The most painful part was that I didn't know if she was dead or alive. Should I keep hoping? Or should I give up and accept reality?

❦︎

Dedicated to WemsEdema ♥️.

°°°°°

~[VICTORIA]~

The week went by smoothly. Asides the occasional glares and scowls I got from Jason, I'd declare the week a good one.

My first week at SH was not half as bad I thought it would be. I had imagined walking down the hallway, and people would throw tomatoes at me, screaming at me to go back to SLI. But so far, it was Jason that clearly didn't like me, so I was going to stay off his path, avoid him as much as I could. Other students still threw stink eyes my way every now and then, but they hadn't gathered the courage to openly say anything to me.

I paused the replay of the week that was rolling in my mind. It was Saturday and I was going to Netflix and chill, I decided that I deserved the luxury.

So I snuggled beneath my blue and white striped duvet, my popcorn to my left and my laptop over my lap.

For a moment, I raised my eyes to appreciate my room. It was the dream room I always wanted.

The walls were a blue-purple ombre with glittery silver stars scattered randomly all over them to imitate the image of the night sky. All the furnite were baby blue, my vanity was directly opposite my bed, leaning against the opposite wall, over it was hung my 54-inch TV. A full length mirror dominated half of the wall to my left, and my study desk was against the wall on my right, with bookshelves on either of it. The pot plants in some sections of the shelves added a touch of nature to the room.

I internally decided that I would put up posters of Burna boy and my basketball icons sometime. And add a couch too.

“Baby?” Dad called, knocking on my door. “Are you decent? I'm coming in.”

I blinked, looked over at the door, "Come in, I'm dressed."

The door creaked open and dad walked in slowly, a soft smile on his lips.

“How are you?” he asked, dragging the chair in front of my reading desk and placing it beside my bed. He sat on it, hoisted his elbows on his knees so that we were face to face.

“I'm fine.” I shrugged.

“No,” he moved closer, taking my hand in his. “How are you?... how are you handling these past…events?”

“Really, Dad, I'm okay.” I didn’t truly believe that. Guilt still lived in my chest, it had mounted its residence in my mind and it was not going anywhere anytime soon.

He sighed, resting his forehead of our intertwined hands. “Look, Vicky,” he looked at me again, eye to eye. “I know this past two months have not been easy for you. With your mother’s death…” he closed his eyes, heaving a heavy sigh. “Just know you can talk to me, okay? As a father, as a friend. I'm here for you, you hear me?”

I nodded. “I know that, Dad.”

He smiled and pecked the back of my hand. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” he made to get up but I grabbed his wrist. A question had bugged my mind throughout the week.

“Dad, wait.”

He sat, a frown appearing on his face. “What is it?”

“What were you doing in my school on Wednesday?” I inquired. “There was really nothing you needed to do. And at this rate you’ll give our little secret away.”

“Really?” he deadpanned. “You’ve not forgotten that?”

I crossed my arms, arched a brow. “What were you doing, Dad?”

He sighed. “I…I—I was…” he cleared his throat, scratching his neck.

Scratching his neck was something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. But there was no reason for that now, was there?

“You what?” I pushed.

“I went to visit an old friend, okay!?” he got defensive all of a sudden. He got up and eyed me wearily. “Acting like my mother every freaking time.”

And then he literally ran out of my room. As in full speed. He could win an Olympic gold medal running at that speed. He amused me really, the way he got all defensive like that. I did not need a soothsayer to tell me that there was more to the matter. But I decided not to pry any longer, I would get to know in the end... like he always said.

I was about to begin with my movie marathon when he barged in my room again. I stared at him, in the middle of stuffing popcorn in my mouth.

“You need something?” I asked. “Are you hungry?”

“You, what were you doing there?” he asked, accusation dripping from his voice.

I laughed. A full blown one, clutching my stomach. Was he really asking me that?

“What was I doing in my own school?”

“What were you doing in the administrative block? Weren’t you meant to be in class or something?” he squinted at me. “Your boyfriend was waiting for you there, ba?”

“Nobody was waiting for me.” I answered between laughter, shaking my head at the crazy man I call my father.

“So, what were you doing?” he sat back on the chair he did not bother to return. “You just decided to stand at the entrance of the building just like that?”

“No, Dad. I was coming out of the building.” my laughter died down. “I went to collect my basketball jersey.”

He sobered up quite fast, a slight frown took over his face. He tilted his head as if it would give him a better view of my face. “You went back to basketball?”

“I never left basketball, Dad.” I confessed. Looking away to avoid his gaze. “I continued despite Mo—despite her refusal. But it was secretly… coach Fabian still let me train with them.”

“Look at me,” His voice was a soft whisper. He grabbed my chin between his thumb and index finger when I did not turn, turned my head to face him. “I'm sorry.”

I grimaced. “What?”

“I said I'm sorry,” He exhaled. “I'm sorry for the things you went through. With your dreams, choices…basketball. I'm sorry I did not do anything about it.”

“It’s not your fault, Dad.” I sobbed; I had no control of the tears falling freely from my eyes. Memories came, memories that I so wanted to bury in the depths of my mind. But they always hunted me and did with me as they liked. They always showed their ugly faces every time. Both in my sleep and when I was awake.

“Basketball?!” her dark-skinned face was pinched in disgust, her grip tight on the leather belt in her hand. “No child of mine would waste their time like that!?” she pointed her index finger at me. “You will study hard and get a good job, not waste your time running around on a stupid court!”

I remembered my twelve-year-old self, curled up beside the couch, trying to hide from my mother who was screaming like a banshee, swinging that belt around without concern for where it might hit me. And I was there, trembling in fear of my own mother.

I had simply told her that I wanted to join the basketball team, I wanted to become a basketballer.

“But, Mom!” I wailed.

“Don’t argue with me!” she slapped my forehead, hard. “You have ruined my life so why not make yourself useful? This is the last time I will say it, I don’t want to see you on that court again or any court for that matter. Not the one in the estate, not the one in school. Am I clear?!”

“AM I CLEAR?!” she roared when I did not give her any reply.

I winced, shaking as sobs escaped my lips and mucus ran out my nostrils, down my lips to my jaw. “Yes, Mom. No more basketball.”

“Good for nothing child.” she scrunched her pointed nose as her plump lips curved downwards in a frown. “You ruined my life if you didn’t know.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “So, whatever I say is what you will do!”

I nodded furiously out of fear. “Yes, Mom.”

She always told me that I ruined her life. I did not understand why but I believed it. I believed because she always sang it to me for as long as I could remember. And eventually… eventually, I caused her death. I was the reason my own mother had to die...

My chest constricted and my lungs, it felt like they could not function properly, like they were being squeezed and the air I was trying so desperately to fill them with felt more like pins and needles. It was now suddenly hotter and beads of sweat rolled from my forehead to my face. Blackspots filled my vision; I could no longer see anything. I was slowly losing awareness of my surroundings.

“Vicky? Baby?” I was only vaguely aware of Dad’s alarmed voice and his taps on my cheeks.

And then everything went blank. My eyelids were heavy like lead and they closed as I slipped away into unconsciousness, welcoming the darkness that accompanied it.

 °°°°°
 

I could hear indistinct murmurs as my eyes gradually fluttered open. I took in my surroundings. Plain white walls, air con, white tiles, blue bedsheets… I was not in my room.

“But she’ll be fine, right?”

That was Dad’s voice. I looked to my left, where it came from. There was a man standing in front of Dad in a doctor’s robe, lightly squeezing Dad’s shoulder.

“She’ll be okay,” He smiled. “Just consider what I said."

“Dad?” I drawled out, grimacing from the crookedness of my back.

“Victoria? Baby?” Dad brushed past the doctor, walking to me immediately he heard my voice. “Are you okay? Does anywhere hurt? Can you hear me?”

“I’ll give you your space.” the doctor left us both in the ward.

“I'm fine.” I tried to sit up but dad pushed me right back down.

“Lay down. I’ll adjust the bed.”

Dad raised the top half of the bed, increasing the angle of my back to the horizontal. “Good?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I yawned, looking around the boring ward. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital?”

“You went unconscious.” Dad frowned. The look on his face spelt out worry and…guilt? "I explained what happened to the doctor, he suspects it was a panic attack."

“Panic attack?” I asked and he nodded. “Whoa…”

“Just rest, okay?” Dad caressed my cheeks affectionately. His tone was that of a plea, like he was begging me to do as he said. “Promise me you won't stress.”

“I promise,” I sighed, smiled weakly, “But when am I out of here?”

“We’ll be allowed to leave by evening. For now, just eat and rest. Alright?” he brought out a disposable pack of food with the logo of Sweet Sensation all over it. “I know you like their fried rice.” He smiled at me, wiggling his full brows. “I got pepper chicken to.”

I grinned, collecting the pack of food from him. The man really knew what I liked. “Thank you."

°°°°°

    ~[JASON]~

"Chibuike!” Mom’s loud voice almost crumbled the foundation of our home. “Chibuike! Answer me!”

“Yes, Mom.” I walked into the living room to find her buckling her black heels.

I watched her get up and dust-off non-existent dust from her red bodycon dress.

“I'm off to work,” she grabbed her black, Dior handbag and hung it on her elbow. “Your breakfast is in the kitchen.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Chibuike,” She pouted at me, spreading her arms open. “Won’t you hug your mother before she leaves for work?”

I chuckled, lazily walking over to her to embrace her. She wrapped me in a bear hug and it was relaxing, comfortable. I did not even want to let go.

“Nnam, be a good boy, oo?”

“Yes ma.”

“Make sure you eat your food.”

“Yes ma”

“Call me if you need to go out, alright?”

“Yes ma”

“Don—”

“Mom, you'll be late for work!” I laughed. “Get going.”

“Right.” she laughed, embarrassed. “I'm off. Take care!”

She ran through the door and I made my way to my room once I heard her start the car. I sighed dejectedly as I observed the state of my room. It looked like a jungle with my clothes peeking out my wardrobe, my duvet in a pool in front my bed and books just thrown everywhere.

Instead of cleaning up, I threw myself on the bed and pulled my duvet from the floor, nuzzling in the warmth of it.  I adjusted into a more comfortable position and grabbed my laptop from on top my pillow, where I had abandoned it yesterday.

I was going to watch You Tube videos till I slept off. I felt like doing it and I was going to do it. I turned it on and typed in my password but I pause when my gaze landed on the recycle bin. There was only one file in that recycle bin and I had brought myself to delete few months ago. But now… now, I wanted to retrieve that file. I was itching to see her face again. Even if not in real life, I had to make do with the virtual version of her face…her smile that I missed so much.

Without thinking more of it, I opened the recycle bin and recovered the file. But my hand stilled, hovering above the mouse when I was about to open the file. Just the thought of her brought a bitter-sweet memories.

I still opened the file despite myself and I could not even fight the wave of nostalgia that took over me when her pictures popped on the screen. I clicked on one of them. The one where she had her hand thrown around my shoulder. It was Mom’s birthday but she had managed to make the party all about her, stealing the spotlight from the actual celebrant.

I laughed as tears stained my cheeks. I really missed her; I missed her every minute of every day. Our bond, our moments… everything.

“We’re a team.” her round, dark face invaded my mind, forcing its way into my memory. “I’ll always be by your side.” Her small, round nose scrunched as she smiled at me, causing me to smile. Her smile was always contagious.

“Promise?” I raised a brow. “Team for life?”

“Team for life.” she concurred.

Our fourteen-year-old pinkies intertwined in a pinky swear.

But she did not keep that promise because I woke up a year later and she wasn’t there. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be. She was not where I wanted to find her. I had waited, thinking that she would show up eventually, but she didn't.

I have been waiting for two years now and surprise! She’s still not back. No trace of her. She's... gone.

The most painful part was that I didn't know if she was dead or alive. Should I keep hoping? Or should I give up and accept reality?

I minimized the picture, about to exit the file but I saw a photo. A photo with him in it. The beast of a man that sent this family downhill. The man whom I once considered a father. The man who I used to play with at the backyard but he had suddenly turned to a monster in my eyes.

How could a man just wake up one morning and decide that he no longer wanted to be with his wife and kids, saying that he wanted to pursue greater heights? How?

And then she disappeared a week later and that was when my life headed south. I felt... rejected, unimportant, unwanted. My father did not want me anymore, neither did my own sister. But was it to the extent that they had to leave the house?

At least, my supposed father said something before he left. But her? I just woke up one morning and she was gone, she didn't even leave a letter. Did she not think of what it would do to me? Our bond, our promises... they all shattered within seconds, but didn't they mean anything to her?

Everything crumbled. Mother became a shadow of herself. Nothing had been the same since then, since two years ago. And now, Mom and I, we were both broken, with no hope of things ever going back to normal.

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A/N

Y'all, I don't know why this chapter was so hard for me to write. 😑

Y'all have WemsEdema to thank for this though. Girl, YOUR HOLY WATER WORKED!😩🤲.

I'm so stoked for the next chapter though, cos we finna meet Chris! How do y'all think he's going to be?

And please, if you think I didn't write the panic attack scene well, I don't mind corrections. I've done my research, but I still know I could learn more. Any help would be appreciated.♥️

Jason! My guy's so sad inside y'all. You can't begin to imagine what he's going through 😭.

Please, please, please! Share and vote! It really helps I promise. Recommend to a friend if you're enjoying this work of art!

I'm already working on the next chapter to avoid this kind of delay. Please help rebuke every spirit of writer's block!😭

So guys... Next update is this week, I don't know when yet, okay?🙂

Stay safe, and I love you!😗♥️.