By Jessica-Ken:

 The day was almost ending and Lucille was still yet to be back. Her parents were worried that something bad had happened to their daughter, but they wanted not to believe the voice that was telling them it was so. Tricia paced restlessly, countless beads of sweat rolling down her face, as she felt miserable wondering where her daughter could be. “Oh, God! Please bring my daughter home safe.” she prayed, eyes focused on the wall clock in the living room, as her husband comforted. He hadn’t given up still. He knew their daughter was going to come walking through the door any minute—and as he thought—so she did.
 “Lucille!” Tricia screamed in delight, forgetting all about the anger and fear she felt. Lucille’s never done this before. Where could she have gone?
  The MacKennys were happy that their daughter was finally home—but what they didn’t know was that she had a story to tell.


 Dear Diary,
  Today has been awful; really, really awful (sigh). Mom and Dad have no idea what’d happened to me, and there’s no how they’ll get to know because I am not ready to tell. The dizziness’ stopped, thank God! But then my head hurts so much, like it’s being hit multiple times with a Mjöllnir, which, by the way, can also be called Thor’s hammer.
 This is lame, Lucille exhaled. This is really lame! She stopped writing, feeling completely out of mood. She couldn’t figure out how she had ended up in the woods—or anywhere—and what the weird dream she had was trying to tell her. She needed a reasonable explanation for all that went on, and was eager to know what could have led to her fainting.
Oh, quit worrying, Lucille. You’re all fine now, she told herself and forced a smile.
 Lucille knew her problem would never end, but she assured herself that things were going to be better.
 Better—she smiled happily at the thought as teardrops fell freely onto her cheeks.
Anita came to visit that night, and was told of how Lucille had gone missing earlier that day, with her being her usual self; the mean girl who cared not about anything that had to do with a loser of a sister, pretending to listen while her mother went on.
 “Are you even listening to me?” Mrs MacKenny called to her daughter’s attention.
 “Mom, she’s home. Can we now stop worrying about her?” Nita spoke as she admired her newly painted nails.
 “How could you say that?” her mum scolded. Her daughter’s attitude was really getting out of hand. Why wouldn’t she just be the perfect daughter she’s always wanted? “Anita,” called Anita’s Mum. “Can you just stop hating on your sister?”
Anita gave her an angry stare. “Why will I stop hating on the girl that almost ruined my life?”
Seeing how furious the question made the hostile lady, who looked no different from the person she knew, Mrs MacKenny placed warm hands on her daughter’s and caressed them so they could feel at ease. “My dear,” she started calmly. “I know you’re mad at us for not giving you the proper attention—”
  “I’m not mad at you guys,” Nita interrupted.
 “Just listen.” her mother hushed. “I know you’re mad, and obviously hate us,” she paused to see if she had got her to listen, then continued, “But Lucille’s your sister.” she hammered on the last word. “Your flesh and blood!” she waited for the words to sink to the bottommost part of Nita’s heart before she could continue.
 “But mom…”
 “I feel it would be better not to see you two fighting. I-it break-s m-my heart.” It appeared her mom was weeping, as her voice trembled.
 “Mom, please,” Anita felt sorry seeing her Mom in such state, and she got up to embrace her. “Mom. Mom, please don’t cry,” she said, “You’re hurting me.” it was emotional seeing mother and daughter in tears.
 Anita promised to be good to her sister and to treat her right from that day on.
“Mom thinks she can stop me from hating Lu,” Anita snickered as she walked into Lucille’s room. “I’ll show her I’m her mother’s daughter!” she laughed sinisterly and made toward Lucille’s side.
Lucille knew not what Anita had in mind. She stood up on seeing her, swiftly moving across the room as her sister followed.
Oh, what does she want now? Her mind spoke as she bowed her head.
“Look at me!” ordered Anita in a low tone, two of her fingers raising Lucille’s chin.
Lucille snatched her chin away and slipped out from under her as Anita grabbed her hair and pulled her to the floor.
“That’ll teach you a lesson… bitch.” She completed with a hateful glance.
Mrs MacKenny’s voice rolled in at that minute, and Anita put on a maniacal smile, looking down at her sister, as she signalled to her to remain quiet. “Not a word.” she said and left to answer their mother.
Lucille wept on the floor, bitter tears flowing into still, wet palms, as legs remained paralysed from the shock. She couldn’t figure out how her sister could be so heartless, and was crushed to know she was always going to be the same.
I have had enough of you, Anita! You ask for war, I give you! Her fists tightened as she gritted her teeth.


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A student of the popular Nnamdi Azikiwe university. A Human Anatomy stud—and a passionate writer, with the hope of one day making the world a better place.
~Authoress Ciara

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