Broken!
861 Words
Slowly I opened my eyes. The room that was initially lit with bright lights were dark except for a small torch by the side. I tried so hard to recall what happened.
I remembered I was sitting down on a chair, but not anymore. I was lying on the bed. I jumped up as the realization of what had happened hit me.
I looked round the room. I was all alone. Where the hell is Max? The last time I remembered, he was in the room. I stood transfixed.
I still had my clothes on. I silently prayed that my thoughts were wrong. I wished that God changed Max's mind and that he didn't end up r****g me.
Should I call it a r**e? I mean, what exactly was I expecting when I dressed up to visit a man in his house.
Standing, I looked at the bed frantically. Hoping to see traces of blood on the bed at the same time wishing I'd not see any.
I didn't see any. I didn't know if I should be grateful or happy or sad. But the bed had bedsheets when I arrived, where did they go to?
It was then that fear gripped me. What if Max was a cultist? So, he actually waited this long for me to step right into his trap.
I tried to be optimistic. Maybe he didn't r**e me after all. I made to move, but the sharp pain I felt in my external genitalia told me otherwise.
I broke down, completely shattered. The tears fell on their own accord. The pain intensified. What will be my story?
All along I've kept myself, even fantasizing on how my first night will be when I eventually get married. But here I was, not knowing how it felt to loose ones virginity.
In my mind, I tried to trace how all this started. But it was pointless, the deed has already been done. Why does it have to be this way. Max why?
My tears graduated, it won't be called crying no more. I wept bitterly. I was bittered. And it was at this time that Max came in .
"Oh! Baby you are awake?" He questioned like nothing happened.
I couldn't find the strength to answer him, I hated him terribly. It was obvious from the look in my eyes.
Apart from the fact that I cried for a long time, anger and hatred also darkened my eyes. It became red.
"Come on dear, chill! You look like you are about to kill someone" he said laughing.
I didn't understand what was funny. He didn't know that I could as well kill him.
He tried to calm me down, telling me that he didn't mean for all this to happen this way. That he had always wanted us to have s*x on mutual agreement but from the look of things, I wasn't going to agree.
He told me that he has always loved me and that he still loved me more after what happened. He said he was still willing to marry me.
My heart was filled with rage. I had a lot of anger to pour out. How can he say he loved me when he had the guts to r**e me. Really? Who expresses love through r**e?
Having nothing to say to him at the moment, I grabbed my bag, wore my shoe and left. I didn't wait to be shown the way.
It was already dark outside. I only thanked God that I didn't go there from my home, else what explanation would I have given to my parents for coming back that late.
Days passed, Max kept calling me, but I wasn't ready to answer him. The pain was still engraved in my heart. It haunted me every passing day. The hatred was still boiling.
Three weeks later, I decided to answer his call. I still hadn't gotten over the past event. I didn't tell anyone, I couldn't tell anyone. For I know they'll all blame me. Everything made me sick… terribly sick.
Who would pass through such case and not feel sick. I answered his call only to tell him not to ever call me again. He pleaded with me, assuring me over and over again that he loved me and he was willing to do everything to make it right.
I wasn't willing to listen to him, all I felt for him was hatred. I wanted him dead. After the call, I broke down again. I cried so much that I got a headache.
I fell sick. Down with hyperpyrexia, I decided to go for self medication. I bought some anti malaria, antibiotic and an analgesic. Upon completion of these drugs, I still felt sick.
It was past five weeks after the incident and I still felt sick. The drugs I took didn't do much for me. The truth was I stopped taking care of myself.
I woke up one morning with nausea. It was only then that it dawned on me that I was already some days late.
I felt the real fear. God! I can't be pregnant… the thought alone got be terribly shaken. It can't be!
What do I do? I thought to myself.
The first thing would be to get a pregnancy test strip...
©️ Peace Obioma
#HappilyEverAfter.
#TillMyInkBleeds.
#PromisedPeace✍️.
- Writer
