School

Bernice turned onto the road shoulder and stopped.

"Here we are."

Kwase stared out the window at the students moving to and fro without moving in her seat.

"Are you okay, Sheil?" She asked, concerned.

"Do I have to meet everyone with my face like this?" Bernice rolled her eyes. "I am sorry but this is not the first day of school, com'on. You have only one or two bumps on your forehead."

"I never have dark spots. My face is horrible."

This was frustrating.

"Alright, alright. I won't agree your face looks bad because you say so. But since you've said so, here's what we'll do. You go to class, we'll visit the pharmacy later. I still say you look like you do every other day."

"But I only need clarifying herbs and it will be gone like that," she clicked her fingers for emphasis.

"Since when have you been into clarifying herbs?" Bernice mimicked, clicking her fingers twice. Kwase said nothing. She had always had impeccable skin, it was difficult to explain. If only she were home. There was no clue as to how this could have happened and she had no idea how to get out of it. She did not even know this family but was supposed to be their daughter. Some how, she knew this was her place but she did not belong. Everything was different, everyone was different and she had become a common girl. "The doctor said that you are going through a phase," her mother was saying, looking about her for something she had dropped.

"I promise you, we'll find a solution to your problem. Right now, I'm late for work."

She reached out and touched her shoulder. "You are a pretty girl, my darling, inside and out. It has never really bothered you this much before."

She retrieved her hand and changed her tone. "Get out already, I'm late."

Kwase opened the door and stepped down. She didn't wave goodbye like she usually did. Bernice contemplated her in silence before turning away. It was deeper than tiny bumps, but she would deal with it much later. She had a job to attend to right at the moment. She started the engine and drove away. Kwase dragged her feet to a bench not too far away. She looked at her white pair of sneakers and slightly baggy jeans without the joy of being beautiful which was a constant in her world. She looked about. Where in this concrete jungle could she find what she was looking for? Her phone beeped and she looked at the screen. "Packed your timetable in your bag. We'll deal with it. Love you." Mom. She got up from the bench. The copse in the distance was her destination not hall B40.