FATMA'S LETTER

Chapter 1: Hit and Run

Hello.
I AM GOING TO USE THIS TO INFORM YOU THAT YHIS IS A NEW BOOK, THAT I WROTE. I DIDN'T COPY ANYONE ITS ALL STARIGHT FROM YOUR GIRLS HEAD. LOL.

I HAVE BEEN THINKING OF STARTING THIS BOOK SINCE MARCH 2020. (yes not that very long)

AND TRUST ME ITS GOING TO BE ONE HECK OF A ROLLERCOASTER.

DON'T GET TOO COMFORTABLE WITH THE NAME OR THE COVER. ITS JUST FOR NOW I WOULD PROBABLY CHANGE THEM. SO ADD THIS TO YOUR LIBRARY.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING AS MUCH AS I ENJOYED WRITING IT.

CHAPTER I: HIT AND RUN

How much does it cost to get a driver in this city?

I have been having that thought back to back. Because my mother decided to make me one, Without even paying me.

I texted her telling her i would be late. My mother works at a governmental organisation, She's an Accountant there. It was called Nigerian Deposit insurance corporation and i know she loves her job.

For two weeks now i bring her to work. Take my brother to school. Then come home sleep for two hours, Make lunch, pick my brother at school. drop him at Islamic school come back to my mum's workplace, pick my mum then pick my little brother again, before we all go home together, Sometimes we stop at a supermarket and buy some grocery for the house. Or stop by at family or her friends home.

Do i like this lifestyle?

No, No i don't.

I honked at the G-wagon in front of me again. A jet black flashy car that was getting on my last nerve, I didn't care if it was a G-wagon he was driving like a psychopath.

It was very annoying.

Moving from one lane to another and driving really slow. It was obvious this person was pressing his phone or maybe drunk. I was already running late. My mom had called three times now.

He moved and I followed 'bumper to bumper.' As folks call it. Until he abruptly stopped, And I pressed very hard on my brakes just a little too late and the front part of the car crashed into the back of his car.

"Shoot. Oh no." I say very low.

The first thing that came to my head was. 'Mom's going to kill me' and two. 'I hit a G-wagon'. I smiled like i just didn't have an accident, but deep down inside I wanted to jump from a bridge.

I jumped down from my mom's black CRV. Looking at the damage as no passer-by even stopped to check if i was okay. Welcome to Abuja.

I had less damage compared to the car that had a white horizontal line on the back just where the impact happened.

The psychopath took their time before coming out from the tinted car. I was scared but i was confident this wasn't entirely my fault we both shared the blame. Luckily the car behind me didn't hit me. I would have been in a bigger trouble.

The driver came down and the first thing he did was stretch. So unbothered.

Thank God.

He was tall. Wearing dark clothing that matched his car. He had a full beard a dark long sleeve tee shirt with black joggers and a black flip-flops the Clothes were loose on him. He pulled his shades off and i see his eyes as the sun laid its brightness on it.

He looked at me from my head to my toes and i did the same.

"Have you seen an ophthalmologist before?" Is he high?

His voice was low. Like he was bored by what happened but i heard him it was deep too i don't know how but he sounded like this Vampire in a movie i watched last month.