I am just a girl who loves reading and talking about books
She gets on my last nerve. Wandia my sister really does.
I love my Saturday mornings. Actually, I live for these mornings. There is always something exciting about not having to wake up early after a long week. So it is quite annoying to be woken up so early in the morning. When I first heard the knocks on the door, I decided to ignore them. After a few minutes, they stopped and I assumed that the early visitor had left only to be rudely awoken by more knocks on my bedroom window this time.
“It’s me Njoki, please open up”, she said.
“Its so early, can you come back later!” I responded angrily.
“Please Njoki, open up” she pleaded. “I just want to talk”.
Clearly, I wasn’t going to get any sleep. I pulled my covers over my head feeling so frustrated. That is the problem with Wandia, two years older than me but one of the most selfish and immature people I know. This was so unfair. I only get one day in a week to sleep in and she had to ruin it!
“Okay Wandia, am coming!” I yelled as I dragged myself to the door.
“Oh my God, what happened to you?
I was shocked when I first caught a glimpse of Wandia. She looked terrible. Her hair was messed up, half of it was up while on the right side of the head, it was matted on her head with something that looked like mud or dried blood. She had a big cut on her forehead extending all the way to her left eye. Her lip was cut and still bleeding and her whole face was deep purple and bruised. The mixture of blood and traces of makeup made her look like something out of a horror movie.
She was wearing a short skimpy white dress which was now torn and covered with blood. She did not have any shoes on.
“There was an accident, two people died”, she muttered under her breath as I led her into the house.
I didn’t see her car and wondered how she had gotten to my house in that state and with no shoes on. However, being more concerned about her wellbeing, I brushed the questions aside as I tried to clean up her wounds. The cut on her head was so deep that I could see what looked like a bone through the gush of blood. I quickly got a few bandages and tried to clean it up. I then took her to the bathroom and washed off the rest of the blood.
Once she was clean enough, we went to the kitchen and I fixed her a mug of coffee as we talked.
“What happened to you Wandia”
“There was an accident, 2 people died”, she repeated as she tried to sip the coffee. I could tell that she was still in so much pain although now the bleeding had stopped.
“You need to tell me more than that Wandia”.
“We had gone clubbing at Westie….”
I knew it! Once again, Wandia had done something stupid because of alcohol. I remember the last I had seen her. It was at Central Police Station where I had gone to post her bail after she had been arrested for being drunk and disorderly. It had been on a Monday morning and I had had to report to work late because of her. I had been so furious but then again, she had promised to change and never be a nuisance again. That had been two months ago and we hadn’t spoken since.
I couldn’t believe that she had done something stupid again and actually came to me for help, AGAIN! I was so tired of taking care of her. This was getting so irritating now.
“I can’t believe how selfish and stupid you can get at times”, I yelled at her. All the pity that I had felt for her was gone now. I was done cleaning up her messes.
“I am so sorry Njoki”, she pleaded as her eyes welled up with tears.
This is what she always does. She makes mistakes and then bribes her way into getting forgiven by crying. However, I was just done with all her drama. I had spent so many years cleaning up after her. She had been the wild child since her teen years and we had bailed her out of jail numerous times. We had also made so many trips to the hospital emergency room because of all her drama, from injuries to alcoholic poisoning. In addition, she had done three stints in rehabs both in and out of Kenya. We had done our best but she was hell bent on ruining her life and I planned on letting her do it.
“Please leave”, I shouted at her as I took her coffee mug away.
“Wandia you have to leave my house now and forget that you ever had a sister”, I yelled once again. All those sleepless nights, tears, thousands of shillings, hours spend fixing her messes came crashing down on me. I was done giving her second chances.
She stood there in my kitchen, crying and I almost felt sorry for her.
“You have done so much for me Njoki and I always let you down but I need your forgiveness now”, she replied in between sobs.
My heart softened and for a minute I contemplated giving her another chance. She was my sister and I knew that I would have to forgive her at some point. I still loved her but I decided not to make it so easy for her this time. She had to realize that what she had done was wrong.
“Wandia this is one mess that you have to clean up yourself”, I said.
“Please Njoki, just this one last time”, she pleaded. “There was an accident, two people died”.
She was starting to get on my nerves now and I was feeling quite irritated. It was clear that she was trying to get me to feel sorry for her because of the accident. I just hoped that she wasn’t the one behind the wheel of the car that had killed those two people.
“I will never forgive you!” I yelled.
I knew that wasn’t true but I wanted to hurt her just like she had done to me so many times before. I grabbed her by the elbow to show her how serious I was and practically threw her out of my house. I remember looking at her standing there outside my door, staring at it as she sobbed loudly. She looked so helpless but that was Wandia, the drama queen. I just hoped that she wasn’t in too much trouble due to the accident.
I walked back to my bedroom and looked outside the window hoping that she had left. Good riddance! At least she had so now I could go back to bed. It was really unfair how she always did that. Mess up and expect her family to fix it every time. I was still fuming when my phone rang.
“What is it mum?” I rudely asked as I answered the phone.
Of course I knew why she was calling. Every time Wandia and I fought, she always got in the middle forcing us to reconcile. I didn’t want her meddling this time around.
“Its Wandia”, she replied confirming my suspicion.
I could feel anger welling up and was tempted to hang up on her.
“She is dead Njoki……………… she is gone”, mum went on as she started sobbing loudly.
My head started spinning, tongue went dry, and hands started shaking. Perhaps I had heard wrong.
“She had an accident last night”, mum continued.
I wondered just how bad her injuries were. She didn’t look so bad when she left my place especially after I had cleaned her up. Wandia couldn’t have been dead. Hadn’t I just seen a few minutes ago?
“Mum I don’t think she is dead”, I answered.
Wandia was always trying to play tricks on us especially when she was trying to get sympathy after she had messed up. I thought that perhaps she had a friend call my mum and lie about her dying. I wouldn’t put it past her to do something like that.
“She was pronounced dead at the scene of the accident Njoki, I just saw her at the morgue lying there with a huge cut on her forehead and her white dress covered in blood”. Mum went on.” Njoro was driving and he is also dead”.
Did I just chase my sister from my house with injuries that killed her? But they didn’t look that bad. I remembered her crying as she stood outside my door. She looked okay. This couldn’t be happening!
Wait! Did mum say that she died at the scene of the accident? That can’t be right.
“She was here mum at around 6:30am”, I tried to explain.
“No Wandia, the accident took place around 6:00am and died on impact”, mum answered sounding confused. “She was taken from the scene right to the morgue”.
My sister was dead. What had I done?
There was an accident, two people died!
“I had my chance.’ He said it, retiring from a lifetime of wanting. ‘I had my chance, and sometimes in life, there are no second chances. You look at what you have, not what you miss, and you move forward.”
― Jamie Ford, Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet