LOVE BEYOND SCARS

“Life is beautiful" Indeed! but not to all. Few think the creator is partial. I don't though. I just listen to them when they spew their frustrations and blame the supreme one. Some of their questions still resound in my head when I get in ‘the mood’. Why does the world need to be filled with different races and languages and diversities in the first place? Why couldn't it just be a single race united by one tongue. Oh I almost forgot the foolishness of Babel. Not to dive into the tricky dishing out of wealth to a lucky few, and poverty, hardship and penury to the masses. That's a really risky way to think if you ask me, even though of course no one really asks for my opinion…. Nothing good comes out of complaining. I've learnt that the hard way unfortunately. Especially about something that has always been before human existence. I mean if you must get on his good side for one, you have to be positive, and obedient, trust in him and take life the way he dishes it out to you”. But that's just me with my weird analogies again no one asked for. That's me. The weird one that doesn't fit the description of regular. Different in every way u can think of, and trust me…not the popular ways that come easily to the human mind. I'm talking insides; emotions, perceptions, the innermost and most indepth personality people often ignore or don't even know exist. Grace…. My name. The name my mom whispered as she drew her last breath. The name I bear like a weight I fear would kill me one day. A name with sad tales I get reminded of each time I hear it often screamed in a bid to summon my unfortunate presence. Trust me, I hate it. Every letter of the alphabet that makes it; the fact that my name couldn't even garner more syllables to boost even a single part of my life, to give hope for what could be. I'll explain the why's as we proceed. I'm 16, dark like the bottom of a burnt pot, ugly! The type people see and shake their heads in wonder. Wonder of what kind of X and X made me. One more question I omitted in the tale of my thoughts when I get in 'the mood'. Why do some girls get the facials and the body and good voice and the handsome admirers and the leisure to be sassy and lovely family with actual mothers and no stepmothers that show you the true meaning of pain and…..and… the list goes on depending on the degree of pain I'm in at that moment. Why do they get all that while some are given the scraps? Some like me. I'm ugly, with a face full of acne that holds more pus than I've seen on any other human being. No cream works, no remedy, organic or otherwise. I'm luckily slim and tall, but that's the only good thing about my physique. At least my late mom didn't forget to give me those genes before she left the world. I have a stepmother, Flora, married by my dad a month after my mom's passing. What a jerk he is! My dad. He's the reason I'm this weird and unhappy and angry at the world and ugly!! Cause he's ugly in every sense of it. My stepmom, the absolute worst! She hates me as much as I hate her. The way she treats me, one would think I'm the reason for all her misfortunes in the world. She has 2 kids; 2 girls. I didn't think my life could get worse until they came. We, the miserable family of Daniel Findel, all live in Nigeria, the supposed giant of Africa. People abroad think there's no luxury or wealth there, but there's more to it than meets the eye. Dear reader, I'll have you know that I've learnt to live life as it comes, grateful that I have it at all, and believing that somehow, all things would work together for good. I hope at the end your read, you'll see reasons why I hang on to this very promise from the holy book.