Searching for Love, Found Wealth

Kiera?!” my mom’s voice broke my thoughts. I then noticed I was crying. I quickly wiped it off. The thoughts of Jana, my one and only friend so far, leaving me really hurts! But what do I expect? People come and go.

“Sorry, mom. I’m okay” I smiled to pacify her, she looked down at her food but still stole some concerned glances at me.

I was just fifteen but I have gone through more emotional pains than an average adult.

I won’t blame all my pains on bullying. It was a major aspect but not all.

I have passed through what people would call “losing your first love”. My mom once read to me an article about how every girls first love is her father.

Well, mine walked out on me and my mom on my seventh birthday. I didn’t really understand why but for eight years, I tried not to talk about it much – for my mom’s sake. But I was pretty sure it had to do with “Breaking of marriage vow: commitment to one’s partner”.

Well, it wasn’t the only loss I had in the Love category, My best friend, Charles James, left me too. He was a black like me – we grew up together – since my fourth year birthday. It’s relocation out of the country surprised me.

He was ten then but he couldn’t explain the urgency of the relocation. I tried calling at all his birthdays but no one answered. For a long time, I deleted his number. Since then, I felt that I was abandoned.

So far, my mom and my Christian faith is the only thing keeping me going. I’ve heard of countless kids who committed suicide – though, I doubt I’d ever come to that – I’m smart enough to know suicide solves nothing.

Most of the folks who committed suicide realized the hard way that death can’t heal pain.

And according to my Christian faith, murder – in any form – is death in Hell. No matter what I face, I’ll just have to look at the teacher and guide me, so my Pastor says.

And why should I be thinking of suicide when I just made up my mind to fight back. Not even the devil can stop me now, more or less death! None of them are stopping me now.

No one’s worth shouldn’t be determined not measured by my beauty, skin color or popularity at school. These are just stereotypes but they’re not going to define me.

I rose up with my empty plate and marched into the kitchen. While clearing up the dishes, I let my mind wander to my new mission. Operation: Proving to everyone who Kiera James is.

It sounded lame but I didn’t bother change it – I’ll have my own gang – a group of other kids – kids who are tired of being judged by their looks, race and popularity.

I smiled to myself at my thought. I loved the new me. Like, I had done some major orientations on myself. I was being more like a leader, a fighter like I used to be.

My mom came into the kitchen to drop her plate. “Won’t you tell me why you were sad?” she asked. I knew she would ask again. “I’m not sad” I said to her.

She nodded and left but I knew she didn’t believe me, well my mom was one who didn’t like being too nosy, she believes if you want to talk, you’ll talk. I don’t really agree with it but I go along with it, sometimes.

My phone buzzed in my pockets. It was an unknown number. “Hello, Kiera on the line” I said with my most formal accent. “Oh, sorry. Wrong number” and the line was cut. I glared at the phone before I placed it on a kitchen cabinet and resumed washing.

Few seconds later, I overheard my mom’s phone ringing but I don’t think she lasted long on the call. My phone buzzed again. “Hey, what’s this all about?” I mumbled while wiping my hands on my skirt. It was becoming strange – few people had my number – very few would bother call it.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Hello, again” I answered the line. It was the unknown number again, and I had few formalities left so I added “Who’s calling?”.

Whoever it was stayed quiet. Soon, my mom came crashing down the stairs. She almost fell!!! “Its him” she whispered while standing at the door. “Who?” I gestured.

She kept making inaudible sounds. The caller wasn’t talking either. I was almost cutting the line when I heard “Bye, on my way”. The line ended. On way where? Who was this caller? And he’s a guy!

I was now staring at my phone and my mom. “Its who?” I asked my mom again.

It happened so fast.

I still couldn’t believe it. When my mom had said “It’s him” earlier, no one came to mind. After pondering on it for a bit, I thought maybe it was my dad who left when I was four.

That’s the only “him’ that’ll make my mom almost crash down the stairs for but I was wrong. Well it’s been five years now. I looked up to him again.

Standing before me was my long lost best friend – ex-best friend. He changed, and a lot. And for a moment, my feelings of uneasiness came, my best friend looked like now a typical black American kid actor. Charles’ black and gold t-shirt was “super-duper” cool. And he now had wavy hair.

I wasn’t dressed badly but I felt like a maid compared to him.

My mom was still exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. James, mom’s pleasantries were so long. Charles wasn’t looking at me, somehow, it felt like he was avoiding my gaze, the same way five years ago when he couldn’t come up with a reason for his family’s sudden relocation.

Anger flared in me and I quietly left the sitting room. He noticed when I was half-way up the stairs. He didn’t come after me – why should he anyway? – I probably wasn’t the one he came to see. Then…who else? Mom?! Whatever…!

I shouldn’t feel like I am important.

I stayed in my room for a longtime, not because I was angry with Charles exactly but I was trying to absorb the shock of their sudden arrival, the complete transformation he undergoes and I wanted to also plan what I was going to say. I’ll be formal now.

I had stayed long. It could be seen as “rude” to not come down to greet your visitor.

I looked down at my clothes. Again, they weren’t bad but I felt I should still change them. On second thoughts, I shouldn’t, Charles shouldn’t think I changed for him. What was I even thinking?

I dragged myself from my bed and slowly made for the sitting room. If he was the last obstacle I had to overcome so my last could let me be, I’m going to trample on him if I have to.