The Broken Woman: Irregular perception by Blossom Obi | @BlossomObi3

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I watch a bird or a butterfly settle on the edge of a crib or a coat hanger. It’s either raining or a beehive just bust open in my head. It’s either day or night. None of it matters. I’m floating between shades of unrealities where the polar ends of the world meet themselves and where everything is alike, because in the end, everything is nothing, or means nothing at least that’s what I thought and at the moment all that mattered.

Slowly rolling another paper, James vision was unsure and almost certain of what it came in contact with. Twisting the edge of the paper till he could feel it cringe between the top of his first two fingers, he rolled three more contents in the same fashion. With a lighter, he lit one of them placing it in between his lips, as he inhaled and puffed.

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“The universe would unite in itself producing something spectacular that would make all my dreams come alive”, James thought to himself as he finished puffing all the wraps.

Certainly life wasn’t always that uneasy and certainly it was. He turned left towards the direction where he earlier saw a bird or butterfly which, he wasn’t so sure. This time it had no wigs but was in the air.

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“The wonders of this world” he whispered barely uttering a sound.

That was just James, he was the only male surviving male offspring of the family. Mr. Sam, James’ father retired from the Army, leaving his mother, Mrs. Tope, a Banker the bread winner of the Family.

Hostility, bitterness and guilt was what thrived and shaped Mrs. tope, one couldn’t blame her after losing all four graduates in a plane crash, leaving James the youngest who was now in his second year in University.

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Plagued with sleepless nights and constant nightmares, Mrs. Tope resulted to medication in order to get good sleep, but it wasn’t helping much until she began to take more than the required dosage, which helped her achieve her aim, at least that was what she thought.

Passed out cold on the floor one Sunday morning, James found his mother.
“Mummy”, he screamed in shock, rushing to her. He tried to lift her up as he called on his father for backup.

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Not too close to his father, James felt them drew apart after the death of his siblings, he wasn’t all too disturbed because his mom made up for everything and there she laid looking lifeless.

Screaming all the more as if his voice would jerk her back to life, his father who was asleep having nothing much to do rushed to the scene and carried his wife as he yelled for James to grab his car keys.

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Driving like a mad man on a wild goose chase Mr. Sam almost ran down a motorcyclist on his lane.
“You don dey smoke abi, cos person wey dey normal no fit jonz like this” the motorcyclist yelled
“Your village people don dey work you, na so person go dey mumu” he continued.

The nurses took her from him, placing her on a stretcher that had tires. They rolled her away as Mr. Sam watched. James knew that was where his journey ended, the rest was up to God and the doctors.

Hours had passed and still no news, the doctor finally came. He wanted to talk to Mr. Sam alone, but Mr. Sam was of the opinion that James should be in the light also, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, because as soon as he heard that his mother was in coma, he left the hospital.

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Never had James felt more helpless and useless in his entire life, he wanted to pray, but words would not just form, he needed something strong that would make him forget, disappear at the moment because at the moment he felt like a shadow.

Beauty in Dark Times
There’s no amount of worry or ecstasy pill, that would change what has happened. Yes, it hurts like nothing in this world but I must tell you to embrace it; embrace that pain; don’t let it change you from your beautiful self. Rather let it be a channel by which you stand strong and fight like you were born to do.

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Blossom Obi writes from Owerri, Imo State. For comments and responses, reach her via obiblossom8@gmail.com or Twitter/Instagram: @BlossomObi3

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