January 25, 2017
All day long, a Music to my soul
You know me as Pablo but I don’t know who I am now. Thirty two hours ago I was robbed. I could hardly keep my nerves in check and write. I promise though to tell you everything that happens, everything I feel, everything I desire and every little thought I have. There are some secrets I could never speak of to anyone but I promise to tell these things to you. After the reality of the theft dawned on me, with mixed feelings of betrayal – I mean, I barely knew him for 15 minutes though but hell why?!! As a raging emptiness built in my stomach and it somersaulted up through my throat and to the back of my eyes. No tears came. I needed to hold on to that pain! That anger! I needed this!
I have always been a good person but bad things seem to always happen to me. Gaining this admission was perhaps the best thing that had happened to me in two years, but what a way to start off something that was meant to bring me joy. I miss Paul though, My brother. He always knew the best things to say at the right time. Times have never been the same since his passing. If he were here, his sunken baritone would have gone -“suck it up big baby, or you might just as well cry me a river.
The music kept on… I could just as well use the word “Blaring” . It was not soothing music, it wasn’t the kind I thought any had ever heard. It stemmed from my great upset and the giant ball of anxiety rolling to and from the back of my eyes. After waiting a whole day to tell my parents about the stolen money which was to be my tuition fee. I finally resorted to the idea of holding back that piece of information. How could I burden my dad with that information when the mortgage bank was on his neck and we were on the verge of losing our house. Things were not so rosy . Exactly 8pm when dad called, the light went out of my eyes as my face was greeted with such Pallor flushed with distress. I blatantly lied. I told dad I paid the fees and was done with payments. I couldn’t take it back now. As I sat on that stool thinking. My eyes darting back and forth in utter bewilderment, wondering what I had done. Blaming Chike Obi every step of the way. What to do…? What to do…? A smile just managed to escape my lips as some thought evaded my mind.
Earlier that afternoon I managed to go to class. It was my first class. Physics was being taught. It was the biggest auditorium I had ever seen. It told a story of my current problems. Hollow and huge. The lecturer introduced herself as a Mrs. Okafor. The introduction- that was all that sunk and the rest of the class seemed to be what one would be tempted to call a tragedy. Maths was next, but I couldn’t stand it, I had to leave and so I did. Everyone stared and fussed. I had not showered that morning. I was a hot mess.
The blaring music that brought my soul anxiety all day long has not toned down but as I write, this nagging thoughts remains still! This sick smile… I cannot keep at bay…!! What to do? What to do?
Dear diary, there are some secrets I could never speak of, but I promise to tell these things to you.