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Rose among Thorns

• December 03, 2009
• Chapter 1

  Posted: December 3rd, 2009, 11:32pm EST

  div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Generator"meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Originator"span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" I was hoping to post once a week but I am really inspired. Here is Chapter 1. Honest feedback please.../spanspan style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style="font-size:100%;"buspan style=""Chapter 1o:p/o:p/span/u/b br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style=";font-size:100%;" It was told to her that she was born pre-mature at seven and half months and her birth had caused her mother so much pain. She had often wondered why her younger brother by a year and a half grew very fast like a genetically modified crop while her height remained stagnant. Every year on her birthday, her father would mark the wall to record her height. But after her twelfth birthday, there was no more use marking the wall. It seemed as though she was destined to be short. Yet, her father thought otherwise and blamed her vertical challenge on her lack of consumption of vegetables. At least now she could blame her short stature on her pre-mature birth. It made perfect sense, no?/spanspan style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style=";font-size:100%;" Her name was Adwoa Kyeremateng Nyarko and she was barely five feet tall. Despite the effect that her early birth had on her height, it did not seem to impact in anyway the development of her hormones. Soon, she had two huge balls of breast which cause her much discomfort and with the onset of her menstrual cycle, she felt she was doomed. Every month she felt that she was being punished for causing her mother pain at childbirth. The whole concept of femininity was a disturbing transition for her and you couldn’t blame her. Adwoa had grown up in her grandmother’s house where she was the only granddaughter among the many grandchildren. She had grown up playing with Lego (also because her mother thought Barbie® useless), playing soccer with her brother and male cousins and of course playing the video games. My, did she love those video games and she was good at them. She would often challenge the boys to Mortal Combat or Street Fighter because she was confident that she would win and often she did without even knowing what controls she was pressing. /spanspan style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style=";font-size:100%;" Now she couldn’t hang out with the boys as much anymore because she was “supposed” to behave like a lady. Since her first shedding of blood, her mother said hanging out with and around boys was dangerous but this baffled her. She always hung out with boys and that was what she was used to. It was no surprise then that she hated her femininity so much. With time she had all these feelings that she wanted to express and now the hormones weren’t helping it. Before she turned 13, she had self-diagnosed as melancholic. But there was no way to express it because it was unheard of in her Christian Ghanaian home; children’s feelings were unimportant and such feelings were stirred up by the devil. Daddy would ask her to pray for God to take such feelings away because it was in the mind or she was making them up. Every time her feelings were dismissed, it became unbearable to have them inside because they were eating her up so she would write them down. One day she wrote to daddy to let him know that she was running away, which did not of course. For where was she going to run to except her granny’s house. At the age of six, Adwoa’s family had moved to an apartment of their own in another town not too far from her granny’s. She now lived with her mother, father and younger brother. There were no more male cousins to fuel her tomboy behavior or boys to hang with without getting in trouble with her mother. /spanspan style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style=";font-size:100%;" o:p/o:p/spanspan style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"span style=";font-size:100%;" Oh, yes her mother. Her mother was another reason for her state of melancholy. Tina did not know why but she had always felt that her mother did not like her. Often she would think that she was adopted or perchance the woman she called her mother was her step-mother who married her father after her real mother died. And there was also the theory that the woman she now called her mother had stolen her from her mother while she was at the hospital. Whatever the theory was, nothing she ever did seemed right to her mother and it didn’t help that it seemed that her younger brother got preferential treatment. It was either Tina laughed too much, slept too much, was irresponsible because she didn’t pick up after her younger brother’s mess or made a slight grammatical error with the English language (which was not even her native language). Her younger brother on the other hand got a free pass because all his “sins” were blamed on Tina because she was the older sibling and oh yes, she was punished for those sins including hers. The belts that adorned her mother’s wardrobe and theirs had kissed her young fragile skins so many times that she knew how each belt felt without even looking at it. As the girl, she was supposed to do the house chores regardless of whether or not her brother joined in. After all, her parents were raising her up to be a good woman, a potential good wife and a good wife had to know how to take care of her home. But she knew that wasn’t what she was supposed to do. She wanted to be free to have fun with her brother and his friend; just be a child. Her mother’s sudden departure for England when she was thirteen to work didn’t help but rather fueled the “tension” between her and her mother. To Adwoa, she felt she had been robbed of her adolescence because she was forced to grow up quickly by doing all the house chores and other duties her mother was supposed to do. In her quest to escape the regime she now found herself in, Adwoa sought attention elsewhere and now that her mother was not there, maybe now she could play with the boys. o:p/o:p/spanspan style="font-size:100%;" br //span/divdiv style="text-align: justify;" br //divdiv class="blogger-post-footer"img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5714029844287098794-4603584226224028085?l=midgiechic.blogspot.com' alt='' //div