Gone Bad (Nigerian Novel) -Editing

Chapter 32 : Walking Dead

I run my hands along the necklace, savouring the cool silver on my neck.

A simple cross neckless littered with rhinstones on the pendant, to some it was a fashion statement but for me it symbolised the only way of life I had known.

Or at least I thought I did.

My family was christian, I claimed to be one, yet Demilade's faith claim to Christianity looked so stark in comparison.

Like putting wood beside bronze, similar but not the same.

The clock tells me it's time to go but I'm still looking at the mirror.

Yesterday had been awful, I thought pouring my heart would've made me feel better but it turned out to be a boomerang and I was left bruising.

To my surprise no one had said a word to me that night Mom told Dad, I think the silence spoke more volumes.

I was another dissapointment beyond repair.

"Come down we're leaving." mummy says tersely, purposely omitting my name for a proper adfress.

Everything in me wanted to run away and hide in the dark corners built in my mind. Yet instead I grab a hoodie last minute and slip down the stairs.

How I hated church. And dreaded even more seeing Demilade's face after the kiss.

..............................

After hiding in the back with the chairs I edge closer to the seats now that all the front rows had been occupied.

My place in the last row was lonely but I liked it all the same, it mirrored how I felt.

Repentance. Hell. Sin. Salvation.

My ears burned and I snuck on my old earpiece so I could drown out the preacher.

Guilt and anger fought for dominance in my mind all through service and I was just about ready to bolt when I'm compromised.

The pastor had asked us to greet our neighbors, and for some reason Demilade had chosen to shake hands with a boy behind him.

I look away hoping he hadn't seen me and the hoodie made my face unrecognizable enough.

Ditching the pleasantries I stick my phone in my pocket and leave the hall quietly.

"Hey."

"Blood of-" I yell, turning to look at the nervous boy who had come out of nowhere.

"Sorry, but you can take off that costume now -I know it's you." Demilade says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Frankly insulted, I stare at my knee length dress and hoodie over it.

Sure it was a bit tacky the way the skirt flared below the old grey covering, but my ego bruised nonetheless.

"Don't be so rude." I mutter yanking the hoodie off.

"You call honesty being rude?" he says, humour dancing in his voice.

I sigh, looking back at the path ahead of me. "My parents will be here soon, is there anything you want?"

"Wait are you okay." he asks taking in my darker than usual eyebags, and croaky voice that had been emphasized by my longer sentence.

Nodding I try to set his nerves at ease.

"If it's about the kiss then you know-" Demilade begins, a troubled expression making him look more adorable with furrowed brows and a slight pout.

"-I just don't want to be here, you don't have to worry about the kiss." I say accidentally hitting a sensitive spot in an attempt to divert the conversation.