Listen to Hold On by Chord Overstreet
My name is Nancy George but my real name is Star Osilama. My dad is a Nigerian and my mom is an American, "a mixture of two greatness" that's what my dad used to say.
My dad was a pharmacist at Roche pharmaceutical Ltd. And my mom, she was a doctor, a neurosurgeon. My parents were my heroes, I wanted to be exactly like them when I grew up.
They never saw me grow up.
Nancy's POV
"Daddy"!
"Hey my little girl I missed you" my dad said and gave me a huge hug. My dad has been gone for 3 days but to me it felt like a century, I missed him so much, more than words can describe.
"Hey hun" my dad shouted out to my mom
"Hey baby, how was your flight" my mom asked while giving my dad a kiss.
"Stressful but at least I'm home now, with the two most beautiful women in the world" he said whilst tingling me, I giggled so hard my ribs hurt. My dad kissed my mom and tried to lift me up but failed. "I'm not a little girl anymore daddy", he agreed and placed his forehead on mine instead.
"I missed you so much sweetie" he said.
"I missed you too daddy", he kissed my head and exited for the stairs.
It was dinner time and the osilamas' always had dinner together, it was a tradition or as my dad would say "by fire by force" it means whether you like it or not.
I would always watch my parents on the dinning table, how they looked at the each other marveled me, I wanted that, I was 12 but I wanted that.
We ate, drank, well my parents drank and I had juice, talked and laughed. I couldn't stop yapping about my science fair project.
My parents tucked me in bed after dinner, yeah they still did that, which was more lovely than annoying. I kissed them good night or rather they kissed me good night after saying our night prayer. I loved them so much.
At 12am I heard a gun shot, it was clear as daylight. I did what every normal kid would do, ran to my daddy and mummy and there they were on the floor, bleeding and dying. I screamed for help but no one heard me, I prayed but all was to no avail. I watched my parents die right in front of me and in my arms.
My young mind couldn't take the trauma, so I passed out. Our neighbors who heard the gun shot called the police.
The next morning I woke up in the hospital with social services at the door. Just like that I was an orphan looking for a home. My dad's best friends all rejected me and so did my mom's, I had no one and nothing. The company my dad worked for labeled him a thief just right after his death, harsh right? And the bank seized all his properties, his and my moms.
I was at the orphanage home for days, days became weeks, weeks became months, and months became years. At 18 I had to move out and begin a new chapter.
My name is Nancy George, welcome to my story.