Daily Dose

I can hear her breathing by the door, her eyes stabbing into my back. I know that if I look around, she will flood my room with her unruly tears. But there’s nothing we can do. I suppose that’s part of growing up, sometimes we have to navigate the world alone, and that’s entirely okay. It builds a thicker skin. In her case, I just hope she handles it well, because I am genuinely worried.

“Why won’t you take me with you? I won’t leave your room, and we’re already done with our exams anyway. It won’t matter if I skip school,” she mutters behind me.

Sigh.

“Come here.” I settle on the edge of the bed and motion to the space beside me. “Sit.”

She draws closer and sits down.

“We talked about this, Liyana. You promised me you’d be okay.” And that was only a few hours ago.

“What if Mom and Dad start fighting again?”

That’s exactly what I’m scared of, kiddo.

 “You do what you always do when I’m at work. Lock yourself in here. It’s just for a week, Liyana. You promised me you’d be fine.” I sympathize with her deeply, but she knows how to survive this hellhole. If I keep coddling her, she’ll never build resilience. This is harder on me than it is on her.

“Bring me something nice then,” she says, a mischievous smile breaking through her gloom.

“You know I gave everything to Skhue. I’m only left with transport money.”

“So how will you survive? You have to eat and everything-”

“Don’t worry, they’ll provide food there. Hopefully.” I offer her a reassuring look. “And there’s always the cafeteria. That hospital isn't like our local clinic here.”

“Mmh. Wait here…” Before I can ask any questions, she bolts out of the room.

In less than a minute, she emerges holding a shopping bag.

“And what is that?”

She sinks onto the bed again, her smile stretching from ear to ear. Her hand disappears inside the bag and pulls out an empty Nivea lotion container. She twists it open and extracts a roll of cash.

My confusion is obvious, prompting her to clear her throat, that bright smile still firmly plastered on her face. Crazy girl.

“W-where did you get that?” A hundred-dollar note is not something I’d ever expect to see in this house. No offense to us.

“Remember last month when you gave me three dollars for the school trip?”

“Mmm…”

“Shantel and I combined our money and bought a wholesale pack of sweets to resell at school. Whatever profit we made, we reinvested into more sweets. This is what I’ve made so far,” she announces proudly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“We can go and ask Shantel right now.”

If I didn't have a bus to catch, I actually would. Though I wouldn't let her come along, because she’d just tip her friend off.

“Well, if you say so. But this has to stop, Liyana. You’re going to get into trouble. You shouldn't be selling things at school; you go there to learn, okay?”

She sighs, her eyes threatening to roll, but she catches herself just before I show her flames. Her arm remains stretched toward me.

I take the note, fold it tightly, and drop it back into the container. “This is your hard-earned money. I can’t take it,” I whisper.

Her brows knit in confusion, a profound sadness clouding her eyes. “Sis, I’m giving it to you. Please take it—”

“No, Liyana. This is yours. Keep it. Actually, you know what? Your birthday is coming up soon, and I know we’ll be broke by then. Why don’t you save this so we can buy something nice and celebrate as a family? What do you think?”

“Then Dad will get drunk, accuse everyone of hating him, and Mom will tell us to leave him alone because 'he’s just had a bit too much.' Then we’ll go to bed miserable, just like every other day. No thanks, I’m good.” This time, she does roll her eyes.

Poor kid. She doesn’t look forward to anything anymore. Aren't our parents just wonderful?

“Fine. We can do something else. Just you and I,” I smile.

She smiles back before a frown overtakes her features again. “But what about Mom? I feel bad for her. She’ll be all alone.”

She chose this life!

“I guess we’ll have to involve her too, then.” She better not let her husband ruin my baby sister's birthday. My phone rings, interrupting us. “Let me answer this.” I motion for her to head out while I finish packing my suitcase.

                               •••

Mom slowly sets her phone down when I walk into the living room wheeling my suitcase. She stares at the luggage, her eyes widening slightly before her expression softens.

“Isn't that a bit too large for just a one-week stay?”

Dear Mother, if I wanted to run away from home, don’t you think I’d pack my sister as well?

“It has everything I need.” I offer a polite, tightly curved smile. “Liyana went over to Shantel’s to finish up her homework. Let me walk you to the bus-“

“That won’t be necessary, Mom. Thanks, though. See you on Saturday.”

I turn toward the exit. I’ll just have to pray for myself on the way. What is the point of her praying for my safety when she has consistently failed to protect us as her children?

“Liyema, wait!” she calls out, stopping me right at the gate.

Lord, I want to roll my eyes so badly.

“Wait, please…”

“Is there a problem, Mom?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Mom, please-“

“Please, just let me say this. I know you probably hate me. I know. Ever since Skhue took your father’s focus, you haven't looked at me the same way. You rarely speak to either of us. It's just 'yes' or 'no' when we ask you questions, or an apology when we accidentally bump into each other. It’s like we’ve become strangers living in the same house, and I can’t blame you. I don't. That’s why I’m apologizing. Liyema, I am looking for ways to get the money we need so we can get out of this situation, so we can function like a family again. Please, just bear with me a little longer. I will fix this. Please?”

“My bus arrives at one o'clock, Mom. We’ll talk.”

I leave her standing there. Walking away from my mother feels inherently wrong, especially when she is begging, but there is no right response to what she’s asking. The fact that she wants to carry this cross while the real culprit is busy drowning himself in alcohol tells me everything I need to know. Her apology is pointless.

                              •••

If I had delayed even a minute longer, I would have missed the bus. Fortunately, I secured a seat near the front. I don't want any noise right now; I just want to enjoy the journey and distance myself from everything else.

My phone vibrates. “Hello?” I really should have switched it off.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already arrived in Kings?”

“I wish. I just boarded the bus. Where did you say we were meeting again?”

“Uh, please don’t kill me, okay?”

Oh, no. “What’s wrong, Sis Brie?”

“Something unexpected came up, so I won’t be able to make it back to Kings. But I’ve told my sister to give you the spare keys, alright?”

“Oh… is everything okay?” I can’t exactly live in someone’s apartment while they are completely absent, can I?

“Everything is perfectly fine! I’ll text you my sister’s number, just give her a call as soon as you step off the bus.”

“Okay. Thanks, Sis.”

“Don’t mention it!”

“Did Mr. Dube have an issue with you skipping work?”

“Oh, don’t worry about Mr. Dube, Liyema. He’ll be fine; he won’t swallow me alive,” she replies confidently. Perhaps the workplace rumors are true. But isn't Mr. Dube a married man? Not my business. I’m just grateful to have a roof over my head.

•••

The apartment complex is beautiful. I honestly don’t understand why anyone would willingly transfer from a place like Kings to work in Thembalethu, where there is absolutely no Themba (hope) at all. Girl, that is pure self-sabotage.

Opening my bag, I freeze. “Huh?”

I am definitely not losing my mind. I know for a fact I didn't pack extra money in my suitcase. I don't even have extra cash to begin with.

“That little rascal!” I mutter, immediately dialing her number. So, she had more than just that hundred-dollar note?

“Liyema-“

“Did you sneak twenty dollars into my bag?” I demand without greeting her.

Silence. She absolutely did.

“Liyana?”

“I just felt terrible that you didn't have any extra money for upkeep while you're away for the whole week-“

“You told me you only had that hundred. Where did this twenty dollars come from?”

Silence greets me again. This girl makes me want to catch the next bus right back to Thembalethu.

“I told you, I sell sweets with Shantel. I just want to help you, too. I see how much you struggle to take care of us. Please don’t be angry.”

Why am I completely unable to buy this sweet-selling narrative? I will have to investigate this thoroughly the moment I return. I need certainty.

“So, how much did you actually make-“

“Ready to go?” a male voice cuts in from her end.

“Oh, Liyema, I have to go accompany Dad to the councilor for that piece job he mentioned. Bye!”

The line goes dead. Great.

That voice was definitely not our father's.