It was raining.
Droplets of rain splashed against the grounds, forming puddles in some areas.
Although it wasn't a heavy downpour, it still brought along with it that cold breeze.
Luckily for me, I had been wise enough to take an umbrella with me.
7:02pm.
It was getting late and I was still unable to find a bus.
I had just left my Aunt's house some minutes ago. My twin cousins, Kehinde and Taiwo had been so eager to see me for the past few months. They were my favourite cousins and of course, I had to fulfill their request.
Though my aunty had offered to drive me home, I declined her offer.
I had been standing by the road side for about thirty minutes now and every bus that passed by me was already brimming with passengers.
It was always this way whenever the skies decided that it was time to cry.
"You look pretty jor. Stop acting like an old woman."
I watched as the owner of the voice and her friend walked past me. In a way, they reminded me of Kiki and I.
I chuckled slightly.
Kiki...
I had not been able to contact her since the birthday party. The party that had ended on a bad note for the both of us, especially, me. I knew her too well that she was trying to give me some space.
Thank you Kiki.
*.*.*.
What in the world was this woman doing here? How did she even know the location of the party? Had she previously asked Kiki to tell her?
This could not be happening. Definitely not now.
"So this is what you do now?" That usual over exaggerated expression came to settle on her face. "Men have become your problem now, abi?"
"What men, mummy?" I asked, already in tears enough to fill a bucket.
"Shey na me you dey ask that question?"
Another hot slap followed.
This same woman who claimed to be my mother made sure that she had beaten me to her satisfaction at the party before she pulled me out.
Don't forget, her hand never left the neck of my dress.
Kiki was not abel to help me since she was caught up in a heated argument with the celebrant.
It was obvious that the girl was angry at her for bringing a ' mummy's girl ' like me to the party.
To show how much of a disgrace this woman wanted me to experience, she had driven down to the party by herself - something she never did and would never do, even though I was at the hands of kidnappers.
Once we got home, I saw a man seated carefreely in our living room as though he was the one that built it.
Richard. He was my mum's husband.
Any time I set my eyes on Richard, I wondered if mum had even for once loved dad.
Mum loved and treated Richard like he was her first love. How disgusting I found it!
Now that this monstrosity of a human being was around, I strongly believed that he was behind mum's actions.
"What happened?" Richard asked with all innocence as soon as we stepped into the house.
Such a dramatic man! How shameless could he be!
For one thing I know, this man was my greatest enemy.
"This brat," My mother's hand went across my face again. Even without a mirror, I could tell that the prints left by her palms were seated boldly on my face.
"This brat went to the birthday party just so she could be talking to men."
" Ashawo! Oloriburuku!" She spat in addition as she finally released her grip from my dress. The neck area was dangling already and I could tell it was slacked.
"So is this now what you do? Prostitution?" Richard began.
God, see me see trouble o. Did this hungry lion think that he was my father or something?
"Abeg stop trying to be what you're not. It's annoying," I scoffed in response. With that, I ran upstairs to my room despite all the shouts I received from him and my mother. I wouldn't have dared to catwalk out of their presence.
Later that night, Miriam told me what had actually transpired. Her story confirmed my suspicions. Richard was the one who persuaded my mum into checking in on my activities because he had said he didn't trust me.
The battle that this man has started, na me go finish am.
"Mark my words, Richard," I muttered before retiring to bed.
*.*.*.
As I thought of all these things, the idea of killing myself was slowly returning.
No.
I wouldn't go home.
I'd take a bus that will get me to a farther destination from here.
Yes.
Father was dead anyways. I was very sure that he would receive me with wide arms.
"Things are easier said than done, you know," I heard a laughter of mockery beside me.
I turned my head in the direction of the owner of the voice. I hadn't even noticed when someone came beside me.
It was him.
My forehead creased to show how annoyed I was with his presence. He was the same stranger that had failed to help me when I was about to kill myself.
The only thing I never noticed about him were his eyes. They were blue. He looked like an half caste so maybe that was normal.
"Why are you stalking me?" I firmly asked. "B.a.c.k o.f.f."
"Stalking you?" He poked his head forward in laughter.
The other day he was being cold and today, he was making mockery of me.
"If my mother sent you to kill me, please do. I am ready to die, anyways," I hissed and moved to fold my hand across my chest.
"Watch the words that leave that hole of yours," He said. This time, there was every bit of seriousness in his tone.
"Who are you to tell me what to say and what not to?" I simply eyed him.
Then, as if God wanted to rescue me from this guy, a fairly vacant bus came in my direction. I quickly waved my hand downwards and it stopped.
"Wuse II. How much?" I asked the conductor as soon as I reached the door of the bus. All this while, that stranger stood behind me.
I was bothered at first until I remembered that he was human like me and getting into a bus like me.
"150 with change. Oya oya," The conductor hurried over his words in a typical yoruba accent.
I immediately got in and made my way to the empty backseat. Mr. Stranger followed suit.
There were a few times the bus stopped to pick people along the way that were heading in similar directions. Although, this stopped once there were no vacant sit left.
Throughout the rest of the drive, I felt quite uncomfortable sitting very close to this stranger. He didn't even glance in my direction nor say a thing to me as if he wasn't the one mocking me some minutes ago.
From time to time, I took fast glances at him. Not because I wanted to do so but because I wanted to keep track of his features in case he turned out to be the stalker I believed he was.
Thank God, I was privileged to fast access to the police - perks of being a rich and powerful man's daughter.
Taking note of this guy's features was not an easy task at all. The perfection of his face was hard to not appreciate for even a second.
His ocean blue eyes were what piqued my interest the most. They looked like fine pearls and I was crazy enough to feel like touching them.
' Blue eyes. The most recognizable detail to give the police,' I noted.
His nose was another perfection. It was as if God invested so much time in creating him.
His lips were well...plump...
"Are you done with staring at me?" His eyes turned slits, came to rest on me and I think my heart skipped a beat that moment.
This boy was scary for someone with such level of handsomeness. In fact, he was beautiful.
"No, it's not... I-I-I-I just," I couldn't stand the embarrassment that stared me right in the face.
I shouldn't have stared for so long.
Damn you, Tilda!
Soon, I arrived at my destination and it appeared that Mr. Stranger had too. Perhaps he lived in this street as well or was he just stalking me?