𝔼𝕂𝕀𝕃𝔸

12

Chidiogo shot up from the bed, alarmed on seeing Mmachi heading towards her.

"I–"

Mmachi yanked the book away from her grip before she could say a word more.

The action was so unexpected, the book separated from Chidiogo leaving behind a ripped portion of some pages in her clamped fists and flakes floating around in it's wake.

Still fuming, Mmachi pried the rest of the pages from her hands.

"How many times have I told you to stay away from my room!? And because of you my book is ripped!"

Her eyes were glossy as she tried to put the pages back together, her shaky hands making her work impossible.

Chidiogo could feel tears pricking her own eyes as she watched Mmachi struggle to arrange the book. She hated seeing tears in other people's eyes.

"I'm s–"

"I don't want to hear it. Get out!" Mmachi yelled, smashing her hands against the table with so much force, Chidiogo feared the table would break.

Her skin split on the impact, blood flowing out from the spot. Chidiogo's eyes widened at the sight of blood streaming down the table and landing on the floor in small globules.

Mmachi cussed under her breath, glancing down at her bleeding palm. Her once rheumy eyes had become clear, as though her eyelids had mopped up every single drop of tear in a single blink.

"I'm so sorry. Please we need to talk," Chidiogo rushed out in a single breath but Mmachi didn't seem to pay much attention to what she had said.

Instead, her eyes darted about in a frantic search for something. They landed on the handkerchief Chidiogo had used and discarded earlier just as Chidiogo realized what she wanted to do.

She had already wrapped the cloth around her palm when the words flew out of Chidiogo's mouth.

"No!"

Mmachi glanced up cocking a brow, furrows denting her forehead.

"Don't use that. I used it to clean dust off the book ear–"

A hiss emanated from Mmachi cutting her off, the handkerchief already tumbling out of her grip before Chidiogo could complete her statement.

"Unbelievable," Mmachi said under her breath but Chidiogo heard it.

Pounding footsteps and the sound of objects slamming against the ground followed and soon a tiny purple box was produced from Mmachi's bag. 

Chidiogo watched on as Mmachi pulled out several white cloths from the purple box.

"What did you want to talk about?"

The whizzing of a zip fastener working it's way through the teeth holding the luggage together filled the air for the moment as Chidiogo's brain registered that Mmachi was talking to her.

"You have nothing to say?"

Mmachi gave her box a violent push, watching it buckle before beginning a sluggish journey in the direction of her wardrobe. She watched it with a weary look on her face before giving a sigh and turning to Chidiogo, her left hand positioned on her waist while her right—wrapped in a piece of cloth—hung limply by her side.

Her left foot tapped away on the floor as she stared at Chidiogo waiting for a reply.

"I'm waiting."

"Right." Chidiogo played with the hem of her shirt for a moment before continuing, "It's about mom and well the whole dog thing."

"You lost me after the 'mom' part," Mmachi said picking one of the white cloths she'd pulled out from her box and bending to wipe off the trail of blood from the white tiles.