Hey, guys. Surprise!🌝♥️

Okay, so DON'T SKIP THIS!

So, if you were attentive to the last chapter, you would have noticed that that same night was the same night of Giwa and Ivandor's first date, lol. Oh, and if you were also attentive, you should have noticed this next tiny, but glaring detail....

So, yeah? In TLT, Giwa left Hassana and Prissy in her room before she went out for her date with Ivandor, and then, at the end of the date night, Giwa came back to see Prissy and Hassana dozing off on her bed...

But, um....

Prissy was out in the arcade with Yure that same night of Giwa's date with Ivandor....?

Uhhh..... Confusing, right?

How could she have been in Giwa's room (after Giwa had obviously left her and Hassana there), and then, be out with Yure at the arcade too?

Prissy obviously isn't a twin or a magician to be in two places at the same time, right? Lol. She obviously went and came back, and how on earth did she even manage to outsmart Hassana... Or did she?

And then, in the end, Giwa had come back to see Prissy and Hassana sleeping on her bed, peacefully. Prissy was out and back in no time, before Giwa even noticed anything was off......

E shock you?

~ACHA~

Mum and Dad have been acting a 'romance film' in this house since morning.

No, seriously. I'm not playing with you.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly a movie pe se, but apparently, some baby napkin company had paid them to be the lead roles in some new commercial that was precisely taking place right here in our living room. 

First off, I have no idea how Mum had even gotten my father, a whole Doctor Solomon Acha, to star alongside her, in a commercial. I couldn't believe how talented she was at getting my Dad to do anything she wanted. Granted, Dad was obsessed with her. I had to call it an obsession. And ever since their fight the last time, he had literally been treating her like a queen, doing what she wanted, agreeing to everything she proposed, and basically doing all he could to get back on her good side.

I guess it worked.

I mean, since the entire week, the both of them had been so lovey-dovey. They always cuddled up to watch TV every night, fed each other food at the dining table, and drank from the same straw, showered each other with dozens of compliments, and got each other surprise gifts. Dad made dinner a lot of times when Mum complained that she had just done her nails and thereby, couldn't handle any 'strenuous work', and he didn't mind being an avid photographer for her when we came back from Church; Mum would take over a thousand photos, and Dad would be squatting, bending, kneeling, and even laying on the ground to take all the best angles for her.

A whole Solomon Acha.

And like that wasn't enough, there were my parents right there in the living room, spending the whole Saturday, sitting in the sofa in the midst of a whole barrage of camera men and a set crew; Dad's large, stunning muscles bulged out of his short sleeved white shirt, as he wrapped a firm hand around Mum, the brightest smile on his face, white set of impressive teeth on display, and the sharpest, nearly blinding gold beard ring, hooked to his partly dyed black and silver beard, and Mum was at his side, staying in character as she held some random baby, looking ever so gorgeous as she laughed in Dad's arms.

Honestly, I loved the fact that they had such a beautiful relationship, camera or not. That fact made me glad to an extent.

"..... When our kids are happy," Mum smiled to the camera, baby in her arms, Dad's arms around her,

"..... We are happy," Dad completed.

I forced the urge to clear my throat in disbelief.

Mum and Dad shared a short kiss on the lips afterwards, and it was a wrap. The camera man, director, and the entire crew on set was applauding the both of them afterwards, and I had no other choice to just clap for them as well.

"Well, that was great!" Mum got up, dusted her shoulders in pride, absolutely feeling herself. "And boy, I can't imagine how beautiful I must have looked."

"You're always beautiful, Uju," Dad smiled at Mum.

"Tell me something I don't know," She laughed, flipped her blonde braids in his face, and she was easily getting everyone in the room to laugh so easily. 

"On the next one, maybe your son could join us," One of the camera men surprised me by pulling me into this, and everyone in the room was agreeing, commending the idea, and insinuating I was good market for TV.

Well, everyone except Dad was in on it.

He visibly looked uncomfortable with the idea, and knowing the man, I knew he wouldn't 'go with the flow' this time. Not when it had to do with me. 

"My son isn't an actor," He debunked, kept his tone measured and somewhat playful, so he wouldn't sound rude to them. Sadly, he wasn't even acting like I existed, he was only paying attention to the people he was talking, "He's  a football player, actually."

"Oh, that's really good!" One of the crew members commended, and while the others were agreeing it was an amazing thing, Mum took the opportunity to punch Dad on the shoulder - he looked like he barely even felt it.

"Our son can be an actor if he wants," She told him. "He can be anything he wants."

It was all laughed off, by Dad, Mum, and the whole crew, but I knew that Dad only wanted to be nice. He hadn't even spoken to me since I got here to watch them, he had barely even looked at me, and even if Mum had literally forced him to apologise to me for what happened that day, I was certain that I wasn't quite in good terms with my father yet.

It just felt to me like everything about me irritated him to his bones, and for my Mum's sake, instead of smiting me to death, he just straight up ignored me and acted like I was not in existence.

It stung.

It stung like hell.

I wanted this man to love me. I needed him to love me, but all the time, I am always doing shit to make him so disappointed. I always keep failing him and giving him reasons to not want me as a son. All I have ever wanted all my life was to prove it to this man that I could just be as important as my brother, Justice. To prove to him that I was even better than Ivandor Fejaun.

I couldn't blame him for hating my guts so much.

Nausea was already hitting me hard as I stood there, had the worst thoughts run through my mind as I watched him acknowledge everyone else, but me, and basically just show how far his distaste for me was....

I couldn't bear it. And I afraid of crying in front of him. Giving him more reason to scorn at how weak I was. How useless I was.

So, I walked out of the living room.

 And as I headed straight to my room, I only hoped no one noticed me leaving.

But, of course, if there was anyone who cared about me in this house, it was my Mum.

"Now, why is your face all like that? Who beat you, baby?" She blocked my bedroom door with her sharp-nailed hands the moment I proceeded to close it shut. 

I only laughed, an attempt to hide how truly bad I felt.

"I'm good, Mum, I promise," I lied.

"But your face tells a different story," She said. "Look, if this is about your father..."

"Really, Mum, I'm fine," I cut her off, assured her. I mean, they had literally been so good with each other the entire week, why ruin it for them? They only ever fight because of me anyway.

"I'm your Mother, I hope you know that," She looked at me. Shut the door behind her and proceeded to walk into my room, "And, I know you're lying," I was shocked that for the first time ever she walked into my room and didn't regard my vanity mirror.

"Look," She said, "I do notice the tension between you and Father all the time."

"He hates me so much," I said, admitted it to her as I sat down on my bed in defeat.

I felt the bed side beside me dent slightly and I knew she sat by my side.

"Your Dad doesn't hate you," She said. 

"It's clear as crystal that he does, you don't have to make me feel better," I shook my head.

"I know that nothing I say will make you think otherwise, but believe me, your Dad doesn't hate you," She said to me.

I don't know why she keeps telling me that, when she was clearly aware of everything that goes on in this house.

"Look, there was a time your Dad wasn't such an asshole," She started.

I felt the urge to act shocked that she used such language.

"So, what happened? He changed?" I asked.

"Nah, not exactly," She shook her head. "He's just been at a very challenging phase of his life for the longest time now, and he's making too many mistakes. And no matter how much he tests my patience, God knows I'm trying to balance my understanding."

I didn't understand what she meant by that.

But for her to sound this way even after Dad clearly disrespected her the last time....

"All these will come to an end one day," She said to me. "I'm not asking you to keep up with your Dad's attitude, I'm just assuring you that things will be fine eventually."

I only nodded. What else could I say?

"I don't want to waste your time, okay? You have to start preparing for your Saturday Lessons," Mum diverted.

I even forgot that existed.

"Now, if you excuse me," She stood up after her short pep-talk, went straight for my mirror to adjust her edges, "Mama Acha has a diaper commercial to slay; Let me go and blow minds away with my stunning, unearthly beauty and glamour!" She blew a kiss at her reflection in the mirror, and I couldn't help, but laugh.

This woman.

Mum made sure to kiss my forehead before leaving me in my room.

I smiled as I watched her leave, thankful that she tried her best to always be there for me despite everything, and my  heart warmed in gratitude.

I knew she was just saying things to make me feel better. We both could see that I wasn't even close to being one of my father's favourite people.

And it hurt like hell.

"Just look at this place," I scoffed, as I took a moment to scan the corners of this 'infested' room.

And no, I wasn't a pig. I may have even be the neatest person I ever knew; The walls of my room were very white as though it was just painted this morning, the floors were squeaky clean and the tiles could easily reflect.

The arrangement of my room was also very precise, as everything to the left - the Vanity Mirror, my video game and TV set, all the black oil-painted furnitures, the reading table, chairs, and some mini couches and throw pillows, were all in an orderly fashion, having the only things to the left being my neatly and arranged King-sized Bed, and my mum's second favourite part of the room - The wardrobe.

But that wasn't all...

Dad had complained that there was not enough space for all of my brother, Justice's award pictures and trophies to be displayed, as the living room and the Masters Bedroom was already filled up with it...

So, you know what he did?

Well, he put up some of Justice's pictures and trophies in my room.

Imagine having to deal with how useless and unable I was to my father, and on top of that, come to my own room, my own palace, to see a variety of trophies I will never earn, and a torturing display of pictures that had his favourite and much preferred son, smiling at me.

One look around my room was enough to even rile me up...

But however, I was too drained to be angry.

Being here at home literally drained me. I loved Mum, God knows I did, and I didn't despise my Dad either, but something about being under the same roof with my father who saw me as nothing good, just always found a way to tear the self confidence I thought I had on School grounds, apart.

In a way, I was grateful to my classmates for being a source of booster to me. Dad tore me apart and brought me down, they fired on my confidence, and lifted  me up high.

I liked it.

I loved it.

Yes, it was toxic. Right about the most dangerous kind of maladaptive behavior I had, but the fact is that the way my classmates treated me, looked up to me as worthy, and held me on a pedestal, went a long way to soothe all the hurt and indignation I had to face off Dad.

I really hated it here.

In a sick twisted way, I couldn't wait for Saturday Lessons anyway.

In times like this, really, I couldn't wait for the weekend to be over, just so I could go back to School.

School.

.... Suddenly, thinking about having to ignore Dabeluchi through out it all, didn't make me so eager anymore.

It deflated me.

But then, I still had after School. That was something to look forward.

The sudden vibration of my phone snapped me away from my reverie, and like fate had it's course, it was just who I wanted it to be, and it read;

You think I'll beg you to come online. Tch. Asshole. Stay there.

<Sent 1:32pm

I laughed. I actually really laughed so hard, and was on laying my bed in seconds, laughing even harder.

Oh, Aurora.

Just to frustrate her a little bit more, I quickly thumbed on my phone, and replied to her text;

Oh, really.
Fine then, I'm not coming online😌

<Sent 1:33pm

I sent the message back to Dabeluchi, and knew she was going to flip out on me.

Gladly, I anticipated.

Thinking about Last Night was big for me. There was just so many rushes of emotions, and the tension, as well as the euphoria and warmth was enough to make me want to spend the entire night with her.

And she surprised me too....

I couldn't believe how bold she was.

She dived in head first, challenged me to kiss her, and I was more than happy to take it.

"..... So, when a boy and a girl more than like each other, what happens next?" I had teased.

"....You tell me," She responded by making an even bolder move.

I still remember how everything went like it happened just a second ago.

"Go on.." She had said, a dainty smile on her lips, and subtle, but clear eagerness in her beautiful eyes.

I was more than happy to oblige. Enthralled by her lips, and having euphoria build up in me like I was about to kiss an angel, I moved in close, gently, preparing myself to show her what it feels like to be kissed by a mini-god.....

Then, Dabeluchi ruined the moment by chickening out last minute.

She tore away from me, laughing, and covering her lips, seemingly ashamed of what she was just about to do.

I laughed too, but in as much as it pained me, I didn't force her to do anything she wasn't comfortable doing.

We would have kissed..... But it didn't happen.

And more than ever, I anticipated her letting me one day.

I snapped out once again from my reverie when I got another message, and I was certain once again that it was Dabeluchi.

So, I looked at it;

😑

<Sent 1:33 pm.

I laughed once more. It was a single emoji in response to my previous adamant response, but it cracked me up so badly. I easily concluded that Dabeluchi Orji was the most entertaining person I had ever met in my life.

However..

Something about my time with her Last Night did not sit well with me...

Those cut marks on her skin.

I couldn't still wrap my head around the fact that Dabeluchi self harmed.

It just made me so scared, and made me wonder what on Earth got her into that. Made me wonder if what she going through was so horrible that I couldn't even begin to imagine it.

And that terrified me.

It sent chills right to my spine, and shook my body with fear.

What on Earth could it be that Dabeluchi was going through?

I wanted to know so badly, yet I knew I couldn't push it.

And I had to admit one fact to myself amidst it all...

I love her.

~DABI~

I hate it here.

I hate it here.

I hate it here.

I hate it here.

I hate it here.

That was all that ran through my mind the entire morning, as I woke up to the harsh reality all around me.

This goddamn house.

My neighbors seemed to be around. I could tell because all through out Last Night, I could see through my bedroom window that one of the bedrooms had been lighted.

And something told me that was Casper's bedroom.

I didn't even know how to feel because I knew he probably must have heard my Mum crying out loud last night in anguish.

And me? I couldn't even believe how swollen and red my eyes looked since morning; either the broken tattered mirror in my room was just exaggerating things, or I really cried my eyes out last night.

Why did I always cry when I left Marc every night?

It had fast become a toxic habit for me.

Being with him was the only chance I had to forget that things at home were so bad, and School wasn't even any better. I wasn't sure why only Marcus made me feel that complete freedom within myself, void of insecurities, and inferiority complex, and void of most of the shitty things I tended to fe on a normal day.

Being with Marcus made me feel so free, like a bird, like I could spread out my wings and fly, and I could soar the earth and back, with a smile on my face, and joy in my heart. Being with him was the perfect escape, from home, from School, from reality as a whole. It was so warming, so peaceful, and God, I felt so free. Too free. And too happy. It was my only chance to be happy anyway, so I made the most of it - played with him, laughed with him, teased him, bickered with him, I made the most of every night I spent with Marcus Acha, like it was my last chance to be happy.

And after I was done with the night with him, after I was done being happy, after I was returned back to my hell home, knowing that the next day was another torturing day in School, in which I wouldn't even be able to talk to him..... It hurt like a bitch.

So, every night Marcus left me, I cried.

And cried.

And cried.

And cried.

And cried.

And cried.

I couldn't stop crying, and I ended up falling asleep in a pool of my own tears.

And to think, Last Night he saw the scars on my wrists....

Something no one had ever seen before.

No one except my Mum.

Marcus saw it.

I felt all sorts of things at that point: shame, fear, vulnerability. I was ashamed that someone had seen that part of me, I was afraid he would think I was too crazy and too much, and I felt too open, too vulnerable, like he could finally see how weak I could become.

Marcus had held me in his arms in my state of turbulence, and I was so grateful to him.

I had never been sure what Love was, but honest to God, if it was what I felt for Marcus Acha, then damn it, Love was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Anyways, it was a busy Saturday and I was helping my mum wash dishes in the Kitchen, while she cooked for Dad and Delilah, and some other extra company we had at the Living room.

All the way, I was rolling in sadness at the fact that I was back to the bitter reality here, and like that wasn't enough, I still had Saturday Lessons waiting for me, where I'd have to go through the hands of nasty classmates and deal with Marcus Acha speaking to every worthy person, and ignoring me.

"Enyia Bia hia!"

A painfully familiar rough textured voice hollered aggressively at me, and I was forced to stop dead on my tracks.

Dead on my tracks...

That mean I was walking?

Wait-

I wasn't even in the Kitchen as I supposed I'd be.... Somehow, I was in the Living room.

How?

The last thing I remembered was my Mum asking me in the Kitchen to help her serve some drinks and food in a tray to my Dad and some of his friends who were merring in the living room, but still, I didn't remember taking action from there.

But somehow, there I was, was standing in front of them all - my Dad and his pot bellied old friends - holding a tray containing dozens of plates of eba and Afang soup, and Beers, halting on my Dad's sudden, very hostile call.

The man was sitting there, him and his friends all shared into different couches all over the living room, and he took the largest one, the sofa right in the middle, where all the food and drinks were, stared at me through dark, scary eyes that should belong to the devil and not a human being.

It surprised me. Couldn't surprise me any less how this man was a monster, and his friends who always came here to eat and drink every Saturday, watched him treat his wife and children the way he did, and decided to be quiet about it.

"Gini bu afa gi!" Dad barked harshly at me in Igbo- A language I was never able to really learn.

I didn't budge. Just stared at him, obviously not know what to say. I didn't understand shit he said, so I just looked back at him, stared, and said nothing.

"I na a nu nti? I choro ka m za gi aka nti!" He growled even louder at my silence.

"I don't understand Igbo." I told him.

The me around him we're laughing amongst themselves, finding it amusing however that I couldn't even understand my own local dialect.

Dad sized me up and down in disgust, and proceeded to repeat his question in English.

"I said, what is that your name again!" He shouted at me.

I couldn't believe my ears.

My own father, the man who joined hands to bring me into this world, was asking me of my name.

My own father didn't even know my name?

"Oh! You don't also hear English too!?" He was on his feet, attempting to lash out on me and tear me apart.

"My name is Dabeluchi." I answered. My voice, low, but audible.

He eyed me up and down in more disgust, "Chukwu mara onye nyere gi afa nka ahu," And I had no idea what he said, but his pot bellied friends laughed, so I guessed he mocked me.

"Go and call that your mother for me!" He flung his arm into the air to emphasize, and also, to dismiss me.

I swallowed, adhered, and walked out of the Living room, made my way downstairs, and headed for the Kitchen.

Behind me, I heard their laughter, booming from the Living Room, and my Dad's voice, as he boldly and very loudly, told his friends about the success of his new business, and how much money, millions, that he had attained in the past three months.

Bitterness was in my heart, crawling up it's way into my throat in form of bile, and I fought the urge to spit in disgust.

My father claimed to be so wealthy, have so much money, millions, as he said, and he seemed so proud of himself for all his material accomplishments, yet something as little as keeping a family, he was too weak and disgraceful of a man to do it.

He had his mistress live right under our roofs, he showered he with love, and let her treat my Mum like shit. He beat my mum, and made her work and toil as a slave right in her own husband's home, and he doesn't even know his children's names.

God forbid.

That man was a demon.

I felt so irritated and ashamed to even call him my father.

"Eh! Eh! Eh! Eh! Eh! What is all these? You want to now push me down the stairs, abi!?" A loud, nasty feminine voice slapped me back to my physical reality.

Delilah.

She stood there, in front of me, on the stairs, waving her witch-like long nails angrily in the air as she spoke with disdain at me.

She wore a red dress, bright red lipstick that popped her bright skin tone, and very loud, bright make-up.
And for the first time ever,she didn't look as beautiful.

She looked so ugly.

I had half a mind to push her down the stairs, and watch her roll to her death.

I mean, who would know?

It would look like an accident after all.

"You own is to stay and be looking at somebody as if you want to kill them, abeg shift from my way before you push me down! Insolent child!" She pushed me away from her way, hissing in anger, and brushing past me.

Who would know if I pushed her down the stairs?

Who? I could just grab her right now, and throw her down these stairs, and run. It'd look like an accident, right?

"Why are you standing like that? Are you a ghost?" She didn't leave yet.

Delilah seemed to stop and come back to attack behind me, once more.

I didn't answer her, I just stood there, and welcomed a wholesome count down that a voice in my head started.

Five..

"Come oo! Are you sure this girl is not mad!" She screamed at my back.

Four...

"And why do you stand like that? With your back all hunched and head down? Which one are you? A witch, or depressed?!"

Three....

Mum appeared from no where, noticed me, clothed in that same dress she always wore, a healing bruise on her cheek riled me up even more, And I grind my teeth, stood, waited for my countdown to reach zero, and Mum seemed to be taken a bit aback by me.

"Dabeluchi." She called me. "What is wrong with you? Is everything okay?"

"You this wretched woman!" Delilah screamed at my mum. "See the demon you gave birth to! See oo!"

Two...

"In fact, I've gone! You this wretched woman, we better not wait for you in that Living room!" Delilah screamed at Mum, who obeyed her order, looking apologetic for my behavior.

"And this your demon child can stand there for all I care!" Delilah said before she stormed out, leaping up the stairs as fast as she could.

I turned around, my body ordering itself to take action and throw her down, but I could only see Delilah's back in sight, as she was almost gone from the stairs, and disappearing into the Hallway that led to the Living Room.

And that was when the final count came...

One...

But, by then, Delilah was out of sight.

The lucky bitch.

"Dabeluchi!" Mum found courage when Delilah was gone, screamed my name in alarm, furious with me.

I turned to look to her, completely unfazed and unbothered.

"Dad is calling you." Was all I told her, before I walked down the stairs, and brushed past her like she wasn't even there.

As she watched behind me, speechless or something of the sort, I walked into the Kitchen, ignoring her, and made for the tray of food that I knew she wanted to serve my brother. I decided to help her out at once.

Stupid Delilah.

Stupid ugly woman.

I grabbed the tray from the counter top of the Kitchen, oblivious to everything around me as I headed out, and straight to Stephen's room.

Stephen who doesn't even talk anymore.

I knocked on the mahogany door of his room.

And waited for him to open.

I may have stood there for about five more minutes, because my legs started to hurt.

I decided to knock again. And again. And again. And again.

Until it became clear to me that something was wrong.

I mean, he had to be deliberately ignoring me because I KNEW he was in that room. He had been there all morning.

I knocked one more time, and when he didn't open, I went ahead to open the door myself.

To my very surprise, Stephen wasn't in his room.

I was shocked to realise that, yet, It couldn't still stop me from feeling all the chills I felt when I walked into this boy's room. Walked into all the toys and action figure scattered all around the ground, the baby cot, the Spiderman Bedsheets.......

Jesus.

When would he grow past all these?

Above all, he was absent, and I wondered why.

Or maybe I was overthinking things.

I shook my head, decided he would be somewhere in the house, I mean, this mansion was ridiculously big and had a lot of rooms. So, I took the tray of food meant for him, and placed it on his table.

His table.

This table that was so filled up with all sorts of crumbled pieces of papers littered all over. Why were there so many papers? I had half a mind to clean them off his desk, but I was afraid he wouldn't like that.

I mean, the last time I did something he didn't like - peep into his drawing book - he literally pushed me off and I nearly fell down to my death.

So, I didn't want to risk anything.

But that Drawing Book....

It was there, with the pieces of crumbled papers on his desk, partially opened, or at least opened enough for me to see the last drawing he was walking on.

I wasn't sure what it was, but recalling from my childhood moments with Stephen, back when he actually used to talk to me, I guessed it was one of those aliens from Ben 10.

Last time, I peeped into his drawing book, it was a lady's breasts.

I was suddenly struggling with a dilemma...

Do I check out Stephen's drawing book?

Or do I mind my business?

He wasn't here. This could be a chance for me. I could get all my answers from Stephen from that drawing book, what if it was possible?

My curiosity got the best of me, so I proceeded to move forth and grab his drawing book.

I swallowed, prayed the lord my soul to keep, as I proceeded even further to open it.

.... And immediately the door burst open.

"Stephen!" My heart leaped, dread shot through my bones and a gasp left me as his drawing book, flew out of my hands that instant.

He stood there and stared at me, eyes wide in something akin to horror, and raced towards me to pick up his drawing book from the floor.

"I wasn't looking at it, I promise! I was just— I just — Your food was here, and your tray, and I—"

I might as well had been talking to myself because he was too focused in protecting his drawing book, and packing up all the crumbled pieces of paper in his arms, that he failed to even pay me any mind.

I ran out of his room, using that opportunity, and swore to never come back.

That was so close.

That was too close.

I choked slightly at the foul odour of my room as I climbed my scattered bed, and wrapped my body with the blanket, scared as hell.

Why on Earth was Stephen so protective of that book, though?

Why? Why? Why???

Taking in deep, torturing breaths, I forced myself to stay calm.

All the way, I couldn't stop thinking of what could possibly be truly wrong with Stephen.

Just what.

In my state of absolute confusion, anxiety, and fear, there was only one person I wanted to talk to.

So, I picked up my phone to text Marcus.

Of course, I didn't want to sound as desperate as I really was, so I sent him a message that seemed like I wouldn't care less if he came online or not.

After a few teases here and there, he was there for me in the end, and minutes into talking and laughing with him on Whatsapp, I involuntarily had a smile on my face, temporarily and gratefully forgetting the turbulence all around me.

We talked for so long. Too long. And for a moment, I was just as happy as I would have been if he were physically present.

But, of course, nature had to be against my happiness.

Just had to be.

Right then, I got one text, just one text that threw me off course, and into the worst anxiety attack yet;

"Lulu, no matter what you do, do NOT go to the class group chat!"

My heart was in my throat.

My heart was in my goddamn throat.

The weight in my throat choked me, threatened to kill me, and my body was overwhelmed with multiple chills of dread. With shaky, trembling hands, and a heavy, thundering heart, my fingers hesitantly, fearfully, did the opposite of what the message told me.

I opened the Class group chat....

The biggest mistake of my life.

I wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole.

Omoh........

Thoughts? Theories? Guesses? What do you think is happening? Pour out your mind for me!🌝

Oh, and guys, sha, this chapter and the next, starts building up to the climax of this book, and I'm a bit nervous sha😂 I don't know how y'all will take these blows, but oh well, this should be fun. Very fun.

See you all on the next Surprise Update.🌝♥️