3rd November 2007.

FCT Abuja,

Nigeria.

It took a while to finalize the adoption process along with all the documents Rabia will need to travel abroad with.

To say Rabia was surprised when she heard the man will adopt her will be an understatement.

She never thought that someone will adopt her. Much less an American! That wasn't all though, what made her head momentarily shut down was when she was informed that she'll move to America with him or as she says, Amurka.

From Miya to America. That was a huge promotion on her part.

At first she was wary of the man but then he had been nothing but kind to her. If anything, she'd say he has been more like a father to her than Baffa ever was. Of course, she wouldn't be so sure of that since she'd never had a father growing up. She has no memories of her birth father.

The man was rich—not excessively, but more than an average Nigerian man, so that meant she got so many new stuff that she had never dreamt of getting in her entire life. That was just the start though, the luxury she enjoyed abroad was much more than she got in Nigeria.

The day they were to leave Nigeria, was the first day she had ever been to the airport. Since she didn't have a passport back then, they couldn't fly to Abuja from Bauchi.

Rabia couldn't take her eyes off the place. She gawked at the beauty for she had never been to a place that beautiful. Her mouth hung open and times without number, the man walked ahead of her without realizing that she stayed behind gawking.

"Are we climbing this big bird?" She asked once they stood in front of the plane.

He looked at her and offered her a smile, "It's an airplane"

"Airplane?" She muttered to herself not believing a word he said. To her, all she saw was a big bird that people are entering. "Allah me iko" she muttered.

When they boarded the plane, she clutched his hand tight the minute she felt the plane moving. Her eyes well up with tears as she brought her legs up on the chair, "Muhammadu rasullullahi! Zan mutu, tsuntsu natashi" she sobbed.

Another point that helped her every now and then is the fact that the man understands Hausa so he understands every word she utters in her mother tongue. "Rabia I told you, it's a plane. Jirgi ne" he said to her lowly as he noticed some people turn to look at the two.

She could've chuckled at how his accent made the words he said in Hausa sound but she was in too much fear of flying a bird. She knew what a plane is but what she didn't know was that it looks like a bird. "Wayyo Allah" she muttered clenching her eyes shut. She almost screamed when she peeked at the window and saw clouds. She felt nauseous all of the sudden.

"Rabia what's wrong?" He asked when he noticed how pale her face looked.

"I feel nauseous" she muttered as she placed her hand over her mouth.

His eyes widened slightly. He could handle the embarrassment of her crying but vomiting is another issue entirely. "Please, dan Allah hold it in—"

He couldn't finish his sentence because the next second she did what he feared the most at the moment.

She puked.

~*~

New York, America.

The plane ride was an experience Rabia's adopted father didn't want to experience again. Ever.

If it wasn't for the airhostess that helped them, he wouldn't have known what to do. It was also another good thing that the two had extra clothes with them just in case of cases like that so they changed into it. The airhostess took care of the puke after throwing Rabia a glare that made the girl cower.

That didn't mean that they didn't receive stares from the other commuters though. Rabia didn't care about them, she only cared about herself and the bird she's on while the man was worried more about his daughter. Took her a while, but she fell asleep and thankfully, slept through the entire plane ride.

They were stopped in their airport just like other commuters so that they and their bags will be checked. Rabia watched with curious eyes as her foster father placed his suitcase in the CT scanner while a cop used the metal detector to search his body.

Her brows furrowed. She glanced down at her suitcase which she insisted on taking with her and then at the machine. Clearly, she's supposed to do the same thing he did right? So, she placed the suitcase in there.

But that wasn't the only thing she put there.

She removed her shoes and placed it there too. Looking at the size of the CT scanner, she contemplated if she would fit in there too. It would be much easier; it'll save time too.

She had no idea why they kept the bags there but the inquisitive part of her wanted to check and see what'll happen when she goes in there too. What happens to the bags? She wanted to find out.

So, she hoisted herself up and just as she was about to climb on it, a woman that was standing behind her in the line quickly held her back. "What are you doing?" She asked, her American accent, thick.

Rabia couldn't fully understand what the woman said because of that. She wasn't used to such accents. It's the type that only oyinbos use in Nigeria. And there were none in her village.

Thankfully, her foster father came to her rescue. He said something to the woman but Rabia wasn't paying attention to them, so she didn't know what he said. The same man from earlier searched her with the metal detector before they were allowed to take their bags and walk away.

They took a cab to the man's house and all through the drive, Rabia was so entranced by the city that never sleeps. She couldn't believe it.

She, Rabia is in America.

Rabia a Amurka!

Her father watched her with a small smile on his face. He knew it was all a new experience for her so he couldn't stay angry at her for long. All he was glad of was the fact that he changed the frown that was etched on her face when he found her in the orphanage last month, into the smile that's on her face at the moment.

He couldn't wait for her to meet his other son.

It took a while for them to arrive at this house but soon enough they did.

His house wasn't exactly a mansion or anything close to that. It was a simple home for a man with a stable job. To Rabia though, it was the biggest house she had ever seen in her entire life, and he is the richest man in her eyes.

They got off the cab, and her foster father picked up his suitcase and hers which consisted of the new clothes he bought her back in Nigeria. The house wasn't locked and so, he just opened the door and ushered her in. "Welcome to your new home Rabia"

"It's beautiful" she muttered as followed him in.

The house is modern from top to bottom, but it still gave the homely feeling one needs. Rabia wondered if she'll ever get use to such technological advancements. For a girl that moved from a village where they hardly get electricity three times a week, all these was overwhelming to her.

A seemingly middle aged woman and a little boy of probably the same age as Rabia, or maybe older, walked out of what seemed to be the kitchen. Rabia watched the two curiously. When her eyes met that of the woman, she hid behind the man because for some reason, the woman's face doesn't settle right with her. She had this frown etched on her face that made Rabia feel uneasy. Her small eyes that reminds her of people from China, not that she had ever seen one, but it's a popular reference back in her village-- made chills run down her spine.

The whole woman's posture made Rabia feel uneasy for some reason.

"Maria, this is my daughter, Rabia" Her foster father said to the woman who glanced at Rabia, then offered her a curt nod.

Is she his wife? Rabia wondered in her head.

The man didn't seem to give much care to the woman's odd behavior towards Rabia though, he knew that's how she is normally. So, he turned to his son next and offered him a small smile, "Noah, meet your new sister, Rabia"

Noah glanced at Rabia, his eyes held an emotion she couldn't decipher. It was as if he was silently telling her something but she didn't get what exactly. For a minute, the curious part of her got the best of her because she couldn't take her eyes away from the boy that seemed to be just a year older than her.

There's just something she couldn't exactly point a finger that.

What is it?

He didn't say a word to her. He just glanced at his father, before he turned around and walked back to wherever he walked out of. Maria followed after him not sparing the girl one more glance, Rabia didn't mind though. She'd choose for the woman to not talk to her any day than to stay and deal with the creepy looks she gets from her. It was simply nerve wrecking and Rabia, wasn't sure how much she could take.

A girl could only take so much in a day.

The man shook his head before he crouched on his knees in front of Rabia, he offered her a small smile—he seemed to be doing that a lot since they arrived. "Don't worry about him, he's a bit shy. He'll come around, I'll make sure of it"

She nodded, she still wasn't the type to talk. She's been through a lot in the past few months that she had lost the talkative part of her.

"Let's get you settled in yeah?"

She nodded wordlessly.

The room she was taken to was medium size. Though to her, it's more like the size of Anty Maryama's room and living room merged together. It didn't seem like it was used by anyone before judging by how everything looked new and untouched. Nothing seeming out of place or used.

The painting of the room is a plain cerise, with white curtain covering the window that without a doubt gave a beautiful view of New York City. A fairly big pearl white closet was situated opposite the window. Beside it is a small vanity table that only had a few things on it. Covering the medium sized bed is a shell pink bedsheet which has an intricate pattern on it, along with teddy bears—about five to be precise beside one pillow that lies on the bed.

That was pretty much everything in the room. Nothing too fancy, but it's more than Rabia could ever ask for.

The two had dinner together before he let the girl retire for the night. But, before then, he turned on the air conditioner on for her so that the heat won't bother.

Now to a normal person, that wouldn't be much of a problem.

However, for Rabia, it was a huge one.

Somehow, she managed to get on her toes and open the window so that the 'cold air' will go out. He didn't even turn the AC that high but she just had to. She wasn't used to such things; it'll take a while to get accustomed to it and everything else here.

She then walked back and slipped under the covers—pulling it over her head. She didn't try to turn off the lights. She wasn't sure how she'll be able to sleep in the dark alone. The last time she slept alone in a room is back when she was in Malam Dalha's house. That felt like ages ago at the moment.

The urge to sleep was more so it didn't take her long to drift off.

That night, just like every night for the past couple of months, she dreamed of a girl whose name starts with 'R', ends with 'A' and is six feet under.

That was a nightmare she never escaped from.

~*~

4th November 2007.

Rabia walked into the kitchen the next day. Her foster father had left for work already, so he left her in the hands of Maria. For some reason, Noah was still at home at the moment. It could be that he wasn't going to school today, but then again, it's a weekday. What could the reason possibly be?

However, whatever it is, it wasn't Rabia's place to ask. From the way they acted towards her the day before, she knew that they don't like her. It either that or they are both grumpy people. Since they arrived at night, she just ate food along with the father before she went to bed.

So she kept quiet and didn't ask questions that will get her in trouble with the woman and boy. Just like the night before, both had frowns etched on their faces and she wasn't sure what to feel regarding it. Relief that she doesn't have to deal with them? Or fear that their silence means something?

"I'm overthinking this" She mutters to herself before her eyes met Maria's—the same look that was in the woman's eyes last night lingered.

Maria had a spatula firmly held in her hand, her red manicured nails curling around the metal handle. She pointed to the stool near Noah with the spatula. And quietly, Rabia did as she was ordered.

Rabia fidgeted with her fingers as a deafening silence took over the small but moderate kitchen. The only sound coming from where Maria stood, cooking up their breakfast. Normally she would've appreciated the silence, but the tension that came along with it in that kitchen made her shift uncomfortably on her seat. She contemplated on asking Maria about her foster father. He may not be much but she'd prefer his company over theirs any day.

"He won't be back any time soon," A quiet voice snapped her out of her day dream.

"Huh?" She called out, not understanding what he meant. Could she have said her thoughts out loud or was she just easier to see through.

"Dad. He doesn't come back early, ever. The earliest he comes back home is a few minutes to or after midnight"

Rabia's brows furrowed. Was the man trying to kill himself or something? How can a person work that long? It's insane.

"We're used to this but it wouldn't hurt for him to come him early a couple of times at least right?" Maria cut into their conversation, her back facing them. Rabia didn't think that they were that loud that she could hear them. "I mean he has other people to take care of himself!"

"She's not my mother you know. Nor is she Dad's wife" Noah whispered so only Rabia could hear. He could see the hesitation in her eyes before he said that. She probably thought that Maria is his wife so, couldn't voice out her real thoughts in fear of what'll happen to her.

"Then who is she?" Rabia whispered back wanting to know what line to cross and which not to cross.

"My nanny" Noah whispered, again---a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips. That's the closest thing to a smile she had ever gotten out of him.

Rabia nodded as she understood that Maria is just a Nanny in the house. But is she really just a Nanny?

~*~

Rabia opened the door of her room slightly careful not to make any sound, not wanting to wake the others that are asleep without a doubt. She should be too, but she needed to drink water at the moment and she couldn't hold it back in. Though she's still somewhere on borderline sleep and awake, she's able to make out some sounds through her slightly blurry gaze.

It was half an hour past midnight. She had slept off three hours ago after Maria agreed and gave she and Noah ice cream, or 'anskrim' as she calls it, after dinner. Rabia loved the cold heavenly tasting delights and she was sure that if she'll be given that during her stay there in America, then it'll be an experience she'll never forget.

Just as she stepped a foot out, she heard hushed muffled whispers. The curious part of her took over and soon enough, she had her ears in the direction she heard the sounds, fully concentrated on making out the words they're saying.

"Stop that"

"Or what?" That is her foster father's voice, she could tell.

"Or I'll be forced to take matters into my own hands. You should know what I'm capable of" The first person repeated. A voice she could then recognize anywhere but her head was struggling to pin it on who it belongs to. Probably due to the fact that she's sleepy.

"Is that a threat?" Her foster father asked, and for some reason he didn't sound like he's scared. He sounded like he was daring the person.

"No..." The person's voice trailed off and the eerie silence that followed was spine chilling, "It's a promise" That was when Rabia recognized who the voice really belonged to.

Nanny Maria.

~*~

Okay, I'm done for this week. See yall next week!

I believe I've tried enough sha. I've been spoiling y'all with updates upan down.

Jumuat Kareeem.

Share please. Do comment and vote!

Love, Jannah.