She rolled on the hard bed, trashing and kicking, pulling at the threadbare sheets. She was fed up with the vulgarity around her even the room gave off an aloof coldness. The blue walls mocked her with silence; she wasn’t on the right part, she would never be. Voices filled her head day and night, many silent whispers, communicating vital secrets she would never decipher. She was fast losing her sanity in this room. This room she was never to leave, she was destined for madness.
The most tormenting parts were the nightmares. Nightmares that had seeped into reality, it was the same every night. Sir would crawl under her covers and rub her thighs violently, he would fondle her breasts while she just watched him, as if seated in some theater far away, watching some newly released movie. She couldn’t understand exactly what she felt; she felt great pity for the victim in this tragedy. Not herself, she was strong.
Today the two weeks fast was fast draining her senses, she could feel herself ebbing away, trying so hard to escape back to her dark theater. She couldn’t. Today she had to be the victim, blinking back bitterness like the girl she pitied. Sir was sticking his fingers in between her thighs now, taking is fingers deeper and deeper into her. He contorted his face at the same time, he spoke in a hushed tone “sacrifices need to be made in order for you to break forth”, he pulled down his pants, now panting and sweating “break forth” he kept reporting sliding into her. The pain was deafening “Break forth” rang in her ears like the Sunday church bells. Sir screamed these same words on the altar made of gold, she always felt that it could feed Nigeria. He gesticulated up and down his familiar altar in an impressive way coining new terms and words out of thin air ”Godmosis is to diffuse and become one with God”, he proceeded to barking demands at God “Shower your children with riches”. Sir exerted so much energy, wiping his sweat and jumping.
She could testify he was strong so she never left the room like he instructed, fearing the curse of the world, the danger that lurks at night and arrows that pierce at noonday he always spoke about. She could still hear his stern voice that Thursday night as she ran to unlock the wooden door. She dragged her frail frame dying from the two weeks fast into the cold night. She ran out not looking back, bracing herself for the arrows to pierce her sides. She was prepared to end it all.
That was before nothing happened, no thunder struck, no hurricane shook her feet “Break forth” she screamed into the night smiling.