A walk on thorns

Chapter 4| It's Not My Fault

Sabrina’s POV

Something is wrong with this woman in one way or the other, I know we aren't the ones who get along great all the time but it had never been this sour and brutal. She has scaled up to a greater extent today, beyond my comprehension. What makes her so bitter and corrupted to the stage that she would accuse me of being a lesbian? It hurt me badly but I refused to react in anger, especially in front of  Rubina, it was undeniably wrong.

It has been three years since I saw her last and she has changed a lot, I did not expect to see her in the same way but at first glance, I knew something was wrong with her aura. And she never blurted the way she did earlier. Not even in the slightest. Mama has always made it a tradition to compare us, especially our level of forbearance but I couldn't believe that today I was the one who walked away from the violence that Anisha instigated.

I once heard that pregnant women act a certain way, especially during their first trimester and Anisha doesn't look pregnant but you never know until it comes out. A part of me also accentuates that something is wrong between her and Ya Mukhtar and she is very protective of it. I got it from the way she shades it on a lighter note, but still, I am not sure what was wrong. But one thing I am sure of is that I won’t come out of the room from now till morning unless she comes in and apologizes because I can't get blasted that way in less than an hour of my arrival. Call me stubborn but it is what it is.

I finished my lunch on my study table and kept the plate there, I am not going out as I said. I prayed Asr and began to unpack my trolleys into the wardrobe After that I brought out my novels and arranged them accordingly on the bookshelf, my bags on a bag hanger, my shoes on the shoe rack, my perfumes and a few make-up on the dressing mirror.  The room gave me the impression of my room in Kaduna and I am happy with that. I was so tired when I was done and I decided to take a siesta.

It is better than floundering in vexation because I won’t give them what they hope for, not even in my nastiest dreams. I get up and take out my camera from my handbag. I marveled at it for a while before putting it back. These people are not serious, they should hurriedly get a life.

With that thought, I fell into the fluffy bed that was scented by Bakhoor and dozed off.

Anisha’s POV

It has been three hours since our smarting encounter with Sabrina,  I know I was wrong and I want to apologize but I know her well enough to swear that she locked the door on herself. That is who she used to be ever since. But still trying is better than not attempting As for now she is my responsibility, had it been we were at home I wouldn't cared or paid heed to her reaction at all.

I went further and tried my luck and it worked. Sabrina did not lock the door on herself. This girl must have evolved, leaving me with old memories from the past, first of all, she walked away from a fight and now she didn't lock the door. Outstanding!

She was laying down on her bed, sleeping peacefully so I decided to sit down next to her. I don't know how many minutes I spent watching her, it was just three years but she has transformed into a beautiful young lady who is a carbon copy of her mother that they never get along great.

The lustered caramel skin, the big eyes full of lashes, the black silky hair, the straight nose, and the tiny pink lips, just everything that describes a typical Chadian woman, Sabrina is Mama's mini version when it comes to look, as for me I am the combination of my both parents, I have Mama's eyes just like Sabrina and Baba's typical Fulani's skin which is a bit fairer than them, my face is adorn, as I will like to believe before with few dots of freckles under my eyes. We both have Mama’s figure, curvy but not unduly chubby.

“When you are ready to talk wake me up but please don’t stare like that,” Sabrina said with her eyes closed, I almost ran away.

“How do you even know I am staring? I asked shockingly.