Broken Wings Heal


Where they lived was a black-dominated area, they had just one white family living there, and you could tell by the way they carried themselves that if they had their way they wouldn't be living amongst them. Jasmine never understood it though, is it that when they call blacks they envision them carrying knives and pitchforks, aiming to take their heads off or what?

André called out to Jasmine but she was too deep in thoughts of pitchforks and blacks. He got up and went to her, he nudged her shoulder. Jasmine jumped slightly, a confused look on her face. André pointed towards the food, he had brought it out.

"Which one do you wanna eat?" Jasmine finally said, after spending close to forty-five minutes in silence.

"Anyone is fine." André said.

Jasmine rolled her eyes, "Should we split it?"

"Yeah, that's better I guess." André said, grabbing a clean plate. She dished it and he walked back to the sitting room.

Jasmine dished hers and kept the plates in the sink, she watered them so they won't dry up before she finished, washing plates with dried food on them is not only annoying but extremely painful. Jasmine sat down at the table. She said the grace out loud and dug in immediately the last word left her lips.

André switched off the TV and went to join her at the table.

They ate in silence. Occasional looks coming from André and none from Jasmine. In the last two months, since she's been back, she had learned to ignore everything around her and focus only on herself and her thoughts.

"I'm sorry." André said. When she didn't look at him or say a word, he thought maybe she didn't hear and opened his mouth to say it again.

"Me too, Dré. Me too." She said, and his lips pressed together.

"You always do that. Apologize when it's not your fault." André said, dropping his fork noisily, he relaxed his back on the chair.

"Look Dré. After a while, your mere existence would be enough to apologize for." Jasmine said, taking another forkful.

"You still haven't told us how you got that scar on your back." André said, eying her cautiously. Jasmine never wants the story behind the scar and everything else that happened back at the center to ever see the light of day. It happened there and it sure as hell is going to stay there.

She continued eating her food, not bothering to look at him or give an explanation to his question. André sighed, neither of them saying anything else.

Jasmine finished her food and got up to go do the dishes. André hadn't touched his food since after dropping the fork, he picked it up then and started to eat.

Jasmine washed the plates she had left to soak first. She arranged them in the trolley and went to her room. She came back out a few minutes later to check if they had locked the door. André was back in front of the TV then.

She went back in and brought out her Literature books, what could she even draw out of Romeo and Juliet? She thought.

This was going to be a drag. She left the table and laid on her bed, her face turned to the wall.

Oreoluwa Arowosafe

#398 in Young adult

Story about: love, singlemom, hopeless

Edited: 22.10.2020

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