Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Beaten But Not Broken
Labels:
Domestic Violence,
Fiction,
Married Life,
Speak Out
·
He
was in a really foul mood, i could tell. Fouler than usual. His murderous countenance,
the slammed door and that bark in response to the kids excited “Daddy!!!” were
dead giveaways. One look at his face and i had Semilore my eldest, take Nimi to
their room, praying silently and fervently that tonight would not be one of
those nights. Quick as i could, considering how heavily pregnant i was, i shuffled
into the kitchen to get his food. I wasn’t going to give him a reason to make
me the end user of his wrath.
After
I’ve served his meal at the table, i went to call him. He grunted a “Bring it
to me!” Thankful for at least a feedback even if it was a grunt, i went to
fetch his tray from the dining room. I was preoccupied with rending a song of
gratitude albeit inaudibly, to the forces-that-be for averting tonight’s drama
when my leg hit the edge of the bed and i nearly fell. In trying to regain my
balance, the glass of water i had put on the tray fell and splashed...on the
bed but mostly on him!Before i got married, I had a list of what i wanted in a man. A hot temper was not one of them but my husband, he scored a whooping 9 out of my 12 wants on that list. I figured i could deal with the hot temper. After all, everyone who’s been on the receiving end of his temper deserved it...sort of! I figured wrong!
I knew he was in a really foul mood that night; i just didn’t how bad he’s got it. No sooner had i opened my mouth to apologise, than he landed the mother lode of slaps on my right cheek! I SAW STARS, literally. The tray of food i was carrying slipped from my hands, emptying its contents all over the floor. Impaired vision would fetch same reaction from even the strongest. That night wasn’t one of those nights. That night was THE NIGHT! He beat me until i felt my water break. My God. Even then, he didn’t stop until he noticed i was doubled over in excrutiating pain, hugging my pregnancy. I don’t remember much after that. I think i passed out. I heard i was out of it for two days. When i woke, a beautiful baby girl was put in my bruised arms. My daughter. My third child for this man i loved...and i had no recollection of birthing her. He stole that from me.
I
should hate him with all of my heart but i couldn’t. I was bitter, yes but i couldn’t
hate him. Not when he was standing there by my bedside, eyes glittering with
unshed tears, pleading for my forgiveness and pledging his undying love. I
forgave him. Why wouldn’t i? He is my husband
and I love him. Nobody had it all. Nobody needs to know what he did. It was our
business and my shame to bear. Moreover, we were reasonably happy...
...until
that late night, two months later.In A Hopeless Place...
Labels:
Fiction
·
Speechless. This pain...too awful for words. Indescribable! This is not the sort of pain that a band-aid or some pain killers would alleviate. I wish it were. No, this is nothing physical and too terrible to be categorized under emotional. My heart was not just broken...it was sliced clean into two equal bleeding halves and nothing--except maybe a self-induced coma-- can stop the hurt.
That bitch of a sister. Slimy worm...
As sudden as it’s been coming, the urge to barf came again. I scrambled out of bed and made a mad dash to the bathroom, muzzy as heck. I barely cleared the doors before the bile surged forth, from within the depths of my stomach. I heaved over the toilet bowl for all of three minutes until my innards finally calmed. It has been like this for a few days now. I honestly hope i’m not pregnant on top of everything i have to deal with, i thought as i groped my way back to my sanctuary...my bed...in the dark. Time 04:17a.m
Life's Many Curveballs
Labels:
Fiction
·
Long post alert. There, you’ve been duly warned!
I stood, staring into space in front of the dressing mirror, wondering how & when things got this bad. Where had i gone wrong? Which step in the grand plan for our future did i miss? Where did it go awry? These questions i pondered as i stood there, sad, angry, lonely, hurt. I made to turn away from the apologetic image of myself in the mirror...and caught sight of the tray of food Obim hurled at me in anger as he stormed out of the room some minutes ago! And that was when the dam broke free. I wept!
I wept like i had never in a long time, like i never allowed myself to. I cried for all those nights i hugged myself tight and rocked myself to sleep, praying things would get better between us. I wept mostly because i miss the man i married, the man that was my pillar of support, my partner, my best friend...the man i consider gone forever. Most importantly, i cried because in some twisted way, this was entirely my fault.
Life didn’t use to be this chaotic in my household. Once upon a time, we were the subject of envy amongst our peers. Hubby had a great job as Senior Manager in his Bank. I wasn’t doing poorly myself. We had everything we wanted: well-paying jobs, nice house in a posh estate and the most adorable 6 year old! Life was great. Sigh! The curveball life throws at you when you least expects it…
I came home from school run that fateful day and there was Obim’s car parked at home. Now this is strange because he’s never ever home at that time of the day. Well, almost never except when he’s ill. But he was fine when he left for work this morning, i reminded myself, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that just washed over me. I entered the house and met him sitting on the floor in our bedroom, head hung, with hands on either side of it.
“Honey, are you ok?” I asked. He said nothing. I asked again and he mumbled some gibberish.
“Huh? Are you sick? Did someone die?”
Then i remember my mother-in-law has been feeling poorly...
“Is Mama....?” I started to ask.
“...was fired” He interrupted mid-question.
“Huh?” I went again, this time in confusion. “Fire? Your office caught fire? How? When? Was anyone injur....”
“I WAS FIRED”, he exploded!
I nodded, once, twice, calmly...almost too calmly [Shock will do that to anyone]. Yea, i totally heard him the first time. A burning building just made more sense at the time.
In His Time...
Labels:
Fiction
·
After i was wheeled into the Labor Room with Dennis by my side, the attending doctor stuck his hand inside of me, all the way to my stomach, juggled my intestines a few times [i swear] and nodded to the Labor Room nurse. It was time...i was fully dilated!
“It is time, Princess,” I whispered to my bump. “Try and make a quick appearance, ok? Mummy really really needs the respite. See you in a bit!”
Let me just say it now: there is no dignity in childbirth. None whatsoever! I screamed [woooo-saaaah did not work, biko!], cried, poo-poo’ed, sang praises, cursed Adam and Eve, wee-wee’d on myself, called on God, vomited, begged for my mummy, cussed out Dennis, the nurses and the doctor before Princess made an appearance. And then, I dozed off! The deed was done. I conquered.
I woke up to a bright sunny morning. The universe clearly understood and agreed with my mood this morning. I smiled! I have a brand new baby, my very own princess child. My world was complete. I turned away from the window and towards the cot holding my precious. I hadn’t seen much of her the previous night but from the little i saw, i birthed a winner: ten fingers, ten toes, head full of hair, pointed noise, dimples on either side of her face, pink lips. Perfection as far as i know. I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms, to let her suckle and nourish at my breast.
I swung my legs gingerly off the bed to the floor and pushed myself off the bed, holding unto the bedpost for balance. I was still sore from last night’s marathon and didn’t want to aggravate my “issues”. As i stood, I noticed two things at once: one, the baby was not in her cot and two, Dennis was in the room but he was on the phone, talking in whispers and backing me. This was one of the reasons why i married him; he is considerate to a fault. I smiled again and called his name.
His reaction to my calling his name was hella confusing. First, he jerked as though someone just stuck a knife at his back. Then, he seemed to recover and ended his call abruptly. Then, he smiled at me and held out his arms. I limp-walked into his arms and he hugged me tight. I love this man! Weird thing though, it seemed like it was just his lips smiling. His eyes were dull....and sad. Maybe he was just tired, i reasoned. It had been one heck of a journey bringing this baby into the world. Speaking of baby, i asked Dennis if he had seen her this morning and he nodded yes. The nurses took her to feed her since your milk hasn’t come yet, he said. I told him i wanted to see her. He said to hold on…the nurses wanted to check up on me first before they brought my Xarah and then he left the room to get the nurses. Xarah! My daughter! My heart swelled with pride. I am someone’s mother!
I lay back down and waited until Dennis came back with the nurses. One checked my vitals while the other sorta hung around, holding a syringe. Done with the vitals, the first nurse took the syringe from her 2nd and administered the injection to me. Routine, she said. They turned and left. They never once looked me in the eye. Come to think of it, they didn’t even say Congratulations. Strange folks, these people. I turned to Dennis to ask whether he was able to reach my mother....and drifted off to sleep.
I woke up to a really quiet room. Quiet but crowded. My mum was sitting by my bedside with my mother-in-law and my eldest sister. Dennis was standing at the door, head bent, in a subdued convo with his father. As soon as they noticed I was awake, they all came alive, chattering at once. I smiled. I was smiling a lot today.
“Have y’all seen my Princess Xarah?” I crowed.
And the room goes quiet again. Nobody made eye contact. I turned to Dennis.
“Where is Xarah?” I asked
He said nothing. Instead his eyes implored me to be strong. I forgot i was sore and clambered down from the bed and made a beeline for Dennis.
“Where is my daughter?! I want to see my daughter. Mummy,” I turned back towards my mother who was by now standing by her seat. “Mummy,” I whispered time almost pleadingly, “Where is my daughter? Why is nobody talking to me???!” I looked towards my sister; she was crying!
What is going on?! I faced Dennis yet again and knew within my heart of hearts that something had gone terribly wrong somewhere. His eyes shone bright with unshed tears. I pushed him out of the way, peeled open the door and half-walked-half-ran all the way to the nursery. No baby. I tore into the nurses’ bay and shrieked, Where is my baby?!!!!!!
I felt two pair of hands hold me and made to drag me towards the room. I felt my mother hug me so tight my bones ached. I heard her whisper, “God knows best”. I felt cold air wash all over me. I heard a piercing wail [almost like the sound of an animal in anguish] from around me. I took me a moment to realize the scream was emanating from me!
I screamed, and cursed, and shouted, and pleaded, and cried. I clutched my chest. It aches. My heart was breaking into tiny pieces and i had no idea how to stop it. I broke away from the hands holding me hostage and started searching door to door for my Xarah. This has got to be a joke….a huge joke. Of course it was a joke. Someone hid my baby is one of these rooms. I had just barged into the 2nd room in search of my daughter when i felt the pinprick on my arm....and i passed out cold, to the sound of Dennis crying.
Today, i buried my daughter.
I made sure she wore the prettiest sleepsuit in her wardrobe. Made sure her head was covered so she doesn’t catch a cold. I insisted they pierce her ears so she could wear my fav pair of gold stop-earrings. They didn’t think it was necessary but i also insisted she wore her diaper.
Today, i buried the first fruit of my womb.
I give her back to God. I am physically, emotionally, spiritually weak. I am tired. I’ve stopped attacking God. Each time I ask Him why, a voice whispers: In His time, He makes all things beautiful!
The hollow feel in my tummy acknowledges the fact that i carried a child to term and birthed it. The heaviness in my heart........ *sigh* You think that true love is the only thing that could crush your heart, the thing that could light up your day...or destroy it. Then, You Become A Mother!
This piece is fiction from the first to the very last word but it was inspired by, and as such i dedicate it to, my new friend Olachi who lost her 4th-borne at birth a few weeks ago. And to every woman that had lost a child at birth. He makes all things beautiful...in His time!
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