(Undergoing some much needed editing!)
Sasha Williams is NOT your stereotypical rich girl who struts about the hallways with Louboutins.
All she wants, this final year, is to stay with her best friends, binge-watch movies, be the best wing woman a...
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"Mama I'm home" I holler from the doorway as Georgina helps me remove my coat and Merida book bag.
I happily skip towards my parent's bedroom and I hear Georgina's faint chuckles behind me.
"Mama—" I begin but stop outside the door when I hear the soft sniffing and clinking sounds of ice moving around a glass.
I press my ears against the closed doors and try listening more but the sniffs and quiet sobs are the only things I can hear.
I turn the doorknob and swiftly open the door. The room is dark and dingy, some expensive clothes lie haphazardly on the floor and the faint smell of vanilla and sweat wafted through the air.
"Claude? Is that you?" I hear my mom's melodic voice and relief fills me.
"Mama...It's me, I'm back home" I say happily and move towards the place where her voice came from.
Just as I reach the small corner of the room which has a round table, I hear the loud crashing of glass. I scream out of panic and call out for my mother.
"Sasha, honey...Go to Georgina...Don't come here now" she says in a broken voice.
I stand there, still not able to make out her face because of the darkness, and tears roll down my eyes. I ran out of the room, still crying frantically, thinking that something bad was happening to or with my mum.
I wake up, my body drenched in cold sweat after I relive the last memory I had of my mother before she left us and much before she died.
It wasn't a very pleasant one as you can tell.
Panic sets in on me, like every other time when I see her in my mind.
I call out for my dad, out of habit, but I hear no one. I call out for Georgina but quickly realize that she's at her own house.
My mouth suddenly feels dry and my throat hurts. It seems like I've been screaming while going through that memory. The darkness of my room suddenly makes me fearful and so I turn on the small lamp on my bedside table.
The amber light from the small yellow lamp allows diffuses throughout the room, giving me a small sense of relief.
All tiredness and sleep within my system evaporates and my body is alert and jittery. And I hate it.
My heart is beating in my chest at an extremely fast cadence and my breathing becomes heavy.
I have no one to call out, no one to talk to, no one to comfort me at this time of the night.
I've never felt more alone than I do now.
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