𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

93°/ A fine Line between Reality and Illusions II...

Sorry for not updating the day I was supposed to. Sorry for stalling on updates these days in fact. It's just that its very hard from where I am to be consistent, but I am trying. Even if its once every month or twice in a month, I'll try to be keeping the updates more steady from now on. Lemme make it a promise.

The only thing stalling TMBT updates is the chapter I keep dividing because of length, but oh well, the more the merrier, abi? We dey here. After this, I will start the official countdown for the end of the book. I started it before and stopped since I kept dividing many chapters, but Omoh, this first book is nearing its end closer and closer with every update, but with the countdown, we will be able to anticipate all that comes with ending of Too Many Broken Things Book One! Yay!

The Song for this Chapter is Cradles by Suburban, and the video/song is in the Media above! {The Song is in the Media above}

And, Omoh, I cannot wait to see your reactions to this one. This is one of the chapters I have been itching to write for a Long, Long time! But, Omoh, we are almost done with the first book of TMBT o, having we are approaching the ending scenes that are major choking highlights, lol. Anyways, from now, till the end of this book, be at alert, because everything is going to start escalating to its worst, but damn it, I am living for the incoming and ULTIMATE chaos that marks the end of Too Many Broken Things Book One!

Are you?

~DABI~

The few seconds that I stood there, watching and reading the room, after Casper's revelation was the worst torture that I had had to go through yet.

And, no, it was not just what he had told me.

It wasn't just what he had just said about his Mum having something to do with my Mum and Stephen, and where they had been all these while. It was everything else, especially the ridiculous absurdities he spewed concerning where we both lived.

Ridiculous nonsenses.

Nothing has ever been wrong with where we lived.

Or at least, not the way Casper explained it.

Our street was surrounded with vibrant neighborhoods and no Honda Cars paid any special visits. No one dropped any 'black bags' in any garages. And there was no secret stash either. It was just my abusive devil of Father and his wicked mistress, Delilah, who paraded the house in a red dress, blood coloured bright lip-stick, pale light skin, and long witch-like nails, co-torturing his house, along with him.

That's how it had been for Years.

That's how it had always been since Stephen and I turned seven.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.—

"Dabeluchi."

Silence.

There was a silence that suddenly ensued.

I heard my name, and afterwards, there was the oddest silence ever.

And, no, it wasn't the one that had been broodingly lingering all around the room for what seemed like an eternity; it was rather one within me, one that shut down the resonant, distorted voices that had been replaying like broken mixed tapes in my head.