A Stitch In Time

I shivered one more time not sure if it was due to how my life had turned out or the cold night wind blowing through my barely covered body.

I cringed as tears blurred my vision. If only I saw a clearer one in time…vision I mean.

Either way, I felt chilled to my bones and all I wanted to do was hide from the world. But what good would that do? Even with clothes on, I felt naked. Naked- like I had been on several occasions beneath and on top of several men, mindlessly.

It was so long ago yet it felt like yesterday when it all began and I could see now again, all the happenings unfolding themselves before me.

My eyes fell on a hefty, muscular man as the entrance door of my house opened. My mom was all over him and dragged me roughly to a corner afterwards: “You better not mention this to your father”.

I turned mute, as usual. I knew what she was doing was wrong even though I was only seven but taking a peep of them was like living in heaven to me.

I watched this go on and on till I finished primary school and by the time I was in secondary school, I was just like her…maybe even worse.

Ronke, my bestie whom I shared all my feelings to was way worse than I ever was and she advised me to watch erotic videos. ‘They help to spice things up jare’, she would always say.

I listened to her and even started masturbating to ease my sexual tension.

And so, whenever I couldn’t find a willing partner or was just bored, I watched porn and masturbated.

I never wanted anything else from most guys, none of my relationships lasted longer than after the sex anyway.

Each sexual encounter set the stage for a new partner and I just keep going through them like pure water.

Like dominoes, one bad move brings everything else down…till there’s nothing left?

Until…well, until I ended up like this. I wish I could say more, I wish I could express myself further. I wish I could rewind the clock and do the right thing, help you see that I’m not such a messed up person, just a victim of circumstance.

Another picture of the smirk and groans from my mom made me cringe. I felt that way the first time I did it with Ali our driver but what has it brought me?

My poor dad in his grave didn’t know that his little angel had turned out to be a disgrace and going back to that house would only bring further queries from that monster who called herself my mom, the one who scarred me for life.

So I closed my eyes and slit my wrists at just the right spot, ignoring the pangs of pain I felt.

Soon, all the life blood would drain out of me, I’d forget the evil names people were calling me on social media, I’d forget my expulsion due to the scandal with the registrar, I’d forget my mom’s face mocking me every night in my dreams and I’d leave it all behind.

Maybe I’d even get to see my dad after the end came. Maybe just maybe.

– Collaboration by @thegraceola x @macschizy

?: Pexels


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