“We should call first.” John said, helping me pack my clothes.
“You call.” I said back, having him pause to look at me. I sighed, continuing with stuffing all the clothes in the bag with such force. I did not want to go, I did not want to go. What would I even say? My hand wrecked through my very short hair. I groaned, sitting in the bed in frustration.
I picked up my phone, unlocking it and going straight to all the threats my brothers had been sending. The last one sent by Snandiso went like this: Don’t even come back if you know what’s good for you little sister.
A chill went down my spine just reading it again. I could feel his anger just from the text now John was saying I should call, and say what?
‘Hi brother, sorry for running away, by the way I am pregnant and coming home.
