The bus rumbled down the deserted highway, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the radio. I gazed out the window, watching as the landscape shifted from lush green forests to a barren wasteland. The sign on the side of the road read "Pripyat" in faded letters, and I felt a chill run down my spine. This was it, the infamous city that had been abandoned in the aftermath of the Chernobyl disaster.

"Nia!" I called out, as she ran out of the bus.

She's always getting into mischief. I saw her, running off towards the ruins.

"Nia, wait!" I shouted, taking off after her.

Our guide, a gruff but kind-hearted Ukrainian man named Viktor, stepped in front of me. "Be careful," he warned, his eyes serious. "The radiation levels are still high in some areas. We need to stay together."

I nodded, feeling a surge of worry. I caught up to Nia, who was exploring a abandoned playground. I grabbed her hand, holding it tightly.

As we made our way through the city, I couldn't help but feel like I was walking through a ghost town. The buildings stood empty, their windows shattered, their walls cracked. The streets were littered with debris, and the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the occasional bark of a wild dog.

We stopped in front of a abandoned apartment building. Viktor told us that this was where many of the city's residents had lived. I couldn't help but wonder what their lives had been like, what they had left behind.

As we explored the building, I stumbled upon a room that seemed frozen in time. There was a child's doll on the floor, a book open on a table, a pair of shoes discarded in the corner. It was as if the occupants had just gotten up and left.

But they hadn't just left. They had been forced to flee, to abandon their homes and their lives. The thought left me breathless, my heart heavy with the weight of their loss.

As we continued our tour, I couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. The city of Pripyat was a testament to the devastating power of human error. But it was also a reminder of the resilience of the human spirit.

We left the city, quite. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the desolate landscape. It was a hauntingly beautiful sight, one that I would never forget.

I closed my eyes, letting the silence of the city wash over me. The only sound was the soft beep of the Geiger counter in my hand, a reminder of the secrets that this abandoned city still held. And as I stood there, I knew that I would never forget this place, this haunting reminder of the devastating power of human error.

I've been trapped in this place for what feels like an eternity. The walls are a dull gray, the floors are cold and unforgiving, and the air is thick with the scent of despair. I've lost count of the days, the weeks, the months. Time has no meaning here. The halls are lined with doors, each one leading to a different cell, a different prisoner. I've seen some of them, heard their whispers and their screams. We're all trapped here, together, yet alone.

The guards patrol the halls, their footsteps echoing off the walls. They're always watching, always waiting. I've tried to escape before, but they're too strong, too vigilant. They always catch me, always drag me back. But it's not just the guards that keep me trapped. It's the voices in my head, the constant chatter of self-doubt and fear. "You're not good enough," they whisper. "You'll never make it." The voices are relentless, echoing off the walls of my mind.

And then there are the visitors. My family comes to see me, bearing gifts and false smiles. "Be a good girl," they say. But their words are laced with poison, weighing me down with expectations and responsibilities.

And then, there's the thought of returning to a different prison after getting out of this one. "Learn this, memorize that," the teachers there drone. But their words are hollow, devoid of meaning or passion. They're just trying to mold me into something I won't be.

Adolescence is a cruel joke, a never-ending cycle of confusion and uncertainty. My body is changing, my emotions are raw, and my mind is a jumbled mess. I'm lost, alone, and adrift.

But I won't give up. I won't stop trying. I have to escape, no matter what it takes.

I've been watching the guards, studying their routines. I know when they change shifts, when they take their breaks. I know the layout of the asylum, every door, every hallway. I've been waiting for the perfect moment to make my move. It comes on a Friday, after lunchtime. The guards are distracted, busy with returning us to our cells. I see my chance and I take it.

As he turns, forgetting to lock, I slip out of my cell, into the hallway. I move quickly, quietly, trying not to draw attention to myself. I make my way to the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest. As I climb, I hear the guards shouting behind me. They're closing in, but I won't stop. I keep moving, my feet pounding the stairs. I reach the top floor, the administrative offices. I know there's a door here, a door that leads outside. I've seen the guards use it, but I've never been able to get close.

I burst through the door, into the bright sunlight. I feel a rush of freedom, of exhilaration. I've made it, I've escaped.

But as I look around, I realize something's off. The buildings, the streets, they're all familiar. And then it hits me - I'm standing in front of my own house.

The asylum, it wasn't a physical place. It was my own mind, my own thoughts. I've been trapped in my own head, and I just escaped. I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of wonder, of awe. I'm free, and it's the weekend!

Savage dreams we chase

Sleepless nights and restless hearts

Splash of independence

Epic fails and wins

Embracing the messy ride

Embers of youth glow

Low-key, life's a grind

Losing ourselves, finding more

Lessons in every fall

Oddly, we're okay

Open to the unknown

Opportunities knock

Moonlit nights reveal

Maturity's gentle whisper

Murmuring softly, hush.

Across the expanse of distance and pain

I'll find my way back to the warmth of home

To the echoes of love and memories that linger

Refusing to be extinguished

Even as a shadow

Across the expanse of distance and pain

I'll find my way back to the warmth of home

To the echoes of love and memories that linger

Refusing to be extinguished

Even as a shadow wine

In a refrain that beats stronger

With every step I take

Through the blackness of night

I'll chart a course through the stars

To find the beacon that shines bright

Illuminating the path back to your loving sight

In your arms I find solace

My heart calmed, my soul at peace

Forever and always

My love will be the safe haven

Where our hearts beat as one

And in your eyes, I am home

The sun shone brightly; of course, that was the only job it had. It was sandy like every beach was. I hated the gritty touches I felt as I walked barefooted on the sandy beach. I had tied the laces on my shoes into a knot and hung them around my neck. For a while, I stood and stared at the water. It seemed like it had no end as it blended with the skies above my head. I took in a deep breathe and continued walking on the beach.

“How could she say no? To me? After everything?” I kept thinking whether last night was a joke or a dream.

Maybe it never happened. I paused again and smelt my breathe. Oh yeah, last night was no dream. Then, in a distance I could see a lovely couple, happy as they played and basked in the sand.

“Why can’t we be like that?” I wondered.

One particular scene caught my attention. I enjoyed my job but it seemed like the cop on the mountain bike did not. With an angry face, he engaged in a speed pursuit of a thief while yelling at him to stop. It was more of a nuisance to me. And there were the loners, just like I had become. It seemed like he had just come out of the water after a bath as he was still wet. He sat alone staring at his phone and then to the sky and back to his phone again. Was it despair? Or something else?

“Oh God!” I prayed, “let my life not turn miserable.”

Why would I pray such a prayer? My life was already miserable; I just needed to cope with it. Yet again, I saw another man, lonely. He sat in the sand, pretty close to the water. As if he had noticed me staring, he turned to me as I stood a distance away and looked up at me, real close. He stared as if he knew me or he wanted me to feel uncomfortable and look away. That was exactly what happened. But I could feel him still staring. I continued walking on the gritty beach towards the lonely man that sat close to the water. As I passed behind his back, oh goodness, he had no legs, not even one? What a world. I felt pity for him.

“And you’re complaining?” I muttered to myself.

How I wished I could help. Oh, I could. A strong force urged me to turn back. Which I did. I reached into my pocket. What? Only coins? I began to think back to where I had left my wallet as it was in neither of my pockets.

“Damn! In my coat at Stanley’s place,” I yelped as I held my head.

The legless man turned to me. The force that had urged me to turn back now pushed me to move towards the staring legless man. With my hand still in my pocket, I collected every coin I felt and oh, a note. When I got close, I reached down to set some change in his cup. He grabbed my wrist and I immediately looked up and stared straight into his eyes. Then I stared back down. Coffee? I pulled my hand back up just before I could release the coins and note into the cup filled with coffee.

“Show us, then,” the legless man whispered into my ears.

I pulled free, releasing myself from his firm grip. I was confused at the words he had used but OMG! I was more confused and shocked for a moment when I turned around. The gritty feeling of the sand was gone. In fact, the entire beach was gone. No happy couple, no lonely man staring at his phone and then, the sky. No one; the walkway was gone along with everyone. Everyone except I and the legless man. I looked around for a while and then turned back to the …

What a miracle! He was healed and now had two legs. His hairy legs that were exposed by his shorts.

“Oh my, I must be going crazy,” I whispered to myself.

I had every reason to turn irrational.

“Oh!” I slapped my head, “you drank too much last night!”

I turned back to where the walkway laid, where all the people sat and walked and then, it appeared. What was happening? A dream? A game? Some sort of a trick? I stood, confused, surprised. Then, it all came back to me.

“Last night!” I yelled out.

I began to walk up and down the beach which had appeared again. I began to ran towards the car park. As I ran past the man who used to be legless, he repeatedly shouted the words, “show us, then!”

“Oh no, I’m not going crazy. He is crazy,” I said and kept running to find my black Benz.

When I found it, I hurriedly unlocked it and grabbed my phone. I called Stanley, he was there.

“Stanley, tell me, what happened last night?” I questioned as soon as he answered the phone.

“Last night?”

“Yeah, last night?”

“Look man, I told you to leave 'cause I had a gig but you were already drunk so I locked you in.”

He locked me in? m

Meaning I was there alone? Or maybe it was just the alcohol making me imagine things. Why was I even making a big deal out of it? I relaxed and took in deep breathes to calm down.

He continued angrily, “when I came back, you were gone and so was every drop of wine I had on the shelf.” “Thanks, man,” he added but I could tell he did not mean it.

I got out of the car with the phone in hand. I ran back to the beach; it was still there and so was everyone else. Unlike many other days, the beach was quiet and quite empty. I turned around to leave. Suddenly, the noise behind me grew louder. I turned to the beach again and with shock I realized that hundreds, in fact, thousands of people had gathered at the beach. Some in the water, others on the sand and many on the walkway where I stood. “Stanley? Are you still there?” I asked quite frightened as I kept staring at the large crowd of people.

“Yeah man, what’s up with you?”

What’s up with me? My lady had rejected me, the first time I tasted hard drink, I got myself drunk and now I was at a beach with numerous people which somehow appeared when I thought of it.

“Look man, if it’s about last night, I don’t know. The only words I allowed you to say were ‘I wish I could make things happen’. Yeah, I think that’s what you said before I locked you in,”

Stanley sounded less angry now and I was still shocked.

“And you left your coat,” he added before ending the call.

I stood, still staring at the beach. I hated to be there whenever there were a lot of people. Then, from a distance I could see a lifeguard tower. I thought of something, and it happened. From where I stood, I could see a young lady and her son ran towards the tower. They kept pointing at the water as the lifeguards ran after them into the large crowd of people that swam in the water. I watched as a guard went underneath the water and came out with a boy. For the first time ever, I had witnessed someone being rescued from drowning at the beach and I had made it happen. I ran away, into my car and off. What had I done? What was going on? I trembled as I drove onto the main road. The cars were many, the heavy traffic gave me a headache. My phone clinked.

The message read, ‘where on earth are you?’

Whoever sent that must be very angry or worried, I thought. I checked the time. 9:23?

“Damn! I’m going to be late!” I realized.

But no one could move; everyone on the road was stuck in the traffic. Then, what Stanley said about what I had said came to mind.

“I can make stuff happen?” I thought.

I looked out through the window and saw how far the traffic stretched. The numerous vehicles barely fit on the width of the road.

“Nope, only God can!”

But what if I could? All I had to do was to think it first, right? And that was what I did.

“You’re late!” I heard someone yell.

She was running towards me and when she got close, she held me by the hand and pulled me to the elevator. I was puzzled and frozen as to what I had made a reality. I couldn’t even speak but when I turned to her, she was watching me.

“Look, I’m sorry…” I tried to apologize but she cut in.

“You don’t need to say anything. Let’s get this deal and then we can all go home,” she said looking away. “And please, tuck in your shirt,” she added shyly.

“Why? Did you not like the ring I got?” I asked when I regained my composure.

She said nothing and as soon as the elevator’s door opened, she pushed me out.

“Finally,” Jeremy, who had been waiting said relieved. “Where on earth have you been?” he asked but I had no answer for him. Probably, he sent the text. He place his hand in my hair and fixed it up and then he took off his coat and helped me put it on. It had no match with my trouser but who cared. All that was needed was that deal. I was pushed inside the room where men and women with serious faces sat. Oh no, I had forgotten all my lines. At that moment I wished I was outside getting some fresh air and even before I could blink and open my eyes, I stood outside the tall building where I worked.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” I said silently as I rushed back inside, into the elevator and to what floor?

What was this? A curse or a gift? “But we need this deal,” I cried as I stood stranded in the building I had been working in for seven years. I came out of the elevator and began to use the stairs back down. I closed my eyes and found myself on the sofa in my house when I opened it. Well, I had sort of become used to it. Whatever I thought of, whether small or big would become a reality. I could create my own reality? I place my head down and closed my eyes to sleep waiting to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. Then, the door bell rung. Lazily, I got up to open it and there she stood. I thought I could never see her again.

“What happened back there?” she questioned softly.

So everything was real? From the beach to the office scene? That all I had to do was to think and it would simply come to exist. She stood there waiting for a response but I could not take my eyes of her beautiful face. Then, I remembered last night when I went on a knee to ask her to marry me. I had been planning that for years, to be precise, two years. I knew she would say yes; I was super confident and sure about that. I could not remember the rest of what happened at that restaurant, her favorite. But if I woke up blue, then it was certain what happened. There she stood, before me. I imagined a world filled with peace and laughter, with her by my side as my wife. A bright place and even when it was night, there was light. In a house we worked hard to build up from scratch and when one entered through the front door, he could see pictures of our happiest days and feel emotions of pure happiness. With our kids running around. Children we would name after her late parents. And a garden, a beautiful one filled with all the flowers she loved.

Then I closed and opened my eyes…

4:58. As usual, he woke up before the five o’clock alarm and sat up on his bed for nearly half an hour. He had a lot running through his mind yet only God knew all the thoughts of his mind and desires of his heart. It was still quiet and he wished, oh how he wished it would stay that way. All he had to do in the day was to exercise, eat and relax. Of course, it was the weekend. However, he thought of all the work, work and work he would face very soon once Monday struck. He got out of his bed and knelt down before it. How could he begin his day without thanking the God he so feared and revered.

"Amen,” he said silently after less than thirty seconds of kneeling.

As a simple guy, he kept things brief. By now, it was a quarter to six and his phone had been buzzing like a disturbed bumblebee.

"Emelia,” he said with a gentle voice and a dreamy smile.

The love of his life. The apple of his eyes. The sugar for his tea. His heartbeat, huh! The praises were endless on his list. But on his phone, he had saved her contact simply as Emy with a red heart emoji.

‘Hey love,’ the text read.

The smile on his face grew wider and looked much dreamier. He had to reply and fast; he was well aware of how much she hated late replies. ‘Hey there lovely.’

Scratch that.

‘Hello Love.’

Ah, that sounded too ordinary in his ears after he read it out to himself.

‘Bonjour, mon amour.’

He sent the message and stared at the phone for quite a long time waiting for a response.

“She must have fallen asleep again; it’s quite early.”

He threw the phone onto the bed and dropped to the ground. “111…112…113…”

He went up and down effortlessly as he did some pushups. Though, he might have skipped some of the numbers but still, he sweated. The sweat ran down his chest; he was shirtless and was quite masculine, well-built. He knew he had to take a shower but he hated the touch of water on his skin.

‘Was it normal?’ he always wondered.

His mother once took him to the doctors to get him checked. She was sure it was his brain but he thought it was an allergy.

“Allergic to water? You would have been six feet underneath already,” his mother would always scoff.

But it was neither of those. Although he hated being covered by that smelly sweat, he also hated to get it washed. Even so, he gathered all his courage like a mere hunter entering an enchanted forest and took a bold step into the bathroom. Again, as a simple guy, he kept things brief. He was out of the washroom in less than ten minutes. Now, all he had to do was to get dressed and …

Boom!

There was a loud noise outside that broke the silence of the early morning. He quickly wore his short and a simple logo-less T-Shirt. He ran out of his room and out through the front door. There was nothing; no one.

“Good morning, Mister …” a little girl began politely and sweetly, “… whatever your name is,” she ended rudely and laughed a killer laughter.

Oh, so there was someone; ‘the little brat’ as he preferred to call her. Not brat! Brats! It turned out, the little bratty girl had a brother, a twin in fact who was also bratty. It seemed like somehow, they had lured him into their trap; the Good Morning Ride. He did not know how but he found himself on the ground. It felt like he broke something.

“I’m so sorry,” he heard the mother apologize with a not so apologetic tone.

She always appeared out of nowhere and it seemed quite weird to him that she only showed up after her children had carried out their malevolent deed. Well, it was normal. It was not the first, not the second, not the third, not the fourth. Huh, infinity would be the right word to use to cut things short. They were his neighbors. A family of four; now three. He had no idea what happened to the father but since he had not been seen around for quite a long time, he presumed he, that is, the father was out of the picture. However, the last time he checked, which was that very morning, the mother had done a bad job at raising them. He managed to enter his room and shut the door behind him.

“Ignore them, ignore them,” he kept saying on his lips as he entered the kitchen to fix himself a meal.

He was not the retaliative type. At times, it seemed like he reacted to nothing. He was the kind who could receive countless slaps for no reason and yet not mutter a single a word. Or maybe, he was immune to the pain; whether bodily or verbal. Oh no, he was not immune to it. After that hard fall, the pain felt as if he had carried the universe up and down mount Everest. Maybe, he thought not reacting would get them bored and eventually, they would quit. How wrong he was. His first year was like he literally rented an apartment with the sun next door. The second had been the same but this time, the sun was not a fiery coal but freezing ice. “You’re a man! Speak up!” his mother would always yell at him whenever he showed the ‘ignore them’ spirit.

But every man had a breaking point. Even he believed that.

“Ugh!” he shrieked in pain as he had lifted the hot pan with his bare hands. He could never ignore the burns and headache that came with cooking. Cooking was the number one thing on his list of things he hated to do. In fact, if there was any number of value before the number one, he would use it to show how much he hated the activity. Surprisingly, he managed to cook for himself an unburnt breakfast. Oh wait, it was burnt. It was completely burnt on the other side which laid on the plate. At least, one side was perfect; he was going to eat it anyway. On the menu was a toasted bread with scrambled egg and a cocoa tea. The cocoa tea, he got right. The toasted bread…um… well, since the toaster was broken, he had to use the pan and therefore, burnt one side. The scrambled egg, he ruined. The only good thing was he was going to eat it himself, alone, in front of the TV. The TV? The last thing he wanted to do was to pick up the remote and scroll through the endless channels. For some reason, it sounded pretty useless to him. However, he wished to enjoy his breakfast in peace and the noise that came from outside gave him the opposite of that. Before sitting down to eat, he went to grab his phone and scrolled through for any new messages. Nope, not from anyone; not even from his lovely Emy. He walked back to where his breakfast sat on the table; his burnt meal. He stood and looked at it. He sat down to eat as he played music loudly from his phone. Aha, one of his favorites.

“Today I don’t feel like doing anything,” he began to sing along as he chowed down the meal ignoring the after effects of such a food.

And surely, nothing was what he was going to do. As long as he stayed inside, locked his door and ignored everyone, a great day was promised. He sang along loudly and ate and forgot all his worries. Meanwhile, while distracted, his phone buzzed and the screen lit revealing a text from someone with a three-lettered name and a red heart.

“We need to get that scholarship back,” George said loudly as he entered the hall from his room. Georgea was seated on the longest sofa in the hall with her legs in it. She did not make a sound or move a muscle as she was focused on her phone; as always. George came closer and snatched the phone and then, sat closer to his sister. He threw the phone which landed perfectly on the sofa next to the one they were sitting on. That was the only way to get her attention.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” she asked and then, stood up to get her phone back. George pushed her back on to the sofa and firmly held her hands.

“We,” he said pointing to Georgea and then himself. “Remember ‘YEF’?”

He could tell from her facial expression that she did not remember; he went on to explain.

“‘Yen’s Education Foundation’? the people who support the schooling of many young people?”

Now, she remembered but George already knew the question she would ask next so he decided to answer it even before she asked.

“They’ll be visiting our school. I don’t know when but they will. And they’ll be offering scholarships to students who pass their tests.”

“How do you know all of this?” she asked with a curious face, “snooping around?”

“Benefits of being a teacher’s pet,” he responded with a smirk, “I know they’ll be bringing their own questions so it’ll be tough. But with this tip, we have more time to study.”

“Study for what?” Agyei asked as he also entered the hall with his bags.

He had Baby in hand. The weekend was over and Agyei had to return back to the main city for work where he would spend the entire week. As he entered, George and Georgea kept quiet and watched how the adorable little girl clung to her father. Then, Gyaba entered too. She came closer and fixed Agyei’s collar.

"Love you, son,” Gyaba said before taking Baby from his hands.

Then, she left with Baby. She knew that if the little girl saw her father leaving, she would begin to cry.

“You know what. . . thinking about it, I would like to visit dad with you guys,” Agyei said with a smile.

His words and smile place a smile on the faces of his twin siblings.

“Will you even be around for that? I mean, with your work and all,” Georgea wondered.

“Let’s hope by then, I’ll have lost my job,” he said and then laughed.

“Yeah, hopefully,” the twins chorused and also laughed.

He walked towards the door to leave but just as he stepped out, Baby came running towards him. He dropped his bag, carried and raised her high in the air.

“She doesn’t want you to leave,” Gyaba said as she ran after Baby.

“Just go with her already!” George yelled from the hall.

Gyaba went back to pull George’s ear; he screamed in pain.

“Go, get up,” Gyaba instructed, “help your brother with his bags.”

George stood up and went ahead to help his brother with his bags until he got a taxi to the bus station. As brother and brother with Baby walked further away from the house, they stayed quiet. Suddenly, Agyei stopped walking causing George to stop too. He place his left hand in his pocket and brought out some notes of cedi. “Here, take this,” he urged George.

“I’m taking it only because we need it,” George said and immediately took the money.

The two continued walking. “Mr. Nana asked me to come work at the shop during vacations.”

“Don’t stress yourself, Gee. I’ll get another job; a much better one.”

Even though Baby was crying, Agyei entered into a taxi after kissing her on the forehead. George, with Baby in his hand now, watched as the taxi disappeared.

“Stop crying. You’ll see him again very soon,” he reassured the little girl. “Now, let’s go home and we’ll play together. Ha, you like that, don’t you?”

allowed the baby to walk as he held her hand. Side by side, they slowly walked home.

“Dada!” the little girl who could hardly speak said excitedly.

For her, she only had the weekends to see her father and play with him. Before he arrived, Baby and her aunty were making bracelets from colorful and sparkly beads. He walked to her as if he was dancing, carried her and raised her high into the air. Then, the father and daughter hugged each other tightly for a long time. He would usually hold her cheek and smile at her making the little girl laugh. “Oh, there you are,” Gyaba said as she entered the house.

She was coming from the market and hugged her son who still had Baby in hand.

“I don’t deserve your welcome, right, Georgea?”

Georgea, who had seen his brother enter but decided to focus on making stuffs out of beads got up to hug his brother too. As the two held on to each other, George appeared from nowhere. He waved at his brother casting a cold look at him. He waving was his way of saying welcome to his brother, Agyei. However, what he really wished for was his departure. “Okay, I brought something for everyone,” Agyei said to lighten up the mood.

He dropped his backpack and began to take out items from the plastic bag he had in hand.

“This is for you, mom,” he said cheerily and then handed his mother a white and yellow tunic dress.

“This is beautiful,” Gyaba said content with her gift, “how much is it? It looks expensive.”

“It’s not expensive, mother. Besides, yellow on your skin works wonders,” Agyei said avoiding the question, ‘how much is it?’

“And for my beautiful sister, surprise!”

“Is that what I think it is? A drawing book?” Georgea said excitedly.

“It comes with a set of color pencils.”

Georgea excitedly snatched the set of color pencils from her brother and ran around the room with the book in her other hand.

“A beautiful doll for my adorable Baby,” Agyei said while he handed the doll to Baby.

After checking out her new colorful dress, Gyaba entered the kitchen to make dinner. She truly understood the words, ‘a hungry man is an angry man’. In this case, her eldest son was not the man; it was George. As she washed the fish she bought from the market, Agyei entered the kitchen.

“You called me some days ago, crying. You said that you’re going to lose your job. Why not save the money?”

He simply smiled making her aware that he had heard her loud and clear.

“Gyei, this is no joke. We’re in need, son!”

He still stayed quiet and walked closer to his mother. He could feel his mother’s frustration and sadness.

“Why don’t you ask him for some money?” Agyei asked gently.

Gyaba turned to look at him in the eyes. She was almost teary and he could see it. Speaking about this ‘him’ was mostly avoided in that house. The mention of his name made Gyaba angry. She ignored Agyei’s question and focused on making dinner.

“I helped my boss’ son with something and he paid me for it. That’s how I bought all those things,” Agyei responded before leaving the kitchen.

He walked to his room passing by his siblings and daughter who overheard his conversation with Gyaba, their mother. She had taught them not to accept anything from people as a payment for a favor.

“The moment you take it, it’s no longer a favor,” she would always tell them.

One other thing they had learnt from their mother over the past few years was not to ask for more from the ‘him’ who happened to be their father.

“Thanks for this,” George said, not arrogantly as he entered his brother’s room through the open door.

Agyei simply smiled at him and turned away. He moved around his room as he unpacked his bag; he was staying for the weekend.

“Will you come with us to visit dad?” George asked suddenly.

He had been standing at the gate for several minutes watching his brother unpack. Agyei signaled his brother to come sit with him on the bed which he obeyed.

“I can’t,” he answered and stayed quiet. “Promise me something,” he said then looked at George who sat by his side, “that you’ll take care of mom and love her like he couldn’t,” he added.

“You’re talking like you’re going to die,” George said rashly offended by his brother’s words, “plus, dad loves mom,” he continued and then stood up to leave.“By the way, thanks for the shirt,” George said before leaving the room.

Like a ritual, the company laid off some employees depending on their current worth to the company. Agyei’s name was on a short list of employees who were counted as having little importance to the company. All he did was ran errands, like an errand-boy. Finding a job in the city was a headache. He already had a lot to think about; a lot of payments.

“Money! Money! Money!” Agyei yelled frustrated as he returned to unpacking.

“Thank you very much for your help,” she said before ending the call.

Looking frustrated, she place her phone on a table and walked briskly to the kitchen as she began preparing something. That would be their dinner. She had contacted almost all of her friends to help her get a job but all she got was ‘sorry friend’ from everyone. Her mind was occupied with a lot of things. Her eldest son was on the verge of losing his job, they needed money for their rent, supplies and oh, the school fees. She was asked never to step a foot in the mall where she worked as a cashier after her quarrel with a customer.

“But she started it,” she heard herself explain to her manager.

Thinking about all of this made her very anxious and weak. She was deeply lost in her own thoughts.

“Ugh!” she screamed in pain as she burnt her hands.

She quickly dipped her burnt hand in some water and stared out through the open window. She kept staring as she saw some children in their school uniforms walk by.

“It’s three already?” she asked herself as schools around usually closed at three pm.

Then, she saw her own children coming from a distance. She quickly removed her hands from the water and resumed to cooking. Expectedly, she heard the front door open as the twins walk through.

“Welcome home, dearies. How was school today?” Gyaba said with a smile.

“Fine,” George said and then walked into his room.

“As always,” Georgea completed her twin brother’s sentence and also walked into her room leaving her shoes in the hall and her school bag in the couch.

As the two left, Gyaba’s smile disappeared and she focused on her cooking. Then, her phone began to ring. She answered it quickly hoping it was one of her friends to offer a job.

“Hello, mom,” she heard a familiar male voice call out.

She removed the phone from her ear and looked at its screen. It was her eldest son and she had saved the contact as ‘Agyei’. “How are you doing, son?” she asked concerned.

“Good, mother. I’m still alive,” he said laughing making his mother laugh too.

As the mother and son talked on the phone, George entered the kitchen. Knowing very well who his mother was chatting with, he gave his mother an angry-man look. The weekend was approaching and George knew that his brother would be coming home, as he did on every weekend. However, the problem was he had grown to not tolerate his big brother. In fact, just seeing him ruins his entire day.

“Hopefully, this time around he’ll take his daughter with him when leaving,” George said loud for his mother to hear but not loud enough for his brother to hear him.

“Tell him his daughter destroyed my book and I need a new one,” he added with a commanding voice to his mother.

Gyaba looked on as George took the last two slices of bread and walked out from the kitchen. George knew that if big brother was coming then he would not come empty handed.

“Clean your room, lady,” George said as he entered his sister’s room after knocking gently on the door.

He kept one slice of bread to himself and the other, he threw to his sister which she caught and took a bite. As usual, she had her headphone on and the loud music she was playing could be heard by George as he sat close to her.

“I said clean your room,” he said again as he removed the headphone from her ears.

“I will,” she said calmly as she got up to dump the bread crumbs in the bin in her room, “when I get the time,” she continued.

“He’s coming,” George said looking sad.

“Who’s coming?” she asked as she looked through her phone.

He snatched it from her and began to look through it. She tried to get it back but he raised it up high and she could not reach it.

“Well, you are the one who has issues with him. Even Baby likes him,” she said as she struggled to reach the phone.

“That’s because he’s her father.”

She pushed him hard and he landed on the bed. She jumped onto him and snatched her phone back. The two began to laugh at each other as they sat up on the bed.

“Gee, solve your issue with him and maybe he could be your best friend,” Georgea said holding her brother’s shoulder.

“Best friend? Gee and Gyei?” he said shaking his head. He continued, “Gee and Gea sounds better.”

He resumed laughing and so did Georgea. As he looked away, she picked up one of her pillows and hit him with it. As he regained his posture, he picked up the closest pillow and hit her too. The two continued to hit each playfully and giggled as they enjoyed each other’s company. The door to Georgea’s room opened slightly as Gyaba took a peek. Her face had a broad smile and she was filled with happiness as she saw her children happy and playing.

“Red? Or white?” he asked as he showed his sister the two different colored shirts he had in hand.

“Red,” she said bluntly without taking her eyes off her phone. Right there and then, he threw the white shirt in the sofa and wore the red one. He began to look around the room as if he was searching for something.

“Where’s the book I left here?” he said almost furious since he hated to search for things.

His sister, Georgea kept herself busy with her phone which she allowed no one to touch. Without looking, she could feel her brother’s frustration as he paced around the room searching for his notebook. “Look at the baby,” Georgea said still looking at her phone.

“What have you done?!” he said furiously and then moved towards the innocent baby.

He stretched out his hand and pulled away his book. The innocent baby, had apparently seen his book as the perfect surface to scribble and make sketches of whatever she had in mind. He became filled with rage when he flipped through the pages and realized she had used the pen in her hand to write on almost every page. He snatched the pen from her hand and threw it away.

“See what you’ve done! Your father better get me a new one,” he said raged to the baby who just stared at him.

Suddenly, the quiet baby began to cry and it was loud. Her cry made him angrier but he did not know how to shut her up.

“Her cry is like loud music yet I hate it. Shut her up already,” Georgea said finally looking away from her phone.

“I don’t know; what do I do?” he said confused and disturbed by her cry.

“Oh, my baby,” their mother said.

She came out from one of the rooms holding a box. She dropped it and rushed to carry and soothe the crying baby. “Stop crying, dear,” she said calmly and then turned to the two.

“What did you do?” she asked looking angry.

The two began to narrate what had happened but she would not listen. In fact, she began to sing to the baby who seemed calm now and turned a deaf ear to the two.

“Well, in short, I need a new book!” the boy, still angry said. He moved away and took a bag from the sofa then began to walk towards the door as his sister followed.

“And where are you going, young man?”

“Remember? I need to meet with Kwesi for our project.”

Yes, she had forgotten as always. He opened the door and as he was about to step out, he turned to Georgea and the two performed their well-practiced handshake which was very interesting to watch. They end with a hug as their mother and the baby watched.

“Be careful and be back early,” Gyaba, their mother said looking serious still holding the baby in hand.

“Don’t worry mom. I’ll be careful not to get you another grandchild. Maybe in the future but not now,” he said rebelliously and then closed the door behind him.

Gyaba’s serious face turned into a disappointed one and Georgea stood behind her smiling. Then, Georgea began to walk away.

“Where to?” Gyaba asked.

She decided not to answer her mother by pretending not to have heard her question. She kept walking towards her room but when she was almost there, she turned to her mother who stood at the same spot.

“I’m going into my room, put on my headphone and play some loud music, so that when you call me, I won’t hear you,” Georgea also said rebelliously still smiling.

True, she went into her room and shut the door behind her. She jumped onto her bed which was covered with her clothes. Generally, her entire room was a mess. At least, she did find her headphone and began to listen to loud music. For a moment, she felt happy and satisfied but the next, she felt sad. However, she did not know why. Who was she kidding? She knew; she knew why she was sad. Her family used to be happy. Happy? They were perfect and now, well, they were broken. She got up from her bed and moved to the mirror in her room. She looked at herself, her sad face. For so long, she had played as the happy satisfied girl. The strong one, the unbothered one but, all that pretense was killing her inside. She looked at her face and then she saw tears rolling own her cheeks. This shocked her as it had been a long time since she cried. She touched her tears and wiped it off immediately. Then, after composing herself, she looked at her face again in the mirror and faked a smile.