Chapter 11

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This Chapter is anything but boring. However, it does contain violence. If you're not comfortable with violence, please after Lucky and Abel's moment, skip the rest of the chapter.

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Abel


     Abel twirled his wrist, It didn't hurt but he felt discomfort in it, he wondered if that would fade. Lifting his gaze, he peered at the bald old man who was discarding the previously used gauze whilst softly humming a gospel song to himself.

"So, your wrist is all good, however... " The man was now facing his patient, he took off his spectacles and cleaned it with his lab coat.

Is that even sanitary...?

"You will be experiencing mild discomfort in that wrist for a small amount of time." The old man continued.

"How long?" Mark Ejiofor, who had been sitting in a corner of the room queried.

"Hmmm... about a few months." The Doctor put on his glasses and pushed it to the bridge of his nose, Abel thought it made him look like a joke.

"Roughly six months..." He added.

"Ehn?!" Mark replied in shock.

"Yes, mildly though..."

"I thought the wrist wasn't broken anymore. You said six weeks of recovery, after five weeks you took of the cast. Now you're saying he'll be in pain for the next six months!?" Abel's uncle angrily let out.

"Look, sir..." The Doctor folded his arms. "Any damage you do to your body, whether it is on purpose or not, may lead to lasting effects that you do not desire. These types of things take time, I had a patient who was involved in a motor accident, and he broke his wrist, the bones were shattered. He had to undergo surgery for it, after two months the wrist was fine but for two years he experienced stiffness and a shooting pain anytime he balled his fist to hold or carry something. Your nephew here, his situation isn't that bad it was just a fractural damage."

"Hmmm, I see..." Mark murmured whilst giving his nephew a look. "Ugochukwu, go and join Somadina in the car."

~*~*~*~


     Victor Somadina Ejiofor skillfully strummed his acoustic guitar, humming to the sweet melody. He was sitting at the back seat of his father's Lexus, there was no one else in the car with him. Victor felt tranquil, he was always the kind who took comfort in the silent words nature had to speak. As a child, he rarely spoke and when he did, it was usually to say something rude or heavily sarcastic. Victor had loved music all his life, he believed music was a way to communicate with nature and with your subconscious mind, music was his redemption and freedom from the troubles the world was ready to hurl at him.

      Victor continued playing softly and slowly until the door opened and his cousin entered the car, sitting next to him. Through his peripheral vision, he scanned his cousin's profile.

Still strumming, Victor said: "No permanent damage, I presume..." He chuckled and continued. "You were probably hoping you wouldn't be able to hold a pen again so you'll have an excuse to finally quit school."

     Abel turned and gave him a blank stare before looking away. The thirteen year old kept chuckling at his own sarcastic comment even as his fingers danced with his guitar.

~*~*~*~

Lucky

     I was walking down the hallway, hurrying to my locker when someone stuck their long leg out so I could trip and fall. And I successfully did that, I fell flat and to make things worse, I felt my skirt hike up, I was certain I was flashing everyone.

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