When History Repeats Itself

Prologue

** Kerry - Keke Palmer**

Nine years ago...

My palms were sweaty. The air conditioning in my dad's car was fully operational but my palms were sweaty. I could feel my dad watching me. We were parked right outside his house and we were still sitting in the car even though we had arrived ten minutes ago.

I was not this anxious the first time he had brought me home to his house he shared with his wife and my half-sister. My mum was on a flight to London to spend two years getting her Master's degree in Business Administration. She was probably crying the entire flight to London. I was all she had now.

Sixteen years ago, my dad was a big shot lawyer who was a shoe in to become senior partner at his law firm. What the rest of the world, including his wife of five years, did not know was that he was having an affair with a waitress who worked in a bar in a small town on the outskirts of the city he lived in. My mother was the waitress. She got pregnant but knew my dad would not leave his wife and four year old daughter to be with her and raise this child. My dad was married to a military officer and she went away a lot on military business but my dad still loved and adored his wife nonetheless. My mum did what she thought best and ran away, tsking me with her, without breathing a word of my existence to my father.

I was five years old when I first met my father. My grandmother took me out for ice-cream or so I thought. She drove me to a lovely neighborhood and with all the courage she could muster walked up to the front door of one of the beautiful houses. I still remember the words she said when an unfamiliar man opened the door.

"Good morning. I am Lizzie Kerington, mother of Seli Kerington. This is your daughter Kerington Effah. I know your wife and daughter are not home. I was hoping to have a word with you"

According to my dad, he just knew I was his. His first daughter and I had the same features that bore a striking resemblance to his mum and sister.

From that moment on my world turned upside down. I suddenly had a father and a sister. My dad fought to be in my life, supported by my grandmother of course. My mother was hesitant at first but she gave in when she saw how my father publicly acknowledged I was his.

My sister, Sumaya, and I had play dates at neutral places. We never slept over at each other's homes till one weekend, my father's wife, Jamila, asked my mum if it would be okay for me to sleep over. My mum had brought me over to the house. When leaving, she cried like it was my first ever sleepover.

As the years went by, our family situation got better and better. My dad's wife asked me to call her 'aunt Jamila' because that was the only appropriate way to address her. Certainly, calling her 'step mum' or 'Jamila' or 'Mrs. Effah' would not do. So as wrong as it sounded, it really was the only right way to acknowledge her as 'family'.

However my relationship with Sumaya got worse. I was thirteen when Sumaya clearly told me how much she disliked me. Till date I have no idea what changed. All I knew was I was sixteen, my mother was away, my grandmother had died months ago and I was about to spend two years of my life living with my dad, my step-mum and my half-sister who did not want anything to do with me.

I started boarding school at St. Michael's, Sumaya's Alma Mater. Being at an all female high school, because generations of Effah women had attended, helped me settle in easier. Ironically, my first 'real conversation' was with Damien Sampson. He was Sumaya's age and a first year student in a prestigious law school my own father had attended. I had run into him during visiting day at St. Michael's. He later introduced me to his sister Alexa who became my best friend too.

My childhood friends were continuing their 'small town' lives and I was moved to the big city. They were all attending the same local high school, hanging out at the same spots, dating their very own townsfolk and most only considering moving into the city for college. Our lives were very different and like most friendships, we grew apart. The only friend from my town I kept in touch with was my mum's best friend's daughter, Ada.

Things were looking up at home and in my social life but my inner demons grew worse and worse. I was not handling my problems well. I started secretly taking prescription pills to deal with my pain. No one knew my little secret. Not even my two new best friends.

On Sumaya's twenty-first birthday, I was clearly not an invited guest to her birthday party but aunt Jamila insisted that I join and even invite Alexa to keep me company. Damien was already invited because he was friends with Sumaya. Sumaya had ignored me the entire party, her friends were passive aggressive about how annoying it was having me around and even when I handed Sumaya her gift privately, she muttered thanks before throwing my gift, still unwrapped, on the bed behind her.

I could not find my stash in my purse so I bravely went into the drawer that contained aunt Jamila's medicine. I popped a couple of pills I used as back up and just sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom till the feeling I desired washed over me.

That was the one night, Sumaya walked in on me clutching a pill box not prescribed for me. As a medical student, Sumaya knew enough without my dilated pupils and air of oblivion giving me away. I expected a look of disgust but instead I saw a pained look in her eyes. She took the pills away and helped me up to my room.

I was too high to know then but she took care of me and the next morning when the effect wore off, I dreaded seeing my dad. I just knew she would tell him. She came into my room and gave me an ultimatum I could not refuse. Let her help me and give up the drug addiction or force her to tell my dad and deal with his disappointment in me.

She saved me and she never once made me feel like I owed her. I was the little sister she loved and protected fiercely and I adored her for that.