Dream Chasers part three

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The chapter three of this amazing story…

Funny how people think what they do today would not boomerang later on, some call it karma, some call it revenge, some name it reimbursement, some call it a good turn deserves another, but whatever it is known by, the fact still remains that whatever we do today has a rippling effect tomorrow, you see, my family was known to be one of the select few whose stubborn trait ran deep, some of us might have this gentle face and meek voice, you might jilt us, say unpleasant things that shouldn’t be said and we might not respond or deem it worthy of an answer, but never blow up a fuse in our heads while doing so, the funny part of this is that we never back down once our hearts are set on something and a little insignificant event or situation can trigger what will end up being what we always live to regret later on. We get all heated up whenever our fuses are blown and it goes both ways, either in the way we react to situation or people or the way we tackle them. This was the exact situation we found ourselves in at home, our dad was oblivious to the fact that the fuse had been lighted in my feeble mind and instead of dying as he had intended it to, it had instead got blown and there was to be no stopping it. Just remembering it now cracks me up when on one occasion I had written a short story, an adaptation or fan fiction of another story I had read days prior, it was a good story and seeing as no one was ready to read the original story, I decided to take it upon myself to make the new version palatable to their unsavory book tongues, to my utmost surprise and no one’s, the book was termed a waste of time and inexplicably seized, I have no idea where it ended up till now and just the thought of it had me thinking how long I had come without support in this field I had taken up. The book was a sign that times were going to get tough which my mum discreetly warned my dad about but as all men do, ignore it if you can’t acknowledge it, he dismissed that notion and told her to do what he believed women do best when it comes to parenting, look. He never took her advice on the matter or any matter as I grew up to know. He thought the best way was to distract me and he did that alright, by forcing more work on me than I thought possible, and distract me the work did, only I was not distracted enough, I was writing poetries by his time to escape the shackles of reality. I was finding it hard now to hide what was hidden within me that needed to come out, I only knew one way to do it, and I did, I wrote them down. This was by far the best idea I had had in forever and I was confident in it, only I didn’t know what was coming through was greater than what I envisaged, my idea was stolen, then sold.

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