Living with a God

'I am the deepest introvert ever. And when I say 'the deepest', I mean the deepest type ever. I don't have friends,  I hate making one. I can't even associate with people. I guess this is a trauma from what I experienced from my stepmother. The only friend I can say I have is my roommate, but you can't really call her a friend. She is like the biggest snub ever.

      The only sentence she had ever said to me was, 'Hello, I am Mila and I am your new roommate.' That was it. And I thought it was very formal. But what do I,  the biggest wallflower know about formality and informality?

      I am never at ease with not only strangers but everyone and... everything! I can't even look people in the eyes because when I do, they say I stare too much and scold me for it. 'You are being disrespectful!' They say. But there are some that pretend not to notice and just ignore me. I call that disrespectful!

      Now less about me, let's move on to my parent. My stepmother, my enemy after the devil is the worst person you had ever wished to meet. She HATES me so much and likewise me. We both have that mutual understanding. 

      What about my biological mother? My mother died when I was fourteen.  I was in Junior Secondary School Three then and it was one of the worst days of my life. My second worst, I would love to keep that a secret.

      The death of my mother made my father so depressed it gave him health issues,  he was close to dying.

      I was so scared. I just lost my mum, I didn't want to lose my dad too. I didn't want to be an orphan, the thought of that frightened me. I could begin to imagine the dreadful things that would occur in my life if that happened.  I was a second close to getting into a depression as well.

      I have read stories, and I know the lives of orphans aren't rosy at all. It is probably the worst thing that could happen life. This is my preference though as Mila thinks otherwise.

      I know I said being an orphan is the worst. Well... it is, but I rather be an orphan than have a stepmother. 

      In Disney stories and some others, stepmothers can be your very nightmare.  But then, I have also seen some stepmothers who were very nice to their stepkids. I thought mine would be the same. And it was... at first.

      Am I forgetting something... Oh, my name is Lola by the way and I used to be a very kind-hearted girl.  Note; 'Used to'.

      When my mum died,  my dad was very sad, he actually fell into a coma. This was very unbelievable on my part and I wondered how he could love her that much but forget about me, his daughter.

      My dad remained in the state of half dead, half alive for two whole weeks. Those weeks were dreadful.  I had families and friends come to greet and console me. 'Don't worry, your dad will be fine and your mum is in a better place. It will all be okay?' They told me.

      I looked into the faces of the families I rarely or never met. 'You will be fine.' They kept on saying the words that still make my ears bleed today.

      It was never okay and I will never be fine. Not in this world and definitely not in that hereafter.

      When my dad finally woke up from his deep slumber, he acted like he was a living dead. I reasoned he needed another woman in his life and I needed another mother. I told my father to get another wife, no, I begged for it.

      And my dad who loves to make his mother happy agreed to my request.  He got married to my mow stepmother- Olivia. They had both narrated back then that they used to be College friends. Olivia was also a single mum with two daughters,  Maria and Maya. Maria is the older one whilst Maya and I are agemates.

      Olivia was nice to me for the first few months, I loved her. But then suddenly,  she changed. She sent me away from my big room upstairs to the store room on the ground floor.  The store room which is now my room is the worst room ever. You could mistake it for a toilet, only it was slightly bigger and neater, with no toilet, sink or bathtub of course.

      The room is very rough, not my fault though.  I had to store all my stuff, the little ones out of the lot I had in the small room. The room is a very dark one with no window and a lightbulb.

      The only source of light I managed was the one I brought with the money my dad gave to me before he travelled abroad. And we all know the issue with Nigeria's electricity.  You have to beg the ones in charge like gods before we have the right to electricity.  So, I mostly slept in the dark. This made pests have their way in my room.

      I think Olivia's hostility kind of got into my head that it made me think I could conserve with these animals. I have had them sleep with me for years and I talk and share my thoughts with them,  the way I should do to humans.

      Sometimes,  I'd be like, 'Tom,  those are my books,  get away from them.' To a rat that was chewing away my notes.

      And sometimes, 'Jerry,  would you stop disturbing Tom? Do you think this is some cartoon?'

      'Priscilla' stop singing love song in my ears!' That I'd say to a mosquito.  And I'd giggle silly at my behaviour.  I know what you are thinking, but this was all just for fun to scare Olivia because Priscilla can't suck on me anymore.  I'm immune!

      Though Olivia hates me, she had once taken me to a psychologist to check if I was okay. She said she didn't want to keep a 'were' in her home.

      Call me weird I wouldn't deny it, I also think so. I think I would win the award of the weirdest person ever. I hope they give one out.

      Maria and Maya are also thorns in the skin. They made life a hell for me and I couldn't even stand up for myself. I'm trying to think of a way to teach them a lesson. The maltreatment is just too much.

      I hate staying at home. The school is the one place I am comfortable in; that I mean my hostel, in my room, on my bed.

      Holidays are also things I despise. It means going home and thus is one of the times. We are fast approaching the examination period.  Then after the exams is the school vacation. The examination would start in a few weeks and I am already dreading it.

      I sluggishly drag myself from the bed from the loud horn. I have never really gotten used to this sound used as an alarm. Groaning, I sit up roughly whilst cursing at the person who came up with the idea to wake us up that way.

      My eyes dart around the room and to my roommate who is still lying on her bed on the other side of the room. I didn't even bother to wake her up, she is always like that.

      Once, I tried to be a nice roommate and talk to her when she was very moody. I was very embarrassed at the outcome.

      Mila became my roommate in the third term of Junior Secondary School Three. Apart from her first introduction,  we never talked about anything, I repeat anything. 

      I was cool with it for a while but then I got tired. I get we were both shy and introverts but come on! We were together in the same room and not even the simplest conversation of 'hi' was said between us. I decided to try to talk to her, maybe she was a very shy person, even more than me, I'd thought.

      I hatched my plan carefully whilst patiently waiting for the right time. I memorised all of her classes and free periods by heart. And then on one Thursday evening, after our daily activities,  she was extremely moody. She had her head buried between her knees as she sat on the bed.

      I sat on my reading table in my corner of the room and stared at her cautiously.