My alarm rings and it immediately hits me that it’s Monday.

I wake up, make up my bed and take a shower then wait for Craig, my step-father, to take me to school.

“Honey, you’re getting late,” chimes mum.

“We’re leaving now, just waiting for the boys to finish,” says Craig with his retired voice.

Those rug-rats come running as if they are blown by the wind.

“We are ready to go,” they say at once with their annoying, squeaky voices and get a kiss from their mother.

I stand by the door waiting for Craig to finish saying his goodbyes. In my head I’m thinking, Isn’t the honeymoon over? Finally we get to leave. The twins are sitting at the back making noise. I’m glued to my Whatsapp trying to avoid making eye contact with Craig. We drive from Bradford Street, past Liverpool Road, approaching Benoni Primary where we have to drop of the twins.

They finally get off the car and there is peace. After dropping them it feels like the drive to Benoni High is long as there is tension in the car. Craig is so focused on the road and I am keeping up with my phone. We finally reach my school. I get off and bang the door. He opens the window, “You forgot to say goodbye,” he says.

“Aww. Bye daddy, have a great day at work,” I say with my fake smile.

*****

The bell rings and everybody is excited to go home except for me. Everyone packs up and gets ready to go. As usual I walk with two of my besties, Thembi and Carol. As we walk to the bus stop everyone starts talking about their weekend.

“Yoh chomie, this weekend was surely the one to remember,” says Carol.

“What happened,” Thembi asks.

“My parents went on a business trip last weekend to Durban, so I decided to call my boyfriend, Sipho. He came over, we chilled but later we went out to this hip and happening club in Rosebank. The music was pumping and it was overflowing with people,” she says with a glimpse of a smile.

“I so wish I was you,” I mumble the words as I couldn’t utter them clearly.

Why am I the only one who doesn’t have a Monday story to tell? I think to myself. It seems like everyone has something to share. Maybe I should create one. Anyway, they won’t believe me since they know my mother is possessed.

“Any-who, enough about us. Thina how was your weekend and what did you do?” the question directed at me jolts me back to life.

I quickly think of a lie but then again I change my mind.

“It was okay, nothing new happened,” I say with a disappointed voice.

“We should go out this weekend,” says Thembi.

“As if they would allow me to,” I respond. “I still have to beg them with the England trip,” I say with a low tone.

“Oh, you are going overseas?” They ask at once.

“That’s if umama nomuntu wakhe, my mom and her boyfriend allow me to.” I respond, checking the time. It felt like I had been waiting for my step-father for ages now.

I look around to see if there isn’t a red KIA Picanto approaching. My mind is in the middle of nowhere, all I can see are the mouths of Carol and Thembi moving, but cannot hear what they are saying. I feel a hand touching my shoulder.

“Thina, are you OK?” Thembi asks fondly.

“I am fine.” I respond softly.

That is a line everyone uses when they do not want to respond to any more unnecessary questions. I knew if I said I was not OK, they were going to put me in a board meeting and try to figure out a solution to my problem.

A few minutes after the question Mrs Thabede, Thembi’s mother, arrives driving a Range Rover – which is the same as my father’s car. We say our goodbyes, they both jump into the car and she flies off. I sit there waiting for Craig to fetch me.

***

Tell us what you think: Would you make up stories to share with your friends if you didn’t have any of your own? Why? Why not?