Wednesday, November 21, 2018
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BOOMERANG #3 ( Finale)

Finally, the Doctor had called me. Today would either confirm my fears or disproves it. I thought that I had mastered the art of taking control over my emotions, but I was wrong. After I received the call, all those thought came back and was as fresh as a new wound. My heart fluttered over and over again as I approached the hospital gate in my SUV car. I did not tell anyone that I would be going to the hospital. If anyone should ask them where I am, they would simply say, ‘work.’ Because that is where I have gone to this morning for all they knew but here I am in the hospital.

Back to my car, I could not put my car key appropriately into the ignition box. My vision became blurry and hazy. I could not think straight. The result in my back caused all these changes. My car lurched continuously as I drove home. My head was thronged with ideas. My head was so fuzzy that it was translated into a litany of soliloquy as though I was getting mad. I by-passed all the traffic signs, I disobeyed every single one of the driving rules. I nearly ran over school children who threw up curses and abuses at me when they marked themselves safe. One called me wicked jezebel and the other blood sucking demon. And I think they were not far from the truth because that was exactly what I am, but their judgement was stereotyped. They could have seen the effort I had made to becoming a better person.

She was the first person I met at home. She sprinted towards me and gave me a hug. I embraced her warmly and so tightly. I fought the tears but failed to hold them back. They came rolling down my cheek. It was when I sniffed that she noticed that I was crying. She tried all she could to wheedle me to talk, but didn’t succeed. It was not very easy for me to say it just like that. I was not fit to be her mother. She is fifteen now, but has never seen the walls of the school, not even nursery. I had tamed my own blood, my child, the bone of my bone and the flesh of my flesh. I had denied her my motherly love and care. I had punished her severely for no just cause. The only crime she committed was that she came out of my cursed womb when I was not ready to become a mother. I had used her as a slave in her own mother’s house. Her eyes had seen her ears in my hand. I had trained her as though she was a zombie.

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When I sat her down on the cushion in the seating room to tell her my stories, I asked her if she have anything to tell me before my story. She agreed to say something. She knelt down before me with tears flooding her cheek. She fumbled with her hands as she sniffed and cried.

‘Speak my child. There is no confession you would make that would be tantamount to mine,’ I assured her.

‘I didn’t want to do it. But he forced me to do it. He said if I did not allow him that he would send me back to the street where I belong. He even threatened to kill me in some occasions. He said he needed to have a child with me.’

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‘What are you saying,’ I cleared my eyes and sat up paying apt attention to what she has to say.’

‘Oga has been doing me that thing while you were away. He had done it many times Maa!’ she said and bowed down in tears.

I looked at her and pulled her up and embraced her. I whispered into her ears, ‘it is not your fault my child. Stop crying. It is well.’ I slouched as I went up to my room. I decided not to confess again to her. I have decided to end the whole drama. I brought out a paper and a pen from my bag. Flung my bag on the bed and sat down at the reading desk in my room and began to scrawl things down in my anxiety. It was a letter to my husband and my daughter. A letter that they would be reading by the time I have deleted myself from this world. I needed to end it now. I could not bear the sight of my husband who has been using me and my daughter at the same time. I could not bear to see my daughter whom I had ruined her future. I do not know how she would react to hear that I was her mother after all. What my husband’s reactions would be when he realizes the kind of life I had lived and how he had slept with the daughter of his wife still sends a bad augury. I have no reason to live. I have to end it all now.

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I put the letter inside the result. And made my way down stairs and I still met ijeoma crying. I pulled her up again and told her to stop crying as I patted her, bathing her with my tears. I left the letter with her with the instruction to give it to my husband when he comes back.

‘Where are you going that you could not give him yourself?’ she softly asked.

‘I would be long gone to the other side…’

‘What other side?’ she asked looking confused.

‘You will understand with time my dear’

I gave her my last kiss and hurtled up stairs. Locked the door and reached for the table knife I used to keep in my book shelf for emergencies. With it I slowly lanced through the veins in my hand and lay on the bed facing the ceiling and accepting my fate. I noticed how slowly my body ran cold as I lay in the pool of my blood. My vision became blurry and then I toppled over to unconsciousness with these words, “Forgive me my child. Forgive me my husband. In my next world if there is any possibility of reincarnation, I would like to make it up to you two, I would be a good mother and a good wife.”

… THE END.

Aninze Chukwuebuka Harrison

Part 1

 

Part 2

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