Nigerian Story: The Last Trip Down The West 11
That feeling of being watched was there again. She could feel it. Something was not right. At first, she had thought that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but now she was pretty sure it wasn’t. Someone was watching her, what she didn’t understand was “how?”
She turned in the bed she was in and looked in duke’s direction. He was still sound asleep. Snoring his beautiful baby snore. She reached for the switch of the bedside light that was near her bed and switched on the light on her side, she looked around slowly but still saw nothing.
She stood up and went to the walls and started to look at them closely, not sure what she should be looking out for but looking out all the same. She didn’t see anything, so she collapsed back in her bed. Her thoughts drifted to the times she had had these same feelings.
A long time ago when she felt the hair at the nape of her neck standing attention. That night, alone under the staircase that formed her house. She used to cover her bed space with a piece of wrapper to at least give her some privacy. But she always felt haunted. There was this eerie feeling of being watched.
A feeling that someone was waiting, waiting for the moment to pounce. She had often dismissed it but one evening, she had been proved right. She was in the space that served as her room under the steps as usual that night, drowsy but not quite asleep. The space under the staircase that served as her room was obviously meant to have been something else entirely. It had small holes that seemed just big enough to take in a bottle of wine. Indeed, when she had first arrived, she had seen just one bottle of wine in one of the holes. The place had been meant to be a mini wine cellar of sorts. This particular day, something… or someone as she would find out had slipped into that space and instantly covered her mouth with a hand. She had at least opened her eyes to see who or what it was and what it wanted but it was pitch black everywhere. She wondered why it was pitch black and she tried to remove his hand from over her mouth to at least ask what he wanted. He held her down with one hand and pushed down on her so hard that she could not move any part of her upper body. The minute the body came in contact with hers, she didn’t need to wonder who it was anymore… only one person smelt like that, only one person smelt exactly like that.
“ if you make just one sound, you will be on the streets in a flash and ill have everyone make life hell for you out there .” He whispered.
Mary knew then that this was not a drive by joke. Her fourteen year old body reeled with pain as he forced her skirt up her thighs and his nails scratched through. Confused as to what to do, she had stayed still as he pulled down her old, slack worn out panties. When he pushed himself into her, she had bitten her lips in a quiet attempt not to cry.
He had withdrawn instantly… “what the f•ck is this… where the blood coming from? You in your period or what?” Mary was too shocked to answer. She didn’t understand what had happened to her. She had no information to prepare her for what had happened. She could see the blood. She knew menstrual periods were not supposed to flow like that, plus… it wasn’t that time of the month yet. So what was that? She concluded that whatever he had done to her had wounded her severely. That’s what it had to be… a wound. After the initial sharp pain, Mary continued to feel a dull pain, the guy had pulled out, disgusted by the blood. He had left but not before he whispered in her ears again that “ if you tell anybody, ill have you thrown in the canal.” Mary could swim. In fact, she was a swimming champion in her little town. But at that moment, she got the impression that no amount of swimming could save her from the clutches of the canal. She sat quietly still long after he had gone. Wondering what it was that had happened to her. Feeling like someone had driven something sharp through her body. The bleeding stopped, the pain left, he went away for a while…and she forgot that first experience. Until the next time.
Story by Nancy Olakunle
To be continued soon….