2
TRIGGER WARNING
I AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF SHOUTING AND SCREAMING.
I never thought that I could sleep with all the things that were going through my mind after Ken had tried to do bad things to me, but seeing that I woke up meant that I did sleep. My mind did decide to give me rest.
Thank God! I felt better.
The sun shone on my face, and for some strange reason, it made me afraid. I blinked continuously, as my eyes were hurting from sleeping so late. I thought they must be red from lack of sleep, but I didn’t bother looking in the mirror.
My heart skipped a few beats the higher the screams. I looked around to see nobody else in the room except me. A cool breeze came in from outside through the window, but I still felt warm.
My nightgown was transparent, and my yellow pants could be seen through it. I quickly wore a long shirt to cover up. I knew now that it was no longer safe to run around with pants.
Out of fear, I got out of bed and walked speedily to the parlour; I didn’t want to be alone for even a second. Ken was kneeling when I walked in, and Aunty Lisa stood before him, holding a belt. She started circling him like an animal that caught her prey. She looked tired, but she also looked furious.
I walked into the parlour to find Kens sister Anita begging on her brother’s behalf, yet keeping her distance. I suddenly felt this hatred towards her, even though I used to like her a lot.
Seeing her there, her brown eyes filled with hate and judgment for me, my every love for her evaporated.
I was meant to sleep with Bella in her room, but Anita suddenly came in at night and insisted that I sleep with my brothers in the other room. I asked why, and she replied that my Aunt Lisa requested that she sleep with Bella today instead of me. I was so stupid; I should have insisted, but I didn’t want Aunt Lisa to hate me because I didn’t obey her. My family still needed people like her.
Anita was just like her brother. They looked alike physically and otherwise. She was taller than he was by about two inches and skinnier, but they were both dark, like hardwood.
Anita’s nose was bigger than Ken’s, but her lips were smaller. Where Ken’s hair was cut short, hers was plaited with long hair attachment. His eyes were warmer than hers, showing in them fake goodness, a falseness I was once pulled to.
“Did you or did you not touch her?” Aunt Lisa asked, shaking me out of my thoughts. She took a threatening stance in front of him. I continued to hide behind the curtains; for some reason, I didn’t want her to see me. I didn’t want anyone to see me. I was ashamed.
“I said, did you touch her?” She screamed, this time around, hitting him with the belt.
That was the question she kept repeating. And I wondered if it was because she didn’t believe me or she thought she could beat the truth out of him. I doubted the latter, which left me with the former and sadness.
It was getting more awkward by the second. Ken wanted to say something, but he saw me and tensed up.
“Yes, but it’s not what you think, I swear to God!” He cried.
Why do people swear when they lie? I used to think that if you swore, then it definitely meant that you were telling the truth.
Even though I was taught never to swear, I believed that if you did have to swear, then it should be because you were speaking the truth.
I could feel the hatred in Ken’s eyes when he looked at me. I didn’t feel bad, though, because the feeling was now more than mutual. I hated him now, too. His eyes, which previously used to calm me down, now made me restless.
Anita kept staring at me, but I skilfully ignored her glances. I wanted to confront her, but I knew that if I dared to speak, I would only cry. To hell with me if I should give them that satisfaction of watching me break down. I was not weak.
“It’s not what I think, right? you will soon know what I’m thinking!” She screamed. She hit him with the belt again, and he cried out.
“Aunty, please believe me… I didn’t try to rape her.” He kept begging.
I couldn’t stand the sight, so I furiously walked out. The only punishment I thought he deserved was to be thrown out of the house.
At least I knew that it would have been the case if I was their daughter or a relation, or I had wealthy parents, but then I was not their daughter and not a relation, and I definitely didn’t have wealthy parents.
That’s society. The Rich always trampled on the poor every single time like we were nothing.
There was really no harm in giving me the same respect they would have given any of the above. Only that I was a nobody, just a simple girl. I thought, holding back the tears that threatened to fall as I walked to the garden.