Ola

This story will be in the first person narrative and Vanessa might ask you some really stupid questions but don't worry, you'll soon come to love her.

"Vanessa, get your bags!" My mom called from downstairs

"I'm coming." Hi, my name is Vanessa but please, call me Vanny. I have a twin sister, Vivian. We're not identical, actually she's much more beautiful. I have to use make-up to look as beautiful as she does naturally. Which is exactly what I'm doing right now, make-up. I want to be a make-up artist when I'm done with school. We are moving to Africa, where my dad is from, a place called Lagos in Nigeria and I seriously hope they have a place where I can get a certificate for make-up.

My door opens and my sister peeps in,"You're still here, you're not even dressed. Mum! Mum! Vanessa is still tying a towel and she's not dressed."

"Shut up, bitch!" She stuck her tongue out at me while I waited for the reprimanding that was surely coming

1...2...3 and "Vanessa Clinton, I can't believe you! We're going to miss our flight and you know how important this trip is to your dad! You have 5 minutes to get here." Of course, I mimicked her. She's been saying that anytime I spent a while doing make-up since my dad announced we were visiting his country last week.

My mom loves to howl so much and she hates the fact that I want to be a make-up artist instead of a surgeon like my sister. They want me to have an ' honourable life' or so mummy calls it.

"Vanessa!!!"

"Coming." What am I going to wear? I take my appearance pretty seriously. Something that screams summer and sexy and classic all at once. I'll go for a sleeveless croptop and a classic jacket with a long summer skirt that has to be slit all the way up. Perfect! I'll just add some bright make-up and...voila!

I run down the stairs in my red high heeled sandals and sit by my bowl of cereal. Vivian is wearing the handless flowery dress her boyfriend bought her and a pair of boots. Her thick black hair is tied in a ribbon. Yes, we have thick black hair, we're half-caste although my hair has brown roots like my mom's. She's a brunette.

We finish eating and hurry to enter daddy's sports car. It's so sad we have to leave this luxury life behind because daddy insists we should know our roots. Like what does that even mean? And who needs 6 months to 'know their roots'

Anyway, we get to the airport and board the plane. Mummy is stinking rich. She's the daughter of one of the richest men in London that fell in love with a young hustling Nigeria. She got married to him and a year later, her father died leaving her the entire chain of healthcare organizations and hospitals.

I feel ashamed to therefore admit that this is my first time boarding a plane. I hate to travel, I'd rather stay in a place or take a stroll. I walk all the way to school even though I have all the cars I could ever want at my disposal. I'm not trying to be modest, I'm just not a fan of transportation machines. They're a waste!

We got into the VIP session and Vivian relaxed immediately and began chatting on her phone with her sugar bacon like she calls him. My sister is cuckoo, she's gone Gaga, wacko, whatever you'd call it. She thinks cutting people open and doing things that are literally bloody is so much fun. She wants to be a friggin heart surgeon. Mummy is going to hand one of the hospitals over to her after college. Mummy took one year off school for us to travel to Nigeria. I didn't think it was possible to do that at Oxford but money answereth all things.

When we arrive at Africa, it is a very hot afternoon. I've never been this heated before.

We're taking a tour around a certain place dad called Ogbomosho. It's the definition of a slum.

"Jeez. It's so hot in here," I complained

"I think I'm in hell!" Vivian screamed

There was a market nearby so the place was swarmed with people and the noise was deafening, car horns, women and men screaming and cursing, children running around like rats. Everywhere was so rough and dirty and...who did I just see? Was that a boy? And I think he touched me. I look around and sight him again. He's wearing a pair of tattered jeans or rugged like the youths call it and a black T-shirt with silver stud earrings on each ear and one on his left eyebrow. His skin was the perfect chocolate colour and it seemed to sparkle. His eyes too were weird, like they were beckoning on me to come...

"Earth to Vanessa!" Vivian clicked a finger in my face and brought me back to reality, "What were you staring at?"

"Oh... nothing. I saw an interesting cosmetics set. You know what? I think I'll check it out, give me five minutes." I said and walked away.

"Five minutes, baby and don't be late," daddy called after me. I looked towards the direction I saw mystery guy before but he was no longer there. I have to find him...right? (Shrug) Don't care.

I ran towards the direction I met mystery guy before, you know, let's just call him MG.

I ran towards the direction I saw MG before and saw no one, just a house, an old, measly house. I'm just going to ask of him, I have a feeling he lives here, what do you think? Thanks for the advice but I've made my decision, readers. I knocked at the door of the house and it opened slowly. Creepy

"Come on in, beauty," a voice said from inside. That was double creepy. MG is not worth it.

"No, don't worry. I'll just leave, thanks," I turned around to leave in fear but MG was right there holding a white handkerchief which he blew air on with his mouth. Some sort of white powder flew into my face and I blacked out...