break-wine-glass

Shattered glass. Splattered blood. Piercing screams.

 

I ran to my room, where I shut my eyes and covered my ears, to wash away the image, to drown out the sounds, but it was all in vain.
Things had seemed fine that morning, we had all eaten breakfast together. Then I had pestered daddy to take me to the beach, he finally gave in and said we would leave in the evening. Mummy had smiled at us.

I wondered if it was my fault, but thankfully, guilt could not have my conscience for lunch, as I was certain I had done nothing wrong. I was not even there when it started, It was the noise that drew me.

I started to pull off my t-shirt and jeans, wiping the tears that clung to my lashes. I did not think we will still be making the trip to the beach. I unlocked the door to my house and entered, I briefly glanced at sitting room I was so used to and headed to my room, I had gotten off some hours early from work and I wanted to get to sleep before my siblings came with their noise.

I put on the air conditioner and wriggled under my duvet. When I woke up, my little brother was on the bed with me, playing a game on my phone. He caught my eyes and smiled.

“Tumi, I’m hungry.”

I groaned ” can’t you even say hi, or give me a hug, all you know is food.”

“Eww.”

I hissed and turned over, I would cook for him, just not yet, soon my two sisters trooped into my room, by some unspoken rule, my room was the meeting place, and it irked me because, they never left the room the way they find it, and I was always left alone to deal with it, while they returned to their neat, untouched rooms. My younger sister, Tinu, was giving me a daily dose of school gist, while the other, Nike, nodded in affirmation. It was getting interesting when I heard my father utter a swear word. Mother also gave another in reply as, quiet fell upon the room.

“So, as I was saying….”, Tinu continued after a while.

She continued ranting on, but I could not hear a word. All I could hear were my parents voices, as they traded insults, curses and swear words back and forth. I glanced at my siblings; my brother was still playing his game, and the rest were still feeding me information, as though nothing was happening. I wondered how I could do that; I wished I was as strong as they were, but instead, my heartbeat was progressively increasing and while tension was having a field day in my heart. It angered me, they angered me. They did not know its effect on me, physically, emotionally and socially. I just broke up with Dayo a few days ago, and I knew it was linked to their fights. I could not imagine letting my children having to go through what I was going through and so when Dayo raised his voice in anger at me, I had simply walked out of his apartment and sent him a text that it was over. He was my first and now I’m stark scared of going into another relationship.

Comments

comments


9 thoughts on “Shattered glass. Splattered blood. Piercing screams.” by Olan (@Olan)

  1. Profile photo of sylvia
    sylvia (@sylvia): Scribe - 11552 pts

    well…i didn’t get the gist
    i feel the word ‘i’ was used too often, plus there were some grammatical errors…tenses..
    You should go back to the drawing board and make this better.

    Keep writing!

  2. Profile photo of Olan
    Olan (@Olan): Scribe - 15387 pts

    This wasn’t actually the story, Network wahala, I guess. A whole scene got deleted. I tried to delete it but I couldn’t. I’m kinda new to naija stories. Lol.

  3. Profile photo of Eletrika
    Eletrika (@babyada): Wordsmith - 36476 pts

    I hope the story hasn’t finished yet?

    Good one. And, welcome to the site.

  4. Profile photo of nida
    nida (@nida): Newbie - 390 pts

    nice

  5. Profile photo of innoalifa
    innoalifa (@innoalifa): Head Wordsmith - 112386 pts

    @Olan … a simply lucid piece…

  6. Profile photo of shadiat
    shadiat (@shadiat): Writer - 8706 pts

    Hope to see the complete story soon then.

  7. Profile photo of Olan
    Olan (@Olan): Scribe - 15387 pts

    Thanks, I appreciate your comments and criticisms,

  8. Profile photo of Jaywriter
    Jaywriter (@jaywriter): Junior Writer - 1809 pts

    I loved the story. Had some of that experience growing up so I can relate well to it.

    The writing wasn’t too very good though. But you’ve already some stuff got muddled up so I guess that’s let’s you off the hook.

    Keep writing.

    1. Profile photo of Olan
      Olan (@Olan): Scribe - 15387 pts

      @Jaywriter; thank you

Leave a Reply