Late Eighteen

30| Chapter thirty

This chapter mainly comprises of Ezekiel's life experience.

Moral lesson: Don't be too quick to judge. Everyone has their own story to tell, and that story transpires in how they live their lives.

P. S. This is one of my best chapters yet.

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Ezekiel's POV (Point of view)

Mum hadn't always been like this you know.

Two years ago, she never had cancer . . . Or so I thought, and she certainly wasn't hooked up to a life supporting machine.

Two years ago, when things were still normal and balanced like I hope they were now, we used to live just like one- my mum, dad and I. Once upon a time, we would travel round the country just to watch the sun set and crickets crick.

Dad would take his annual two months leave from work every year like he had always done just to stay with us- just the three of us. Mum, like the amazing cook that she was, would cook loads upon loads of food to take on our trip.

We never finished eating any of them . . . Just like every other year. At the end of the day, to prevent waste, mum would pack them in disposable containers for distribution purposes.

She had always been a kind woman, an hero to all and a big time role model to others . . . Until life decided to place its disgusting claws on her.

I guess she paid too much time on others that she forgot to do the same for herself. She had always been like that- looking out to help other people, and in the process, forgetting to take care of her self.

We never thought we'd face any problems, because through the happiness and solace we had in out family, we never imagined that things would go sideways.

Dad met mum when he was getting his masters degree in Sierra Leone, mum was also fortunate to had gotten a scholarship there for her master's too. Dad was twenty five and mum was just twenty two or so.

They were so young and presumably so in love.

They got engaged three years later, then mum was barely above twenty five and dad was approaching twenty nine. Somehow, they resided to the US a year later, got married and had me the following year.

All before their early thirties.

According to the little I was told, the family of both parties involved weren't in support of the marriage . . . Dad was just about picking up the beginnings of his life, and they claimed mum was too independent for a burnt just concluded college masters degree holder.

Dad didn't tell me the reason for their relocation abroad, but I had a hunch it had something to do with their families and their relationship in general.

Wasn't that supposed to serve as a motivational to the both of them?

Well, guess what, it didn't.

Twelve years after they had me, i.e thirteen years after their marriage, mum and dad began to have problems. We were still living in the US when their marriage began to go downhill, I was so young that I couldn't understand anything.

What I remembered was that, every night, mum and dad would argue and argue like there was no tomorrow. Dad would yell and yell, and mum would scream and scream that the whole of US would hear them.