Dear journal

It was 5: 30 am in the streets of Lagos, Nigeria. The birds were just beginning to get ready to sing to acknowledge the day, the heavens just beginning to wake up thus heralding the wake of a new day, the cold chill of it showing that it would be a long one and the sound of choruses from afar off blessing the heavens for being able to see a new day could not be mistaken but still in that early hour a young girl lay in her bed, eyes fixed to the ceiling but thoughts miles away and if not for the gentle, steady beat of her heart she could easily have passed off as dead.

It was still a bit dark outside and as the harsh breeze came rushing in to signal that the rains were coming; caressed her cheeks, the young girl sighed a bit, grudgingly lifting herself up from the bed like she was at war with the world, her discomfort so visible that even the bed made a sound like it too also felt her pain, the girl quickly looked at the other occupant in the room and with the constant snore she knew she was the only one awake she sat for a little while longer.

Finally dragging her feet up she looked at them like she wasn't sure that they could carry her, like they were going to betray her anytime soon to  the little yellow reading table, big enough not to be in the small room and a white chair, she picked up a book which looked like it had been lying around for a long time and a Bic pen which had been used half way she began to scribble

"Dear journal, it's another day and unfortunately am still alive... I would give anything to end the hurt I feel, I just wonder why life could be allowed to hold all the cards , I wonder what the essence of life really is if it brings no joy, I would give my last buck to just hit the roads and never come back.

Dear journal, I wish I were like you, no problems to worry about... (sighing) she looked around the room, it was a little one painted green and yellow and not much decoration but neat enough to give a beauty sleep, it smelled of lavender,  a single wardrobe which appeared small but big enough to fit in the essential clothes, no tiles just mere concrete,  an ash standing fan that shaked like it was going to pass out any time soon, and a photo of Jesus Christ was glued to the wall and this was where Ella's gaze was held as she gradually whispered "what do you want from me?" Her gaze held on longer like she was waiting for the photo to talk back, and gradually removing her eyes like she had been betrayed again, like  the photo had failed her again, it was obvious that that was not the first time she had whispered those same, exact words to the photo.

As she was about to round out what she was writing, she heard the soft tap on the door followed by her mum's alto voice "Ella" she knew it was time, she quickly wrote in her journal concluding. "its  6:00 in the morning, another day to put up the charade."

When Ella finally stepped out with her only sister after having succeeded in waking her up it was 6:05 already and she knew what would be coming afterwards, she wittingly ignored to look her aunt's way but she could feel her stinging gaze as she sat down, the devotion had already started.