Different - A Story.... (Part 1)

 Hola Lovelies!

Have you missed me? I know you have… I have missed you too!

Today’s short story is for survivors, especially survivors of sexual violence.

Read & enjoy. 

                                

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 “You are different,” he had said as he withdrew from her.

She lay there on her bed, powerless, confused, and overwhelmed by a thousand emotions.

How did she get here?

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Journey found herself in a new country, a new city, and a new town.

You could probably guess from her name that she was always on the move. Born on the road, it wasn’t a coincidence that her mother had decided to name her Journey.

The first time she heard her name, she had thought it was ridiculous. She remembered how she refused to respond whenever her parents called her, and they eventually became convinced she might be deaf.

They had her tested.

The doctor diagnosed partial deafness.

As a teenager, Journey had laughed at how stupid the doctor was and how gullible her parents had been.

It was their fault.

They had given her the most ridiculous name she had ever known.

But maybe it was destiny.

Maybe her mum had somehow known that one day, her daughter would become a globe-trotter.

This time, she was in the U of K, as she liked to call the United Kingdom, much like how the USA was so casually referred to.

She had finally decided to relocate to the UK and settle for a while after completing her Master’s degree.

Her parents would have been proud that she had finally decided to stay somewhere.

Oh well.

Their loss.

Do the dead have feelings these days?

The way this world was going, nothing shocked Journey anymore.

Brand-spanking-new to Nottingham, she had enrolled at the great Uni of Notts, a city so different from London, and even more different from Lagos.

She had visited a friend there during her stint in London, fallen in love with the city, and promised herself that if she ever decided to further her studies, she would do it there.

And why not?

The semi-prestigious University of Nottingham was one of the top 100 universities in the world.

Even before she resumed, Tito had already secured accommodation for her near school—a cute little ensuite room with a TV!

Tito had done well.

Days after helping her settle into the city, Tito was now helping her unpack.

“You no go pick Mama’s call?” Tito asked.

“Grandma is stressing me. She has been obsessing since I moved,” Journey retorted.

“Journ,” Tito called affectionately, “just pick her calls. Don’t forget you’re her only family now o.”

“Journ......”

The way Tito said it sometimes made “Journ” sound suspiciously like “John.” And Tito loved calling her John just to tease her, especially when they were out.

“I’m not her only family. She has other grandchildren.”

“You know what I mean,” Tito replied.

Journey eventually called her grandmother back.

After the conversation, she returned to Tito.

“So, who is the bobo on the line now?” Tito asked, clearly fishing for gossip about her love life.

It seemed Tito was a little bored.

Seven years of marriage to her amazing husband and two children later, Tito still hadn’t accepted that she might have married the last good man on God’s green earth.

“No man. Please don’t disturb me.”

“Are we still on our celibacy journey?”

Whenever Tito used the word journey in conversation, she said it in an exaggerated, laughable way, tilting her head to one side.

“As a matter of fact, YES,” Journey replied.

“Okay, but that doesn’t stop you from dating. You haven’t dated in three years,” Tito countered.

“Not a coincidence that it coincides with the death of Mum and Dad,” Journey whined.

Usually, that would work.

At the mention of her parents’ death, Tito would drop the argument.

But not this time.

“Bring your phone. I heard about this dating app called ‘Singe.’”

“Married woman, how do you know about dating apps? I will tell your husband.”

Tito ignored her.

She took Journey’s phone, downloaded the app, and began setting up her profile.

Journey eventually gave in.

Tito had used Journey “John” O as her full name.

“Watch how the UK boys will bombard your DMs,” Tito promised.

And bombard they did.

Her DMs were soon filled with a mixture of races, ages, accents and intentions. Journey scrolled through them, wondering just how serious any of these men could possibly be.

One profile, however, caught her attention.

Perhaps because she was bored.

Perhaps because he was the only one curious enough to ask about the strange “John” in her name.

Whatever the reason, Journey decided to respond.

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