Dad, Mom, and I started a road trip as a family on the day I turned 14. They genuinely wanted to take a break from everything related to work, and I was just pleased to be included. But it all happened very quickly when a broken brake caused a collision. I was the only one who lived.
I moved in with Auntie Femi, Mom's younger sister and a mother of two, three months later. However, she viewed me as a maid when I saw her as an aunt. She wasn't the kind aunt I remembered from the funeral. She used to be a wolf hiding in sheep's clothes, but now she only barks and bites.
In contrast to her children, I completed all the duties and ceased attending school because, in her words, "I need to work twice as hard if I'm going to convince her that I'm ready to start school."
I couldn't sleep at night and was uncomfortable all day long, crying. "Lazy child, you should've died with them," Auntie Femi would remark. And I began to think that she was correct. I am the witch, according to Auntie Femi, who killed her sister and husband. I'm afraid because I was ignorant.
I am the same witch, according to Auntie Femi, who killed her husband.
In the body, millions of cells die each day as millions more are produced.
As a result, I cannot say that I am the same person I was yesterday.
Auntie Femi claims that one day she will murder me. However, I think that since humans are composed solely of cells, nothing that has already died cannot be resurrected.