"I'd rather die than go visit Rosanne in that hospital and apologize." I deadpanned.

Laughing maniacally, Father's shoulders convulsed as he eventually shook his head as though I just said something stupid and funny.

"Love," He tilted his head to Diane, smiling and rubbing her right shoulder naturally as though they didn't just have their first heated phase of fight some minutes ago.

I noticed the way she stilled at his touch. It might have looked like a natural touch of a lover, but it was an un-craved, strange one.

"You must have told her wrong. Don't you think you should speak to your daughter?"

I scoffed at the word 'daughter'. If she saw me as one, she wouldn't use my nightmares against me. She wouldn't have dared to bring in that pathetic mirror, eye-sore of a butterfly potrait and mind wrecking bookcase into my room.

It was more gladdening that her usual beautification gifts of Lindsay Logan poster and Tinkerbell stickers weren't used this time around.

"You heard your father, Cilla. I'll help pick the dress you'd put on tomorrow to see Chairman Igwe's daughter. You need to look prim and proper as he'd be there with his wife, as well." Diane stated, walking towards my wardrobe.

"I still don't get you. I'm the one to be apologized to. You have no idea what made me do what I did, do you? And I'm freaking sure you aren't interested even now to know why." Gritting my teeth, I accused.

She stopped, turning in slo-mo to glare daggers at me.

"There's not justification for you, Priscilla. Nothing should have made you use that... that weapon on her! She didn't deserve it. Not then, not now and never will she."

Then you should consider adopting her as your daughter and also watch your problems multiply with wicked intensity.

"You sound like your husband right now." I retorted, glancing at him.

Father took a step towards me to strike my face but mother was right on time as she covered me with her frame and nearly received the hit on my behalf, had dad not quickly withdrawn his fist.

My lips parted but words couldn't flow through. This was going to be second time he attempted to hit me today and once again an uncalled saviour happened to come to my rescue.

It didn't just make sense. Why did she do it? Why did she try to save me from that hit?

For fucks sake, she could have gotten hit. That's why. That's why I'm slowly getting to despise her. Because her goodness makes no absolute sense to me.

An eye for an eye, I believe. But to her, that would eventually have the world go blind. And everyone should be focused on making the world better, she believes.

Non-sense.

"Your father wouldn't hesitate to kill you, Priscilla. Be thoughtful, girl!" Diane turned, rebuking me.

"You should worry for yourself, mom. Before lecturing me on being thoughtful, you should try being thoughtful too!" I snapped.

"Oh God," She shook her head in exhaustion.

"Your stubbornness and stupidity drains me a lot. You're such a handful and I'll rather be barren in my next life than have a child like you again."

Four, five, six seconds counting up till it was a minute, I could swear, my breathe seized alongside my heartbeat. My biology teacher needs to be thoroughly questioned cause every abnormal functioning of the body, starts and ends with me.

It was as though a well cut out glass was repeatedly pierced right into my heart with a full turn of it on each round, so it kept widening the hole in my heart.

It was a bitter attempt, but I forced those dry lips of mine into a horizontal split, having it stretch to the very end of my face as I fake smiled at her.

She deserved none of my emotions. Not hurt. Not happiness. Not even disappointment.

"I've never been under any obligation to be the perfect child to you. And I'll rather walk on pins than start now. Get used to the fact that I'm that difficult, terrible child and choke on it." I stated, remorselessly.

"That's exactly why I will have no mercy when dealing with you." Father spat out, grabbing me harshly towards him like I was an adamant goat as he proceeded to strangle me.

My entire life came to me then and there as a flash. It was longer than a gif, more intruiging than a regular goodbye scene and certainly more pathetic than most dark memes.

I loved how well I've lived my life and never once did I struggle as he squeezed and digged his fingers into my neck, blurring my vision.

But there was something unique about that incident. And that was how melodious my death-cough sounded.

What occured next, took me by surprise. And that was mother striking dad real hard on the head with that glass butterfly portrait on the wall. It was enough to have my dying self in full gear, come back to life.

It was humorous. But trust me (at your very own risk), it was the dark kind of it.

"Don't kill my daughter, you machoistic demon!" Mother screamed, taking a step back from her mess.

Set for business, I cracked my knuckles ready to bring to completion, the already begun work.

Taking few steps forward, I took a rough half of the now broken butterfly portrait and raised it towards dad who had fallen under mother's hit to the ground; almost striking him into oblivion with it.

It wasn't mother's loud, disjointed gasp that stopped me from carrying that out. But an awkward thought that consumed me right then and there.

I hissed, stepping back as I flinged that part of the butterfly portrait I was holding, hearing it crash into shards.

This wasn't nice.

Dad was still conscious and I wanted my hit to send him into unconsciousness. He'd remember when he wakes up that his daughter did that to him. He'd feel how it feels to be punched and experimented on with weapons of all sorts.

But I did pass.

"Ahhh, the devil is a liar!" The pushing open of my room door was accompanied with a loud scream as Aunty Tori stared at the messed up room with bulging eyes and erect hairs.

A dark chuckle emanated my lips.

"You're the one calling the devil that." I scorned, walking past her and out of the room.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Smothering me with their smiles were nurses on varying colours of scrubs going to and fro the depressing hallway, while I walked with an utterly provoked look on my face, behind Aunty Tori.

How I ended here happens to be another story of itself.

"Will you hasten your steps or do you want to have yourself embarrassed right here and now?!" She paused to threaten.

I was bored, tired and angry.

"Do whatever you want." I muttered.

"What did you just say, Priscilla?" She narrowed her eyes into dreadful slits.

Amplifying my voice, I answered. "Nothing commendable."

"Better."

Never did I see this coming. Never did I think this through because whenever I'm around dad, my actions are always impulsive. And now, I'm trapped into being a puppet.

Last night Aunty Tori went after me, had me follow her to her room and unveiled what I knew not, to me.

"Did you do that to your father?"

How accusing her words were! The urge to laugh maniacally was overwhelming.

"It depends. Do you think I did?"

"I don't think you're that stupid. You would never do that to him. But for the fulfillment of all supposed righteousness, I'm asking."

I shrugged. "She did it."

Aunty Tori sighed. Not out of anger, but sheer exhaustion. Cause definitely, she had seen this day coming.

"You have to go to the hospital tomorrow and apologize to Rosanne. Not to her parents, Cilla but to her. That's all. You don't even have to mean it. Even though I'm neither asking you to fake it."

"And if I disagree?"

Before she could retort, I continued. "She filled my locker with sand and asked me to die. I'm not even talking about the shit she said in my absence, she legit filled my locker with tens of papers having some dumb words on them!"

Aunty Tori looked livid with anger. I don't care if she was faking it but at least, she looked un-pleased and mad.

"I'm so sorry she did those mean stuffs to you. But here's the beef, you shouldn't have reacted the way you did. Do you have an idea that brass knuckles are banned in Nigeria? If her parents picks up the case, your father would be probed."

"Good for him, then. I'm also curious to know what sort of man has a whole room filled with arms. Most of which are banned in this country." I rolled my eyes.

"If he goes down, the family will go down as well. You, Cilla, will not be an exemption. I'm not asking you to do this because Christian wants to get a contract from Chairman Igwe's elder brother- the governor. But because you'll only end up making life miserable for yourself."

I nodded in concurrence.

"My life is not far fetched from misery. I'm only scared of being stuck in it."

"The Christian I know, will eliminate the other option of having you change school if you don't do what you should. He'll have you get married to someone you neither know nor love. And then you'd actually be stuck!" Aunty Tori stated.

I gulped down harshly.

This wasn't going the way I wanted. To start with, why did I listen to her words? Why didn't she pull the violence string on me and know who's more bloodier?

But she was so good with the mind game.

"Marriage is disgusting. I'll rather have a plane crash than marry." My mouth tasted like bile as I spoke.

"Eh?!" Aunty Tori exclaimed in shock.

I scoffed, not sparing her an explanation as I exited her room.

Halting, we were right in front of the VIP room where I'd get to kneel before that scum- Rosanne.

Aunty Tori prodded the button at the side and slowly, the door rolled open.

Author's Note:

🤣🤣🤣It keeps getting interesting, guys. So after the whole gra gra, Priscilla is going to apologize to that brat?

Back to their family fight.💀 What if She had actually hit Christian- her father with that stuff?💀

Kindly note the switch in Cilla's tone. When she called her mom by Name or referred to her as mother, in her mind.

So what are your conspiracy theories as regards Rosanne's family? How do you think they'll react to the imminent plea?

Last but not the least question guys, Which naked truth did you uncover from this chapter?😂😌

Till Next Update Guys.

Annyeonghi gaseyo.

Vote.🌚Share.🌝Comment.❤