Stronger Than Pain

Chapter forty

My bones ached painfully as I stirred on the foam I laid. A pang of forceful headache erupted from my forehead, shutting my eyes and mercilessly pulling on them. Each angry pull had me cringe in pain, with my eyes becoming blurry and teary. I couldn't focus on any image in the room and for the next six minutes, shut my eyes firmly in a bit to shoo away the pain. It's effectiveness was temporal as every pain doubles in an instant, once the bright rays of light from the open window shines on them.

The room was chilly and in response to its coolness, my body was covered in goose pimples. Exhaling warm breaths in agitation, I didn't need a prophet to realize all these morning pains were as a result of where I'd slept, the mat-like foam mum had bought from the market yesterday. I struggled to sit up on it but the little I stir, the more shooting pains my bones received. I slowly turned around, squinting my eyes intermittently in response to the pains I felt.

Zara was still laying beside me, snoring softly with her lips occasionally twitching in playful smiles.

How much does she play even in her sleep? Her dreamland must be some sort of paradise!

Squinting my eyes to see better, I  scanned the room to only realize  mum wasn't in sight. Alert, I sprang up, walking to the convenience but she wasn't there too. Worried, I hurried over to the door, carefully lacing my hand on it and twisting to pull it open. Incidentally, from the corners of my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a white paper which laid on top of the ghana-must-go bag mum and aunty Mma had brought our clothes in from my dad's house. A blue pen was placed on it maybe to help keep it intact and from not not flying way. I withdrew my hand from the door knob and walked briskly over to it, lowering my body to retrieve it. It was a note, written in the roughest writing I might have ever seen.

"Ada m, I left very early for something important and didn't want to disturb your sleep. The water in the flask is still warm and the provisions and bread are still remaining much that would serve you and your sister for breakfast. Kindly prepare tea for you both pending when I'm home dear. Don't worry, we'll be having a proper meal later today, it's a promise. Do take care of yourself and Zara. Love, mum."

Sadness slowly crept into my heart once I was done reading the note. Seeing my mum worry helplessly over what we'll eat and daily means of survival breaks my heart, and the fact that I can do next to nothing to help out no matter how little, hurts the most. I glanced at Zara again who had slowly moved away from the foam and down to the bare floor, her body not even minding or recognizing the really cold temperature of where she's laying.

Pneumonia should really be the last trouble on mum's mind!

I walked back to the bed, lifting Zara off the floor and onto the little foam, pretty careful not to wake her up. Settled, I laid beside my sleeping sister, snuggling close to her. Sad thoughts of mum's pains wouldn't let me relax as they engulfed my heart, and in each passing second gives me the pushy need to burst into tears. To fight this urge, I began running my fingers gently through Zara's hair, humming a tune mum used to sing to me when I was little. Still not feeling great, I gently tossed my arm around her, bringing her closer and hugging her hard.

She stirred. But I didn't let go.

My guts urged me to hug her tightly, just to relieve the swirling pain engulfing my young heart, but even at that, I couldn't stop a stray tear from rolling down my cheek, slowly as my heart parades many questions, one which was most hurtful....

When was the last time we had a proper meal?

That would be few days ago when aunty Mma treated us to packs of jollof rice and chicken, a meal though extraordinary we'd eaten in silence. Since then, it's been tea for breakfast and dinner.