THE ALPHA’S ADDICTION

“Bloodugering Hell!” Emma screamed, moving back ten steps away from the dusty cupboard she had tried to clean, while staring apprehensively at the lone cockroach that had made its way out of the cupboard in response to her simulative clean up process. The cockroach, negligent of her scaredy face, scurried back into the dusty cupboard, leaving no trace behind.

Skimming her slender fingers through her deep red hair, while staring at the little opening where the cockroach had passed through, Emma heaved a sigh of relief. She tossed the now dusty brown rag on the floor which she had used earlier to clean out the kitchen table that stood near the morphy sink, and trudged tiredly to the window which stood at the far end of the kitchen, overlooking the thick dark forest.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Emma watched keenly from the slightly broken window, at a rabbit which hopped from one forest climber to another. And for a minute, she wondered whether the wild animals left the forest range, to harrass the indwellers. She winced at the thought, hoped positively that it was not so. For she hated animals, snakes mostly. The only animals that had survived her taddy hate, was Claire’s dog, and that was because it had saved them from buglary last summer.

Turning away from the uncomfortable view, Emma looked around the messy kitchen and sighed again for the umpteenth time.

“What in the bloody hell am I doing here?” She asked herself loudly, as she rubbed her nose intermittently, walking towards a wooden seat she had cleaned out earlier.

Squinching her face, a sigh of the discomfort she felt for standing for quite a long time, Emma sat down on the seat, dusting her hands off each other. She had no strength to clean the cupboard again.

No, not after seeing that lame cockroach. She thought, muttering to herself. And so dipping her hand into the rectangular front pocket of her faded blue ripped jeans, she brought out her phone, or her sister’s phone rather.

Amelia had slipped the phone into her hands, while no one was watching as she packed her last luggage into the car. And when she had tried to talk her out of it, even though she had prayed earnestly inwardly at the moment that Amelia should let her have it, her sister had hushed her, pointing towards their father while telling her that she would get a new one the next day. In a bid to boot the whippy Samsung phone on, Emma remembered that her father had been issuing orders over his phone to whoever had this godforsaken house.

The white coloured house, a two bedroom bungalow, would have been beautiful if it had not been left desolate for whatever number of years, she thought. The kitchen needed new cupboards, the sink looked so unflattering with those hideous brown and black stains on it, the plates were broken, and the whole area was just so dusty. The sitting room and the two bedrooms were worse off with dangling ceilings and damaged furniture.

Emma didn’t know how to go about them. She also didn’t know anybody here who could really do the house well.

How could Papa send me here? Emma thought in annoyance.

She still couldn’t get rid of the thought. No matter how hard she had tried to, it still kept coming back, ever since her movement to England got real, ever since she got on the plane without nobody following her up.

Although she had always believed that she was adopted, a notion for which her mother spanked her for, the last time she had said it loudly, Emma thought this was way over the board.

This wasn’t right. For ever since she could remember, she had always kept up with her father’s weird actions, trying to please him, no matter the circumstance, not minding the sacrifice it would cost her. But still, compared to the way he treated Amelia, she was shit. And now this.

“This is the height of it all.” Emma said to herself.

“How can he ship me half way across the world for what I did? I didn’t kill someone, Jesus!

I just.. uhhh!”. Emma screamed out in frustration, kicking and shooting out her legs at the dense air.

“How will I cope? I don’t even know anyone here. And how will I clean up this mess of a house that looks like an abandoned drug house? I haven’t lifted a broom before in my entire life! Oh shit I’m doomed.” Emma wondered aloud, while chewing on her lower lips, shaking her legs vigorously.

She switched on the Samsung made phone, and as it turned on, she gave a silent thanks to Amelia for removing the lock in the phone. Her sister’s obsession with phone locks and pattens still baffled her; she even locked her contacts. Emma smiled a little, she had missed her sister. At least Amelia stood up for her most times, when her mom couldn’t.

A message popped into the phone. It could only be Amelia, she thought. Her parents didn’t know of her owning a phone now. Her Dad had seized her phone, with the intent to return it in 3 months time, when he would visit her. Shaking her head sadly in thought, Emma wondered how he could believe that she could survive without a phone till then.

“Old grumpy.” She mused, and tapped the blue message icon.

Opening the message, it read “hey red sis,@british county yet? How’s the house, have you checked out the campus yet, I heard it’s quite cool…”

” Campus??” Emma muttered to herself, not taking note of the nickname which her sister had called her in the message. A name she hated, and had made her sister quit calling it to her, by dropping spiders in her school shoes in Grade 8.

Her eyes widening as she tried to decipher the place of campus on the text, Emma cursed again for the hundredth time as she remembered, while tossing the phone on the table behind her. She had almost forgotten that she was meant to attend the most prestigious university in the british county. The Lakers University.

She had received the acceptance letter two weeks ago, while cleaning her RMX bike in preparation for the bike race downtown. The letter had at that time, also served as a reality-check, that she was actually leaving Florida in two weeks time to a British county she knows nothing of.

Resting her back on the table behind, Emma remembered the school’s resumption date on the letter. She should be resuming on the first Monday of the month, which is two days from now. And so contemplating on how to set things in order, she surveyed the dirty kitchen again and cursed loudly.