H-O-A

Helpless

Where should I start from? Who would I tell my story? Who would listen to me? When the cause of my problem are my parents.

Have you ever being told by your parents that you’re a disgrace? Or that they are ashamed of you? or that they regret giving birth to you? I hear that almost everyday.

Out of 3 children that my parents gave birth to, I’m the odd one out because I’m the only female. I have two brothers who are away in school.

Living with my parents has been nothing but a living hell for me. Sometimes I wonder if they actually gave birth to me. Everyday, every blessed day I’m being told of how different I am from my brothers. I can’t live upto their performance in school nor at home. I was considered a failure.

Even without doing anything I get treated worse than a slave. My parent’s favourite way of communicating with me is with my father’s belt. There was a time when my mother thought a man had dropped me off at home when it really was a taxi driver but his cab’s colour was different. Shee didn’t let me explain before she slapped me and called my father who also didn’t let me speak before unleashing his belt on me.I can never explain myself without them thinking I was arguing with them. It was always their accusations. I was depressed and most times I’ve thought of ending the pain but I’ve never been capable of it.

Today though is the best day of my life, believe it or not. I was in the kitchen washing the plates when my mum told me to start cooking rice for lunch and also wash their clothes at the same time. I didn’t complain, I couldn’t complain. I started heating up the rice and went ahead to start washing the clothes; I left the plates halfway. As I was washing the clothes my mum asked me to get recharge card for her, I left the clothes and went to get it. The first shop I went to didn’t have recharge card and so did the second shop, I had to go to a third shop that was a little bit far from the house. I got the recharge card but was a little delayed because I had to get change.

As I got to the front of the house I saw my mother waiting for me with her arms akimbo and at that point I knew I was dead. I got close to her to tell her I got her recharge card and was about to explain the reason why I was late but I received a hot slap instead. She pulled me by ears into the house and told me I had burnt the food. She started hitting me. I couldn’t talk, all I could do was scream. She didn’t stop hitting me till I hit my head against a sharp end on the wall and passed out.

I felt at peace.

Faintly I opened my eyes and saw my mum crying hysterically in front of the Icu and my dad trying to console her, telling her it would be “okay” and the doctors speaking as quietly as possible. I asked myself “why is she crying? Did they not cause this?”

I felt the sudden urge to close my eyes and let go. The doctors couldn’t save me.

The pain had ended. I hope my parents are happy.

**this story isn’t about me.**

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Comments

April 30, 2020 at 10:15 pm

Well that was intense, glad to know it’s not your story. Much love, stay safe ❤️



Arafat
April 30, 2020 at 10:29 pm

Ouchhhh?The story is so sad



Yatee
April 30, 2020 at 11:21 pm

Sad, someone else’s reality.



Eesh
May 1, 2020 at 10:15 am

I almost cried ??!!



Kiki
May 1, 2020 at 10:19 am

This short story is really emotional. It is really sad how some people deal with emotional stress all alone- and that too in an African home where people just say it’s a typical African way of showing love and support. Aside from that, I like
the use of words and how it empathize with the readers’ feelings



Machala?
May 1, 2020 at 9:33 pm

You just never know the value of what you have until you loose it



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