2.Something Is Not Adding Up
1044 Words
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not even small.
I kept turning on my bed, staring at the ceiling like answers were written there.
“My father is not my father.”
The sentence kept replaying in my head like a broken song.
At some point, I even laughed.
Because how?
How does someone just drop something like that and expect you to move on?
And the craziest part?
I acted like I was fine.
I even went to the kitchen later that night to drink water, and my mom was there.
We looked at each other.
She smiled and so did I, like nothing happened.
Madness.
The next morning, I woke up with a headache.
The kind that sits behind your eyes and refuses to go.
I picked up my phone immediately, there were no missed calls, just notifications from Snapchat, i********:, t****k and w******p. Some were still sending me birthday messages: “25 looks good on you 😍”, “Soft life queen 💅🏽”,“Where’s our party?”
I almost hissed, if only they knew.
I opened my front camera and stared at myself. I still had my oval-shaped face, the same brown eyes. Nothing had changed, but somehow everything had changed.
“Cynthia!”
My mom’s voice came from the sitting room. I froze for a second, I considered pretending like I didn’t hear.
But she called again.
I dragged myself out of bed and walked to the sitting room slowly.
She was arranging something on the table like yesterday didn’t happen.
“You’re awake,” she said casually.
I just nodded.
“Come and eat.”
Eat?
I looked at her properly, this woman.
This same woman that changed my entire life in one sentence.
She wants me to eat?
“I’m not hungry,” I muttered.
She paused.
Then looked at me, really looked this time.
“You’re still thinking about what I told you yesterday,” she said.
I laughed, a short dry laugh.
“What do you expect?” I replied.
“You dropped a bomb, and you want me to just… what? Move on?”
She sighed and sat down.
“I didn’t want to tell you like that,” she said softly.
“But you did.”
Silence.
I crossed my arms.
“If you hadn’t told me, I would have lived my life peacefully,” I added.
“And live a lie?” she shot back immediately.
That one hit, I won’t lie.
But still…
“Why now?” I asked.
“Why did you suddenly decide that I should know?”
She hesitated.
And that was the first thing that made my chest tighten again.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I said slowly.
“No”
“There is,” I cut her off.
“Because this doesn’t make sense. You’ve kept this secret for 25 years, and suddenly you just wake up and confess?”
She stood up and started pacing.
“I just felt it was time,” she said.
I shook my head.
“No. That’s not it.”
Something wasn’t adding up.
And I could feel it in my bones.
“Who is he?” I asked.
She stopped moving.
“My real father,” I clarified.
“Who is he?”
Silence.
“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” she said finally.
I let out a small laugh, of course.
“You’ve already started, Mom,” I said.
“You don’t get to stop halfway.”
Her expression hardened a little.
“It’s not as simple as you think, Cynthia.”
“Then make me understand.”
Another silence, it lasted longer this time and heavier.
Then she said something that made my heart drop.
“He doesn’t know about you.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“He doesn’t know you exist.”
For a moment, I couldn’t even process it.
So not only is my father not my father…
My actual father doesn’t even know I exist?
Wow.
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“Okay… that’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine.
Not even close.
“Does anyone else know?” I asked.
“No.”
“So I’m the only one walking around with this information?”
She didn’t answer, which was enough.
I nodded slowly.
“Alright,” I said.
And then I turned and walked away.
“Cynthia”
I didn’t stop.
If I stayed there one more second, I was going to say something I might regret.
Back in my room, I shut the door and leaned against it.
The sound felt louder than it should.
I leaned against it and just stood there.
Still, Breathing.
But not really feeling like I was inside my body.
My phone buzzed.
Birthday messages.
Calls I didn’t feel like answering.
People were laughing on the internet while my life was doing somersaults.
I dropped the phone on the bed as I sat down slowly.
I tried to think.
But my mind refused to stay in one place.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard her voice again.
“Your father is not your father.”
I exhaled sharply.
No, I just can’t do this right now.
Not like this.
Not alone in my room spiraling like this.
My hand reached for my phone again.
Instinctively.
Amaka.
I opened the chat.
Typed:
“Are you around?”
Then I stopped.
I stared at it.
And deleted it.
No, not this.
Not this kind of information.
If I spoke, I might say too much.
Or worse… break in a way I couldn’t control.
I dropped the phone again and stood up as I walked to the mirror. I stared at myself, I still had the same oval shaped face, same eyes and I looked the same as always.
But nothing felt the same anymore.
“Cynthia…” I whispered to myself.
Like maybe saying my name would remind me who I was.
But it didn’t. I turned away from the mirror.
And for the first time…
I realized something
I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do next.
Because whatever this is…
It’s bigger than me.
And I’m not ready for it.
Not even close.
- Writer
