Episode 1

I sat on my bed reading a book.”The Confident Woman” by Joyce Meyer, now she was one of my mentors and I had read most of her books..

My sister Erica did her pedicure on her own bed.

Our room was a typical girls room, pink in colour and with all the things a normal room should have but I was the bookworm because most of the books on our large bookshelf belonged to me..

I hoped to have my own library when I had
my own house..my sister interrupted my thoughts when she suddenly asked
“Ain’t you confident?”

I looked up and it took me a moment to realise
my sister was speaking to me
“Why you reading about how to be confident?”
She continued

“Well cos..cos. Its a good book ..you should read it” My sister tsked” you just like reading”

“Its one of my hobbies yes..”
“yeah.yeah..you just extremely boring that’s all” I glared at her as she stood up to Inspect her toenails..it wasn’t the first time she d called me that..boring..I kept my book aside as I replied her
“Just because I don’t lead your lifestyle doesn’t make me boring”

“Hm..fiesty..let me see do you listen to hiphop?”

“No..I don’t like it”
“Do you go out for parties”
“Yea..it has to be Godly”
“Erica don’t..”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” She asked..I was taken aback for a moment surprised she d ask that..I didn’t think I should..not till I was ready to get married that is..

“Well do you?” I asked back..she went to the dressing table instead

“How then are you fun..your boring girl..and don’t throw questions back at me” she said putting on her makeup..deciding the conversation was over I decided to return to my book..my sister and I
had a weird relationship, we both were polar
opposites both in looks and character, she was dark complexioned tall and lean like my Dad while I was average in size and height and fair complexioned like my mother. It wasn’t the first time we had gone over this plus the fact she had
invited me to countless parties with her and I
hadn’t gone to any..I wasn’t a saint but I knew what happened at those parties especially knowing the kind of friends she kept. My dad had
tried in vain to curb the wilding in her to no avail, I too had tried talking to her about how Jesus was the only way but it was like pouring water in a basket, I would say every family had a black sheep and I prayed one day she would see the light.

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