Shattered (Anything for My Sister)


This is the story of my life. I was shattered, and I meant in EVERY aspect of the word. If life is a bed of roses, mine is a room of thorns.

But I’ll choose thorns above roses anytime if it affects Flora. Flora above riches, Flora above good life and Flora above Ariana. In the darkest days of the most horrific nights, it’s just she and I against the world.

My name is Ariana Amanda James. 
My little sister is Flora Amara James. I’m seventeen to her ten years old. We are half casts from a rich parents, our mother is an American and our dad is Nigerian. We used to live abroad but Daddy woke up one morning, five years ago, and decided that we’re all going back to his country.

“But we don’t want to, Daddy! I like it here.” I’d cried. Little Flora seconded my notion by nodding her head vigorously, her eyes wide.

Daddy patted my shoulder pleadingly, “We’ve been in the states since you were born and that’s twelve years ago. Don’t you wanna change environment? I think it’s gotta be great.” When I started to protest, he shook his head cutting me off. “We’re going, Ariana.” He said in that hard tone of finality.

My lips trembled and tears clouded my eyes. I know that tone, it’s non-negotiateable. I turned to mom to plead with her too, but one look at her, I know that salvation ain’t coming from that side either. My mom looks… resigned.

I hunched my shoulders in defeat, taking Flora’s hand, we walked to the room.

In Nigeria at first, we had a perfect life. Or what I thought was one She said passionately.

The words took me by surprise. I know that I’m a replica of my mom, that much is a fact. I look all American, it’s Flora that looks like a half-cast more. But what surprised me was the words of love profession, mom wasn’t always vocal with her feelings but Flora and I know that she loves us a lot. “I love you too mommy.”

Her frail hands still on my cheeks, she kissed my forehead, “Always remember your little sister, Ariana. I know you love her so much and will do anything for her. I’m very proud of you, my child.” Her tone sounded tired.

“Of course mom. I love Flora more than my own self and I’ll do anything for my sister. Anything.” I vowed reassuringly.

Fresh tears fell from her eyes then, but she smiled through them. “I know, honey. I know.” but I would have sworn that I heard her mutter under her breath, ‘That’s what I’m afraid of’.

When I asked, she smiled again and shook her head telling me that’s everything’s alright. I was convinced, I hugged my mummy patting her silky massive black hair… that fell to her waist just like mine… with my hand. Surprisingly, she leaned into my embrace. My very strong mom… well, she used to be years ago, but recently she looked like all the fight has been wrenched out of her. She looks… broken. “You’ll be fine, mommy.” I whispered and she nodded.

Then, the next day she drove out later in the day and died from a motor accident. Everything changed forever.

Episode 1. Mom’s Death

The early morning sun and the desperate chirping of birds woke me up from sleep, I glanced at my wall clock in my room, it was 10:00am in the morning. I’ve overslept! Oh my God, Oh my God, I shot out of the bed, Mom will be pouting by now, I mused to myself.

Then I stopped dead in my tracks and remembered… Mom died two days ago.

Fresh tears ran down my already swollen eyes as I remembered the tragedy that kept me up till 2am crying. Mom died in that terrible car accident, leaving Flora and I with Dad. Flora is just ten years old and am only seventeen. How’re we gonna cope with a wasted and 24/7 drunk dad?

Speaking of Flora, I rushed straight to her room, drying my tears to check on her. Like me, Flora hasn’t been sleeping well since the death of mommy. Sometimes, she had nightmares that wake her up from sleep, she’ll run in the middle of the night to my room.

At the door of her room, I took in my little sister. Just like mom and I, Flora has a very long her that pulls to the middle of her back but unlike us, she has what I call Nigerian hair. She was curled up protectively to her side and sleeping angelically in her pink pajamas. I closed her room’s door.

Next, I headed to the kitchen to make breakfast, all the while wondering where daddy was. I haven’t seen daddy since morning, we hardly see him these days, he’s either out drinking or sleeping in his room.

I exhaled , I hope things really get better next week after mom’s burial.

What breaks my heart the most is always remembering that Mom’s death still has something to do with the fact that she ain’t used to Nigeria traffics and bad roads. I clearly remember begging daddy not to take us to Africa to live in Nigeria five years ago. If he had listened to me, mommy would still be alive!

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, coming back to this country was always a bad idea, now it has caused mom her life. Her happiness first and then her life. Even though she never admitted it.

It’s very painful but I know that we have to try and move on but the rate things are going downhill, I don’t think we’ll have ever be the happy family we once were.

But as an optimist, things will surely get better… Right?

Click on the link below for Episode 2


Iwemjiwe Rachel

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