There are three things Deborah love: stargazing, sewing and Eric — her best friend. However, only the first she easily has within her grasp while the other two she struggles to keep and claim. Finding Us is more than just a story: it's also a relatable journey to self-discovery with harsh turns and the need for a happy ending. DISCLAIMER: certain events/scenes might be found triggering, therefore, the reader's discretion is advised.View More
To my dearest readers,I know not many will read this, but to those who will, I hope you receive my message well.I’ve been wanting to write something at the end of this book. An author's note was what I had in mind: a note where I merely deliver my gratitude to you all for devoting your time to this book and also inform you of my plans for it. But as the ending drew nearer, the idea didn’t sit well with me. It wasn’t until I was editing the last few chapters, that I realized what I wanted to do.I made a Facebook and WhatsApp post recently, stating my latest discovery about my books being letters that I write to myself before releasing to the world. (It's true. I write to myself, before I write to you.)So with that in mind, I decided to write you a letter. I don’t know how long this will be, but hopefully, it won't be too long to bore you to death. Lol.When I decided to write ‘Finding
Amanda's birthday is only two days away, and Annie and I want to surprise her. We told the guys, who are in on the plan, and so have been on a hush-hush around her. Although I suspect that Amanda knows we're up to something, Annie says I'm being paranoid.“What do you think Amanda would like as a present?” Dare asks as we enter the gift shop.“I don't really know,” I reply. “If you asked me what Annie likes, I'll tell you it's a headband straightaway. That, and lots of chocolate. But with Amanda, you can never really tell. She doesn't obsess over anything the way I obsess over music and Annie over novels. She's always this meh,” — I shrug — “kind of girl.”He exhales loudly. “That's the same problem I'm having. It's like she's hard to impress.”“Yeah.”We find some beautiful gift wrappings and balloons that we buy.Luckily, Amanda's birthday is on a Sunday (which is in two day
After Eric manages to have a bath, the guys disinfect the wound and help him to the bed where he sits.Because they're finished, I tiptoe into the room like the coward I am. Unable to stomach how bad he looked, I vomited in one of the bathrooms and was told to stay outside till they were done.Eric's eyes are closed, and I'm about to leave when he speaks, “This is why you should stick to sewing.”I turn to see his one good eye is opened. Chuckling nervously, I sit beside him.“Chai. See your eye. How are you feeling?” I ask.“Like I'm sitting on pins and needles. My whole body hurts.”“Sorry.” I pout and pat his shoulder. “Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?”He nods, takes my hand and interlaces our fingers. My heart skips a beat, but I don't pay any attention to it this time.“Why did those idiots beat you up?” I ask.
Annie and I throw ourselves at Amanda when she arrives at the door, almost making her fall back as she laughs.“You people should not kill me o,” she says before we pull away.“I was already planning how I'll come to your house and beat you up if you don't show today,” Annie says, and Amanda chuckles.Just then, Amanda's parents arrive at the stairs with the rest of her bags.“Good morning, sir. Good morning, ma,” Annie and I greet as we hurry over to help them.“God bless you, my children,” Amanda's dad says as they leave the bags for us.We take Amanda's bags to her room and come out to meet her parents — since she said they had something to say to us.“First of all, I want to thank you two for what you're doing for our daughter,” Amanda's dad says. “As a parent, I'm ashamed that I can't even provide for my own child and have to depend on you two.” His eyes water,
Thunder rumbles as it pours heavily outside. Luckily, I have a hoodie on (Eric’s hoodie). I didn’t know it was going to rain, so I wore a short-sleeved blouse, which didn’t save me from shivering when it started to rain. Eric had removed his sweater and handed it to me. When I refused it, he dumped it on my head and went away.Classes ended thirty minutes ago, and I'd have been on my way home if Eric didn't leave for his departmental meeting. While waiting, I spotted Dare at the front of the hall. He saw me too and waved before coming over to sit with me.“So she won't be coming to school again?” Dare asks.“Annabel and I told her to come. It'll not pass we'll pay for her T-fare and also share our food with her.”“Aww. That's so nice of you guys.” He pulls me close and pecks my forehead.I giggle and he lets go, laughing.“Honestly, you guys did well. Amanda is a very intelligent la
Staring at my mirror makes me realize how much weight I've put on. Although it's not impossible to have added this much weight. If I wasn't munching on a snack I bought, I was either rummaging the fridge for something to throw into my mouth or checking the cupboard for something to cook — that is if there's no already-cooked food at home.I notice how flabby my stomach is and try to tuck it in. This makes it difficult for me to breathe, so I heave out a sigh.“Don't worry; before two weeks, I'll lose all of these,” I tell myself with a grin.After closing my Bible, I pen the last question I have and then shut my journal.Before I left home, the Head-pastor and I talked about a few specific things I could do when less busy. These things are habits that are very necessary to aid my growth into a better person. These include reading my Bible and journaling my thoughts and findings: at the end of the week, I d
I'm slumped on my bed, about to doze off when Joy wakes me.“Dad is calling you.”The journey back from the church's headquarters was crazy long. Although I wasn't the one driving, my body weighs like a bag of cement. And all I want to do is sleep. Not talk.Mom and dad are in their room, so I knock before I'm being told to enter.While mom is unpacking, dad is going through his drawer in search of something.“You sent for me,” I say.He looks up at me before closing the drawer. “Your mom said you're the one that packed my other bag. Where did you keep my shaving stick?”“It's in your bag.” I go over to the bed, open the side-zip of his bag and take out the shaving stick.“You'll be going back to school tomorrow, correct?” he asks as he collects the shaving stick.“Yes, sir.”He tilts the shaving stick over and over
It's easier said than done: forgiving oneself, that is. Because when the time comes, the internal struggle makes those words sound so stupid.When the Head-pastor asked me if I could forgive myself, I hesitated. And when I finally replied, I told him maybe. That I wasn't sure.Why? Because it was when he asked if I could forgive myself that I realized just as Eric was wrong for having sex with me, I'm also wrong for letting him. Eric didn't rape me. I've been so angry at him that I didn't think to ask myself who gave him the green light.No one can disrespect you if you don't give them a reason to. I motivated Eric to do what he did. I'm the reason I was used that way.“Achoo!” I shiver on my bed as my mom touches my forehead.“I don't think this is only catarrh,” she says. “It seems like malaria.”“Malaria ke?” I ask. “How come?”
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