twenty three years old me will appear in court for something I am not even aware of. And I haven't even had time to mourn my dad respectfully. And my mom just mentioned we are to la

y smile drops as I recall my loss. "He's not here" I whisper, the wind making contact with my thick hair, and to think I thought he would never leave, maybe we would stay forever. But

a blur. I just wonder how busy my mom is going to be today, with less than four friends and

tionship. My eyes get wet as I think of what I have gone through in the hands of so called best friends. Just what did I ever do to des

to save it, knowing now it is a murder, maybe even planned by a group of people. And the stares I have been getting can't I just mourn my dad's death in peace, why do they have to look at me like I am a torn in their flesh, all their looks of disdain are being recorded in my head, making it hard for me to breath and even think clearly. But I have to say though that as I stand in the midst of all the forced wails and crocodile tears, I have gotten a courage, that permits me to live my life, that permits me to become someone in life who matter, that permits me to be an anchor for my mom not withstanding my condition. As I walk down to where my mom is squatting, I feel my blood boil in anticipation. Something is coming, something big is coming, and despite what it is, no matter the new kind of pain, no matter the new look of disdain, no

my house as per moms request, I make haste to gather our things and put myself in order. Just as I was about to put the la

say. He nods, and then proceeds to bring out a heavy looking envelop from inside his suit jacket. "whatever may be, even if I hate you, I hate bully more" h

e my leave

rns back and looks at me in disbelieve,

" he says, then puts his hand in his

just yet". He walks away, no comment, but believe me whe

t serious. With my eyes still on my mom I walk slowly with the bag filled with a lot of envelops, kneeling beside my mom, I begin patting her shoulder, but still it seems like she ju

resh shall we?". Who am I to reject her proposal, when I am more in need of it than she does. I j