Mulenga’s Diary; Chapter 3

Chileshe’s Journal

A year later we had our first real fight. Mum walked in dragging dad behind her as we argued and I remember her saying, it felt like we were brewing a storm with all the tension she found in the room.

She was holding my father by the hand which made me curious, cause as much as my mum and dad love each other, I never saw them hold hands, except for that day. Holding hands for them seemed taboo, an uncommon sight even amidst the chaos.

That was the first time I actually felt like I had Bipolar. It felt like my next breath was going to be catastrophically contagious. Mulenga seemed to tell from my apparrent lack of breathing as I saw her turn to face my mum and dad and asked them to kindly allow us to finish our fight in peace, closing the door behind them.

I never thought the fear in my mothers eyes would terrify me so much, I remember telling Mulenga. Truth is, I paid that doctor to tell my parents I had bipolar. Something to explain my moody behaviour and not get asked about it constantly but today.

Today I saw the look of a woman afraid of what her son would do. This was one of those moments where your parents jokingly throw around whose child you actually belong to between the two of them, to get out of clean up duty. I sat on my bed lost in my thoughts when a pillow hit me square in the face knocking me off my bed.

“This is still a fight, I’m not done being incredibly angry with you.” Mulenga shouted, loud enough to alarm the entire hood. “Why oh why do you think i need you protecting me? Do I have a sign on my head that says helpless?” Mulenga continued to shout as I tried to figure out what exactly just happened. She continued telling me in perfect union with aiming the pillow at me.

“I don’t care if you have bipolar or not, what the hell type of dumb stunt are you pulling trying to interfere with my cash flow? I told you, do not touch that harddrive. It has my entire life on it.” Mulenga said this as she climbed onto my stomach still holding on to the deadly pillow.

“I will ask you once more before I choke you to death with this pillow, Where is my harddrive?” Mulenga whispered this to me with the pillow too close to my face for my hands to do anything to stop her slaughter. I remember panicking, then my body tensed up and Mulenga wasted no time dropping that pillow to my face and then adding her entire body weight to the pillow.

I must have PTSD from that day, cause now whenever I choke I remember not to mess with Mulenga or her harddrive. Lucky for me, I didn’t use her harddrive. I actually forgot to take it out of my bag. At this point I tapped out and while breathless I pointed towards my bag by my bed which was by my desk.

She got off me but I was too spent to get up just yet, big mistake. She retrieved my bad and proceeded to reclaim her spot above my stomach. Fearing for the lack of air i thought I was about to encounter I raised my hands to my head in anticipation of further choking should Mulenga find further displeasure in anything I’d done or not done that day.

As soon as she was satisfied that her harddrive was in my bag, she got off me and hurried out of my room. I could hear her getting to the kitchen, where it sounded like she informing my parents that they were lucky to still have a breathing son. I can’t be sure if she said that, I was still too tired to get up and truthfully I was too scared to bring it up in open conversation with my parents after everything that had just occured.

I had now known Mulenga for about a year at this point. A year of trying to figure her out, a year of trying to decide if I liked her enough to want more from her, a year of testing her limits, a year of discovering if she was real or just putting on some sort of mask. After a year of trying to figure someone out. With every passing moment, the realisation that I was actually fake in comparison dawned on me.

The very essence of not being enough for another human being is a rather nasty abyss to stare into. But I already had nothing to lose, she saw through me all the time. She called me on my nonsense all the time but more than that, she made me feel like fighting for what I wanted and I wanted her.

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