Returning home

Wow, just wow. After I made myself believe that I can actually take control and continue from where I stopped I hear this! Do they know what I am going through with this news? How? How will I pull through? Just how exactly do I do that?

Well, I am getting discharged today. I can walk properly now, I guess all the therapy at rehab actually paid off. I have been trying really hard to remember something, anything, but things just remain as there were. The part that gets on my nerves the most is that I still see myself as a thirteen year old girl but in reality I am a nineteen year old who has been in asleep for three years and stuck with memories back dated by three years, well that's great isn't it?

But just like my mum said, 'be grateful to god for life' for real I am thankful for waking up after two years of being coma and miraculously finding my way back to life. But indeed I have paid quite a heavy price for the life I am living.

I closed my eyes and allowed the cool air sweep across my face through the car window as the scenery outside kept disappearing backwards; they faded just like my memories. Still, I am very much beyond relieved that I no longer have to endure the nauseating smell of antiseptic each day. My parents are taking me back home now although I am certain that this will not be the home I am familiar with and I am guessing my younger siblings are already back in school because they aren't with me right now. Apparently, Emelie dreams of joining the military and decided to attend a military secondary probably to physically and mentally prepare him adequately for the path he has decided to take. This fact explained a lot because although I am four years older than he is, he actually treats me like I am younger one, like a kind, protective big brother and physically he is taller than I am and broader. Then again maybe my two year absence may have forced him to grow more mature too quickly and take on more responsibilities too. I miss the old him, I remember him as a very lively, mischievous child who did nothing but talk all the time and annoy shit out of me like the Gemini he is but now, he is quiet and very gentle. Either way I am very proud of who he has become and having a big strong military brother would be cool after all.

I tried asking my parents and even siblings how I got myself in a hospital and they said that I was involved in a fatal car accident. For some reason, I find it quite difficult to believe them. They were obviously hiding something from me and I really want to know. I feel like I am just wandering about in an empty white space full of light that could blind one if they looked too hard and of course that has forced me to close my minds searching eyes and unconsciously embrace the comfort darkness, for now.

Every one of us are relieved that I am alive and well but still we experienced trauma in different ways and it still has its effects on us and for that reason I will not push them so hard. I will make them believe that I am painting this white emptiness with happiness and new memories until the day they decide that they are willingly to pull me out, out into the reality of truth.

I know that they expect me to go back to normal and act like nothing happened, and also accept the road ahead without looking back, at least that is what my parents want me to do. From what I remember, apart from my parents’ faces' nothing really changed about them. They were the distant career oriented power couple. Even now, I do not see much interaction between my younger siblings and my parents but mum still being a mother naturally has her attention directed at us but still there is an invisible wall that has always been there and even, after all this time it is still there. I guess they got so used to it and forgot that that wall isn't supposed to be there in the first place. They got too used to that fact that we are not as close as we should be. I always thought that one day they would realize the impact of this lack of presence from them but I can see that things got worst instead. Now we are suffering because of the lack of communication.

The car came to a halt in front of an overly beautiful white house with dark brown accents. Honestly my family was never below average but this was too much. Literally speaking, this house is a mansion I never expected to see something like this coming from my parents especially in the bustling city of Lagos. This house alone must cost millions, nothing compared to the bungalow we had back at Enugu but I believe I am not ready to start asking questions about that. As beautiful as this mansion is, it still actually has a distant feel to it. Maybe it’s just me but I feel zero warmth coming from this house, for me this does not feel like a home. It is Just an ostentatious piece probably to make a good impression on people. When did we climb this high up the social ladder? Every one of them owes me a really good over the top success story. But it does not really matter. As long as my family is with me, I’ll be at home. My room was upstairs, painted lavender and looks really amazing and the bed is so soft I could sleep right away. Maybe this new mansion is not so bad after all, I could get used to this.

We all sat down on the dining table having dinner silently. Apart from the sounds of cutlery gently hitting against those expensive looking china plates, the only other sound accompanying us was that of awkward deafening silence. The atmosphere was very heavy and quite depressing and it seemed like everyone except Kaima was tiring really hard to stay on the table, it really looks like they do not eat together very often but I am going to break this awkwardness with a nice table conversation starting with-

"So Kaima how was school today?" I am doing my best to sound as enthusiastic as possible and not sound fake and I am going for the only person who is the most approachable at the moment.

"It was cool and I joined the female football team today" She immediately perked up and spoke about her day. My mum gave a small smile as she looked up at her. Kaima's happy expression slightly wavered as she locked eyes with mum but she swiftly turned to me and gave me another smile before fully turning her attention to her food. And we are back to square one: awkward silence. This is, once again, depressing. I lost my appetite but before I could drop my fork into my almost empty plate of sumptuous jellof rice, Emelie suddenly stood up and he says

"I'm full" With that he turns and leaves but he stops in his tracks as dad order's him to.

"Chukwuemelie, you barely touched your food” And with that he turned with a face as serious and as cold as ever.

"Dad, I am full. Today was rough. May I go now?" He did say polite words but his tone was full of restrained anger? Why? My dad just stared coldly at him and at that moment I could see just how much they looked like each other. Without waiting for my dad's answer he turned and went up the stairs.