CHAPTER 1- When my life was just a normal life

My name is Nomvelo Precious Shabalala. I was born in a well-known city, Johannesburg in Gauteng and I am currently 26 years old and I have a brother who's currently 28 years old and his name is Mpendulo Patric Shabalala. We were both born in a very wealthy family known for its commitment when it came to education. My mother Thembisile Gloria Shabalala was a surgeon and my father Nkosinathi Joseph Shabalala was a soilder. Our parents were never there for us throughout our education journey. They were always busy with work. 

When I was 16 years old and my brother was 18 years old we used to be taken care of by our care taker whom I adored so much, who I used to see as my mother. Her name was Luthando and she was only 22 years old, taking care of us to make money for her studies. She inspired my brother and I a lot. She used to encourage us to do better at school more than our parents did. She was always there for us, even on our darkest days. I felt a very strong connection whenever she was around me but I just thought it was because of the love that I had for her. My brother always passed with straight As at school as he was always top of his class. As for me I always had a lot of love for art . Everything I saw , everywhere I went turned into a picture of art. My art work was not as amazing as my grades. My parents would always shout at me for not excelling at school. I did not see much to academics than what I saw in art. My life felt more normal when I was doing art. Taking photos of nature and drawing made me feel like I was in my world of fantasy. Even in my sleep I would dream of myself as a very successful artist. I would always display my artwork all over my room but whenever I went out I would hide it. My parents hated the fact that I put more effort when it came to my art classes that I attended every after school than my academics. They even threatened to make me quit the classes. Sometimes my mom would tear my sketchbook and break my colour pens because of her work frustrations. I only got to live my dream life in my dreams where life would be normal for me. My only support structures were my brother, my caretaker and my teacher. 

My teacher loved my work , she once told me that my work was more exceptional than of a grade 10 learner. I did not care much about academics . What mattered to me was my talent and my loved ones. About my parents I was not even sure whether I loved them , my mother was always absent and never cared even when she was there. As for my father he was always away on wars in other countries, I was not even sure whether I loved him or not because how can you love someone you barely know, a person who you can't even tell if he's happy or not because you don't know him that well. My life was more of a mess when it came to my parents but the moment I put my mind and hear into art I forgot all about that. That's where I found my comfort.