To break off the silence. I have decided to post the first short story I have ever completed. It was my project for my Creative Writing class a year back. Oh, and I passed btw 😏 And having gotten a good grade from Mr Kefa aka Ras Mengesha (LOOK HIM UP!!) was SUCH an honour.
Anyway I'm done with my tribute speech 😂😂 And here it is....
It’s
so easy to die.
That
is the only thing I have to say about this. I know it doesn’t answer your
question; it doesn’t answer any question for that matter. It just felt like the
right thing to say at the moment, this very awkward moment. In fact, I’m only
here because my best maid thinks I need this. I’m getting married in a week;
she says it’s important to clear out any unwarranted baggage from the past. I
don’t really have time for this. But maybe I need to just get it over and done
with and I’m here aren’t I? Advise me. Or do what you do and change my life.
You
look over at your notebook and ask me why I came. Again. I know why I’m here.
I
was twenty. It feels like it was so many years ago, I suddenly feel old.
Anyway, I was twenty. You nudge me to go on and I can feel you ease into a
comfortable sitting position, the leather chair betrays you. You’re really
enjoying this; I might as well get you a cup of tea and some crackers. I look
around at your seemingly dull office. It reminds of that day in June. A cold
day it was. Coldest day of my life. I don’t want to go back there ever again.
That state of mind I mean. I sigh. Loudly. I hope you notice how uneasy I am
and I desperately hope you’ll tell me it is okay and I don’t have to do this
and I still look like I have it all together…
I
was at a function. A farewell party actually. A friend of a friend. I knew
only one person there, but there was drinks and food, I managed to make some
acquaintances at the table. He was tall. Maybe that’s all there was now that I
think about it. Needless to say, he did sweep me off my feet and that was the
beginning of my fall. I wasn’t necessarily upright then, I was young. His aura
was a darkness that I found appealing and dangerous. And real. But that day is
quite irrelevant in this story.
You
want to know about him. You say it will be important in understanding why I
view him as baggage. I don’t think it will make a difference. You insist.
You’re almost as stubborn as Charles, always thinking he’s right. Well he was
most of the time; he was a lot smarter than I. He had money and ambition.
Girls like that kind of thing. He was good to look at, if that’s what you mean
by "tell me more". He was a sturdy man yet he was light on his feet, it was easy
to tell in how he seemed to glide across the floor. It fascinated me. His brown
eyes were deep and held a lot of secrets that I had the unlucky privilege of
knowing. His laugh was hearty and loud and he was quite unashamed of what his
ragged self presented to the world.
He was not the type to take home. He was my
secret. I was his getaway. We escaped to each other. Not many knew of our
forbidden union, they didn’t need to anyway when you commit a crime you don’t
announce it. It was a distraction for a while. Then it soon became a habit and
an addiction and I soon couldn’t remember how I lived without him. It sounds
over-dramatic but I kid you not, my life soon orbited his. It still does, even
if he isn’t around he still controls some part of my decision-making process.
You
want to know what happened between me and him. It’s complicated. It’s hard to
find the words…
It is hard to find words without contempt and bitterness as now
that I remember him I can feel the possession begin again. The gullibility that
I thought was sweet at the time. I was living for the moment. I glance straight
past you to the mantelpiece and you have only one picture. Of a dog. Yours I
presume. You must be lonely. I think I understand - although I have never been
a fan of animals; or children. I have a phobia of babies; paedophobia they call
it. Maybe more now coupled with haunting memories of a long night.
Charles
had just arrived in town from a business trip. So he said. It was not a concern
then, I basically ate up everything. He’d told me he had something to tell me and to wait
for him at a popular coffee place, I was nervous. We didn’t do appearances, but
I trusted him. And I had news for him too. So I waited, and waited. It had been
three hours, I was impatient and I had other things to do. I was really just
going to go home and sleep so I sent the “I’ve left” message and waited some
more. The force behind this kind of tolerance is a mystery to me because I can
hardly wait for my nails to dry. He showed up just as I picked my bag, with a
friend behind and a drink beside him. I’m sure that wasn’t allowed here but he
didn’t care much for rules. Also he was drunk. I had never seen him like this.
I wanted to run. I should’ve run. But I hadn’t seen him in so long and when his
smile beckoned me out the restaurant, I saw no other choice.
It
was a rainy night and we had barely made it to his house in one piece. The car
had swerved so many times but he had insisted on driving because he had to drop
his friend at a party. I made some coffee and got him a blanket. I hadn’t
realized how fast I was beginning to show affection and care. He’d said he had
a surprise for me from The Emirates but the state he was in, I thought it wise
not to bring it up.
“Claire…
Claire..?” I reached out for the remote and put the movie I was engrossed in on
mute. I didn’t know he was awake. I
turned to face him and he was already up, and staring. He stayed quiet for a
while and I just sat there taking it all in. Silence with him was never
disconcerting; in fact, they were the moments I looked forward to. It was a
rare thing.
“Claire, what if I told you that I am running away?”
I
admit that I was caught off guard. I didn’t understand what he meant and soon
after noticed that he was not waiting on a response, he was gathering his
thoughts. He paused for a while then mumbled up something in his drunken state.
“Did you know that I have no family?” he whispered in an attempt to sound
discreet. There was sadness in his tone as he went on about his father whom he
claimed hated him and was out to make his life a living hell.
“You know… I’m
here but I’m going.”
“Going?
Going where Charles?”
“Me…
I’m leaving this house. He’ll catch me. He’s a bad man Claire. He took my
business... he took my business he wants to kill me…” He frantically tried to find
the words to express what I could only assume was anger and hurt.
“Claire
he’s a bad man I tell you I have to move. Tomorrow, tomorrow even.”
He
attempted to get up and he picked up a pillow I imagined he thought was his
bag. I sat him back and told him he had to calm down and that we would talk
tomorrow. I thought he was intoxicated but the more he rumbled on the more I
was skeptical he was strangely aware of his actions.
“Even my mother and brothers can’t… no one
can… He…” then he broke out into a still cry.
I
shift in my seat as I recall that night. I had never witnessed a man weep and
it truly was everything it was said to be, melancholic. I was too young to
experience such great sentiment from a man I was not sure was mine and I did
not know how to react.
You look deep into my eyes with such empathy and I hate
what this monologue has become. That night is so lucid and for the first time I
saw Charles for who he was, a young frightened boy and it ached my heart,
however naïve it was. That night we talked- rather he talked- about a broken
family I hardly knew existed. About a mother who couldn’t defend her children
from a man who terrorized the very core of her being. A powerful yet useless
man. And a son who was trying to make a life for himself, one who hadn’t had
time to grow up, one who didn’t enjoy his childhood like most boys did.
Defending his family from one of his own was a painful reminder that there was
no God.
I
also had a surprise for him on that night. It’s why I had waited that long for him
to arrive because I needed to talk to him. I needed him to know about JJ. I had
just found out a few days before and hadn’t told anyone yet. I was not excited
or anxious; I just knew he would help me solve it. You ask who JJ is. I find
that offensive. I don’t see why I have to explain that.
I haven’t thought about
JJ in a long time and I want to take a bathroom break. But it might be
psychological, it’s all in my head you try to convince me. I get shifty every
time he comes up, even as a thought; it’s a reflex I’ve not been able to
recover from.
What
really happened? Well that night was
emotional and I learnt a lot more than I should have; and then we made love and
then he broke down again and I did too because I knew deep down this was the
last time I was going to be with him. Because he was not ready to be a father and
I didn’t need that to be spelled out. And I left the next morning never to
return again. He called and I ignored and we continued the dance until he got the
message. The message I so desperately hoped he would disregard because
I was alone and I had made a life-changing, no, a life-ending decision.
I
remember being in that white room, a little too much for my liking. It was all
plain and intimidating. I lay there, face up, waiting on the nurse and
contemplating my misguided miscalculations of how I had presumed this would turn
out. This wasn’t an option before but I was not ready to go through parenthood
on my own. Then I thought, what would mother say? She raised an innocent girl
as far as she was concerned and what about father? He would disown me if he was
to ever find out about this, his baby girl about to be a statistic. What would
future me do? Would she handle it? I got up off the creaking bed covered
shoddily in off-white sheets, changed quickly and walked out. I met the nurse
at the door and she didn’t even stop me. I think they had met a lot of these
cases before, she was not really alarmed. She just made it abundantly clear
that it was non-refundable. I didn’t
care about the money.
One Thursday, I woke up unusually early and it had been two months of avoiding
Charles and pretending that I didn't need him. And as I sat on the cold toilet
seat in my seemingly dazed state, the uneasiness and discomfort and eventual
nerve-wrecking pain assured me that this was it. After deciding to hold on and
having finally come to terms with my fate, I was still losing him. JJ I mean. That I
did and I suffered one long month of both physical and psychological agony not
having started my grieving process yet. The depression went on for months on
end and when my birthday arrived, I had nothing to celebrate. I was thin and
weary and alarmingly in need of love and food. I had no appetite for both and I
was inconsolable.
If
you’re wondering what happened to Charles, I wish I knew too. He probably ran
and ran forever. I’m old now and I’m getting married and I cannot think about
what was and what would have been. How I did I survive? I eventually got over
everything . Charles that is. But you’re not asking about Charles are you? I
dealt with it either way and read the bible, once or twice. I ate and got fat
and lost weight and other drastic things happened like dropping out of college.
My parents prayed and prayed and their God answered their prayers. I met a man
who was ready to help me get on my feet again. I met him in a conference - mother had insisted I attend because it was full of 'good Christian men' - and he
talked me into going back to school and working on my dreams again. And he
checked up on me. And he had a functional family, one that laughed together.
He’s the one I’m going to marry. He’s the one that stayed. He’s the one that didn’t
run.
Does
my mother know? Do my friends know? Does the man I’m about to commit to for
eternity know about JJ? Well that’s what I’m here for. What do you think? I
think I’m fine. You’re the one supposed to listen to me and tell me whether I
should break down all this information in a week. I haven’t talked to anyone
about this before and it’s not as refreshing as many think. I hope I didn’t waste my time.
You close your
notebook and fold your arms. I cross my legs and wait and watch you wrap your
mind around all this information. I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night and
I only have a week.
