I could hear sobbs, feel tear drops that weren’t mine on my rough skin, a warm hand squeezing mine as I lay helplessly. My body, ached badly down to my bones like it’d rained bricks on me. I tried to open my eyes slowly but they hurt, I shut them and opened again, well at least I could get a view of whoever it was kneeling next to me, “oh thank goodness! You’re alive.” She said squeezing my hand in her palms, I loved the comfort of it. Looking around in a fleet manner and unable to remember what led to my lying on the ground, the bruises on my skin or why my body hurt badly images of my freinds fleeing and Giant figures approaching crept my mind in someway.
” what happened to you son? Are you hurt? ” mom queried wiping the dirt and grass off my body as I struggled to sit up. I had not a clue what exactly had ensued between my freinds and the attackers and i wasn’t surprised anyway, getting into trouble was normal to every street boy’s existence yet I was thankful this guy and his squad didn’t shove the bullets up my head for whatever reason. I looked up at my mom, she’d gone quite darker than before, thin with red, swollen eyes from releasing too much tear drops than they could hold making me wonder why women were always so sobber, her hair was tied up in a scarf.
She tried to wipe her wet cheeks realising I was staring at her but the tears kept pouring faster. A part of me wondered if perhaps she was right about my life earlier, it was no good.I hadn’t seen her smile in a while, a long while.
Guilt, pity, sympathy beclouded my mind even in my furtiveness. I felt stupid, ashamed for her to see me this way.
She was crying for my sake, how she managed to find me here again I had not an idea, but she was here, for my safety even when I screamed at her, stole from her, even when I went wild. I knew I’d put her through a lot, sometimes I wanted to show how sorry, how guilty and feeble i was. I wanted to cry and pour out my heart to someone, anyone..to her but I couldn’t bring myself to say the word “sorry”, that word seemed to render me submissive, weak , it sent cold shivers down my spine, I wasn’t a fan of it.
” let’s go home mum..” I spoke, my way of saying I was sorry
Written by Martha
Directed by Godwin Alechenu
Powered by foga timothy (Mr tourism Benue zone b)
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