Thank you for 24k reads, guys! Chop kiss!!!

Oh, and yeah, I know. I'm not even following the schedule I wanted to use to update, but oh well. Don't we all ditch schedules too? Lmaoo! ENJOY YOUR READ OOO!!

~DABI~

Wow, I survived this week. Who could have known it was a possible task?

You know one of the worst things that can happen to you in Castron High? It's being the MAIN center of attraction for something that isn't good. And everyone is so bold to express just how they feel about you.

Trust me, you don't want to experience that.

Not that they've ever really liked me, anyway. Figures, I'd always been the outcast amongst the sisters. But, they've never been so bold to show it out so openly before.

It was worse back in the days of Junior School anyways. I won't stop thanking my God that this time, I have a cover. Those days, I was a lone walker, and after what I did to that Jelanie girl, it was the worst struggle fighting for my own survival.

If Chika didn't stop to pick me up and help me, only God knows whether I would have been alive today.

I didn't particularly think a time like this repeat itself, but apparently I am the 'most hated' by the girls of my set. All because of a boy.

The mere sight of Class F girls terrified me even more now, more than they've ever had in the past.

I always knew when they were coming, I could almost smell them.

Ajiroghene was the queen of Class F; a fact that has been embedded in everyone's head, since Ss1. A horrifyingly ghetto girl in our set who was large enough to bulldoze a multitude in a fight, if she wanted to. The only girl in our set who was ever so free with people like Kaniru George, laughing with him, bullying with him.

Ajiro was usually my indicator that Class F girls were around the corner. All I needed to hear was her loud, baritone voice booming round the block, and knowing fully that the rest of Class F girls were going to be surrounding her like little flies, I took cover.

I still didn't understand how the turn of events came to be. How that video of us came out.

After missing Dance Class that week, Yukerya had called to find out what the problem was.

At first, I dodged questions, because I was now even skeptical about her. And since most of them were in forms of texts, it was easier.

I had lied to Mum I was going to Dance Class, so she wouldn't have my head for missing out. But, then, that meant I was stuck with the twins 'Saturday Ordeals'. And for today's task, as they called it;

"We will be giving medicine and food to the sick, homeless people in front of Gomery." The Onuoha Twins deadpanned.

I swear, I didn't think they was serious.

But both her and her sisters had the straightest face on, as they said it.

And after about half an hour drive with them in their Dad's jeep, and a fair view of the road that led to Gomery that I knew well, I realised that thy weren't really joking at all.

"Why though?" I asked them.

Both girls looked at me, at the exact same time, peering their identical, pretty, yet, intimidating eyes into mine.

"Because they're sick." Ebere responded.

"Seconded." Ebube said. "And they need enough food, if they're going to have medicine. You know how dangerous medicine is without food?"

I know. I take a lot of Psychotics, so I'm pretty well aware.

I actually originally wanted to ask them was why they seemed to care that much about it? I mean, yes, you should care. And yes, the twins have always been ones to be extremely particular about physical health and fitness. But still, coming from the twins, this gesture was huge.

But after both the responses from the twin, I figured I shouldn't ask them more questions. I knew why.

So, I followed the twins to feed the sick, homeless people, and make sure they took all the medicine appropriately.

I fleetingly remembered last Thursday, when they had, again, made us (the sisters) join them on the Track Field, for another session of the Try-outs.

"You." Ebere had particularly singled out a junior student after the first match.

Not having much to do, as usual, I had been actually watching those kids on the track, very carefully. Especially the girl that Ebere had singled the out because she clearly took first position on the track, with a good distance behind her, separating she and the girl who took second.

When specially called, she stood before the twins, nervous. The slim, average-heighted, extremely, extremely cute girl who was undoubtedly.... Not from here?

She sounded Nigerian, but didn't look Nigerian. She undoubtedly was mixed. Her brown, curly hair and milky light skin gave her away.

"Me?" She had trembled before the twins. Quite badly.

"Breathe." Ebere had told her, surprisingly calm.

The girl still looked like she was swallowing in fear, panic, and anxiety.

I would know, because I do that a lot.

"You're not breathing," Ebube had somehow detected. "Breathe."

It took about a minute or two, but when they 'detected', she was 'okay', they continued to address her.

"Why did you come here?" Ebere had asked her.

"To.." She stammered. "To run track."

And she got the first position, so I was confused at the twin's question, as well.

But in all honesty, I had watched them disqualify an entire set, starting from the last to the first, so...

"Why?" Ebube had asked her.

Both girls had folded their arms as they waited for an answer from the girl who looked like she was about to shit herself.

"You're not well." Ebere deadpanned.

"What? Well?" She had blinked in confusion.

"You're sick." Ebube had hit the nail on the head.

The half-caste junior girl faltered, stepped back.

"No, it's not true... I.." She started to say.

"Don't do that." Ebere shook her head, calmly. "Don't lie to us."

"Seconded." Ebube came in. "We can see right through you. Your health is faulty."

"And you know." Ebere had said.

The girl looked like a horror film.

"So, why then did you come for Try-outs if you knew your health wasn't stable enough?" Ebube asked her.

That was when she broke her act.

"I just wanted to run track!" She cried. "I really want this, please!" She pleaded with the twins, who didn't look like they were the slightest bit fazed.

"You're good." Ebere acknowledged. "But no."

"Not a chance." Ebube added.

The girl looked like she was about to cry.

"Now, get lost from our track." Ebere said to her.

"But-"

"Get. Lost." Ebere repeated, unmoved. "And don't show your face here again. Ever. Don't try it."

The girl had ran off, crying.

And I actually felt terrible for her.

But the twins? They looked unbothered.

"That's was.... Rude." It was Prissy, their partner, who had found it in her to comment after the Junior girls were gone. She looked clearly unimpressed.

And I got to say, for someone who hang an awful amount of time with Giwa Falade, she was one to comment.

Ebere scoffed. Replied Prissy. "Well, her brother is rude."

I frowned. "Who's her brother?"

Prissy was the one who spared a moment of her time to answer my question.

"Ivandor Fejaun." She told me.

Oh.

Prissy went on to lecture the twins on how wrong it was to insinuate the girl had a sickness and for that reason could not be let into the group, even with the fact that she was undoubtedly the best one that they had seen yet.

But Prissy didn't get it. She didn't understand.

And if you didn't notice, throughout the entire scene, neither Chika nor Soma actually said a word.

So, you see, we understood the twins and were they were heading at.... Even if their procedure was a bit rude, as Prissy had declared.

That was one of the reasons too, I didn't question the twins on their little ordeal with the sick, homeless people as well.

I knew just why the twins were so particular about physical health.

And I quietly followed them to do what they were doing. No questions asked.

When I did talk to Yukerya about what happened over the phone, she had assured me it wasn't a big deal.... But how would she know? She wasn't in Castron High to see how my classmates were interpreting the whole thing.

"A dance video got out, what's the big deal?" She wasn't getting it.

She didn't get the back story of this whole thing.

So, I needed to go on and elaborate the responses from classmates concerning the video. I also explained how much people had already been insinuating I was acting like a complete desperate fool for being all over Marcus Acha, even before the video had gone viral.

The video was just more proof of my stupidity. It wasn't just a dance video.

"If that boy said he didn't send the video, then why don't you believe him?" She had asked me.

It's more possible to believe it was him. Who else would? I wanted to say.

"Dabi," Yukerya had called me. "If you both were dancing together, for starters, he couldn't have taken a video of himself and you...."

I was well aware. Of course, someone else should have taken the video for him. Obviously.

"So, do you want to insinuate there are snitches in my class. People who will co-plan with him just to bring you down. C'mon, if you don't trust the boy, what about us?"

"That's the thing, it could have been an innocent gesture," I said. "What if they just gave him the video without pondering on the idea that he wanted to use it against me?"

In all honesty, I wasn't even sure what to think anymore. Everyone and everything was just confusing me.

And what on Earth was I even supposed to think about Marcus Acha when I had clearly seen him, with those brutal boys, after they had nearly killed another student, that Sports Day. What was I to think?

"If he did do all that to you, as you're thinking, why is he desperately trying to prove his innocence then?" Yukerya asked me.

I shrugged, not having an answer.

"Look, I know nothing about Marcus," She said. "But, it just doesn't make sense to me how someone would do something to harm someone. Something they well know is going to go so public, like this. Then, deny it so earnestly. Like, really go through the stress of trying so desperately to prove it's not them. It doesn't make sense to me."

I stayed quiet.

"The world is a very small place. You never know if they had perhaps, posted it somewhere, even as little as WhatsApp Status, and it got into the wrong hands."

"You know I have always made it clear to everyone that I didn't want any of my videos out to the public." I said.

"Yes, and that's exactly why whoever defied instructions by posting videos of people without consent will have to pay for it." Yukerya said.

You see? That's the problem. No one had EVER posted before! So, why did things change when Marcus stepped into my dance class? How am I supposed to believe that it wasn't him?!

"A classmate sent the video to the Pages Admins." I told her. Made sure to hint on the word 'classmate'.

"And even if that is true, what guarantee do you have that none of my students have a 'classmate'" - she quoted - "connected to them, in some way?"

I couldn't answer her question.

"This is the first time someone from my class has posted your video, yeah?" She went on. "So. Isn't that an eye opener that indeed, someone from my class may just para-adventure know someone else who goes to your school?"

That fact unsettled me.

But it was possible.

After all, Castron High and Yuki's Dance Studio was still in the same Nigeria. Same Lagos State. Still in the same Lekki.

People are bound to know each other somehow.

People from Dance Class could possibly even have personal relationships with any of my classmates from Castron High. What if the entire thing wasn't even as direct as I thought? What if it's all a big complicated loop? What if one thing led to another which led to another that led to another? One person to another to another to another to a couple more others..... Then, the admins?

"Dabeluchi," Yukerya had told me. "You have a talent."

"Thank you." I muttered.

"Whether these people will ever admit it or not, that fact will never change. You are very talented." She said.

I didn't know where she was heading, but courtesy demands I still say, "Thank you."

"And, a deep part of me had been wishing and praying that somehow, you'd have the courage to let the world see what a talent you have. I had always wanted everyone to see and know about this talent you're so afraid to show the world," She told me.

I said nothing.

I had never wanted anyone to know, really. That was exactly why I had always pleaded with my dance class mates to keep my videos, a secret.

That has always worked until Marcus Acha walked in to completely disorganize my life.

"You may not see it now," Yukerya said to me, "But believe me, in the long run, this video leaking out, may be the start of something incredibly beautiful in your life. It may just be a blessing in disguise."

I honestly doubted.

And even if it had to get out to the world, even if this was leading up to something good, why in this manner? Why do I have to go through this much?

Does pain always have to come before pleasure?

"And that boy, Marc..." Yukerya had smiled at me as she called him.

"What about him?" I asked, my face was straight.

"You know how they say that everyone who you ever come across in your life isn't a mistake. They all are there for a reason. The good. The bad. Even the ones who may seem irrelevant or not adding to your story at all?" She asked.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"In reality, they all do create a balance," She said. "You may not see it because it doesn't particularly reflect in your story, and you're the protagonist of your own story. But if these good people, bad people, even the irrelevant ones who don't play any major role in your story, aren't there, or if they never existed, a lot of things would have drastically changed." She said.

"I don't get the point," I admitted.

"I'm getting there," She said. "Everything happens for a reason. A good reason. Everybody you meet in life makes up your story. If they aren't there to make your life worth while, or even miserable, or even if they do nothing but walk pass you and ever see you again, then things wouldn't be the same."

Okay..

"I mean, who knows the random weird looking stranger who walked past you probably was the one who distracted you for a second or two, making you miss getting hit by a bus, by the seconds you spent being distracted, and you may never just know," She said.

I had laughed a little at that one. But it was true.

"The good ones make life worth living." She continued.

I smiled at the thought of the sisters. As well as Dance Classmates.

"The bad ones push you to make a difference," She went on.

I swallowed.

"But, in the end," She was saying, "Everything and everyone, life itself is balanced."

Life is balanced? Yukerya's unpopular opinion.

"Life is balanced," She said again, like she wanted me to get it into my head.

She went on;

"Even if it seems like life would be better without all the stress or drama, sometimes, and indirectly, all these lead you to your break through. They all still make up your world, and in turn, your success story. And really, what is a successful person without a good story?" Yukerya said to me.

Wow. I had thought.

"You have a beautiful story ahead of you, Dabeluchi," She told me.

I hope so.

"And that boy, Marcus..." She went back to her original statement.

"Yeah?" I asked softly.

"I'm not a fortune teller, but I am certain that he is a major character in your story." Yukerya said to me.

I couldn't get that line off my head the whole entire day.

I even started to ask myself if this entire thing; Me, not wanting to give Marcus Acha any credit, had to do more with me, than it did with him, anyway.

Was I just fuelling myself with the idea that a boy like him wouldn't actually take me seriously, even for a moment? And just looking for a way to prove to myself that indeed, I was delusional for thinking he ever had good intentions with me?

And so, even though he wasn't the one who sent the video, he had said it himself that he wasn't going to let anyone know he came to see me.

I had already wondered why. Not like I wanted it, but I was curious why he didn't want to.

The next best thing to think was that he may have just been too embarrassed to let anyone know he was coming for me.

I mean, for starters, that day in class when he had completely walked out without saying a word to me, what was that all about?

And then, the letter that was passed down to me. The 'Hey' note. It had to be Acha, right? So, he couldn't even be caught dead talking to me in public that he had to go through discreet means, like a 'note'.

So many things weren't just adding up.

I was even starting to have a headache. And I wasn't thinking of starting this weekend out with a headache.

Weekends were already bad enough for me. Ironic how the weekend is supposed to be people's favourite time of the week, and for me, it's far from that.

This morning alone, I woke up to Mum's screaming and nearly had a heart attack.

Only God knows what happened wherever it happened in this cursed mansion, but even if it wasn't above Mum's screaming, I heard my growls from my Dad, as well as the irritating shrieks of 'Wretched old Woman' from Delilah, and I nearly ran mad.

It was sooo irritating and unnerving to imagine Delilah being present as my Dad beat my mum to a pulp, it was so disturbing.

As the screams got louder, I pressed my hands to my ears, crying in fear and panic, as I imagined the worst. Heart, beating like a drum, hands, quivering, shaking, my whole body, trembling as I imagined the damn worst!

I wanted to scream for help, run upstairs and attack my father, do something, ANYTHING! But, like the pathetic wimp I was, I stayed there, crawling around the floor of my room, eyes, blurring with tears as I cried, rolled, screamed, whizzed.

When the screaming stopped, I still wasn't the same.

And for a moment when I looked towards that window that made it easy to easy see the house that neighboured us, I felt so much indignation.

How people will know the terrible things that happen behind the scene, and do absolutely nothing to help.

Didn't Casper Bassey live in that house!? His mother, his father, his siblings, would they say they don't know anything by now!?

Why was everybody so silent!

I was so angry even thinking about it. So, so angry. I could literally feel my blood boil over.

But then....

A part of me kept reminding me of the fact that indeed, after that first day I saw Casper's face in full, I hadn't seen him anywhere that house, till date.

So many things I just didn't understand! Too many fucking things!

Like, why the fuck does my life have to be so frustrating!?

Why do the most unreasonable things HAVE to happen to ME!?

Why the fuck does Dad go out of his way to make Mum's life a living hell? Why does he use every bone in his body, every ounce of his strength, every chance with Delilah, to just make my mother's life a misery?!

Why? Why? WHY!?

It honestly seemed off. Like, there was something missing. Something I couldn't pick up. It infuriated me!

To make things worse, Delilah was already on her way to her fancy date with my father this evening. And that witch hadn't stopped to continuously remind my mother of the fact that she was going to Dinner with her 'boyfriend'. Someone's husband, for Christ Sake.

And that bastard of a man who was my father: He couldn't stop showering all sorts of praises on her after she had sashayed out of the Master's bedroom, wearing that bright red, short, expensive dress that hugged her curvy body frame. 

You can just imagine how. You can just imagine.

And you know what I didn't understand? Dad and Delilah had been in the room all evening, preparing together, so I didn't get why he had to wait until Delilah came out of the room to be in my mother's view for him to start with all his compliments.

And I just thought to myself; If I thought living in this house is such a nightmare. Then, just how did my Mum feel herself. She was the one who was being directly affected.

This woman had to wake up everyday to watch the man she loved pick a younger, more beautiful woman over her, right in her presence, everyday, and even in front of her own children. Having the man she loved treat her like garbage on a regular. Turn her into a punching bag. And adore another woman right before her, with absolutely no regard or respect for her.

If I thought my life was hell, then what was my mother living in? What?

I was pondering on that thought for so long and that was one of the reasons I had made up my mind that I would miss Dance Class again, for her sake. So, while I heard my Dad and Delilah chattering and cackling on their way out of the house, I helped Mum with the dirty dishes that were still waiting for her in the Kitchen.

The only comforting thing was the smell of ginger and garlic in the Kitchen. Funny how I should hate that smell since Mum's hands always smelt that way, having that most of her time, she was in the Kitchen. I should hate the smell... But I didn't.

Most of the time I was here in this suffocating Kitchen that triggered claustrophobia which I didn't have, I kept moving from the metallic sink where the dirty disgusting and smelly dishes were scattered, to the wooden dusty cupboards at the other ends of the small-spaced, stained white walls of the Kitchen, to steal some pieces of ginger I think Mum had forgotten she left in there.

"So, you're not going to that your Dance Class today, ehn?" 

Only Mum would care about that.

But there was only one problem...

That voice sounded nothing like hers.

I said nothing. Absolutely nothing. Kept scrubbing the ceramic flat plate with the not-so-clean iron sponge that was almost only producing something that looked like soot, instead of soap foam.

"This girl! Why are you always behaving like somebody who has gone deaf! Am I not speaking to you!" She screamed at me.

I didn't stop scrubbing.

"But if it's to finish beating all the garlic in the house, you'll be so active!" She was literally fuming, screaming like a mad person.

I turned on the sink tap to start rinsing the plate.

Delilah charged me like a tiger.

One minute, I was rinsing off the foam and dirt off the plate, and the next minute, I felt myself being slammed against the wall by the doorway, nearly having a broken spine, and having long, acrylic nails digging into the skin of my face, so painfully.

Delilah held my face with one of her hands, digging her fingers in, and looking at me with the most evil, glare ever, and bile rose up my throat as I contemplated slamming the plate on the sink into her damn face.

"Leave me alone!" I tried to scream, struggling to get her hands off my face, as it seemed she was pinning her nails to my teeth from the outside of my cheeks - if that was possible, that's what it felt like. It was so damn painful.

"What's your problem!" She spat venom at me, and I closed my eyes to avoid looking at her demonic ones, still tried to struggle to get her nails from the depth they seemed to find in my skin, as I writhed in pain.

Whatever she was screaming about didn't process in my brain because of the pain she was exerting on me. I screamed, screamed for my life. Screamed muffled painful shrieking screams as I struggled in her clutches, crying out loud and begging for my life.

And then suddenly, when I thought Delilah was about to slam my head against the metallic sink....

She stopped.

Wait... What?

She actually stopped.

She stopped.

She.... stopped?

Just like that.

Just like that.

Just like that.

Everything came to a complete halt. And it was suddenly a peaceful air surrounding me. So peaceful that I could hear birds chirping outside to the beauty of the morning.

And nothing, No one was here in the Kitchen with me. It was just me, and the dishes. Delilah was not here......

She never was.

I was so confused.

"DABELUCHI!"

The sound of my Mum's shrieking voice screaming my name jolted me into shock and the plate joggled in my hands, before slipping out and landing on the tiled ground, shattering to tiny, miserable pieces.

"Oh no! No! No! What have you done!" Mum screamed in terror, rushing to the bits of shattered ceramic on the ground, picking them one by one, horrified and in a state of absolute panic.

"Oh my God! What have you done! Delilah will kill us! Your father will hang us!" Mum was crying in fear, shuddering, picking up the pieces like it was going to do any help to fix the damage.

I felt awful, watching her in this state. Mum wasn't one to show much emotion, but she was dead scared, and it was so obvious that it showed. How scared she was of her own husband and his awful side chick, who fucking lived under a roof with her.

"I..." I almost broke down, crying. "I'm sorry, Mum... You scared me, and I thought... I just thought Delilah was here and -"

She paused on the ground, a piece of broken plate in her hand and looked up at me instantly, and my words died in my throat when I I saw the left side of her face.

That part of her face was swollen; her eyes looked closed and wounded, and they were several wound marks all around the injury on her face.

It was actually disgusting to look at but I couldn't look away because I couldn't move. It felt like glass pierced into my chest and punctured my heart as I looked at her.

He couldn't have hit her with just his hands. That thing couldn't have formed on her face, with just a fist.

"Delilah isn't here, Dabeluchi." Mum stood up straight to say this to me, calmly, almost carefully or patiently. I swear it looked like her good eye was twitching as though she was holding back an explosion of irrational emotions.

"She was here!" I almost screamed.

"So, that's why you were screaming," Mum said to me. Like she was counting her words. Patiently. "Because you thought you saw Delilah?"

 "I saw her, I'm not crazy!" I shouted, my head was hot. "I swear I saw her! She was just standing here, just now!  Screaming at me! Just here she was standing JUST FUCKING NOW! Holding me and digging her nails into my face! She was here, I swear I saw her-"

"NO, YOU DIDN'T!" Mum lost it, exploded as she screamed at me with a voice I didn't know she had.

I wanted to protest, but I couldn't find my voice. I know what I saw!

"YOU COULDN'T HAVE SEEN DELILAH BECAUSE SHE LEFT THE HOUSE OVER AN HOUR AGO!" She screamed at me, and breathing seemed to become more difficult.

I know what I saw... I'm not crazy... I'm not crazy...

"But I thought... I swear I..." I couldn't even speak because I knew Mum was right. Delilah and Dad were supposed to have left the house over an hour ago.

Mum didn't even say much to me afterwards. She just started picking up the pieces of broken plate on the ground as I got lost trying to connect puzzles and understand what the hell just happened some minutes ago. Or, what I thought just happened.

"Leave those dishes and meet me in my room in the next five minutes." She told me as she attempted to leave with the pieces she gathered.

"Why?" I dared to ask.

She looked at me, slapped me with a dead look that was anything, but comfortable.

"Don't ask me questions, Dabeluchi." She deadpanned.

I knew she wanted me there for my medicine.

That fact made my blood boil over.

"I'm not crazy." I muttered in a low growl.

She didn't respond to that particular statement.

"And when you're done, don't return back to those dishes," She warned me. "You have Dance Class this morning and evening"

**************

I didn't go for Dance Class the whole day.

Fortunately, Dad or Delilah hadn't come back from wherever they went to, and I didn't care. A part of me wished they had a mysterious accident and just died.

That would solve a half of our problems.

Surprisingly, Mum didn't force me to go to Dance Class as I thought she would, but she did force me to keep up with the night medication.

While the Sisters entertained me a whole lot the entire evening with all their silly stories and drama, I had a degree of fun. Although, a part of me kept crying inside and couldn't help but feel bitter at how it almost seemed like I was hanging on to these girls too much for my own sanity.

Chika was telling a brief story about a new girl in her Underground Fight Club. Soma was talking about Noble, and how he was thinking of coming back from China to see her soon. And some animations she recently saw. And her new drawings... Soma talked about quite a lot of things. And the twins were talking about some Internet feud they had gotten into, this time around.

I had nothing to talk about.

What would I talk about with these girls? My dad? Delilah? Stephen?

Lord, Stephen.

I had walked into his room today and it took everything in me to not break down in tears. Getting reminded of the fact that this boy was my twin brother, but had never spoken to me since we were seven both hurt and scarred me.

Stephen's room was a nightmare.

It was the same as it was ten years ago; His action figures, toy cars, comic books, and broken drones were littered on the ground. He loved to play with all those things since he was a kid. They were still there, littered around the room..... As though he still played with them. 

And the cot - the little baby's bed we kept until we were seven, just because we wanted to have something to role play with - was still there, in it's corner of the room by the right end just where the opened window shone rays of light from the sun down on it.

Asides all that, his room was surprisingly always neat. His bed was always arranged properly with that Spiderman bed sheet he always loved. We never watched shows like that, he just heard about Spiderman from school one day, and asked for one. Shockingly, Dad always had a liking for Stephen that I didn't understand, and to his luck, he always got a form of special treatment.

Stephen's wardrobe wasn't left open like mine too. It was shut tight, properly closed. His desk was always empty and clean, if Mum didn't set food on it. There were no mirrors in his room, and the entire place was the colour he had declared when we were five was his favourite colour: Blue.

I had walked in on Stephen, sitting there on his desk, wearing only his Ben 10 boxers, and vigorously scribbling something in a note pad with all his concentration.

He hadn't even noticed me walk in.

A part of me broke into two because there was one fact I knew about Stephen. Since we were kids, he loved to draw all sorts of large robots, monsters from Ben 10, and all sorts of hideous characters from all those his comic books. 

I almost cried, watching him.

When would he grow past all these?

When would he speak to any of us?

I thought that he always had all those doctors coming over, so why wasn't he getting any better?

I quietly started leaving the room, for him to have his peace. I don't even know why my Mum wanted me to come and check on him anyway.

I stopped at the door when something hit me.

Stephen.

He was supposed to be drawing one of his comic book characters, right?

But something wasn't right.

There was no comic book on that desk. It was just Stephen, a piece of paper, and a pencil.

So, he couldn't have been drawing from the comic book. He was drawing, just by himself.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"What are you drawing?" I had asked him out loud.

He didn't hear me. Not when he was so engulfed in whatever he was doing on that piece of paper.

"Stephen?" I called. He didn't hear me. Didn't notice my presence.

"Stephen." I called again. Nothing.

I walked over to him and I thought he would have noticed my presence as I stepped up close, but when he didn't, I reached out to touch him, placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

Stephen jumped from my touch.

His next reaction probably scarred me.

He held my hand, tore it away from his shoulder, and pushed me. So damn hard. Shocking me with the level of strength I didn't know he had.

He was quick to tear out the sheet of paper from his note pad, crumble it so fast and threw it far away from him like it was a bomb.

I had never seen him act that hysteric before. It scarred me.

You know what I couldn't even stop thinking about even more? You know the thing that scarred me even more than Stephen's outburst? It was the part of his drawing that I had caught sight of before he had pushed me away.

It was a lady's breasts.

So, you see, this was even too much for me to comprehend. And as many times as the Sisters noticed I had zoomed out during their group video call and asked questions, I kept shut.

I knew these girls knew I was lying. I always gave excuses and lies for everything as far as it would conceal all the atrocities that happened in this house.

And I knew they knew I was lying. I knew they were being patient, giving me the time to open up to them about the real reason I couldn't have them over at my house, as well as the other things that happened here. I knew.

I didn't even think I would ever be ready to tell them anything.

After the video call, I was just about to go to bed early as there was nothing more to do, but after a late announcement by Soma to check her Whatssap status for something she had posted, I went along to check.

Soma's Whatssap status looked like a single circle and I got tired of tapping on it over and over to get to the very last one, and when I did, I saw a group of cartooned characters who looked an awful lot like all of us, all together in what seemed like a group photo, smiling and cheesing. Underneath, it was captioned 'The Igbo Sisters'.

I couldn't help, but smile at the picture. It was beautiful. Too beautiful. I looked to the one that was supposed to be representing me, with my tangled hair that Soma made to look like neat dreads in the animation, and my skinny bony structure that Soma seemed to make look presentably cool, and I said to myself: Nah, I don't look this great in person.

That exact moment, a new status update appeared.

Clyde.

My heart skipped a thousand beats.

It looked so beautiful from the outro already, like he put up a picture of beautiful colours and humans, pirouetting, in a way that almost signified.....  Dance?

No, it couldn't be.

Without permission from the other parts of my body, my hands went to click on that single circle that had Marcus Acha's recent status update.

I saw the picture and my heart melted a thousand times.

One of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen in my life.

It was an image with a dark background, and there were too ladies who seemed to be in an exotic positions, as though they were frozen in time, while dancing. Both had long hair and seemed to be in the middle of a pirouette dance. They looked so exotic, having all shades of the most beautiful colours -gold, ice blue, orange, and white- emanating through their body, shining and spewing out as though they were coloured holograms of the most beautiful kind of angels.

"Wow." I sat up from my bed, looked at the picture.

Why would Marcus Acha post this? He doesn't care about this sort of thing.

And I wondered why a part of me started to imagine me and him, moving and dancing to the ancient type of music, feeling it in our bones.

I smiled at the thought. And realised I may have to teach him a lot if that ever happened.

I looked at that picture for a long time, kept a thumb on my screen so it would not slide to the next one, and after a lot of deep contemplation and arguments with the voices in my head, I slid the reply icon up and texted; Hey.

He saw my message immediately and I was shocked. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was stalking my DM and waiting for me to text.

But I knew better.

I just wondered how else the message had ticked 'read' the second I sent it.

However, there was only one problem.

It stayed read for the next three hours.

Wahala for who dey no dey leave on read oo! Thoughts? Thoughts?

Who else can't wait for Dabi and Acha to get together??? I can't oo! I've never been excited to write a love story before! All these evil forces against Dacha must be sent back to hell oo. Don't worry, guys! Soon, these two will be united and their story will make you cry! (I bet on it)

Oh, and thoughts on Stephen?

For now, BYE!!!