Thursday, June 11, 2015

When In Nigeria - Chapter 18

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“Drop… that… baby…” she ordered him, pointing the gun directly at him. He steadily approached her. “Michael don’t make a mistake of underestimating me. I won’t…I’m not,” she shook her head as she spoke. “I’m not the same girl you used to beat on… now drop that baby or I’ll make you.” she looked him dead in the eyes and Michael was convinced that the woman standing in front of him wasn’t the one he’d married.

“Patricia, you and I both know you're not going to use that thing so stop waving that gun at me. Don’t make me come for it.” Michael threatened, not intimidated by the fact that there was a gun pointing directly to his forehead. He believed Patricia couldn’t harm a soul.

“Listen to me Michael, I really don’t want to have to use this thing,” she waved the gun at him, “But if you don’t let my daughter and I walk out of this room this minute, I’ll use it.” Patricia gained control of her shaky hands. She held the gun tighter. She had to stand her grounds. She was tired of being oppressed by Michael and everyone else.

“Patricia,” her mother called, knocking quietly on the door. “Patricia is everything alright in there?” she asked, hoping that Michael had been able to talk Patricia into staying.

“What do you think?!” Patricia shouted. “This man used to hit me and you brought him back to finish me off, is that right mom?  Is this how you’re supposed to love me?”

“Michael, is everything alright in there?” Mrs. Sade asked fearfully because she’d never heard her daughter speak to her in such a manner.

“Yeah Mrs. Philips. Everything is just right… Perfect.”

“No, it’s not. I’m pointing a gun at him and if he doesn’t let me leave mom, I’ll shoot him… neither of you can keep me here against my will.” Patricia stated confidently. Her father who had been listening behind her mother busted through the door and the loud, disturbing noise woke the sleeping child up.

“Patricia, we’re sorry,” he slowly advanced towards her with his hands behind his back. “Just drop the gun and you can leave with your child. We don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Patricia watched him and she saw the comfort in his eyes. She slowly began to drop her hands and her father hastened to her, embracing her as Michael cautiously removed the gun from her hands. A quick glance over at his wife told him to go ahead with their plan. Mr. Philip held his daughter tightly. Despairingly, he injected the fluid from the syringe he’d kept unseen behind him into her daughter’s backbone. Patricia felt the sharp sting of the needle into her bones and before she could escape her father’s arms, she felt her legs began to quiver. Her head felt dizzy as she sluggishly slipped away from her father’s arm and collapsed to the floor.

Mrs. Sade hurried to her daughter who laid lifeless on the bedroom floor. “I just hope we are doing the right thing,” Mr. Philip stated disappointedly, leaving his wife and Michael to carry on with the rest of their plan.
Patricia was awoken by the early morning sun. Her eyes felt tender as she tried to open them. Dried tears shut her eyelids together and as she opened her eyes, she cringed whenever the sun shone on them. Stretching fully on the bed, Patricia whimpered in discomfort. Her head was pounding and she couldn’t reasonably explain what had happened to her in the past hours. Getting her eyes to open fully, she was faced with a wedding portrait of her and Michael’s wedding on the wall. Horror kicked in. Forgetting the pain she’d felt hammering at her head, Patricia hopped out of bed. When she stepped down, she straightaway became aware of her surroundings.

Rushing to the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face, maybe this would help, she thought. She couldn’t tell how she got to Michael’s place but one thing she knew was the she couldn’t have arrived here on own free will. Coming back into the room, Patricia went into the closet that was once hers when she'd stayed in this same house with her husband and surprisingly to her, all her clothes, the ones she’d packed before were all in the closet. Okay, what the hell? Patricia stormed off, climbing down the stairs as fast as she could to get to the living room.

Upon getting to the living room, her worse night mare was sitting on a sofa with their daughter next to him.

“What are you doing with her? Don’t you dare touch my baby!” Patricia yelled as she snatched her baby away from Michael.

“Oh so now she’s your baby, huh? Six months ago you were so sure you wanted this child to never be born and now, she’s your child? Let’s not forget something wife, this baby is our baby… we made her together or would you like me to remind you?” Patricia shivered as Michaels words made her stomach turn. She shook her and attempted to leave but Micheal was fast, he pulled her back.

“You don’t walk out on me when I’m talking to you!” he shouted forcing her to drop the baby on her swing chair in the living room. “You think I’ll forget what you did and take you back so easily?” Michael asked, slowly backing Patricia into their kitchen. “You walked out on me, on our marriage,” he began to release his belt from his trousers. “… and Patricia, I warned you, you can never leave and this is what happens when you do so.” He took out the belt fully and before she could escape, he whipped her across the face with the belt. The metal part of the belt cut into Patricia’s skin as Michael continuously thrashed her right there in their kitchen.

“You went away for two months, how do I even know that you didn’t go to see your lover, huh? Are you seeing someone else behind my back? Answer me!” he yelled, lashing his belt into Patricia's back. She absorbed it all in. She couldn’t understand why she wasn’t fighting back. She felt drained and even when she strained to lift her hands to shade herself from his beatings, she'd felt too fragile to move a muscle. Her insides screamed for her to do something but physically, Patricia was powerless to do a thing.

When she heard her daughter’s impulsive cries from their living room where they’d forgotten the child, her rage sprouted. She dodged the next lashing as the belt came upon her.

“Oh, now you’re running way?” Michael said to her illogically as he advanced towards Patricia who had stired up enough strength to stand up. She knocked over a bowl of water in her attempt to escape from this man and Michael who was bitter and not cautious of his surroundings slipped and fell face down on their marble floor. The whole thing happened so fast that Patricia hadn’t even taken the time to look back as her thoughts only went towards her crying Hope.

Once she had her, Patricia came back to the kitchen to find her oppressor lying face down in the pool of his own blood. She covered her daughter’s eyes as she walked away. Patricia packed her things once again and headed for the door.

1 comment:

Thank you guys for always reading,