No Place I Would Rather Be | Teen Ink

No Place I Would Rather Be

May 31, 2014
By Charles Chansa GOLD, Lusaka, Other
Charles Chansa GOLD, Lusaka, Other
12 articles 0 photos 2 comments

I grasp the cocoa in my hands and embrace it for it reminds me of her; the only family I had left. My sister... It is cold. My blood is agilely progressing around my body. My toes, clenched like an eagle with its prey soaring through the air. I stare down at my shoes, inspect the intricate pattern of dust specs on the deteriorated leather. What else is there to do? Think and remember my family that is gone now? Remember my baby sister screaming as the broiling flames of the fire consumed her? Or my aunt, the one whose looked after me ever since my parents died, suffocate in the opaque, gloomy and dense smoke of the fire? I sit motionless as the sign that lays in front of me. I have stared at it for more than ten minutes but I have not read it yet. I squint my eyes, and brace myself as my vision begins to focus.

Save the Child Foster Home, I begin to read, Where our Children are at home. I can only sit reluctantly while my details are being entered into the computer. Completely helpless as it drags me into a life that every child would surely dread. Being in a Foster home.


I get a slip, from Ms. Krishna, the foster home matron. She’s built like a wrist watch - first a slim upper body, then grand hips, and finally a slender lower body. She says in a surprisingly consoling voice, "Follow me dear." She looks at me and smiles. Her teeth are straight on top and crooked on the bottom. But her smile is warm and mother like; it comforts me greatly. I pick up my luggage and clumsily throw it onto my shoulder and I begin to follow her.

We walk through a narrow pathway, the flowers and lawn to my adjacent sides seem very composed and peaceful. It must be around 3pm now. I inhale the sweet freshness of nature and let it defuse into my lungs. If it were up to me, I would stay in this scenery. Never think of my life again. Pretend I am one with nature and huddled in her nest. But reality makes that impossible.

As the pathway comes to an end, we begin to approach the threshold of the dormitories. The door is wide open and we walk right through. She unlocks another door to a room as big as my old house filled with mattresses. I hastily pick one up without much thought and walk out. There's another hall way, and to either side there are a pair of bunk beds separated by a wall to form a compartment of three walls with one side open. As we walk, I notice everyone in each compartment stare at me. There's something different about the way they stare.

Ms. Krishna shows me my compartment and informs me of my roommate who is still away. She tells me that dinner will be in fifteen minutes and my roommate will be here by then and I can follow him to the cafeteria. I quickly have a shower and change into warmer clothes. I sit on my bed and stare blankly at the wall. I don't think about anything else. I can't. It is better this way, because it's like all the good memories I have are locked in a trunk with my grief as a lock.

I have not been paying attention, but I do when a woman’s voice says, “May our new brother Cyrus say the blessing."

“Why?” I suddenly ask without thinking.

I look over my shoulder and I notice the whole cafeteria is stunned. The cafeteria is enormous and filled to capacity.

“Excuse me,” She says sternly.

I have never prayed before in my life, and telling her that in front of the assembly of devoted Christians will be embarrassing, but it's my only choice.

“I meant...why can't you pray instead?” I say back, shocked by my reply more than every other person in the room. She gives me such a hard look that I feel like I am being thrown off a cliff. I don't know why I said that...but I did; and I am damned. I breathe in and look around, but surprisingly, there is boisterous laughing all around the cafeteria. They are amused, and you can tell its the only entertainment they have gotten in a long time.

“Fine. Have it your way,” she finally says. "But know you are being watched."

When she leaves, Jayden, my roommate turns to face directly to me and says laughing, "Mr Wiseman, Mrs Leshawna is the last person to make trouble with here," he says raising an eyebrow at me. I feel something I have never felt before, or maybe I have, but it's just been a really long time since I last felt it. It starts by letting out a few chuckles out and then, later changes into erratic laughter.
It's the first time I have ever laughed ever since the passing of my sister, so I do not restrain myself.

I fall asleep quickly that night to be followed by a terrible nightmare, where I am stretching my arm to pull out my sister from the fire but she turns into ashes and then only to be struck by piles of falling debris. I try to call out her name hoping for her to make some movement at least but nothing.

I wake up startled and unable to breathe. I feel as if I am still being suffocated by the smoke. The Pale morning light comes through the shutters and I calm my heart rate more.
It is not going to be easy to fit in here, but I must. I must learn to do activities that will keep my mind busy so as to keep from remembering things. I know that I want to have a normal life, and for me, that’s something— at least more than I could have said a few weeks ago. Just when about to give in to grief, Jayden yanks my arm and we are soon racing to the dining hall.



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