Every Good Thing

It had been a long time since anything good had happened to Didi.

Even now it proved that the world had stopped spinning for her, with Abigail her younger sister standing in front of her, left hand on her waist, right hand holding the red heeled shoe. She held a sneer in her face, anger in her eyes and in that moment, the wave of hatred for Abigail crashed over Didi, so deep, so intense that she wished Abigail dead.

There was no sign of the little girl who had looked up at her elder sister like a heroine, who had always looked to her for approval, who had always asked her advice about boys. No, all that was left was the anger wasted on a useless furniture. That was what Didi had become, a useless furniture. Everybody knew it.

The headache struck again, a thin reedy thing that appeared whenever she tried to use her mind or her brain, like it was protesting the strange sensation of being used after years of idleness. All she wanted was to lie down again and continue wallowing. It was what she did best now, what she was known for; the girl on the bed. It was a wonder she hadn’t developed bed sores, the way she was always on her bed, for two straight years.

She was tempted, tempted to leave Abigail there and escape into that vast cocoon of nothingness called sleep but Abigail was screaming now and soon, their mother would walk in and things would get worse.

“It’s okay na.” she said in irritation to Abigail, her voice hoarse. It was the first time she was speaking since morning.

It had been a mistake. Abigail’s nostrils flared and she stood straight, her voluptuous boobs quaking in indignation. The fire burned in her eyes and she opened her mouth to speak just when their mother, a black skinned woman walked in.

“What is it? why are you people disturbing this house?” She asked, standing beside Abigail, glancing at the red shoe still in her hands.

“Nothing.” Didi said, hoping to avoid the avalanche that would come crashing down now that their mother was involved, the side-taking that would tear at her heart, blaming her for this her stupid insistence on being hurt. She should be used to it by now.

“Mummy look at my new shoe I just bought, shoe that I have worn only once.” She shoved the shoe into their mother’s face as evidence, pointing at the brown stains at the heel, “She wore it and got mud all over this shoe. And it’s suede. Now what will I do? Shoe that I bought for 7k.”

Their mother plucked the shoe and held close to her face to see clearly, squinting in the evening light. Her mouth turned down and she glared at Didi, “What is wrong with you sef? Why did you wear it on a muddy ground? Eh?”

Didi stood awkwardly, uncertain what to with her hands. How did it come to this, that she would be reduced to a blubbering mass of awkwardness before her mother and younger sister? The tears that were never far off welled up in her chest and she took deep breaths to tamp it down, adopting a hard stance and a sneer on her face so they wouldn’t see the shattering of her chest.

She remembered how their mother had danced around and blessed her the day she bought her the expensive asoke with the money she saved from her NYSC allawee.

Abigail flung the shoe at her, missing her by only a couple of inches. “Oya take it. Take it and eat it.” she growled angry as she went to her side of their shared dresser, packed with beauty products, edge control, facial cleansers and wipes, a full makeup bag complete with the Mary Kay foundation that had become too expensive, everything and more.

Didi glanced away from her own sparse empty wardrobe, containing only the almost empty Vaseline tub that their father had thrown out when it was almost finished. She took tiny slabs of the cream every day and only applied it to her face and legs to extend its use.

It had been a long time since any good thing had happened to Didi. She did not expect it to change anytime soon.