Excerpts from my Book I
This is just an excerpt from my book. It is not complete, but I promise that before my next birthday, it will be. I figured that if I put my deadline out there, then I will take it seriously. It is just a draft, so it is not perfect. I sincerely apologise in advance for the typographical and language errors that you will encounter. I also promise that this give nothing away, not even the storyline. (If you don't like that, I'm in my room. Feel free to come and beat me.)
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Adanna
Weekends are supposed to be amazing, but let's face it the only real break comes on Saturday. On Sunday, I have to wake up too early for morning mass and when I come back, I spend the rest of the day catching up on work. When Ama started quacking me, I knew it was already Sunday.
"Hmmm...?"
"I'm awake. I promise"
"Just two minutes more, please"
"Ok, only one minute"
My pleas were like pouring water on a rock. She kept pulling and pushing until I gave up and sat up. As usual, she was ready up to her scarf and shoes. I could perceive her signature lavender perfume. My eyes drowsily roamed the wall until they fell on my red wall clock. 4:53!
"Ama, it's too early," I muttered while attempting to return to bed. She caught on quickly and pulled me back upright.
"When did you even wake up? How can you get ready so fast?", I nagged weakly.
"I'm not leaving here until you enter that bathroom. You know how I hate the 8 o'clock mass with all those crying children," she said. I hated that mass too. It seemed like all the children in Port Harcourt gathered there to make all the noise they had missed out on during the week. The thought of that was enough to get me on my feet. I walked to my wardrobe to pick out a suitable dress for the mass as Ama left to take her routine medication. My wardrobe was overwhelming as usual. I had a penchant for anything fashionable and over the years I had become an impulsive buyer. After pondering over two dresses, I finally picked a blue sequined dress and red heels to go with it. It was funny that I always made an effort in dressing for such an early mass. Everyone else wore casual clothes. One time, I even saw a young girl in her night gown and it was the joke of the week for Ama and me.
I had hoped my little clothes-picking exercise would keep my eyes open, but who was I kidding? Last night had been epic. Another friend of mine was getting married, and her bridal shower had been amazing. It was a miracle that I did not drink. The hangover would have probably killed me, I thought as I pulled off my clothes slowly and got into the bathtub. The plan had been to pick the soap and starstthe bath, but somehow I failed. Somewhere between turning on the shower and grabbing my soap, I had convinced myself that I just needed to rest my head on the tub for a few seconds.
Ama's voice rang like the bell from secondary school and violently threw me out of my slumber. She sounded very angry. From her screams, all I could make out was that we had fifteen minutes and that she did not want to go late to 'serve her God'. I quickly turned on the shower and had a hasty bath. Grabbing my towel, I rushed into my room. From the look on Ama's face, I knew it was risky to attempt make up. I threw on my blue dress and grabbed my shoes. Yesterday's purse was still packed, so I grabbed it and followed Ama downstairs. Taking the car keys from the kitchen, I left the house feeling extremely underdressed for a Sunday. Usually I had time to put on some makeup and comb my hair at least. Today I had to depend on my scarf to hide the messy bundle. As I remembered happily that I had put a mini makeup kit in my purse the night before, I reached down to retrieve it. The look of horror on my face startled Ama.
“Adanna, what is it?” she asked with so much concern. When I pointed down to my bright orange purse, she did not understand. Then, I explained that my colour faux pas was going to make me someone else's joke for the week. The angry look she gave me was strong enough to raise the dead.
.............................................................
PS: I sincerely apologise for the irregularities in my updates. It has really been a hard month. Thank you for your unending support.
#AllGrownUp
#Loading
#TheRitaSide
.................................................................
Adanna
Weekends are supposed to be amazing, but let's face it the only real break comes on Saturday. On Sunday, I have to wake up too early for morning mass and when I come back, I spend the rest of the day catching up on work. When Ama started quacking me, I knew it was already Sunday.
"Hmmm...?"
"I'm awake. I promise"
"Just two minutes more, please"
"Ok, only one minute"
My pleas were like pouring water on a rock. She kept pulling and pushing until I gave up and sat up. As usual, she was ready up to her scarf and shoes. I could perceive her signature lavender perfume. My eyes drowsily roamed the wall until they fell on my red wall clock. 4:53!
"Ama, it's too early," I muttered while attempting to return to bed. She caught on quickly and pulled me back upright.
"When did you even wake up? How can you get ready so fast?", I nagged weakly.
"I'm not leaving here until you enter that bathroom. You know how I hate the 8 o'clock mass with all those crying children," she said. I hated that mass too. It seemed like all the children in Port Harcourt gathered there to make all the noise they had missed out on during the week. The thought of that was enough to get me on my feet. I walked to my wardrobe to pick out a suitable dress for the mass as Ama left to take her routine medication. My wardrobe was overwhelming as usual. I had a penchant for anything fashionable and over the years I had become an impulsive buyer. After pondering over two dresses, I finally picked a blue sequined dress and red heels to go with it. It was funny that I always made an effort in dressing for such an early mass. Everyone else wore casual clothes. One time, I even saw a young girl in her night gown and it was the joke of the week for Ama and me.
I had hoped my little clothes-picking exercise would keep my eyes open, but who was I kidding? Last night had been epic. Another friend of mine was getting married, and her bridal shower had been amazing. It was a miracle that I did not drink. The hangover would have probably killed me, I thought as I pulled off my clothes slowly and got into the bathtub. The plan had been to pick the soap and starstthe bath, but somehow I failed. Somewhere between turning on the shower and grabbing my soap, I had convinced myself that I just needed to rest my head on the tub for a few seconds.
Ama's voice rang like the bell from secondary school and violently threw me out of my slumber. She sounded very angry. From her screams, all I could make out was that we had fifteen minutes and that she did not want to go late to 'serve her God'. I quickly turned on the shower and had a hasty bath. Grabbing my towel, I rushed into my room. From the look on Ama's face, I knew it was risky to attempt make up. I threw on my blue dress and grabbed my shoes. Yesterday's purse was still packed, so I grabbed it and followed Ama downstairs. Taking the car keys from the kitchen, I left the house feeling extremely underdressed for a Sunday. Usually I had time to put on some makeup and comb my hair at least. Today I had to depend on my scarf to hide the messy bundle. As I remembered happily that I had put a mini makeup kit in my purse the night before, I reached down to retrieve it. The look of horror on my face startled Ama.
“Adanna, what is it?” she asked with so much concern. When I pointed down to my bright orange purse, she did not understand. Then, I explained that my colour faux pas was going to make me someone else's joke for the week. The angry look she gave me was strong enough to raise the dead.
.............................................................
PS: I sincerely apologise for the irregularities in my updates. It has really been a hard month. Thank you for your unending support.
#AllGrownUp
#Loading
#TheRitaSide
Why does all this sound familiar......
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