Just give her the damn drink, I told myself hesitating to go through with my evil plan. You’re heartless, it won’t haunt you, just give it to her, I continued convincing myself. Do it! Do it! Do it! An evil voice inside me said.

No! The good voice refused, I’m heartless but I do have a conscious, I’m not doing this. Yes you are, do it! Just do it! Fine! I told myself finally giving her the juice.

“You’re a life saver. I’m so thirsty,” she said about to take a big gulp.

“No!” I shouted, harshly pulling away the glass from her.

“What’s wrong with you, Mihloti? Why did you do that? I’m thirsty,” she said almost biting my head off.

“It’s just that I saw a cockroach in there,” I lied, turning away. I couldn’t stand looking at her. “I have homework to do,” I rushed to my room.

“And thanks for being so nice to me, it means a lot. You’re a good person, Mihloti,” she said sincerely.

I’m not a good person, I’m a heartless freak. I don’t deserve to be alive, I thought despising myself. “I should be dead!” I screamed, squeezing my pillow tight.

“Are you okay in there?” she asked. But how would I tell her I was screaming ’cause I almost killed her?

“I’m fine,”

“Oh and by the way, today’s your turn to make supper,”

“I’m not hungry so I don’t see why I should make food I won’t even eat,” what if I tried to pull a stunt again? Try to poison her food? I couldn’t take the chance. “You make it,” I suggested.

“That’s unfair. I’ve been making supper for the last many days. Why should I make it again?”

“You should make it ’cause you eat the food and I don’t. So…”

“Fine!” she yelled, beating the pots hard. You could tell she was angry.

*****

I spent two weeks avoiding her. At school I was forever distracted and never did my work. “What’s wrong Mihloti?” Mbhoni asked one morning at break.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” I couldn’t tell her that it was the guilty conscious that was eating me. That I did what she warned me not to.

“Are you sure? You seem really distracted and your marks have dropped. It’s not like you, Mihloti,”

“Ummm…” I hesitated. “I almost killed Tinyiko yesterday,”

“No! You didn’t! You wouldn’t! What were you thinking? I warned you Mihloti,”

“Who’s side are you on kasi, actually” I asked irritated.

“It’s not about sides, you can’t go wanting to kill people and expect me to choose sides. Wa penga wena, you’re crazy,”

“Ani pengi! I’m not crazy!” I yelled. But was I convincing myself or her? Maybe I was just lying to myself.

I spent two full months without visiting mother and it hurt me, a lot. I promised myself never to go visit her. Visiting her was the very reason I almost killed someone. My longing to see her being fine was why my marks dropped.

It was all because of her selfishness that I turned into a monster; a beast. If she wasn’t sick I wouldn’t have had to live with those two morons and I wouldn’t have thought of killing someone.

“We both know you’re not crazy but… but… this is really eating you bit by bit and if you don’t do anything about it, you’ll ruin your life,”

“Whatever,” I said weakly, walking to class and leaving her behind.

Little did I know that I was walking right into hell. If only I stayed till the bell rang I wouldn’t have had to be reminded of what a nightmare life I had.

“Is it true? That you Mihloti-” she asked pointing at me, “need to speak to a psychiatrist ’cause you crazy?” she looked back to her friends who were giggling as if anything was funny.

“Psychiatrist? I’m crazy? And where the hell did you get that, Khombo?” I asked from the circle that was created by her puppets around my seat.

“Oh please, don’t play dumb. Everyone knows you’re insane,” she said heartlessly.

“Khombo, please…”

“Or… is it your ‘poor’ mother? Missing her too much to a point you even wanna kill people? Arg shame,” she mocked me to impress her fools.

It must’ve been that Vilakazi fool, she can’t keep her hole shut. Because of her Khombo was gonna constantly remind me that I was nothing; a nobody who would soon be motherless.

“And, we should start saving for your mother’s funeral. It’s just a matter of time that we’ll be putting her in her rightful place; six feet under,” and her foolish puppets chuckled so hard. “From what I heard, she probably won’t make it. The only way people with congenital heart defects get out of hospital…” she paused, “is in a wooden box,”

“What’s this conge what-what of yours? What’re you talking about?” I was confused.

“OK, here’s the thing. I went to visit your mom…”

“You what? Where the hell do you get off visiting my mom?” I cut in furiously.

“Shut up and listen,” which I did. “I wore my mom’s clothes and put on make-up. You’d bet I was a woman. I got there and lied, said I was your mom’s friend who’d been overseas and I had to see her. Being fools, they bought it,” she narrated the story.

“When I saw your mom…” she paused, “my eyes almost popped out. She is gonna die anytime soon,” I stared at her and my eyes became shiny with tears.

“Your mom will never make it,” she concluded. “You might as well start mourning,” the words went straight to whatever heart I had left and completely destroyed it.

“You’re not Jesus. You don’t know that,” I tried arguing wiping my tears.

“Even Jesus won’t be able to perform a miracle; she’s as good as dead,”

If I had the power, I would’ve slap the shit out of her. Instead I listened to her insult my mother; the only thing I had left.

Just then the bell rang and they went to their seats.

“A wu rila ka Mihloti? Were you crying Mihloti?” she asked ready to punch someone.

“It’s just that I have something in my eye, Mbhoni, it’s nothing,” I said wiping it.

“Mihloti, how can you have something in both your eyes?” Mbhoni persisted and Khombo giggled. “Is it her? I’ll go slap the crap out of her,” she said defensively.

“Don’t give them your attention Mbhoni,” Thinstwalo said. “Just let fools be,”

Ms Vilakazi entered the class and I gave her the dirtiest look ever,

“What’s wrong Mihloti?” she asked as if she didn’t know the answer to that.

“Nxa,” I clicked my tongue, and walked out of her class.

I lied to Oom Chris, our security guard, that I was sick and needed to go home. He first said I needed a dismissing letter and so on, but he finally agreed.

When I got home I ran to my phone and went straight to Google. I didn’t know what I was going to search for but what I knew were the last words she said, ‘heart defect’.

I searched ‘conge heart defects’ and it corrected the spelling and wrote ‘congenital heart defects’, which is a disease that is associated with having a hole in your heart.

Mom has a hole in her heart, I thought crying at the screen as if it’d comfort me.

***

Tell us: Have you lost a lost one? How did you cope?