Episode Three- Diary Of A Teenage Girl

Episode Three- Diary Of A Teenage Girl

EPISODE THREE

However I got home, I do not know but I am glad I am safe. I look at the clock, it is half past eleven. I rubbed my temples to make the pains in my head go away but that did not help. I stand on my feet, take slow steady steps towards the kitchen to find something to make my pains go away. I see my father on the floor. I am confused. So many questions I want to ask but I am here thinking it is not the right moment. I bend to touch him to make sure he is alive but he doesn’t move. I am scared. I remember scenes from grey’s anatomy and how fast the doctors do their stuff. I am here thinking I can be the hero but I am confused as hell, I have no idea what to do.

‘‘Dad? Are you okay?” I slap myself for asking such stupid question. Hell no! He is obviously not okay. I watch his body in shock and at some point I find myself running towards the door to get help.

‘‘John! David!’’ I yell the driver and the gateman’s name. I am still running to find them. I find John first, I am out of breath as I said ‘‘my dad is on the FLOOR!” I yelled the last word so he would understand the gravity of what I am saying. ‘‘help me’’ I started crying. He took my hand as we both ran back inside.

Ten minutes later, we are in the hospital. Where my mother is. I am standing in the hallway thinking of what happened. My detective mood switched on immediately, why was he on the floor? Who came in? Where was David and John?

‘‘I can’t lose both of them’’ I said to myself ‘‘Mo, Be strong’’ I laugh out loud. Where did that thought come?  How on earth will I be strong without my parents? Where am I to find strength? My eyes immediately becomes teary but just before the first drop could let loose, the doctor calls for me. I stand and rub my sweaty palms on my jean as I walk towards him.

“Mo, I know you are currently going through a lot but this time you have to be stronger than ever. Your dad is dead. He was dead on arrival….” I feel his hands on my shoulder as I pass out. I see myself in another world with my dad and mum just the way we were just before the whole cancer thing. Happy. We were watching miracles from heaven as I give my mum the tissue box to wipe her tears.

I woke up to my mother’s cry. I look at her and wonder how someone can cry and not scatter everywhere at the news of her husband’s death. In my zoned out state, I was thinking of how strong my mother is then I remembered she doesn’t have a choice with me on the bed. The least she can do is pretend to be strong, not for her but for me.

“Oh Mo, what are we going to do?” she says as tears roll down her face. I am still wondering, how can a healthy man die? I feel another set of hot tears rolling down my face as I looked at my mother crying quietly. I want to help her out. I want to tell her that it is okay to break things that it is okay to roll on the floor, that is okay to be all over the face because she just lost her husband but I knew that won’t bring him back. I just hugged her long enough to know that I am here for her.

 

 

Boluwatife Ayinde
Boluwatife is an Editorial Assistant at Kamdora. Ever since she discovered her passion for writing at a young age, she has developed her skill by writing for renowned websites. She recently developed a passion for fashion and has since been using her talent wisely! Tife blogs about her personal style and offers guides to making life better for the average Nigerian girl!

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