I sat with my bra, my white shirt (which I was using to place pressure on the injury) all soaked in blood. I sat at the center of the highway, crying and begging him to stay with me; his time was almost up, I knew. If I hadn't hated my own people - such lovely people - I have been the fool all this time, but it's too late. A love story I never regretted writing.

I ran my fingers through my black silky hair, as I sat on my royal pink bed. I always thought I would be a Princess; the situation is heavier than I thought. I just couldn't take it; we are losing everything in a flash. I just can't believe it - the company actually burnt down, the amount investors are suing for this is crazy. I can't go on with my friends; I can't come out; it's everywhere. We are losing the house soon; my social life is gone; I'm doomed.
I started feeling dizzy as all these thoughts ran through my head. I took my eyes off the mirror so I don't see what a failure I have become. Am going to lose the pool; the summer holidays won't be with Tyler, Jason, and Abby but total strangers. Tears filled my eyes as I slumped on the bed.
My door gently swung open. "I have been knocking, darling; you ain't answering," it was Mom. She looked very stressed and frustrated; her afro hair was scattered, her tie was loose, she didn't have her jacket on; she was in her suit skirt. Her eyes were screaming, "Am sorry, darling."
"Uhhhhhh, the housekeepers, Rebecca and Janel, will come pack your clothes; you are going to stay with Grandma in Enugu, Nigeria," she gave out a weak smile. "You are not convincing me; it's final; there is nothing I can do," she said, standing on my fur, pure white center rug. She turned immediately and left.
I watched as she left; I shut my eyes as tears rolled freely from my eyes. I sighed and stood angrily as I pulled down my huge mirror, which was shaped like a heart; it came down crashing into pieces. "Bloody disgusting Nigerians," I screamed, as I stormed into the bathroom. Didn't realize I had been cut till I stepped into the tub warm water.
I clutched my legs to my chest as I heard my door open. "Park my bags and get that clean, Janel and Rebecca!" I screamed. "Yes, ma," they replied. "Get my skin cares, my makeup, my soaps; everything packed, my bags, shoes, jewelry - all packed!" I screamed out again.
I took my bath, got changed, and laid on the bed going through my iPhone 16. As I read through the already published article, I mean, it was all I was seeing: "John Newton's EX-wife, Mrs. Mirabel Newton, now known as Mirabel Obianuju, has gone bankrupt after losing her company, Shiraz Beauty Cosmetics, the biggest cosmetic company in New York. She now has a liability of millions and outstandings to banks of millions; seems like she has been making bad investments. Her only daughter, Alexis Newton, has been withdrawn from her school; I wonder how bad it has gotten."
"Fuckkkk!" I screamed and slammed my phone on the sofa. "This goddamn article and blog." My phone vibrated; text from Jason: "At least I got my friends." I opened it and saw a text from Jason: "Look Alexis, we have decided this thing you are in; it's bad for us. We don't need it destroying our image and family being on articles. We have to end our friendship here; we all have decided. Sorry; we have all unfollowed you on socials."
"Fuck you all!" I said and threw my phone to the wall, as I stood and cursed out loud. I slumped on my bed and cried myself to sleep.
Grrrrrrrrr, my alarm went. I immediately got up, took my bath; I was already getting suffocated in this surrounding. I had to move, but not to Nigeria - not just Nigeria. Am actually a black American, but I can't believe I'm racist to my own people; Mom always complained about it, but I don't care. The only thing showing I was black was my afro hair, which I relaxed and kept straightening, so it's difficult to realize my dad is white after all.
I brushed and stretched my hair, wore a white tank top, a black half-jacket, a black boyfriend jean, and black Doc Martens. Alexis' mother called from downstairs, "First time she actually screamed my name," I thought. I always got her messages through the servants. I picked my purse and came down, admiring the house - it's a beautiful mansion decorated in black and gold. I sighed and got into the black GLE.
"What the heck, Rebecca? Just two bags packed? Where are my stuffs?" I shouted angrily. Mom stepped out, giving me a cold look. "You are going with only important things, and your flight is leaving soon
- Enugu, Nigeria, 8:39 AM.I felt a different weather and atmosphere as I stepped out of the airport; the sun was burning so bad. I was at Enugu; I felt like crying. "I can't survive here, Mom," I stammered, almost in tears.
We boarded a taxi to Grandma's house; the ride was smooth. It's been up to 15 years since I was here. I felt a shiver down my spine as I remembered how I was hated by others because I was white and always fell sick. "The traffic jam is crazy, I hate it already, Mom," I said. "So many traffic lights, but a lot of jams."
I sat looking outside; we soon arrived in front of a green duplex. Compared to my house, it is poor. "Ehhhh, oyiborrr," a dark-looking man screamed, saluting my mom. "Arghhhh, madam, she fine o." What sort of English was that, for real? I looked at him; he stretched forth his hands to shake mine. "Chocolate and caramel," he said. I scoffed as I dodged his hands. "Get my bags," I told him coldly. I really didn't want to know who he was.
I stormed in angrily. "He wouldn't have done that," I said angrily, as I crashed into a woman of about 5'3". "Your home, baby," she said, as she squeezed me in. Physical touches weren't my thing; I gave her a gentle push and a fake smile and headed upstairs to find a nice room.The second master bedroom - it was smaller than my room, and it was a wooden wardrobe. I felt like a dethroned princess, remembering I had a room just for my clothes in New York; now everything is gone.

good

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