So after taking a stroll round the world of fiction, I'm back here. Though I'm not still sure how this works, I'm gonna drop this here. "Everything I Never Had" is a short fiction, I mainly write short fictions. It captures the heart of a certain lady, Eniye, what she wanted, which she thought she had but realised she never really had it.

I hope we get the best out of it.

I don't know who I am anymore. A criminal, A novice, a psychopath, a timid monster, I wonder who's correct. I see the social media thread that displays my picture and I'm forced to applaud their analysis. I'm a beautiful girl, so beautiful that I don't blame those that call me a witch. Maybe I am. I could be possessed but know it not. Only a demon will smile after all I did, but it wasn't only a smile, I let out a laughter that only my throat felt because my stomach rejected it, all the while sitting before my mother in the dimly lit room, her eye balls hung lazily in their sockets as always.

My heart burned within, suicide filled the wooden table between us while my mother spoke, but I had exhausted my emotions, I was done crying, I was done feeling pains, I had a shell, thick enough for my skin and my heart. I would have loved to show some emotions, cry maybe, shed a little tear, it could earn me sympathy from the people on Mark Zuckerberg's invention, ranting like they knew me from Adam. I sit here searching my being for the predominant me, the me I really am, especially when inmates ask me, "what can you possibly be capable of?" And all I can say is "everything." Though many years ago, I would have said "nothing."

In the movies, the birth of a child is always glorious, I look at the faces of the new parents lit up, teeth being splashed all over the screen, some who are drawn by the innocence of the little figure cry alongside the baby and then I wonder what the atmosphere was like when I was born.

My imagination could only see the "nothing excites or bothers me" look on the face of my Father, as he stood looking at my little self, probably pink. While my mother only had a faint smile of a dying woman trying to encourage her child, other times I imagined her kneeling in the hospital, her hand moving back to front as if hitting a black board, while uttering statements in a way that only one syllable was heard, as in "ne..., je..., ty..., sus." Sometimes a word will be heard "fashioned..., Lose..., Fire..." It is the way she prays. I thought maybe the news of my birth was as devastating as that of daddy going to pay another woman's dowry. Mummy had prayed that friday for so long, loudly at some points and whispering at other times. While whispering it was hard to tell if she was still praying or had begun to sob, until you'll hear her roar again.

It was the last time I heard her voice so loud. Maybe she realised God didn't like to be screamed at.

I had looked forward to that wedding ceremony, only because I desired to peep into my parent's wedding, did daddy ever smile? The answer I got was an unapologetic 'No". I thought there was something wrong with mummy Rita for letting herself be the second wife of a man who couldn't show a bit of an affection. My Aunt Linda who I told the marriage wasn't like those in the movies had said what we see on screens are a figment of people's imaginations, they put out their fantasies for us to watch, and that it really isn't so. I took it. It seemed like a wise counsel. One that wasn't wrong but unintentionally robbed me of my senses.

As you can see I thought a lot of things. My thought was my companion. I looked and analysed what I saw in my mind. I didn't ask questions, I made up stories of the parts I didn't see.

When mummy starts cooking Banga, I thought of daddy giving her a pat on the back like he does to me every time I pulled the First position strings in class. Once she had made Banga and had not come out of Daddy's room all night, while mummy Rita walked to and fro the kitchen. It bothered me that I could almost see through her, it was obvious she wasn't busy with something in particular. I scanned her face before I retired to my room for the night, knowing it will keep me busy while I tried to find sleep.

I had stayed awake in my spring bed and analysed the facial expression of mummy Rita. Lips pushed forward, cheek sliding in and out, evidence of the inside flesh being cut off by a small portion of the teeth. Her brows often close to each other due to the downward squeeze on her forehead. She had shoved her twins into the room a little too hard. She was worried about something.

I was woken up the next morning by a lazy shove from my mum.
"Eniye get your things out and pack into this box"
I sat up on my bed and saw a red wooden box lying close by. I would have asked questions like "why?" But I didn't.
"What exactly should I pack up?" It was the only question I knew I was permitted to ask.
"Everything... Everything you have" Her words hung on the air. I wondered if she was also still pondering on her words and how they came out dryly and without much sense.

I folded my clothes, same way I feel my life is being folded up now. Silence filled our ear drums, something I am used to, mummy never explains anything, she was like daddy and I was like both of them. Maybe they also prefer to have the conversations in their head.

I was 14 when my mum and I moved into the small one bedroom self contain. It was furnished with necessary house hold items. I could tell mummy was seeing it for the first time. That night I had sunk into the bed beside my mother's and narrated to myself the parts my eyes had not seen.

Daddy had to stay with one wife. Pastor Eghosa had visited the previous week and had asked him to obey the Bible, being a man of one wife. He had given mummy so much money to appease the forth coming blow, money she had used to prepare Banga soup.

Mummy Rita had heard Pastor Eghosa when he talked with daddy and had panicked last night when Daddy was perceived to be spending the night with Mummy. But the reality was, he was explaining to her the decisions he had to make. The least he could do was get a house and furnish it.

I thought of my mother on her knees, this time not screaming at God but pleading with her husband. A fruitless plea it obviously was. I was supposedly old enough to live without a father, the twins weren't.

Mummy Rita had found out she wasn't the one leaving, hence the urhobo praise songs that slipped through the openings of her room into our ears in the morning.

When Pastor Eghosa came visiting mummy in our new house, in my mind I had used the frying pan to hit him many times, I had not stopped hitting him when mummy asked that I brought a glass. I didn't know how much hit will satisfy me, so I kept hitting him while I sat and watched the clergy. Pastor Eghosa had lost his life in an accident 6months later. Now I wonder if it was my doing.

Following

When I turned 16, my body started to experience a mystery, my hip bones were shooting sideways, my stomach was going nowhere, I had stood in front of the mirror and wondered if God had taken a day to make adjustments in his creation, adding more flesh at my waist region.

Aunty Linda said my body was taking it's real shape, I didn't know what she meant. More exciting was fact that the guys in school had begun to notice that I was probably more beautiful than the girls who paraded themselves on the school's corridors. I was both proud and shy. Proud because I loved the feeling of being noticed, every girl does, shy because that was my default setting, my mouth was only on fire in that place where only I exist. On the earth, it is tied up.

Raymond came asking for my biology note once while his friends watched. Playing ignorant and unaware of their games excited me to my stomach, while my face held no corresponding expression as I handed him the note. Not long, Hannah was sitting on my desk asking that I escort her to the school's tuck shop. I wondered how it would feel to walk beside the most gutted girl in school, I loved guts because I never had it.

I accepted her offer. Break period came and we walked together, the big boys walked up to us at various times to say hello. I saw faces of girls popping out of class windows to see who was walking with Hannah. I felt elevated and at the same time bothered that I was seen as an innocent girl on her way to being a spoilt brat. I feared for myself though, but I couldn't turn down Hannah everytime she wanted my company. You'd call it peer pressure, but it was the pressure I needed.

SS2 third term's results came and as it has been for three years, I had no dad to pat me on my back for the 1st position but Ray came. His face lit up as he read through the paper I had handed over to him. "Èfico" he had said with that smile that always shook my female classmates, he pulled me to himself, hugging me like I hug my pillow at night. A pat on the back would have been enough, but that hug was more pleasant. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but I got used to it soon. I was hugging everybody, when Ray saw hugs had become my thing, he took a step further, giving me a peck kiss. I didn't want him fully kissing me one day so I made no attempt at going close to anyone's cheek.

I loved my new company, there was no time to spend with my thoughts anymore. A new me was evolving, or had evolved. A new Eniye. Outspoken. Laughed loudly at a joke. Tongue-free around the opposite sex. Unafriad to stare in anyone's eyes. I had run into my dad on my way home from school once, and I had smiled and spoken confidently while my eyes rested on his, analysing the slight shock in his eyes and tone. I wanted him to see how I was doing without him. The timid girl he was making me into had died.

I felt free, free to sing, free to live, free to attend little get togethers held from time to time. I found myself moving my head to Style Plus's "call my name", when I tried dancing, it worked.

Ray had told me to dance to my first position while he danced to his 'fourth'. I felt we were a couple, "a couple of what?" the crazy voice in my head would often ask. Though he never asked me out, I saw loyalty when I'm with him. I could tell he also felt we were in a relationship and we left it that way.

When higher institutions came calling our names, Ray had visited me at home, we spent the afternoon talking about what his University of Port Harcourt looked like and what my University of Benin was about. We knew we were saying goodbye underneath the "we'll keep in touch." We were right, it was the last time I saw Raymond.

TBC

I was a bit scared about going off to the University of Benin. It had taken 3years to fit in at my secondary school and I have just 4years in the university. My mother didn't really say much. "Be careful and wise" was all her tired self could say, spoken out of obligation. I wanted to ask what wisdom is, instead I nodded my head.

She had grown lazier in words, working as a cashier at tabloid prints did her much good, she wasn't required to say much. She barely noticed the change in me, it was either because I mastered the art of having dual personalities, remaining my mother's daughter at home or it was because troubles had blinded her to the person her daughter was becoming. I was quietly watching her fade away in silence, my heart would skip when I imagine myself coming home to find her on the floor of the sitting room, the thought plagued me but I had not the slightest idea on how to change the situation.

I always did a quick prayer for her. "Lord please spare her no matter what." I would sometimes feel my prayer was unnecessary as she was already gone and I am left with nothing. Nothing at all.

First school day, I wore my favourite ash coloured Jean, with a red and white chiffon shirt, that would make one wonder how slim my stomach region was. I had worn a pair of snickers as I didn't want to be dragging a slipper behind or have my sandal cut in a crowd. My make-up was as light as it can be, though girls were on heavy make up, maybe trying to make sure nobody sees them as little girls.

My cousin, Tombra had told me how much sweat was likely going to accompany me back to the hostel. She had spent Sunday night telling me about the crowd I would encounter but my mind could possibly not have imagined what I saw, the whole world seem to be on their way to the school's auditorium. I scanned everyone, observing the pattern. Those who had older people helping them walked straight to the little canopy stands around the vicinity, it made me wonder why Tombra wasn't with me. The morning was supposed to be cool, the sun still had a sleepy look but having someone everywhere I turned made me feel sophocated. I was already thinking my being there was not my best choice. "You could wait it out and let the crowd reduce," Tombra had said.

I was about to consider the option when a certain breeze blew a brother to my side. I had him standing before me while my nerves acted up, pressing the "squeeze the file" button in my brain. Tegha was 6ft plus so he was practically looking down on me with his brown eyes that made me feel he's been observing me. His looks screamed danger yet his first word "hello" made me think he had said "I love you."

Tegha was 6ft plus so he was practically looking down on me with his brown eyes that made me feel he's been observing me. His looks screamed danger yet his first word "hello" made me think he had said "I love you."

"Economic and statistics?" He had asked. His voice had an underlying baritone that called everyone's attention, I was embarrassed seeing that I have only been smiling, and people had started looking. He took my file as he smiled, asking if I had done anything at all. I later realised he was appointed by the student union government to help out with the registration process.

When I told my cousin how I had been marvelously helped, she had given those girly screams I recognised from my secondary school classmates whenever they were talking about Raymond or Uche, though I couldn't tell what exactly excited her, was it me getting over the registration with ease, or the fact that Tegha had played the saviour, who ended up getting my contact? Trust me, I knew the answer.

I layed in bed once again that night with eyes to the wall and sank into a romance with my own thoughts. I wondered what Raymond was doing. I let Tegha take Raymond's place in my secondary school memories. My thoughts were fading into a dream. Raymond and I were dancing, Tegha had come in between us, I didn't mind, I kept dancing to Marvin's "Doro." The song was drawing my soul back to consciousness. It was my phone's ringtone. I woke from the "mini-dream", stared at the strange number, I would be damned if it was Tegha, it was him. He wanted to know how I was settling in. He explained how to get my departmental registration done. When he sensed I was a bit lost, he offered to meet me up the next day at a car park everyone referred to as faculty car park.

I was eager to go for my departmental clearance. Not as eager as I was before going to auditorium the previous day. Tegha was talking to two other guys when I met him, he introduced them as his course mates. He held on a few seconds with them before excusing himself.

Our walk into the faculty was sight seeing for me, I fed my eyes with every detail, the dead looking ACs hanging beside office windows, the beautiful place I later realised was called "love graden" with trees dancing, evidence of good ventilation. Girls were colourfully dressed in comparison to the yellow and blue that filled my secondary school. My eyes fell long on a girl putting on what I would call a long top. You couldn't mistake that for a gown. Another had a light brown shiffon top that dictated to us the colour of her bra, orange. I wanted to say something unpleasant about them, I would have if Raymond was the one walking with me. I wanted to ask if it was normal when I turned and saw Tegha looking at me and smiling.
"What?" I asked.
"It's the university, there's freedom, nobody cares how you use it."

That night, Tegha had called and warned not to misuse my freedom because of what he said. He had figured out his words might just have been taken too deeply to heart and in an extremely wrong way. I had smiled and said "yes sir" in my tiniest voice. That became my way of addressing him. He was warm and yet strict with me. I was quick to erase him as a potential boyfriend in my memory, it felt disrespectful. Especially since he had asked me to come with him to his church, it was more of him telling me, than asking me. He attended living waters church whose building stood a few feet from Uniben's main gate, it had quite a large auditorium. Tegha would make sure I don't miss a Sunday, he called every Saturday night to tell me we'll see in church, not because he had something important to say but to make me have a reason to come around.

I was quick to relax into the system. My worries reduced drastically. It was easy telling him about my family, he identified with my struggles and was ready to help in whatever way I needed. We would sometimes sit in the evenings in faculty car park and talk about anything. He sometimes joked about how he would spoil his wife with love. It wasn't long before I started to put myself in that position. It felt good. Sometimes after church, I would go with him to his room and help him with whatever I could. Cook, clean. All for what he had been to me. I believed there was nothing too much to be done for him.

When my cousin graduated, I didn't have so much money to retain the room, so I had to get a bed space in the hostel. I needed somewhere to stay while that was being sorted out and of course Tegha offered before I asked. I had taken part of my things to his room. It was a self contain in Osasogie, "Osaro hostel" was specifically built for rentage by Uniben students which made Tegha's neighbours students like us. It was a little uncomfortable for me initially, dressing up in the bathroom sometimes, at other times he had gone to a neighbour's room. I could do the cooking without thinking I was doing too much, but sometimes he'll call me to meet him up at food court porpularly known as "buka".

Tegha tried pulling strings in helping me get a hostel space but the strings kept cutting.
"What happens now?" I had asked. I had considered the option of calling my Father, but Tegha had saved me from the trauma of having to explain anything to my dad.
"You can stay here for the session."
"Really?" My heart was jammed up with diverse feelings; excitement; surprise; fear; love. It was actually my best option, if there was any other. But it was just the preamble for the story about a me I didn't know could spring up.

It was the first time I would lay beside a guy on a bed, it wasn't as bad as I had imagined. Tegha and I stayed up late talking about so much both relevant and irrelevant. He told me about his dad putting his mum's belongings outside the house before she got back from wherever she went. He and his siblings never had a chance to say goodbye and they had had to live with the father and his wife for so long. To him, he had permanently moved out of the house when he got into the university.

We also laughed about him being beaten in primary 3 by a primary 6 girl. He would have hated girls if not for some other personalities he's met. "Eniye especially" he had said.

I couldn't hide the smile that went deep down to my soul and had made my stomach's butterfly flutter. I was still smiling when he rolled over and planted a quick kiss on my lips.
"Stay with me." He said staring into my eyes.

I laid numb on the bed, looking and blinking often at the space just close to his face, I knew I had fantasized about this but it was something I never thought would come. Now it's here and all I could think of was my father saying "stay with me." It might be everything I wished for.

When I looked back at him, he dropped his lips on mine, longer this time. I would tell myself I didn't accept anything but I knew I loved the idea. I kissed him back this time. It reminded me of Raymond, I had kissed him at our last time together at my house, it was a goodbye kiss. We had also played with our bodies, laughing all the way. But Tegha, wasn't laughing. It was serious. It was something I couldn't exactly explain. It was a first experience for me. A painful one. I got my hymen broken few days later by the same Tegha.

I had pretended to be asleep the following morning while he prepared for his class. When he shoved me to wake up, I told him I didn't feel too well, I was scared I wouldn't be able to walk well and everyone would know what transpired at night. I knew he understood why I had made such a decision so he didn't push. My friends would definitely call, I had a ready reply for them.

When I was finally alone, I sat up on the bed feeling bad for myself, I wanted to cry, not because I lost my virginity, I just wanted to feel the remorse, but it didn't come. The pain I felt down there was beyond any other pain I had experience in my 22 years but I was surprised at my desire to have him come at me again.