A shot at freedom

Kyra's pov

My name is Kyra. As I smiled warmly at the stranger my parents had invited in, I couldn't help but notice his frown as he watched me from head to toe. Did I really look that bad? I mean, I had just spent the afternoon tending to my garden, surrounded by vibrant blooms and lush Gardening has always been my passion; there's something magical about nurturing delicate petals and watching them thrive.

"Kyra! Please bring our guest to the meeting room!" my mother, Mrs. Evelyn, called out, her voice echoing through the house like a bell summoning me to duty. "Yes, mother!" I replied, trying to keep my tone cheerful despite the shadow of doubt creeping into my mind. As I turned to follow instructions, the butcher stepped forward, a gentle smile gracing his features.

"Go back to your plants, Kyra. I can handle this," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "Thank you so much! You've always been so kind and helpful to me," I praised him, my heart swelling with gratitude.

"It's simply my job," he replied with humility, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of respect. "Now, if you'll excuse me, sir," he said, addressing the stranger, "I'll lead you to Mrs. Evelyn."

Once they had left, I returned to my beloved plants, losing myself in the soothing ritual of watering and pruning. When I finally finished, I took a long, refreshing bath, washing away the remnants of the day. I retreated to my room, scrolling through social media, hoping for a distraction, but nothing captured my interest. Just recently, I had broken up with Sam, and there he was, flaunting pictures of himself with his new girlfriend. A pang of something—jealousy or longing, I wasn't sure—struck me as I reacted with a heart emoji. It wasn't genuine love; we had been more like friends than anything else. Yet I found myself wondering if I would ever find true love. Why not just settle for Sam? But it turned out, he was too much of a coward to meet my mother's test.

I often questioned her motives behind these tests, and I found myself grumbling about it. "You're the reason I'm still single!" I would exclaim in frustration.

My mother… At times, I couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't quite belong to her. When I glanced at the way Amaony and Onyama's parents interacted with them—full of warmth and affection—jealousy bubbled within me. Those two have been my best friends for years; we've practically grown up together, and I love them fiercely. My dad, on the other hand, was rarely around, and when he was, he was always buried in work. It was my mother who treated me like a prized possession, than her own child. I've often found myself questioning whether she is truly my mother. Amaony always says I shouldn't think that way, but how can I help it? Who wouldn't feel that way in my position? For now, I suppose I'm just stuck with her.

Throughout the years, I've been blessed—or perhaps cursed—with getting everything I wanted when I wanted it. My mum has always ensured that my every whim is satisfied. There have been dangerous moments, too; I've been kidnapped on a few occasions, but somehow, I've always managed to make it back home alive. What was I even thinking? Mrs. Evelyn is my mother! Maybe this is just her unconventional way of showing it.

I lifted my phone, my heart lifting slightly as I saw a chat notification from Amaony. She had sent a picture of herself with her boyfriend, both of them smiling radiantly. "You guys look so cute!"I texted back to her.

Love… What is it, really? What does it feel like? Will I ever experience it?

"Kyra!" My mother's voice pierced through the chaos in my mind as the door swung open unexpectedly.

"Mum! Can I have some privacy, please?" I snapped, the frustration bubbling to the surface as I felt my cheeks flush with anger and confusion.

"Kyra, you're getting married to that young man," my mother stated flatly, as if reciting a grocery list, her tone devoid of any emotion.

"What? Mum?" I stammered, disbelief washing over me like a cold wave. "Are you serious? Is Dad even okay with this decision? You expect me to marry a stranger... someone I've never even met?" I fought against the tide of tears that threatened to spill over, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

She simply regarded me with a look that conveyed her unwavering resolve. "Kyra, I have made my decision, and there will be no more discussion," she replied coldly before turning on her heel and walking away, her footsteps echoing back down the corridor.

I crumpled to the floor, my sobs echoing in the empty room. I knew my mother well. Once she set her mind to something, there was no turning back. The reality of my situation pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating, and I felt my resolve strengthening. Perhaps it was time to put my escape plan into action.

With my phone and credit card clenched tightly in my hand, I stealthily manoeuvred past the maids and guards, their faces blurring in my vision as I slipped out into the cool night air. The world outside beckoned to me, filled with the promise of freedom and a chance to shape my own future. And so, I ran—passionately, determinedly—away from the confines of my past and towards the unknown that lay ahead.