I let out a breath and after gently resting my glasses on my small bedside table, plopped down on my bed.

School was hectic and I felt the exhaustion creep into my bones.

It was just the first day and already I had two separate assignments in maths and biology and a lot of reading to do on the rest of my subjects.

The temptation to pull my cover over my head and doze off was overwhelming but some things had to be taken care of first.

There was the matter of my appointment to see the nurse and the tour I'd stupidly agreed to take after school.

Before I could decode what was going on I felt a dip in my bed on my right and pretty soon I couldn't control the laughter that erupted from me.

“The one and only Amarachi! How was your holiday na?”

Thankfully the tickling stopped long enough for me to catch my breath and I looked up at the fuzzy face of my assailant.

Squinting, I recognized Telemi's pockmarked face instantly.

“God Almighty! What is doing you? Are you ok?”

“What do you mean ‘am I ok?’ Nawa oh, you don't see your friend for two months and that's the greeting you get?”

I didn't need to answer because Kenny announced her presence with a squeal.

“Is that you Telemi? Our room is finally complete!”

I was left alone on my bed as Telemi focused her attention on Kenny.

“Kenny, Kenny! My nigga! How far na?”

I exchanged a look with Grace as they started their weird handshake, grateful that I had at least one sane roommate.

“You know, considering the hundreds of thousands of naira your parents spend here every term I'd expect you guys to be a little more cultured,” I said as I stood up from my bed to deal with the remaining items on my list.

“Don't mind Amara, it's that time of the month,” Kenny joined Telemi on her bed with Kenny's suitcase placed between them.

I rolled my eyes just as my pink watch still strapped to my right wrist beeped, reminding me that I had just thirty minutes before I had to meet Daniel.

I quickly got out a blue sweater and a pair of black sweatpants from my box.

Perhaps the only thing I liked about Brightway International School — besides the Quad and the library — was the fact that after school we were free to wear whatever we wanted just as long as it wasn't too racy.

Other boarding schools had housewears and Sunday clothes but we were allowed jeans and hoodies with muted colours.

After tying my hair at my nape I slid into a pair of black sandals and grabbed my glasses.

“Hey! Where are you going na?” Telemi asked as I was about to step out.

“She's right. You're supposed to help sort these, remember? First day of school, where everyone helps to hide the contraband before Mrs. Lawal comes up, ring any bells?” Kenny gestured toward the chocolates and junk food they were removing from her box. Grace had already joined them and was munching on a bar of Toblerone.

“I'm sorry but I have things to do. Don't let them eat my Twix or I will swear for all of you.”

I rushed out and prayed to God that Nurse Ogechi would spare me one of her ‘repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand’ sermons.

I was so engrossed in calculating how many minutes I would spend at the sick bay that I didn't see the other person coming up the stairs until we collided.

“Watch where you're going, you reject.”

The voice was like ice water thrown on me.

I fixed my glasses and the face of Teniola Bucknor became unwelcomely clear.

You know that one person that you've known all your life, that you can't seem to shake, that always competes with you for every little thing, that dislikes you for reasons you will probably never understand, that sticks to you like an incessant fly, that person for me was Teni Bucknor.

I honestly didn't have the slightest inkling why Teni liked to pick on me, it wasn't like she was lacking in the self-esteem category. With flawless yellow skin and wide hips, she was easily the prettiest girl in school — and she knew it.

Choosing not to say anything, I continued on my way down.

“Sorry oh, Sister Amarachi, I didn't know it was you.”

After hearing that nickname for two years straight you'd have thought I'd be used to it but the truth was it hurt every time it came out of Teni's mouth. Teni knew just how to push my buttons and I hated her for it.

I swallowed the hurt just as Teni's last words reached me.

“I have a confession later, Sister, I seek absolution from the lord.”

That you're an imbecile? Because if you're not you'll know that only priests can take someone's confession.

I took a deep breath and turned the corner into the sick bay.

No one came here because the girls would rather die of sickness than receive drugs and a complimentary, two-hour-long prayer session. Plus, Nurse Tolu that manned the nicer sick bay in school minded her business.

The sick bay was tucked in the farthest corner of the building. It was a fairly large hall that contained both the beds and the nurses’ office.

It was dimly lit and quiet. I walked down the row of beds to the sliding door that separated Nurse Ogechi's office.

I knocked and entered. I met Nurse Oge behind her desk, in her white nurses’ uniform reading a copy of Christian Women Mirror.

“Good evening ma,” I bent one knee in greeting.

“Ah! Amarachi, nwam, good evening oh, come in, sit down.”

Nurse Ogechi's Igbo accent was heavy as she adjusted her old-fashioned glasses and set her magazine on top of a stack of flyers about The Final Judgment — you could tell from the fonts dripping blood. Sometimes I wondered if she knew that there were nine-year-olds going here she would most definitely scar for life with her usual doom and gloom — that would no doubt end up in the students' rooms later.

“So how have you been?” She folded her hands on her desk.

I tried to forget the smell of disinfectant and old person that threatened to evict me from the desk chair and her office. I had a really sensitive nose and that tripled the scent, much to my displeasure.

“I'm fine,” I replied in the robotic voice I'd appropriated when talking to adults that asked stupid questions. I mean I'm in a nurses’ office, for crying out loud, how fine must I be? Just be asking stupid questions.

“Your mum called me and said you were having trouble sleeping, is that true?”

The horrible nightmare I had on Christmas Eve came flooding back and I almost got whiplash again from the impact of the car. My heart rate tripled and I almost burst into tears.

I thought that I could bear it. I thought that if I didn't acknowledge the morbid dreams that after a couple of months they'd go away, but they haven't. I've lived with them ever since until my mom found out recently.

I hated that my mom found out and instead of talking to me about it she immediately called a nurse as if she'd already branded me crazy.

As untrue as it sounded I did have a grip on my nightmare and the only reason I was here was that I found it hard not to do what I was told and if Nurse Oge could cure my nightmares — which I highly doubted — I'd be killing two birds with one stone.

“I don't have trouble sleeping, I have trouble staying asleep.”

Nurse Oge nodded like a wise monk before handing me a drug packet.

“That's a mild sleeping medicine, it should be just enough to help you sleep throughout the night, but, Amara, you need a permanent solution.”

I bristled thinking she was about to recommend a psychiatrist for me. Honestly, if she did nothing was stopping me from bursting into tears.

“Have you considered putting your fears to the Lord? Tell me, do you read your Bible every day?”

Yes, Amara, you have what you came here for, just say yes and get up and go.

What if she asks for my favorite Bible passage?

Then tell her Psalm 23 and get the hell out of here before she starts praying.

“No, ma,” was what I heard myself say and I kicked myself for my nonexistent lying skills.

“Ha! It's important oh! Jesus is the cure to every ailment. If you put your trust in him, he will take away everything that is bothering you.”

She then went on to waste five more minutes of my precious time, explaining and demonstrating while I just sat there watching the silver of her hair that peeked out from under her cap, wondering which one of us really needed that psychiatrist.

This is what you get for being a good girl.

“Do you hear me, Amarachi?” She concluded.

“Yes, ma. Thank you ma.”

I got up and refrained from sighing out loud.

I was almost out the door before she called me back.

“Amarachi, take this,” she extended one of the flyers to me and I fixed a tight smile on, accepted it, and ran as fast as my legs could carry me out of there.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, will be the last time I enter that sick bay.

Releasing a breath I emerged into the cool, evening air just as the sun was dipping in the west throwing the sky into a kaleidoscope of pink and orange.

I itched to grab a book and sit in the Quad to read but there was one last thing I had to do.

Tucking the white drug pack and the already folded flyer into my pocket, I made my way to the gate leading to school, praying that Daniel had listened to me for once and waited where I told him to wait.

Just as I was about to exit Mensah poked her head out of the gatehouse.

“There you are! I was just about to go and find you, you have a phone call.”

I groaned. Can't I just have some peace today?

I entered the gatehouse and sank into one of the couches. Again visions of lying down and sleeping crept into my head.

The gatehouse wasn't as tiny as it looked from outside. It had a desk in front of the maroon couch and even a plasma affixed to the wall. It was Mensah's office and you could see that she'd added her personal touches to the place like the pots of aloe vera, bookcases, and the portraits of President Danladi and Governor Emeike.

Mensah eyed my reclined pose from her place on the left side of the room, the side of bookcases behind her partially covering what little light coming from the window.

“I'm so tired,” I explained to her. “If it's my mum, please tell her I'm sleeping.”

The landline on the table sent out a shrill tone.

“That is for you,” she pointed to the phone, stomped her boot, and left me alone.

I took in a lungful of air that reeked of Mensah's floral air freshener and picked up the handset.

Setting it on my right ear I waited for my mother's high-pitched voice to sound.

“Mensah, is she there yet?”

“Daddy?”

Instead of my mother's voice, it was my father's cool, measured one that I heard and it made me homesick.

“Baby girl, how are you?”

I sat well and held the receiver closely. “Daddy, I'm fine, but I don't like that you didn't drop me in school.” I made sure he heard the pout in my voice.

He let out his signature deep, infectious laugh that made me smile.

“I knew you wouldn't like that, ngwa ndo. I will make it up to you.”

I perked up immediately. Whenever my father said those seven words a feast was to be expected because my father tended to go above and beyond when he knew you were angry with him.

“So how is Hong Kong? Have you eaten?” I started, pushing Daniel to the back of my mind.

“It's a little after one, I just got back from dinner with a friend so I have eaten, mummy.”

“That's good, don't work too hard oh.”

“I promise I won't. It was nice to hear from you, omalicha, I still have to call your brother's school, you face your books ok, and I will talk to you later. Tell Mensah thank you, you hear?”

“Ok daddy, bye.”

As I set the phone down I couldn't help the sharp prick of loneliness I felt.