All Kinds of Pain

Jessica Felicio-0883355c

This time I prepared myself, so when he came in I didn’t move, I didn’t turn to Iook at him. I put the drain stopper in place and allowed the tap to run until the sink was full, with the dishwashing liquid, I worked the water into a foamy mass on the surface then I turned in all the dishes, I did this every day for three days now, in preparedness for his visit, when he would come to have me in the kitchen.

“Hey, you are so calm today and undeniably radiant”, I smiled and quickly looked down hoping that he did not notice that my smile was triumphant.

“You have been waiting for me, sweet girl” he touched my face

“Yes, you did not come yesterday and the day before”

“Oh I was giving you the much-needed break”

I did not flinch when his zipper came off, in my heart, I prayed for strength to fight for myself, when his dick made contact with my dry vagina, I did not scream, when he pushed himself into me, I willed myself to be calm.

“I like you like this calm and obedient”, he smiled, I smiled back catching his reflection on the flush glass of the kitchen window. His free hands grabbed my full teenage breast, stroking my nipples, his lips nibbling the back of my neck, these things he did made my body respond on other days, not today. On nights after he had his way with me, I would beat myself, throw myself against the wall punishing myself, how could my body not know that it was being abused? Violated in the worst form there is, that what he did was by all societal standards wrong, a man I called Father. How could my body moisten in alacrity to receive his cursed penis?

I would console myself and nurse my wounds, promising that it would not happen the next time, I’ll align my mind and body to work together to reject him in all wholeheartedness. Then I’ll curse myself again for looking forward to the next time.

“This is not right, it should not have taken place and it should not repeat itself” I scrubbed my skin harder punishing it until my skin grew sores.

” You are not looking forward to a next time because you like it but because you need to show him that you do not, you will reject him this time” a voice within me would mumble in consolation. I screamed louder than I did the first not because I found the coitus painful but because I had been betrayed once again, my body had given way, after all, we discussed? An outright breach of contract, my spirit felt defeated, betrayal like a stab in the back from a dear friend pinning me down defenseless.

“Why are you screaming so much you like it” he would ask and put his hand over my mouth to block out my wails.

 

“What is wrong with you today”, he asked, frustration written over his face.

He took out a small bottle of lubricant from the back pocket of his trouser, silently I thanked God because if he had been too frustrated to go through with it my plan would have been ruined. I steadied as he smeared the oil on his palm and unto my genitals he slipped in again, moments later he was moaning with pleasure, his eyes shut as if that would help him savor me better, his mouth agape, his hand squeezing my breast as if he was milking them. I reached out beneath the foamy surface of the water and held firmly the knife I had put in there for this purpose, I caught his reflection again for the last time, this was the right time, now or never, no hesitation, his eyes were still closed, as swiftly as a cheetah jumps out of its hiding and ensnare its unsuspecting prey, I spiraled swiftly and ran my knife into his chest, for a split of seconds that seemed like forever we came face to face, me smiling, him shocked, for he has never thought that I would have the nerve to fight back, nine years was ample time to find that nerve. I ran my knife in and out of him, smiling, he came not out of pleasure but shock or maybe fear, the way he looked upon me, you would think he was looking upon a demon. On my fourth strike he steadied himself holding on to the kitchen counter, he grabbed one of the tumblers from the rack and smashed it against my head, I ran out naked, bleeding for the glass had pierced my skin. I screamed for help, the old man who manned the gate of the three-story lounge beside my mother’s bungalow turned out first. He came after me his hand holding a big piece of broken glass, my knife still in his chest, his trousers undone, dropped below his knee and his penis still hanging out, glittering in the sun he staggered drowsy for he was losing a lot of blood, he fell down a foot away from where I stood. Even though I was in pain and drowsy I laughed till my chest hurt. Soon people gathered. I squat, hugging myself in an attempt to shield my nakedness from the peeking eyes of my onlookers. Someone call my mum and she landed almost immediately from Araria Market as if Aba was a two-minute walk from our house. When she highlighted from her car and made her way towards me, I half stood forgetting that I was naked, hoping to hug her and tell her all the things he had done to me but she walk past me half running to where her lover, my abuser, laid like I did not exist.


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