Rebecca's Chronicles; Chapter two.

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Gone again.


There's nothing more cruel than the death of another being when life just starts making sense- Quote by Me.

“You have to come live with me now.” Rebecca heard a voice whispered closely to her ears.

”Rebecca… Rebecca.” The voice whispered again with a little tone of sadness.

A single tear danced melancholy down Rebecca's chubby cheek as she stared at the woman before her.

”You have to come live with me now.” Mrs. Dawson, Rebecca's maternal grandma repeatedly urged Rebecca toward the awaiting car at the front of the milky brown gate. Her parent's home and hers.

Taking in her surroundings, Rebecca walked toward the car, got seated, and looked out the window as the next 48-hour event came rushing to her mind like a wave of the sea.

Her parents. They were gone, and so was her world.

The car's engine roared to life, and Rebecca wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Since the moment she received the call, she had become mute.

The caller, noticing it was a little child she spoke to, brought police to her parents' house to pick her up as she was led to the hospital. For hours, Rebecca stood alone, barely understanding what was happening around her until her grandma came over.

Documents were signed, and the next thing was the burial. The convict was a drunk driver, and with the rain, he had hit her parents' car with his truck, which had smashed the car to a tree. Leaving her parents lifeless.

Rebecca had heard that much from the other patients in the hospital who had watched the news.

Standing close to the grave, Rebecca had looked at her parents' coffin side by side without her presence in the middle as usual. They were gone.

”They are gone.” she whispered quietly before closing her eyes.

”Mom…Dad!” Rebecca whimpered quietly as the chirping of birds woke her up. Looking at her surroundings, Rebecca quickly stood up as she tried to remember how she got here.

”I see you are awake. Wash your face and come out to eat.” Mrs. Dawson, Rebecca's grandma, spoke with her hands placed on the room's door.

”Where am I?” Rebecca asked, trying to remember how she had gotten to her recent surroundings.

”Welcome to my home. It might be strange to you since you came from the city, but you'll come to love it.” Mrs. Dawson replied with a smile.

”But… How did I get in here?” Rebecca questioned, staring at her grandma.

”Oh. I had help. The driver I hired carefully carried you in as I instructed, and I have arranged some of your things.” Mrs. Dawson answered.

Walking around what seemed to be her room, Rebecca saw the adjoining door by the left, which led to the bathroom. Washing her face, a sharp string of sadness cut her heart as she saw her brush neatly kept in a bowl.

Closing her eyes, Rebecca swallowed the cries in her lungs and picked up the brush to brush her teeth before going out to meet her grandma

Living with her grandma was different. Rather than waking up from the sound of cars, the birds and the animals around filled in the gap.

Nine years ago, she had stepped into her grandma's abode, and almost seven years later, Rebecca had grown attached to her grandma's garden, the sound of nature, and found a new hobby.

At first, Rebecca tried writing, but it always ended badly. For once in her life, Rebecca had stared blankly at books and found it hard to write. The pen became heavier, and her nights were filled with memories of the dreadful night of her parents' passing.

With time, her grandma's set of skills grew on her, and Rebecca found herself edging toward it to get her hands busy and her thoughts occupied with her grandma's word about gardening leading her.

”Hmm, I love the smell of this. This is a new ingredient, grandma. How did you get it?” Rebecca questioned her grandma, who was busy stirring her newfound ingredient in the pot.

”It came from the soil which is…”

”More reason we have to feed the soil.” Rebecca added.

”That is good. When you get to know your plants, they'll teach you ways you can use them.” Turning toward Rebecca, her grandma added. ”Your admission letter came in.”

Switching off the gas, Mrs. Dawson headed to her room and back before handing Rebecca an envelope.

Holding her breath, Rebecca looked at her grandma before opening the envelope to read the letter. If she gets accepted, this would be her first time going to school.

Scrolling through the letter, Rebecca closed her eyes at the last sentence.

*”What happened?” Her grandma questioned.

”I guess we have a lot of cooking to do today. I got in!” she screamed, which earned her a smack on her arm from her grandma.

”You scared me.” Mrs. Dawson said before hugging her granddaughter.

”How long has it been?” Mrs. Dawson asked Rebecca as they both worked on the farm close to the house.

”Two years and a few months.” Rebecca replied as she gently nurtured the plant close to her.

”I am glad to see you still care deeply for the plants after spending that long in school. Don't let them wipe your brain with those acidic ingredients used for cooking. Always remember the soil.” Her grandma advised.

”Haha, are you jealous now, grandma? Don't worry, no matter what, I'll always cook with natural sources as you've taught me. You inspired me to study Culinary Art course, so I'll be a great chef like you one day, and I'll always go for your teachings.” Rebecca spoke reassuringly.

”That's good. Always water the plants and care for the soil. That reminds me, your birthday is a few days from now. Let's celebrate.” Her grandma stated.

However, the mention of her birthday brought a dreadful feeling to Rebecca's heart. A few days from now, she will be eighteen. That's nine years after her parents died, and the number nine has been a scary number for her.

”I'll pass on this year's celebration.” Rebecca replied quietly, her mind lost in her memories.

Morning came, and as usual, Rebecca headed toward the kitchen to prepare a meal for her grandma before heading to her room to check up on her before she went to school.

”I am off to school.” Rebecca said, walking into her grandma's room.

”Grandma.” Rebecca called out touching her grandma's body, and the coldness of her body made Rebbeca stagger.

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I'd appreciate feedback from anyone who comes across this. I'll be tagging a few friends @nkemakonam89 , @kenechukwu97, and @rukkie to check this out.

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Still yours truly,
Balikis.

Thanks for reading and listening.

Peace be unto those who crave it and more to those who chase it away.