As she lay dying, Agnes Bangura [best contemporary novels txt] 📗

My life is as complicated as can be, we have been living a quiet life a life in obscurity and in grief. My mom died when I was 15 at such an early age for a boy like me it was hard. Am not the type of person that could easily make friends. When she died my father and I were unsurprisingly drawn away from each other, my father whom I couldn’t call my friend was a very meticulous man. Our house on the outside was peculiar enough to be beautiful and too outsized to be pretty and ooh lord! The inside was just unfit for human habitations, we couldn’t cook, and we never tried so at least the house wouldn’t be scorched down. We lived in Corsica a beautiful Island in the Mediterranean, Corsica is France but not French it had the choicest landscapes, We lived in the capital city Ajaccio. ooh how I hated school I went to a dreadful school  oh how I hated it, the teachers, the food, the students I hated them all! It made life so much complicated. I only had a few friend and only some I really cared about. I woke at 6 every single day I turned my head to see my mother’s picture on the right side of my bed, every single day of my life I will wake up turn my head and stare at it as long as i can. She wasn’t the best mom but she was and always will stay my mom she was a lovely person, with a beautiful personality my dad will say when I asked him what he thinks of mom he would smile and I could see his eyes lighting up and  sparkling when he thinks of her owhh how much they loved each other..  but that was before. Now the only thing I see is hate and darkness he hated himself so much more than I would ever hate the devil himself. The sound of the clucking chickens woke me up from my day dream. 

The warmth of the  scorching sun fell upon my white pale skin as I stood up as feeble as always, Today might be different my heart told me. But at some point in my life I stopped pay attention to what my heart said and to what it felt. It used my brain and I did everythingwith my brain nor with my heart nor with love. 

I stood up and headed straight for the lavatory, the back of my skull felt like it was being smashed by a baseball bat over and over again. I took a cold bath always trying to wash off all the bad memorise learned by heart. A small but meaningful teardrop swift  down my eye, I took a deep breath and finished my bath. Wrapped a towel around my waist it seemed like I haven’t eaten in ages. I gazed at myself in  reflect full of hatred and disgust why did she have to die .. why now I asked myself. She took her last breath holding my arms as I looked in the eyes of my mother grey with love and fear. …ohh mother I wept why. My dad tried so much , we though her dying while she slept, and sleeping while she die.

Publication Date: 10-19-2014

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Dedication:
wrote this book with the help of my best friends, myself, and with the help of other book i have been reading. Deep in side we all know creativity isn't always from our self.