HER BLOOD IS MINE (The Vampire’s Obsession)

She wasn’t a good girl; no, she was far from it. You could term her prodigal, but she was worse than the prodigal son in the Bible because she never came back home.

Call her disrespectful like every Nigerian mother would, but she never cared; a simple, dangerous glare was enough to keep your mouth shut.

Her anger knew no bounds as she threw her favorite mug on the tiled floor, and it shattered into large pieces.

‘Three more, just three more troubles, and I would leave this Godforsaken house for this witch called a foster parent.

She fought back the tears that had gathered in her eyes and swallowed the anger that made her fists clench.

Maa had just disgraced her in front of the visitors who came. And worsening it, one of the foolish visitors dared to insult her!!

Disgrace!! That was something she couldn’t endure; no matter how hard she clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she always ended up doing something stupid.

She had just angrily walked out of Maa’s visitors.‘Take a deep breath, grab a mirror.’ She calmed herself down even though the aftershocks of her anger still waved in her.

She sat on the bed and picked up her mirror, staring at her own reflection before placing it back in her drawer.

Adjusting the pillow, her head had barely reached when she heard.

‘Ehmm, I’m escorting the visitors. Make sure you cook the rice and beans we will eat tonight. Also, also don’t forget to burn the beans, or I will k·ll you when I am back. The dishes the visitors used should also be washed, and also the compound… Em, if you don’t sweep it, ehh, na me and you today. (I’m going to deal with you.)

‘But Maa, I swept the compound in the afternoon; it’s still clean,’ the girl protested.

‘I said you must sweep it; it is very dirty,’ the unmoved woman answered.

‘Maa, please, I’m having a headache. Can I skip the sweeping? Besides, the compound is still clean’!

‘Oh, so you mean I’m lying?? Before I picked you from the garbage, I had been sweeping, so don’t tell me what to do”the woman said with wide, threatening eyes.

Eyes that the young girl wanted to slap secretly , Anger rushed into the girl’s blood, and her breath became faster.

The woman had just added salt to her wounds by reminding her of her true identity, something she was not even to blame for.

She was assigning impossible tasks for her to do without even getting a rest!!

Maa stylishly walked out of the room with that full pride and high aura most Igbo women tend to have.Then she stopped midway, turning back to the angered girl.

‘Also, NEPA (power supply) is to bring light by four-thirty; make sure you iron the cloth I will use for church on Sunday, onyeara’ (Nigerian Igbo word for a mad person)” She finally left.

The girl’s eyes dimmed in rage and hatred for this woman who was her “foster parent.”She had just explained that she was having a headache, but the woman kept prescribing work for her to do.

If it was another girl, tears could have formed in her eyes, but this particular girl felt only anger and not pity.Maa was a partial drinker who enjoyed drinking and gambling or sometimes invited her friends to a feast, like today.

Maa would surely be back by 8:30pm because the girl was sure that her foster parent was branching to any alcohol and pepper soup joint.

(Minutes later)

She wiped off the sweat on her head while ironing the clothes she was asked to iron. If not because she knew the condition of electricity, she would have left the clothes and begun the cooking.

Finally done with the clothes, she put the beans on the fire and began sweeping the insides of the house.The parlor still had the stench of dry gin, which was enjoyed earlier by the so-called visitors.

She swept, mopped, and arranged the house before finalizing the cooking stage.Her fists began to clench at the sight of the large, clean compound in front of her.

The compound was intact, but Maa would never agree.She walked towards the Shara (dustbin) to throw away the dirt she swept from the inside, including the broken pieces of the mug.

Just as she turned around to make her leave, a piercing pain forced her eyes to bulge.She sat on the ground wincing in pain before pulling the ceramic out of her foot.

A piece of the broken mug had driven into her foot, causing her to bleed profusely.

Dragging herself to her room, she picked up the tweezers on the drawer and pulled out the sharp ceramic piece.

She gently wrapped her wound with the head tie to stop the bleeding, as she was already feeling dizzy.

Having slumped on the bed, her eyes closed, and she began to get herself normal again, not knowing the trouble that was coming after her.

The door opened widely, hitting the wall and also jerking the girl out of the short-lived sleep she was having.

‘Ehhen!! Look at who I told to sweep the compound lying comfortably on the bed!! Hey!! I will k·ll you today. I did not kill my mother, so there’s no—’Maa paused as she noticed the large droplets of blood on the bed and on the floor.

Her eyes dimmed, her hands flying to her head.

‘Hey!!! This girl has killed me too. Which boy did you bring here?? So you were waiting for me to go out so that Somto dude could come to you!!! Chi moo’ ( oh my god) Maa screamed, placing her hands on her head.

The wounded girl got down from the bed, her leg hitting the wall and increasing the pain.

She tripped at every step, and this only made ‘sense’ to Maa: that girl has just been disvirgined!!!

‘Maa, I stepped on—’ The words never came as they were silenced by the rough palm of Maa.

Another slap followed, and she had to lean on the wall support. Maa covered the poor girl with blows and slaps, fueling the already built anger that was in the girl’s chest.

‘I should have never picked you from that bola (garbage); who knows, maybe na Ashawo you be (a prostitute’s child) you be.’ The woman said between her teeth.

The girl grew stiff at the woman’s words.

A prostitute’s child?

This girl didn’t know who her real mother was, but she couldn’t stand to hear her being called a shameless prostitute!

With an unknown strength, she pushed Maa away with great force, and the woman landed on her butt.

‘Then you should have left me there; someone better than you could have found me,’ she fired back to Maa’s surprise.

Her mouth went agape with the girl’s sudden behavior; this girl was sure to die today.

The girl had promised herself to leave if three more of these troubles would happen, and they had.

First, she called her a child of a prostitute.Second, she started thrashing her without waiting to hear her explanation.Third, she insulted her rudely.

Angrily, the girl walked out of the room, making her way towards the gate, and Maa could only feed her eyes with this strange “food”.

It was done; she would rather sleep under someone’s table than stay with this werey ( lunatic) called a foster parent.

‘I will never come back to that house,’ she muttered, fighting back the tears that gathered in her small eyes.

Full of numbness, she walked absentmindedly on the streets of town