My Racist(completed)..undergoing some editing

chapter 6

Some prayed for help while.
Some wished for death.
-Pompeii.

Selami.

I made sure to reach home twenty minutes earlier than the closing time, I didn't want the incident to repeat itself again.I had to sacrifice skipping the glass house.

I sat on my bed with a large cashmiere sweater and white shorts , chewing the lead of my pencil as I kept on trying to come up with a design for the fashion competition.I battled and tore my sketch pad with anger at my ruined design, my fingers hurter a lot as I tried to draw but I blocked out the pain thinking of ideas that would blow the judges ,especially oliver away.

I ended up with only one good drawing and that was the picture of his eyes-cold,fearless but blue.

I told my first lie to Charlotte when I said that this competition meant nothing to me, it would finally prove to my father that I was something and not just a useless load .

I learnt how to draw on my own, it really suprised me how I seemed to capture strange images in my head and put them down on paper.

I discovered my talent when I arrived home from school awaiting a letter from my father like my aunt had promised,I was too excited that I didn't bother to change my worn out uniform. This would be the first time I received one from hymn and I waited for it, even If I had to starve while waiting.

I would do it .

I finally gave up hope when I slept outside, waking up to the sound of my aunt sweeping and singing.I stood up quietly,picking up the torn bag which held my books and I silently ran to the back of the house not allowing her to see me.I saw something glinting near the gutter, curiosity got the best of me as I bent down to pick it up.

It looked strange and familiar, having only a pointed tip and a very slim and straight structure which could be easily mistaken for a pen.

it's a pencil.

I ran my fingers on the object and dried the wet end with my uniform skirt. I felt an unexplainable peace wash over me as I held its tiny frame tightly in my palm. I Walked back to my bag, lieing on the ground were I stood before.

I searched for something but I didn't know what it was until I opened my note book and tore a sheet of paper out ,I sat on an empty stool placing the paper against my note book and closed my eyes, thinking of my worst memory and it appeared before my eyes like a film.

It was my seventh birthday. My aunt had promised that my father would come to take I and my sister with him.

Yes! I had a sister who was raped to death six years ago.

I was dressed in the clothes my aunt bought for me,all I and my sisters belongings were all packed in a torn carton. He arrived earlier than I thought he would,dressed in red shorts, a black t-shirt and white shoes which pot rayed his lean figure and strong arms-my papa was so handsome,no man could ever be compared to him.

He ignored my greeting and went straight to my auntie and talked with her for sometime. He didn't stay long which made me happy that I would leave right away.

I carried my baby sister with one hard holding the carton of clothes in the other as I walked behind him as he left the house ,heabout to open the door of his car then he stopped and looked down at me.

"Who are you ? and what are you?," He asked breathlessly.

"Daddy," His face stung when he heard that name. " Its selami. " I smiled coming close to him.

He pushed me back making me fall on the ground, with my sister landing on top of me. He didn't look back or apologize, he just slammed the door on my face and drove off.