Hi, My name is Lora Obinna and I am going to tell you a short story. A short, short story in the long story that is my life.
This story starts with a day, a day printed in my memory like every other day. The day God abandoned me and threw me to the wolves.
The day pain became my lover fucking with me even in my dreams. But I am not going to start telling you this story from that day. I will start this story from a day long, long after that day.
It was a Monday morning and I was in college.
My lecturer was supposed to conduct a test for us, a test on a compulsory course. The law of contract.
He later did not conduct the test and no one could hold him responsible for it because he had every power over the said course. He had the power to do and undo, to write and to erase whatever was written. He was the alpha of the course and we were his beta's.
When he cancelled the test he left me heartbroken because unlike me, I spent a whole week reading for this test because I didn't want to fail it.
Although, I had a photographic memory I still was afraid to forget. However this was only when it had to do with my studies.
Honestly, I wouldn't mind it if I suddenly developed amnesia. Anything as long as I can forget all the horrible things that I have been through
Life is funny, I forget what i need to remember and remember what I need to forget.
The problem with having a photographic memory is that you never forget a thing. Even if sometimes we need to forget so bad, our brains doesn't give us the opportunity to. So a photographic memory sometimes equals torture.
I hurriedly got up from the chair I was sitting on when the lecturer left the class in a hurry. The whole class became rowdy after his announcement so he quickly left us to the noise we were making.
Disappointed I made to leave too.
Standing up my insecurities came crashing down on me as ever before. I started to ask questions to no one in particular.
Did I look beautiful? was my hair too rough? Was my walking step good enough? Is my leg straight? How do people see me? Do they like me? Am I someone they would want to be friends with?
Did my fair skin glow? Did they think that I was too thin and too short to qualify as beautiful? Were my lips too full? Where by eyes too brown?
So many questions to ask but who do I ask them to, and how do I judge my own self in all honesty without being too lenient or too harsh.
Whichever one of you can say he is an upright judge when it comes to judging himself is a liar.