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ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ғᴏᴜʀ | ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ









⊱𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙰⊰

~~•~~

Highlight five reasons for the adoption of Africa as the centerpiece of Nigeria's foreign policy.

Discuss five ways how Nigeria has demonstrated that Africa is the centerpiece of her foreign policy implementation.

You read so what the fuck is the answer?

Highlight five reasons for the adoption of Africa as the centerpiece of Nigeria's foreign policy.

What is the fucking answer??

"10 minutes more!"

My heart thudded painfully in my chest, each beat resonating like a drum, drowning out all coherent thoughts. My sweaty fingers gripped my pen tight, ready to write something—anything—but the page remained blank.

There were ideas, fragments of what I read swirling in my mind, but they were scattered, all over the place. It was as if they refused to cooperate and form something comprehensible. Writing them down in their current state wouldn't make any sense, so they were better off as nothing.

With desperation mounting by the minute, I flipped through the pages of my answer booklet for the nth time, as if by some miracle, the answers would magically appear. At this point, it wouldn't be bad for that to happen because I badly needed more than a miracle.

"4 minutes more!"

It was 10 minutes just now! How the heck did it get to 4??

A cold sweat broke out on my face, and my heart raced, pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. My thoughts were tangled and knotted, and it became extremely hard to think.

You're going to fail again, idera.

The thought came again and again, like a hammer, driving despair deeper into my soul.

"2 minutes more!"

I stared at question two, and question two stared right back at me mocking me with its unyielding complexity. If I gripped my pen any harder, it could break into two.

A fat, giant, and red F.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me. The edges of my vision blurred, and I felt like I was going to pass out.

Time was slipping away, and so was my last shred of hope.

The shrill sound of the exam bell echoed through the seniors' building, and my heart dropped into my stomach. It was over. Time was up, and my paper was yanked away from my sweaty hand.

My ears began to ring, and all other sounds gradually faded into silence. The conversation between my dad and Mr. Johnson began to replay in my mind, each word and tone vividly echoing through my thoughts.

I was definitely going to repeat this class. Oma, Dami, Zina, and Lora—every single one of my classmates would graduate and leave me behind.
And my juniors. They would meet me here, in SS3, constantly reminding me of my failure.

You've failed once again.

I stood up abruptly from the chair, walked out of the exam hall, and made my way to the restroom.
Pushing open the heavy door, I entered and went straight into one of the stalls and locked the door.

With trembling hands, I pressed against the cold surface of the door, finally letting go of the composure I had been desperately clinging to.

Tears began to stream down my cheeks, my shoulders shaking with each sob as I struggled to contain the heavy disappointment and frustration that settled deep in my chest. A deep ache filled me, pulsating through every part of my being.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the overwhelming sense of failure that consumed me as the events of the term replayed in my mind like a horror movie reel.

The late-night study sessions, the sacrifices made, and the hope that this time, things would be different—all dashed. Shattered to pieces.

What was it all for?

The tears came out until I couldn't shed any more, leaving me with a throbbing headache that threatened to split my head into two.

Unlocking the stall door, I stepped out and hurried to the sink, eager to wash away the evidence of my tears. Looking in the mirror, my eyes were red and swollen, so it wouldn't be hard for anyone to know that I had been crying.

Thankfully no one walked into the restroom while I was bawling my eyes out. I'll just have to activate stealth mode to make it to the library to avoid prying eyes.

Using the small face towel tucked into my skirt pocket, I dried off the water on my face and hurriedly walked out of the restroom and took the back stairs out of the block to avoid running into any of my friends.

Making it out successfully, I made my way to the library and slipped in.

Apart from the librarian, who I could see was fast asleep in her chair, I was the only student in the entire library. The room was empty, which struck me as a huge irony, given that it was exam period—a time when the library was usually buzzing with stressed students who had their heads buried in nothing but their books.

I made my way to the far corner where I was sure no one would easily see me. I pulled out a chair and sat.

In a way, I was glad for the emptiness. I didn't want to see anyone to see me. I just wanted to be alone where I could sulk over my failure without being interrupted. 

I felt a lump form in my throat as once again, I thought about how much and hard I had studied this time, and how badly it had gone despite my efforts.

Pulling an all-nighter for my books was something that I had never done or dreamed of doing. But I did because I was so intentional in studying hard for this exam. 

Now, look at me. Already flopping the second paper.

Out of fifty questions, I was only able to attempt twenty five. Just twenty five questions.

I was confident about fifteen of my answers, but the remaining ten were complete guesses. So I panicked and hurriedly moved to the theory section where I barely managed to answer one out of the three questions we were required to answer, and even that answer was incomplete.

At that moment, I knew I was staring an F right in the face. 

All I wanted was to go home, lock myself in my room, cry my eyes out once more, and then sleep the rest of the day away, hoping that it would somehow make this nightmare-turned-reality disappear.

I must have been extremely stupid to think that I could make an “academic comeback” in my last year of school when all I've done right from the beginning was fail.

Academic comeback.

Hear how stupid that sounds.

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. He has always been right. From the moment I started failing every test I wrote in JSS2 and my grades began to drop, I should have seen the signs. It didn't have to take that ugly incident for Jidenna to call me what I am.

Dumb.

I remember that day vividly. Jidenna's harsh words cut deep, and I got so angry at him that I countered and even exchanged harsher words. It went on like that to date. But the truth was, I was only reacting out of hurt. I was deeply hurt by the truth and nothing else.

Ever since then, I would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, with the word "dumb" echoing in my mind. Thinking about all the tests I had failed, all the assignments I had messed up, and each time, his words would resurface.

During classes, I would sit quietly, avoiding eye contact by looking at my books and pretending to understand, terrified that the teachers would call on me. Terrified of the disappointment on their faces and the impatience in their voices when they would call on me.

No matter how many times the girls kept on assuring me that I wasn't a dullard, deep down, I knew it wasn't true. They were just trying to be good and kind friends. So I kept up a brave front, smiling and pretending to believe them, but inside, I was breaking.

The self-doubt grew bigger with each passing day, and no matter how hard I tried to suppress it, it was always there, lurking in the background. I wanted to believe I wasn't dumb, that there was some other explanation for my struggles, like my mum's death, but there was clearly none. Jidenna was right all along. And that realization was the hardest part of all.

Dumb pathetic girl.

Yes, Jidenna, you win.

"Idera," I turned away from the window to see Hugo approaching me with a mix of concern and surprise. "I wouldn't have guessed that you would be here."

"Why? Because I'm dumb?" I shot back, my voice edged with bitterness.

"What?" His face twisted in confusion before softening into a more understanding look. "No, no, no. That's not what I meant."

He pulled out the chair next to me and settled down.

"Idera, are you okay? I noticed you halfway into the exam. You didn't finish," he said.

I didn't give him a reply, instead, I turned my gaze back to the window, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

"But I'm sure you'll do well from the ones you answered," he continued, trying to offer reassurance.

"Your stupid friend has always been right. I'm an olodo, I don't know book," I muttered, feeling the weight of my own words.

Hugo pulled his chair closer, his eyes never leaving mine. 

"Now we all know Jidenna says trash most of the time. It's not true. He's just looking for ways to rile you up."

"No. Jidenna is saying the truth. He has always been saying the truth," I insisted, my frustration almost bubbling over.

"Nothing I read ever sticks, it just develops legs and wings and flies away. I don't even have an interest in reading. Whatever the teacher says in class sounds like gibberish to my ears so I don't understand shit."

I might as well pour out my entire life problems to him right now. I avoided looking at him, knowing all I would see was pity. And I hate that.

"And why haven't you told any of your friends this?"

I let out a long sigh. "Becauseeee... I don't want to bother them. They already have enough on their plates and I'm not going to add my stupid problem to it."

"Why didn't you come to me?" he pressed.

"You heard what I just said," I replied, exasperated.

"I really want to help you, Idera. This is just our second paper, so there's a little bit of time to get good grades on the rest."

"That's impossible, Hugo," I said, shaking my head.

"Stop underestimating yourself," he urged. "You'd be surprised to see what you can do."

Like what? What else could I possibly do to perform well on the rest of our papers? I realized there was no use arguing further. Hugo wasn't going to let this go. 

"Okay, how does today sound? I'll let Zina know and we can start something. And I promise, you're not bothering us."

"Fine," I agreed, though my voice lacked enthusiasm. 

Deep down, a small part of me hoped that maybe, just maybe, Hugo could help me find a way through this mess and I could somehow write the rest of my papers well.

"You know you also have to put in a lot of effort too."

"I know," I replied, trying to sound confident even though I felt like shit.

"Thank you."

He gave me a warm smile. The signature “Hugo” smile. 

Charming.

"No biggie. It's what friends do. Will you join Zina and me for lunch?" He asked, with eyes that were hopeful, almost pleading.

I considered it for a moment, but I didn't want to see anybody. 

"If lunch can happen here, then I'll join you."

"You know we can't eat up here," he reminded me, pointing at the large poster in the middle of the library which boldly stated that food was strictly prohibited.

I just shrugged. "I guess I'll have to pass then."

"Come on. Let's go."

He got up, stretching his hand toward me. I looked at his hand, then at him. A sigh escaped my lips as I took his hand, the warmth of his touch giving me a small comfort. With his help, I got up from the chair.

He pushed our chairs back into place, the sound of the legs against the floor echoing in the hushed library. And we made our way out of the library.

“Hugo!” The call stopped us in our tracks, and we both turned to see Jidenna approaching.

The misery I had managed to suppress came rushing back, quickly morphing into irritation. There and then, my mind replayed the humiliating moment when Jidenna effortlessly solved a maths problem I had struggled with.

That irritation festered into anger which I tried to hold it back, but it was no use.

"What do you want?" I snapped, cutting him off as he spoke to Hugo.

He paused, taken aback with a raised brow. 

"What, Idera?"

"Tell me, why would you help me?" I demanded, my voice sharp and accusatory. My eyes bore into his, searching for any flicker of insincerity.

I needed to understand. Why would someone who harbored as much hate towards me as I did towards him do that?  I needed to understand why Jidenna Kalu would get down from his high horse to help me.

It wasn't just curiosity; it was a gnawing need to understand the motives behind his unexpected gesture.

Pity was ruled out. It could never be pity. So it was definitely something else. An ulterior motive. Jidenna definitely had something up his sleeves.

His eyes narrowed at me. "Because it was so embarrassing seeing you out there, unable to solve a simple maths problem. And a thank you would do nicely."

A scoff left my lips.

"Thank you my foot," I retorted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "There's an ulterior motive to this. Let me just tell you, don't try me in this school, Jidenna."

"Look, I'm trying to be nice here, and you're not fucking making it easy for me." 

"Since when did all this bullshit start?" I shot back, my voice rising.

"You know what? You are such an ungrateful bitch," Jidenna spat as his face contorted with anger.

"I helped you solve what a JSS 1 student could solve without breaking a sweat while you stood there staring at the board like an idiot."

"That's enough," Hugo intervened sharply, stepping in between us.

With clenched fists, I bit back the words that were about to leave my mouth as Jidenna glared at me.  I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite the burning humiliation and anger simmering within me.

I sincerely hate you, Jidenna.

"Isn't it high time you two end this pointless bickering?"

“If he stops being a dickhead, then fine. All will be forgiven,” I shot back with a glare.

“Idera, I swear to God–”

“You swear to God you will do nothing, Jide.” Hugo interjected firmly, his hand placed squarely on Jidenna's chest to hold him back.

Jidenna's jaw clenched visibly, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he stared daggers at me. His whole demeanor was a coiled spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

But I wasn't going to give a response to push him further. I turned sharply on my heel and began to walk away, my steps echoing in the corridor. I could feel his burning stare bore into my back, but I ignored it and headed straight for the cafeteria. 

Getting there, I grabbed a plate, tray, and a bottle of water. I took a pack of jollof rice, tearing it open and skillfully pouring it onto my plate, then selected a piece of chicken before discarding the empty pack into a nearby trashcan.

I found a secluded table at the corner of the cafeteria and sat down with a sigh of relief. The air was thick with the comforting aroma of food  offering a welcome contrast to the tension in the hallway.

Closing my eyes briefly, I tried to push the heated argument out of my mind, focusing instead on the tray of food on front of me. I knew the confrontation with Jidenna wasn't over. The idiot was somehow going to come for me again. But for now, I allowed myself to relax and savour my delicious rice and chicken.

I noticed Hugo and Zina making their way toward my table with their trays. 

"Idera, are you okay?" Zina asked, concern evident in her voice as they sat down. "Hugo told me what happened."

"I'm fine," I replied with a smile, shoving a spoonful of rice into my mouth to avoid further questions.

"Are we meeting immediately after school or later?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something else.

"I asked Mr. Ayo for the keys to the study room," Hugo said as he took the seat across from me. "We'll use it after school."

"And how long are we staying?" I asked, dreading the long study session. But we have to do what we have to do.

"Depends," Hugo replied, piercing his juicebox with the straw. "But two hours max."

I wasn't as surprised as I would normally be, because I had somehow prepared my mind ahead. At least it's not eight hours.

"I'll try to stay alive."

They both chuckled, and Zina gave me a playful nudge.

"You'll survive. It's just two hours."

"Yeah, but two hours with textbooks feels like an eternity," I groaned, shaking my head.

"We'll make it interesting," Zina said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Something very unlike her.

"Maybe we'll sneak in some snacks or take short breaks. You know, to keep the energy up."

Hugo grinned. "And think about it this way, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can leave."

Well, when they put it like that.

"Fine, fine," I conceded, smiling a little. "Let's get this over with.” 

Soon, lunch was over and school closed shortly after.

I was gathering my things and preparing for the study session, when Dami, Oma, and Lora approached me.

"Are you not going home?" Dami asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Not now, and not with you guys," I replied, stuffing my books into my backpack.

"Why not?" Oma chimed in, sitting on my chair and tilting her head to the side.

"Hugo wants to be my after-school lesson teacher," I explained.

"Okay oh. Just don't get home late so your dad won't remove your head."

She didn't have to remind me about that because I was all too familiar with what was awaiting me at home if I missed my curfew.

The thought of facing my Dad's anger was on my mind, but I couldn't afford to think about it. My grades were my top priority, and I had to do everything I could to get them on track.

"Yes ma," I replied with a mock salute.

“By the way, Angry Bird is glaring daggers at you,” Lora said, nudging me.

“Who?” I asked, looking up in confusion.

“Who else would kill you if he had the chance?” she replied, rolling her eyes.

I glanced around and my gaze landed on him, sitting across the class. His eyes were locked onto me with a fierce intensity, and with a look of anger and malice.

A shiver ran down my spine at the sight, and I looked away immediately.

“Did you steal his babe or something? Wait, are you and Serena…” Dami trailed off, making a scissor motion with her fingers.

“Are you high??” I snapped, eyes wide in shock and  irritation at her absurd suggestion.

“Oh, Dera, you didn’t tell us you were into all that nasty stuff,” Oma teased, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Where in the world did I see these girls from?

“Come, shut up, abeg.” I said, picking up a book and smacking them on their shoulders with it before someone would hear any more stupid words fall out of their mouths.

“What happened na?” Dami asked, she and Oma chuckling as they tried to dodge my hits.

“But don’t you think the way he helped me out that day was suspicious?” I asked, lowering my voice and placing the book down as the thought suddenly came to mind.

“I definitely think it was sus,” Lora said, nodding vigorously.

“Maybe he likes you,” Dami, again, suggested with a smirk.

This babe has lost every sense of reasoning today.

“You are definitely high,” I retorted, shaking my head.

“Or he’s changing his ways and trying to be nice,” Lora offered, though she didn't sound convinced. Even she knew how crazy that sounded to be convinced.

Jidenna Kalu could never ever be nice.

“Jidenna would rather eat shit, give up his post as sports prefect, and make peace with Umar than be nice to you,” Oma said with a laugh, and Dami followed suit.

"Ouch," I said, feigning hurt.

“Ah ahn. That’s not very nice of you,” Lora said with a pout.

“What? Am I lying?” Oma asked, raising an eyebrow.

That was infact the reality. Nice and Jidenna would never happen.

“See, you guys should go home abeg,” I said, trying to end the conversation.

"Be safe baby doll. Call us if anything happens," Lora said, giving me a quick hug before she and the others left the classroom.

As I continued packing my books, I could feel Jidenna's glare bore into me from across the class, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. 

What the fuck is his problem? 

I decided to try and ignore him while I waited for Hugo and Zina to be done with their meeting with VP academics. I was successful for a minute until I decided to glance around the class and realized I was one of the last students left.

Jidenna hadn’t moved, and his eyes were still fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart race. I was beginning to get scared of being left alone with him, because the boy might just murder me in cold blood.

Without wasting another second, I grabbed my bag and hurried out of the class. I walked, my footsteps quickening with each step, and didn't stop until I reached the study room.

I slipped inside, and closed the door behind me with a sigh of relief. Hugo and Zina were already there, setting up their books and notes.

“What happened? We thought you'd already be here waiting.” Zina asked, looking up from her notebook.

“I was waiting for you guys in class.”

“What happened? You look shaken."

“Jidenna,” I said simply, shaking my head. “He was acting weird.”

Hugo gave a dismissive wave and opened up his notebook. "Don’t worry about him.”

“If you say so."

Settling into my seat, I switched off my phone to avoid any distractions and pulled out my books. The lessons began with Hugo patiently explaining the concepts of linear equation while Zina and I took turns asking questions and jotting down notes. Despite the earlier tension, the study session was actually productive, and I felt myself gradually relaxing and assimilating.

"Alright, let's go over that one more time," Hugo said, pointing at a particularly equation on the board. "Idera, why don't you try solving it?"

My stomach twisted into a large knot as I stood up, and approached the board. My palms were clammy, and my heart pounded in my chest. The fear of flopping this one loomed large in my mind. What if I couldn't solve it?

You can do this, girl.

Taking a deep breath, I started to work through the steps Hugo had taught us. The room was eerily silent, save for the soft scratch of the marker on the board. I could feel their eyes on me, but it wasn't the usual harsh, critical gaze I had grown accustomed to. Instead, it felt supportive, encouraging even.

Strange, but rather nice. It felt good not to have those harsh gazes on me for once when it came to things like this.

As I reached the final step, my hands were trembling slightly, but I managed to complete the equation. I wrote out my answer and turned to Hugo, who was watching me with a smile of approval.

Oh, thank God!

"Good job, student," Hugo said, taking the marker from my hand.

I actually solved a math question!

"Thanks," I replied, a wave of relief washing over me. I felt a sense of accomplishment, as if I had done something grand, and the world was appreciating and commending me for it.

Zina stretched and yawned. "Wow, I can't believe we managed to get through all that.”

I laughed. "Yeah, my brain has already turned to mush I'm sure."

Hugo glanced at his watch. "Looks like we're done here. It's getting late."

We started packing up our things, and as we were about to leave, Hugo turned to me.

"Idera, I should give you a ride home. It's pretty late, and I don't want you walking home alone.”

"Yeah, that would be great, actually."

"No problem," he said with a reassuring smile. 

We walked out of the study room together after closing the windows and putting things in order, and Hugo locked the door. The hallways were now quiet and mostly empty. Even the janitors had gone home.

Wow. Was it this late?

Hugo led the way to the parking lot, where his car was parked. The sky was already darkening, and the last rays of sunlight were fading into the dark.

"Thanks for this, Hugo," I said as we reached his car. "I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," he replied, unlocking the car doors. "Oya get in."

Zina waved goodbye as she headed in the opposite direction where a black Lexus car was waiting. 

"Be safe, Idera! See you tomorrow!"

"You too!" I called back, waving as I climbed into the passenger seat.

Hugo started the car, and we pulled out of the parking lot. The drive was quiet at first, with the soft hum of the engine and the gentle music from the radio creating a peaceful ambiance.

"So," Hugo began, glancing over at me, "you want to talk about what happened with Jidenna? It sounded pretty intense."

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "I don't know. I don't know if it's just me or he seemed scarier."

“Maybe he's angry that he didn't get to bash you the way he wanted and get it out of his system.” He chuckled.

“Hugo, I'm sure if that boy had a knife, he'd have hacked me to death.”

“Oya, let's not think that far. Everything's fine. Once you get home, have a shower, revise and go to bed.” He said, and I nodded.

Maths exam was tomorrow and I had to do all the revisions I could before tomorrow.

The rest of the drive was filled with light conversation, and before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of my house. 

"Here we are. Safe and sound," Hugo said, parking the car in front of the gate.

"Thanks again, Hugo," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.

"No problem at all," he replied with a smile. "See you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," I said, opening the car door. "Good night!"

"Good night, Idera," he called as I stepped out and made my way to the front door.

I waved one last time as Hugo drove away, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Tomorrow was going to go really smoothly.

As soon as I walked into the house, I barely had time to close the door behind me before I felt a sharp, stinging lash on my back.

What the fuck??

Pain seared through me, and I gasped, my bag slipping from my shoulder and crashing to the ground. I spun around, only to see my father standing there, his face twisted in anger, and the belt already swinging towards me again.

Instinctively, I threw my hands up in front of me, trying to shield myself from the blow. The belt struck my forearms with a vicious snap, sending a jolt of agony through my body and I cried out, the sound echoing through the hallway.

"Where have you been?" he roared, not giving me a moment to explain. "Do you know what time it is?"

Before I could recover from the first stroke, another one landed on my side, the pain doubling me over. Tears sprang to my eyes as I struggled to stay on my feet, my mind racing to find the right words to calm him down.

"I was studying!" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling. "We had a study session after school."

"Studying?" he bellowed, his face reddening. "You think I don't know when you're lying to me?"

The belt came down again, this time across my back, and I collapsed to my knees, the tears now flowing freely. 

"I'm not lying! Please, Daddy, I'm not lying!"

Suddenly, I felt myself being yanked away and taken upstairs. I looked up through the tears to see it was my brother, Iyanu, dragging me along. His grip was firm but gentle, trying to minimize the pain while still getting me away from my Dad quickly.

He pulled me into my room and shut the door behind us. I collapsed onto my bed, my body trembling from the pain and fear.

“Ini, let go of me, my friend!” Dad's loud voice boomed from downstairs, anger resonating through the walls.

“Dad, no! Just calm down!" I heard my other brother, Ini, plead desperately.

“Uncle, calm down,” another voice said, filled with concern and urgency. It was familiar but difficult to place through the fog of pain.

“That girl will tell me where she's coming from by this time! It's 6:30 in the evening and that's when she's coming back from wherever she went!” my father bellowed, his voice shaking with fury.

“Uncle, calm down. I’m sure she has a reason,” the familiar voice insisted, more firmly this time.

“What stupid reason does she have? Ehn?”

“Are you okay?” Iyanu asked softly, kneeling beside me and drawing my attention away from the chaos downstairs. His eyes were full of concern, and he gently touched my arm where the belt had struck.

I could only nod in response as the pain was too much for me to speak. My body trembled with each wave of agony, and tears continued to stream down my face. 

"I'll get the first aid box. Just hold on.”

He rushed out of the room and returned quickly with the first aid kit, he opened it and began to treat my wounds.

The antiseptic stung like hell, and I cried out as he dabbed a particularly painful spot.

"Sorry, sorry," Iyanu murmured, his eyes filled with concern as he inspected the wound. His hands were steady, but I could see the tension in his jaw from the anger he was holding back. 

He took a closer look at one of the deeper lashes, his brow furrowing. 

"Fuck. It's deep," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

"I'll take you to the hospital so they can stitch it up there."

"No, please," I protested weakly. "I don't want to cause more trouble."

"You need proper medical care," Iyanu insisted, his tone firm but gentle. "This isn't something we can handle at home. It could get infected if we don't treat it properly."

"Okay," I finally agreed, my voice barely a whisper.

Iyanu nodded and quickly gathered the first aid supplies back into the box then wrapped a small towel around the wound.

"Let's go," he said, helping me to my feet. 

As we left my room, I leaned on Iyanu for support, every step a reminder of the pain coursing through my body.

The house was quiet now and my Dad was nowhere in sight. I expected this, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. He stopped, they told him to because it would only do nothing but hurt me. But I guess he couldn't control himself this time.

We moved quietly through the house and out to the car. Iyanu helped me into the backseat, making sure I was as comfortable as possible.

“Is she okay?” the familiar voice asked, filled with concern.

“Yeah. She just has a really deep cut and I'm not sure it's from the belt. She must have hit her hand somewhere or something.”

The door opened, and I saw my cousin, Micheal, get in.

“Baby girl, how are you feeling?” he asked softly, placing a hand on my head and stroking my hair gently.

I shook my head, unable to speak because of the pain coursing through me. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I bit my lip to keep myself from crying out.

“We'll take you to the hospital and you'll be fine,” he said reassuringly.

The drive to the hospital was a blur of streetlights and concerned glances from Michael. He kept talking to me, trying to keep me calm and distracted from the throbbing pain in my arm and all over my body. And it worked.

"We're almost there," he said, squeezing my hand gently. "Just hang in there a little longer."

I nodded weakly. We arrived at the hospital, and Iyanu quickly got out and came around to help me. Michael ran ahead to alert the staff, and within moments, a nurse appeared with a wheelchair, and they carefully helped me into it. 

"Let's get you inside," the nurse said kindly, wheeling me through the entrance and into the emergency room.

The hospital's bright lights and antiseptic smell hit me immediately, making me feel nauseous. Iyanu stayed close by, his hand reassuringly on my shoulder while Michael spoke to the receptionist, explaining the situation. 

The nurse immediately began trying to stop the bleeding and clean the cut, which was painful as hell. The antiseptic stung, sending sharp jolts of pain through my hand. I winced and bit my lip, trying to stay still as she worked.

Once she was done, a doctor came in and began speaking with the nurse. They exchanged a few words, before the doctor turned his attention to me.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Adams," he said with a very calm voice. "I see you have quite a deep cut here."

He examined the wound carefully, asking me a few questions about how it happened. I didn't have the strength to speak, or even know what to say, but thankfully, Iyanu had already begun explaining how I had slipped from a stool while trying to bring out a ceramic cup from the kitchen drawer. The cup broke as I fell and a broken piece caused the deep cut.

"Alright, we're going to need to stitch this up," Dr. Adams said. "But first, we'll numb the area so you won't feel any more pain."

I was taken to a treatment room where they carefully lifted me onto the examination table. The nurse prepared the local anesthetic and prepped the area around the wound.

"This will sting a little," Dr. Adams said.

I nodded, holding on to my brother's hand and bracing myself. As he injected the numbing agent, I winced slightly, but soon the pain began to fade to a dull numbness.

As it spread, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. The pain was finally receding, allowing me to take a few deep breaths and steady myself for the procedure.

Dr. Adams gave me a reassuring smile before he began stitching the cut. I looked away as I didn't want to watch a doctor stick a needle and thread into my skin continuously to sew it back together.

The only thing I could feel was a faint tugging sensation where the needle pierced my skin.

"All done," the doctor said after what felt like an eternity. He carefully bandaged the wounds, ensuring they were properly protected.

"Make sure to keep the area clean and dry. I'll prescribe some antibiotics and painkillers. Come back in a week so we can check on the healing."

I looked down at my bandaged arm, the fact that my Dad had caused this, dawning on me.

As Michael helped me back into the wheelchair, I realized just how exhausted I was. But at least the worst was over. For now.

"Thank you, doctor," Iyanu said, his relief quite evident.

"You're welcome. And don't hesitate to come back if there's any issue," the doctor replied.

As we left the hospital building, the cool evening air felt refreshing on my face, and I inhaled deeply, grateful to be out of that nauseating building. Iyanu and Michael helped me back into the car, and we drove to a nearby fast-food place to get some food. 

"You need to eat something," Iyanu said, handing me a pack of spaghetti and a bottle of water. His eyes were filled with concern as he sat down beside me.

“I can cut it up for you if you want.”

He took the food from me and used the fork to cut the long strands into shorter strands so I could eat it easily, then handed it back to me.

"Thanks," I murmured.

The food tasted quite bland, and each bite felt like an effort, as my mind was fuzzy with the dull pain and discomfort. I chewed slowly, trying to focus on the motion rather than the lingering throbs in my body.

Iyanu watched me for a moment, then spoke.

"Will you stay with me till you're done with your exams?"

I blinked, trying to process his words through the haze of fatigue.

"I have exams," I said, my voice barely a whisper, as if stating the obvious fact would somehow help me understand.

"That's what I said. Till after your exams," he repeated patiently.

"Michael will bring your books and your stuff over. You can have your friends over or have your study sessions in school. I'll come and pick you up when you're done."

The idea of staying with Iyanu, away from the tension and fear at home, was a relief I hadn't realized I needed. Anything to be away from that man.

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

Iyanu gave me a small, reassuring smile. 

I wasn't able to finish up the food, so he packed it up and drove us back to his house, dropping Micheal along the way. He parked the car in and helped me inside, his arm around my shoulders for support.

Once inside, Iyanu settled me comfortably in the living room. The soft cushions of the couch felt like a haven for my aching body. I had only managed a bite of food earlier, so Iyanu put on a show for me, then microwaved the spaghetti for me.

"Try to eat a bit more," he encouraged, placing the warm food in front of me.

I nodded, picking up the fork with trembling hands. The aroma of the spaghetti filled the room, and I took a small bite. It tasted better this time, and the warmth and flavors brought a bit of comfort. Slowly, I managed to eat more, and Iyanu watched me with a mix of concern and relief.

When I couldn't eat any more, he cleared the dishes and returned with my medication.

"Here are your meds," he said, placing the pill bottles on the table. "Take one of each."

I nodded and took the pills with some water. The cold liquid soothed my throat, and I felt a bit relieved knowing the medicine would help ease the pain and help me sleep soundly.

"Thank you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as exhaustion was weighing heavily on me.

Iyanu smiled gently. "Let's go upstairs so you can have some rest."

I nodded again, feeling the fatigue deep in my bones. Iyanu helped me to my feet and led me upstairs to the room he had prepared for me. The bed was neatly made, and the soft light from a bedside lamp casted a warm glow over the room. 

There was a big white tee on the bed, so he excused me while I took off my blood stained uniform, while being careful with my arm, and put on the shirt.

He came back in shortly after with a white towel which he hung on a chair in the room, and helped me into bed, adjusting the pillows behind me to ensure I was comfortable.

"Try to get some sleep. I'll be right downstairs if you need anything."

As he turned off the light and quietly left the room, taking my uniform with him, I closed my eyes, and got drawn into a deep sleep.




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