***
Days crawled past. But my grief remained. Nothing could take away the rawness I felt inside, as though it happened only yesterday. Barely twenty four hours after it happened, news spread that my stepmother had taken Cynthia's body from the morgue and had buried her in secret.
My indifference to the news had caused people to rumor pointless things about me. Most people believed I didn't care about my family, and had abandoned my grieving stepmother at a time she needed me the most.
Although no one else would admit this, I was a curse. Everyone I loved and deeply cherished got hurt. They didn't just get hurt, they died.
It was hard to believe my sister would never come back. Each day, I'd awaken, hoping the tragedy was all a dream, and she would return. I'd fool myself for a moment too long, only to explode into grief when I realized she would never come back. I would never get to see her again.
I lay in the bed I shared with Sharon, refusing to eat or drink. I'd been torturing myself ever since the day of Cynthia's death. I'd spent six days locked up in my grief.
I was a plague, and for this, I isolated myself from everyone who seemed to care. I didn't want their comfort, nor love, because I'd love them in return, and then they would leave me someday. I was destined to be alone.
Even when a swarm of comforters came over, I saw nothing but an empty room. And when they sought to console me with colorful words, I heard nothing but the silent scream of grief.
I rolled over and buried my face in a tear-soaked pillow. A silent scream tore through my quivering lips. I'd never felt so alone in my life. Not even when father died. Because, back then, I had my stepmother and...Cynthia.
The sound of footsteps approaching told me to prepare for company. I wiped my tears with the back of my hand.
"Have you been crying again?" Vicky asked.
I faked a smile and raised myself to sit. "I'm good."
"Mummy says it's not good to cry too much," she said. "It doesn't change anything. What's happened has happened. But that's just what she says."
"And what do you say?" I asked.
"If you don't cry, you'll just be trapping in all the pain," she said. I could tell it was a quote from somewhere. Or could a seven year old be this wise already? "Do you know what I did when I lost Tommy?"
Her question knocked me off balance. Tommy? Had she lost a brother?
"I cried," she said.
Although I didn't know who Tommy was, I could relate to her grief. "I'm sorry about Tommy."
"I got over him," she said. "Mum got me a new Tommy."
And then it clicked. Tommy. A teddy bear almost as tall as her.
"When you lose something, it comes back in another form."
Stunned by the point she'd just made, I gaped at her. It amazed me how she had already befriended logic at such young age. I wished I could share her positivity.
"This isn't Fiction," I said. "This is real life, a city of broken dreams."
She scratched her neck. "What?"
"Don't mind me," I said.
"Breakfast is ready," she said. "Everyone's at the table. We're waiting for you to join us."
For days now, they'd been trying to get me to blend into their family, just like I had before. But why would I want to ruin their day with my cursed presence. Ill fate followed me wherever I went, hurting the people that mattered to me.
Vicky stood at akimbo. "I won't take no for an answer."
"Please, just tell them I'm not hungry." Although I hadn't eaten for a whole day, the lump of grief in my stomach made it impossible to think of food.
"Maybe you're not hungry, but I am starving." She tugged at my arm. "Please? They said if I don't come back with you, then they won't let me eat. Please, please. I'm starving."
How could these people blackmail me into eating? Would they really starve Vicky if I didn't show up? Her stomach rumbled, speeding up my decision making process.
"Let's go eat," I said.
Hopping her way to the dining, she led the way. She slid onto her seat, completing the perfect family picture. A dark cloud made to settle over me as my thoughts lingered on how happy and complete they looked.
I eyed the empty seat beside Bolaji. He'd returned home yesterday and had come to say a quick hello. Tentatively, I advanced to the seat and lowered myself onto it.
"Good morning," I muttered to everyone without looking at them.
"Good morning," they chorused.
I stared at the meal set before me. Bread, omelet and tea. One way or another, I would have to stuff them inside my mouth.
Half-way into my meal, I could still feel multiple pairs of eyes boring into me from every angle. Although I fixated my gaze on my plate, I could tell the look in their eyes; the painfully soft look as though they were staring at a dying animal.
Their eyes burned into me as I sipped my tea. It seemed as though they'd all stopped eating, for I could only hear the sound of my slurping.
Sir Aaron cleared his throat. "Victoria." Only after I'd raised my face to look at him did he continue. "I understand the past few days have been-"
My eyes misted over, forcing me to look away. Did they not know that talking about my loss only made it worse?
"I'm fine," I said. I hoped my voice didn't betray me. Once again, I dragged my gaze to meet Sir Aaron's. His eyes told me he could see right through me.
"You've been in that room for days," he said. "Any more of this and you'll break. Which is why I want us to go out. Maybe have a stroll, or go shopping."
"I don't want to go shopping," I said.
"Then a stroll it is," he said.
"Actually, sir, what I mean is I already have plans for today. Raheem and I are going out. He also thinks it's best to step out for an hour or two."
Mrs. Aaron's lips stretched into a smile. "I don't know if I've said this before, but I really admire that kid. He's always here for her. I can't thank him enough."
I hated to lie to them. But if I told them the truth, they wouldn't let me go where I was headed. At least not alone. I'd forgotten mum's letter underneath my pillow at home. And I had to go retrieve it from the witch's lair.
Subtly, I tapped my foot underneath the table as I awaited my ringing phone.
And then, it rang.
Pulling away from the table, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. "It's Raheem."
I hastened toward the room and turned off the alarm I'd set just before coming for breakfast. I returned to the dining only after a minute had sailed past. "I have to go. He says to meet him up."
I turned toward the exit, hoping to escape before someone hauled a question at me. But I wasn't fast enough to avoid Bolaji's question. "Why would he ask you to meet up somewhere? Does he have a problem with coming here?"
"What?" I asked. I'd thought situations like this were only reserved for people who had elder brothers. Or had I accidentally gotten myself one?
"I just thought in your condition he would come pick you up," the elder-brother figure said. "Or isn't that how it's done, dad?"
I didn't give Sir Aaron a chance to speak. "I'm sure Raheem has his reasons. I have to go now."
Without another word, I made my escape.