Broken-Broken - Episode 3

My Crush Crashed

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Sorry folks, our power supply has been having issues since last week and its really affecting my posts. So, lets dive in…

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Last Episode-

Standing by the door, looking as beautiful as her ever in her sparkling diamonds and expensive gown, was my mother, she looked very angry.

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“So, what is happening here?” She demanded.

Mama Zainab and I exchanged looks and I forced myself to raise my body up a little….

“So, you both are having a family meeting, did my own invitation get lost in the mail?” She said further, now advancing towards us gracefully. Her eyes sparkling like that of a cat.

My heart was beating fast and this increased the flow of my blood….worsening the cramp . I shut my eyes as I felt something tighten at my side.

“Madam, please, this girl needs to be admitted. She is not fine at all.”

“Oh! Really? So when did you become a caretaker?” Mother said again, and I opened my eyes. Mama Zainab was already standing up to mother, who was looking at her with hatred.

“Madam, please, if nothing at all, please give her some money, let me get some pad for her, I don’t mind if you take it from my income, please.”

Before I knew it, Mama Zainab was on her knees…I shut my eyes again as I felt another cramp coming…I couldn’t breathe, the more I breathed the worse it got so I just held my breath until it dissolved…

“Mama Zainab?” Mother said sternly. “I realized that your work is not important to you

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. You are fired! And you…..!”

My eyes sprang open….she was talking to me….

“If you do not get your lazy body off that bed this minute and meet me downstairs, I will throw your bags into the street!”

Without looking at us, she stormed out of my room.

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Mama Zainab was still crying and I didn’t know what to do to stop her from crying…because I was too.

Later she stood up, cleaning her face and moved to the door. She pulled down my towel which was hanging on the door. Then she walked back to the table, opened the drawer, took my scissors and began to cut the towel into pieces.

Had she gone mad? I thought to myself but she began to fold the pieces in multiple folds one by one. There were eight in all and she handed one to me.

“Use this. Go clean and remove that messy one. Hurry up before your mother comes back.”

Sadly, I collected the piece from her, I later understood she had folded it in the shape of a pad and it was really thicker. Without thinking, I embraced her and we both cried.

“Let me come with you Mama”

She smiled and patted my back. “You will only starve to death if you do that. I love you, dear. God will save you one day.”

Without taking another look at me, she walked out of my room, shutting the door after her.

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Hours Later

The party had already started and our floor was filled with many people. People were dancing to the deafening music.

I was in a hidden corner, in my dirty clothes, sitting on the tiled floor as I accessed each guest.

Nothing interested me more in life than fashion- I breathed it.

Anytime mother was asleep, I would always sneak back to the sitting room to put on the TV. I could spend hours watching Fashion Opera. It was the only thing that brought me joy. I knew the names of almost all the world designers by heart; I could tell their work by just touching or seeing it.

Mother didn’t know this.

We usually held parties every last Saturday of the month, both known and unknown people would come, especially mother’s customers. I used to wonder if these people were unaware that the mother was sleeping with all of them but the irony was that, some would even come with their wives.

I didn’t understand.

Anyways, I love the parties, though it would give me much work to do before and after. I mean, now that mama Zainab was gone, I even had much more to do. But one thing that encouraged me was that I would get the chance to see the latest outfit and cloth even though I never owned any. I always dreamed that one day, I would own my own clothing line.

I sighted mother talking with her friends. Her vain friends.

Sometimes I wondered what kind of relationship they had. You would see them laughing with each other even though they hated each other and might not talk again till next month when we would throw another party.

Mother said they were serpents and they were jealous of her wealth and achievement. It made me wonder, what achievement?

She was comfortable and our house was really big and beautiful. She drove a nice car but she was a dignified whore!

Well, maybe sleeping with men and asking them to bring their wives without them suspecting a thing was an achievement. You could tell me.

Mother was beautiful-the most beautiful I have ever seen actually. Unlike her friends, she did n’t need plastic surgery.

She had used a pair of contact lenses, replacing her dark-brownish pupils with an indigo ocean. Her hair was red gold, tumbling out of her scalp and cascading down her back like a waterfall. Strawberry lips that seemed as if something has just wiped half of the lipstick off……I realized her friends were looking at her shoes, pointing and gasping…..that was when I realized she was wearing the Luis Vitton Black Italy Pumps but they were also fake.   You probably would not understand but Luis Vitton is a world designer and I know all his works by heart even though I do not own any, I can tell which was fake. Those were always cheaper than the normal price.

Mother was vain.

 She would throw parties each month for two reasons: it was either she had something to celebrate or had something to show off. Today they were both. She never liked her friends and they didn’t either. I wonder if they were all wh*ring around like her.

My mother was smart and clever,  she covered her whoring pretty well with charity stunts, the funny part was that the wives of those she slept with were parts of her contributors.

It was mother’s 37th birthday for the fifth time. I hope you understand. she has been clocking 37 for the past five years so, you can calculate her age.

I looked away as she sighted me looking at her before she was distracted by one of her fake friends again.

I swallowed-that was close. She never liked me anywhere around her party. She once said I was a colossal disgrace….

Anyways, I continued accessing the guests…and I felt my stomach turn inside me as I spotted Honorable.

He was talking with one another man that I couldn’t recognize.

 I hated the man so much-the honorable. He was also mother’s closest customer, he bought her the recent car she is driving now.

He was also a divorcee, if not, I would have reported him to his wife-I still had plans for him though for raping me and making me commit murder…he was turning his face so I looked away…his name was the top list on the people I would deal with in my future when I have finally become….


I heard a voice behind me and I immediately turned around. When I saw who it was, I have never been so ashamed….

“Are you okay?”

My heart was beginning to rise and fall and my palms were sweaty. I thought I hid my hands so well.

“Hi...hi Francis,” I replied.

He was a waiter and he has been my crush ever since mother employed the services of his team to her third 37th birthday celebration a few years back.

I could tell he could be nothing less than five years older than I was…but he was really so cute and nice.

He had told me I was beautiful the first time we met while I was helping him to clean the tumblers…and surprisingly for the first time I had blushed, who wouldn’t?

His skin was olive brown, pointy nose, and woven hair. He wasn’t muscular but he wasn’t thin either.

Read " Bleeding Petals " by the same author ( Tobi Loba )

. He was wearing an apron and with the way his trousers looked, I could tell he sagged.

He had asked for my phone number but I had no phone so we only met a year after on the next birthday.

That was when he found out that I had a thing for fashion-

“I was hoping I would find you today.” He said, beaming at me…

I couldn’t even look at him, I felt so embarrassed.

“Here.” He handed me a book. It was later I realized it was a fashion book….containing everything about clothing, hair, and accessories.

I couldn’t say anything; I just looked at him as my heart kept racing….

“I do not have money to buy this…” I replied but he laughed.

“It’s a gift…I thought maybe today if I give you that, you could pay me by telling me your name.”

My heart melted. No one has ever given me a gift before…so I smiled and looked at him. He was way taller. I was having a huge crush and I was sweating…

“My name… name is scar….”

“Scar? What kind of name is that? Is that a shortened form or something?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s just Scar.”

He was still smiling. “That is wow….anyways, you are beautiful and you don’t seem like a scar to me. Who even names someone that anyway. Can I give you a nickname?”

I nodded.

“How about sunshine?”

His eyes twinkled in the light as his dimples deepened. Within that moment I focused on his lip, it was shiny and had a strawberry color….strawberry….I had seen them before. I looked past him…at mother who was now looking at us and my heart sank as I figured it…..mother was sleeping with him too…..

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hmmm....i donno what to say.....comments please....

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