A Very Short Story 😢
After the pool incident, I noticed that Amanda suddenly became scared of me. Any time she sees me approaching, she either runs back, crying or hugs anybody around her, very tight. But I still did not care. I even saw it as an advantage, because she never comes close to my room…ever!.
Although, I felt really bad about what I did that night(that was intense), but that still didn’t change a thing. My hatred for she and her mom was still very strong.
“Why is the baby scared of you?”. Jboy asked one morning while Amanda held unto him.
“How am I supposed to know?”. I replied.
“Hmm, are you sure your hands are clean?”. He joked.
We just laughed over it.
If only he knew how close he was to the truth.
Two months later, I fell seriously ill and was diagnosed with the same sickness that killed mom.. kidney failure
My family was devastated.
Even though I was dieing, I still didn’t want aunt Linda or her daughter anywhere around my sick bed.
“Seeing them here makes my sickness worse”. I told my dad. And because of my condition, he listened to me and advised her to stop coming to the hospital.
I was placed under dialysis for more than three weeks, while dad ran around looking for a donor ( money was never a problem).
I knew he would had given his if not that he donated to mom already.
“Guess what, we finally found a donor”. Senior, announced to me one evening… after I had almost given up on living.
I smiled weakly. I was glad I have been given another chance to live.
The operation was successful.
The day I opened my eyes, the first person I saw was Jboy, sitting right beside me, carrying Amanda.
“Welcome back, Diamond, thank God you made it”. He said, and ran out to call the rest of the family.
While we were driving home later, I decided to voice out the question I had been harbouring in my heart since I woke up.
“Why did you come with her?”. I asked, referring to the baby.
“She couldn’t have been left alone at home”. Junior replied.
I was confused.
“What do you mean, left alone at home?, her mom is not here”.
They all looked at one another and sighed.
“Can someone tell me what’s going on here?”. I asked.
“Okay. The thing is, Linda is dead”. Dad said, wiping his eye.
“How?, when?”. I asked, shocked.
“She died, trying to save you”. Jboy added.
” I still don’t understand” I asked.
“Actually, she was the donor of the kidney, she said she couldn’t watch you die, just like that. She wanted to prove to you that she loves you, despite the hatred you have been giving in return. But unfortunately, she didn’t make it… she died three hours after the surgery”. Senior sobbed.
I tasted something salty in my mouth before I realized I had been shedding tears, while he speaks.
How could I have been so mean?, I was busy hating someone I should be loving all because I have heard so many stories about wicked step mothers and I was thinking they all are in the same boat. It finally dawned on me that I had ended up being the being like the people I feared.
Aunt Linda had always been like a mother to me and not like what I made her look. She was selfless, tolerant and had done so much to prove her love for me, but I was too blinded by hate, to notice.
“Before she died, she left a message for you. She said that for her soul to rest in peace, you need to accept Amanda as your blood…”. Junior was saying.
Before he was done talking, I took the baby from Jboy and held her lovingly to my bossom (for the very first time ever, since she was born), not minding that she was crying and struggling to be free from my hold.
“I love you, my darling sister”. I whispered, tearfully.
That evening, I talked dad into driving me down to the cemetery where aunt Linda was buried. And there, I tendered my apology to her loving soul.
As for Amanda, I never knew she was a little angel. Though it took time before she accepted me, we are cool now and she has been the most important part of my life.
I used to wonder why I allowed jealousy to cloud my reasoning. Amanda was only being a child…a sweet little soul that only needs love and attention.
It’s been five years now, but I still visit the cemetery at the end of each year to pay homage to the one who gave her life in exchange for mine.