Light in my life

02|Maybe

ANABELLE POV.

School was a blur and before I could grasp anything, here I am standing at the schools parking lot waiting for my driver to pick me up.

Its been thirty minutes and I still haven't seen any sign of him. I wonder what happened, he's never late to pick me up. I hope he's okay.

"Green eyes" someone yells from behind me and I instantly recognise the voice.

God please not him again.

"Hey" he say standing in front of me, panting like he ran to get here.

"What do you want?" I ask harshly. He looks hurt for a second, then he starts grinning at me.

Are we being serious right now.

"You" he says and my eyes widen, I can feel my heart beating faster. I open my mouth but no words come out.

He chuckles while shaking his head,"you're so cute" he says and I just feel like slapping him.

"I am not cute, and what do you even want from me?" I ask slightly annoyed.

"Do you want a ride home?" he ask.

"Do i look like I need your help?" I reply his question with a question.

"You've been standing here for thirty minutes so I thought you might need a ride home" he says scratching the back of his neck.

"You have been stalking me?" I ask arms crossed.

"N-no, I haven't been stalking you... I just happened to see you standing here" he says looking everywhere but me.

"I'm fine. I don't need your help and please stay away from me, just because I exchanged a few words with you doesn't mean we're friends or anything and do not forget that you broke my phone" I say looking into his eyes to show my seriousness.

His face morphed into that of sadness and I start feeling guilty for saying that to him but I have to, I can't let him pop my bubble that's shielding me from the hurt of the world.

His lips form a thin line and he nod before walking away, I watch him getting into a car before zooming off.

??????????

I make it to my house forty minutes later.

Not a home, a house because a home is filled with love but mine has nothing but sadness.

I go to my bedroom quickly and drop my bag on my bed, I take a quick shower and put on black sweat pants and a black T-shirt.

I take out my books and start doing the assignments given to us by the teachers.

I finish after two hours, I arrange my books and drop them on my study table my eyes lands on my drawer the sudden urge to open it creeps into me.

My hands shaking.

My palms sweating.

My mind in a constant battle one side telling me to turn around and look away while the other telling me to just take a little.

It won't hurt.

Against my own will I open the drawer and I'm greeted with a small packet containing a dreadful white substance. The urge to take it grows inside of me making me remove the pack from the drawer. I stare at it.

Just one time.

It wont hurt.

I'll throw it away and never use it again.

Just...once

NO.

I feel a switch flip inside of me making me throw the pack inside my drawer and close it.

I promise myself not to use it anymore.

I'm not a drug addict.

I'm not a drug addict.

NOT A DRUG ADDICT.

I keep repeating to myself, trying to drill the words into my head, trying to make me believe that I'm OK, fine...

And not f****d up.

I close my eyes taking deep breaths trying to calm myself and my mind.

Breath in

Breath out.

Just like the therapist told me.

I open my eyes and move to my bed. I lay down covering myself with my thick duvet.

I lay on my back, facing the ceiling remembering my childhood, when my mom, dad, me and Freddie we're all a loving family. When we leave in a smaller house in Lagos, before we moved to a bigger house in Abuja.

Dad owned a small shoe company, mom had a small fashion shop and Freddie was still in college. We weren't rich but we were happy. Dad would come back home early for family dinners and we would talk and laugh till nine pm when we would all go to bed. At night Freddie would sneak into my room with a tub of ice cream and we would devour it while watching YouTube videos.

But everything changed when dad got a contract worth millions. We were happy, I was happy because we would finally become rich. I use to envy rich kids in our school that time, the clothes they wear, the shoes they put on, even the bags they use, I wanted that kind of life.

Because of the contract dad started coming home late, he would miss the family dinners but it was okay. Mom was there. But then mom also started having contracts and she would come home late and order food from a restaurant, but it was okay I still had Freddie. But then Freddie joined dad's business and he stopped coming to my room with a tub of ice cream, always saying he's busy with work.

Then one day, I asked him why he has been drifting away from me and we had an argument and he said...

'I'm not a child anymore Eniola, so I won't do childish s**t with you. I'm grown up and you should grow up too and stop seeking attention'

Maybe if dad didn't get that contract he wouldn't have said that, maybe I wouldn't have gone to that club thinking that it'll show me how to grow up, maybe I wouldn't have met that weird looking girl who gave me drugs, maybe I wouldn't have taken them, maybe I wouldn't have loved the feeling of being high so much that I take it when I feel depressed,maybe I wouldn't even be depressed, maybe I wouldn't be repeating to my self that I'm not addicted even if inside of me I think I am.

Maybe I wouldn't be so f****d up.

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