Unwillingly relocating

894 Words
Mr Nxumalo is still smiling at me. If I had a gun I’d shoot that mouth. I don’t need his stupid smile right now. Ayanda is typing on his phone like nothing is happening. “Mandy, stop it” my mom screams at me. I see Ayanda flinch. “Don’t you dare?” I screamed back. I’m very respectful, but right now I feel like slapping the s**t out of her. Never felt like that before. I need to come up with a plan. I need to get myself out of this mess right now. I need to think and I can’t with my parents looking at me with pleading eyes like I’m suddenly God. They can’t do this to me. My heart feels heavy when I think about my dream job. I worked extremely hard to get that job and now this? I feel tears in my eyes and, for the first time ever, I can’t hold them back. Here I am weeping like someone just died and my parents are looking at me like I just popped another head. Mr Nxumalo walks towards me and gives me a warm hug. I can’t help it, I need one. Ever noticed that when you are trying to console someone who’s crying they cry some more? This is what I’m doing right now. “It’s okay. I know my grandson doesn’t seem like a good person, but marrying him won’t be such a bad idea”, he tells me. I just shook my head. I really don’t want to marry him. Oh, I have an idea. “I think I can find a way of paying you guys back without marrying him,” I tell them with a smile, wiping the tears using the back of my hand. “You see I found a very good job, so we can work out instalments and how long I’ll be paying,” I tell them smiling, feeling on top of the world. I mean I came up with a solution 4 adults couldn’t come up with. “I wish it was that easy,” Mr Nxumalo replies with a sigh. “Mandy, if it was that simple we wouldn’t have made this promise in the first place,” my mom tells me. “How much does he owe?” I asked Mr Nxumalo. “Just listen to your parents, will you?” That’s Ayanda. “So he can talk. I don’t want to marry a bustard like you”, I told him. “The feeling is mutual. I don’t want to marry an undeveloped child like you,” he tells me typing on his phone. I’ve been called ugly and plain all my life, but it hurts each time someone says that. But I don’t react anymore, I just keep quiet. “How much do you owe them?” I asked my dad again. “I’ll pack your stuff,” says my mom. “I don’t want you near any of my stuff”. I always tell her that I don’t want her filthy hands on my stuff. “Dad, I asked you a question”. I turned back to my dad. “I owe them a million,” said my dad. He says that they are here for one hundred rands. “What did you even do with the money?” I asked him. God, why don’t I have a gun? I’d shoot him right now. Stupid father. I might as well marry Ayanda. How long is it going to take me to repay a loan with interest when it takes people 20 years to pay? Their bonds are worth three hundred and fifty thousand. I’ve never been so angry in my life. I’ll find a way to get back here as soon as possible. I know Ayanda has more important things to do than to look after me, so I’ll have to find a way, because right now, I don’t have a choice. I went to my room to pack. There isn’t much to pack. Really, my things are stored in 4 boxes. I was planning to buy a wardrobe when I get paid. The first 2 medium boxes have my clothes and shoes, the 3rd box has my novels, and then the 4th is a shoebox. It has important documents like my ID, qualifications, and pictures. I won’t ask them for help, I’ll just take the boxes to the car. They are not that heavy after all. I take the first 2 boxes to the car. There are 4 black Mercedes SUVs. One of the bodyguards comes forward with a sincere smile. He tries to take my boxes, I shake my head, he opens the boot of one of the cars. I walked back to the house to fetch the last 2 boxes. I take the book I’m currently reading, Angels and Demons, by Dan Brown. The very same guard who showed me where to put my boxes showed me the car I should get in. I got the book and got in the car. After some time, Ayanda gets in the car and sits next to me, focusing entirely on his phone. I’m hungry. That’s what I find strange about myself. No matter how hurt, angry or stressed I am, I get hungry while other people lose their appetites.
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