"Why are you here? Did you forget an item of yours in this place?" I asked my mother. I could not even bring myself to call her my mother because it made my heartburn like the fresh revealing of a scald.
I clenched my fists hard as I squinted my eyes in anger, trying my hardest not t cry since I already made a promise to myself to never shed a tear over human relationships. Mustafa stood still next to me, not knowing what to do but had stopped bothering me as to how to calm me down because he knew it was of no use.
My mother stared back at me, her lips quivering, her hands as shaky as that of an autumn leaf; her irises dribbling from one side of her eye to the other as tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Why the hell are you crying?" I asked her, not being able to stand all of her mushy acts any longer.
Mustafa gave me a gentle pat on the back and just as I was about to yank his hands off me, thinking he was trying to calm me down, he disconnected them from my back by himself walked past us, heading for the foot so he could leave my mother and me to talk which I am grateful for.
Then he mouthed a few words to me since my mother isn't looking and I am lucky enough to read what his lips are saying; "we would contact your sister after she leaves." He said, pointing at my mother to help me understand what he means then he walks in through the door and shuts it behind him.
I could not even give a reply because somehow, the entire situation puts me on a pedestal. My elder sister who is a lawyer does not believe that my mum sold me into slavery so there is no way she can draft a case against her mother. I can not do that either. I can not imagine asking my sister to help me investigate our mother. That is a mission impossible and it is entirely messed up.
My sister is a just lawyer though. She imprisoned her daughter's fiancé because he raped my younger sister when she was twelve years old, but that was pretty different even though the guy eventually got amnesty and got engaged with my niece.
It is inexplicably painful to know that I can not possibly take any actions against my mother. All I can do is to avoid her, and harbor the pain, the anger, the betrayal, and the disappointment that I feel knowing that she is my biggest enemy.
This has to be the most painful thing to ever deal with - knowing your enemy but not being able to fight them because they are unfortunately close to you.
I know Mustafa did not think of my mother as the culprit when he said that because I'm sure he does not believe my mother is behind the incident that just happened either. I know he is trying to believe that it is someone else who is responsible for it as the loan shark but I know the truth better than anyone else and that same truth is what is putting me in an extremely tight spot.
Sincerely, it's very unbearable. Every single thing about this mauls at every fiber of my heart like the paws of a grizzly bear, giving my heart, ugly and permanently painful stretch marks.
I mean, I can't investigate my biological mother like some criminal. I really can not do anything against her. Even if I try to, my siblings would wage an unending war against me.
"I don't have all day here. As you can see, I'm just coming from the hospital and I need to rest. So state why you are here already and leave." I said, speaking a little above my voice and then grasping into my sides as a sharp pain coursed through my waist.
"Why did you go to the hospital? What happened?" She managed to speak over the numerous tears that had subdued her vocals. Then she made a step to approach me but I put a hand, signaling that she stays right where she is. She halts fearfully, not daring to move, even when my body is hurting badly now and I can barely stay balanced on my feet.
"You know what sickens me the most about you? The fact that you pretend so much even when the truth is staring right at you in the face, waiting for you to own up to it. Now you are up to something again and thanks to you, my driver died a week ago. I would have died too. I know you are here expecting to hear news of me missing or even dead but it breaks your heart to see that I'm alive not so?
Tell me, why wouldn't you stop gambling over me? Aren't you rich enough already? Like what the heck did I ever do to you? You have been lying to me all my life. Why do you go out of your way to show that you hate me so much and then show up acting like you are innocent? Does it make you so happy to see me sad? What is it that you want from me exactly? I mean, HOW CAN A WOMAN WHO BORE ME IN HER WOMB FOR NINE MONTHS BE THE MASTERMIND BEHIND MY PAIN, MY CAPTIVITY, AND MY EVERLASTING BITTERNESS? Just why??" I screamed at the top of my voice, extremely frustrated.
Those tears ran down my cheeks now even though I'd promised not to shed them. I am so tired and done with everything. I mean, what's the point of trying to get rid of an emotion that eventually always resurfaces and even comes back stronger later in your life? What's the point of being trapped beneath numerous shadows that you can't even decipher its origin? What's the point of trying so hard to get what you can out of life? What's the point of trying to make progress when you only end up going back to square one? What's the point of living? Though, what's the point?
This woman has given me the hardest time of my life. I mean, I have never met anyone this cruel, and this crooked a person. Honestly, she's such a stranger that means anything but good for her children. She makes irrational decisions and constantly does the most stupid yet the most dangerous things.
I mean, it's the same woman who cursed my brother's wife when she was a lot younger simply because she thought it was her family that poisoned her deceased daughter, my late sister. My brother and his family went through a whole lot thanks to a terrible curse she uttered from her mouth. They had even lost their son and their daughter, Jane was so unhealthy, that she had nearly lost her life as well.
She is so irresponsible and has no idea what it means to be a mother; she does things anyhow; speaking before thinking, acting before deliberating, and making hasty decisions before planning and she seemed to have no inkling how badly her actions were affecting the people dear to her.
To me, if it wasn't for her reckless and immature behavior, my dad would not have died the way he did. I don't care how he died but I know, it was because of an accumulation of the trouble this woman had caused him. She sure did give that poor man a heartache.
I mean, I used to think she was a good mother and was changing for the better when I saw how she stood up for my sister, Demi, and my brother, David, but seeing the pain she caused my brother, Alex and me, her greatest victim of all, I realized that it didn't matter if she was a good person to my other siblings.
In fact, Why did she let David suffer for nothing, leaving to think he was the one who murdered our sister, Shinayo? Although, it's partly David's fault anyway because he couldn't stop blaming himself for what he never did, why couldn't my mother reach out to him, act motherly enough and try to find out why my brother was always so sad?
My two elder brothers honestly just suffered for nothing without a parent figure to help avert the problem.
Her bad deeds overweighed the good ones and her bad deeds had caused way too much damage, rendering the good deeds completely useless.
Debilitating.
"I have no excuse, my love. I know what I did was unheard of. No mother who truly loves her child would ever attempt to sell her child into slavery. I love you but I didn't know how to love you the right way. I didn't love you in any way, I only showed the exact opposite because yes, I have been very very irresponsible, and immature from the onset. I admit to all of these things but please, would you at least let me show you something?" She pleaded desperately, her face wet with several streaks of tears and fluids from her nostrils that had spread around her cheeks. Her eyeballs were nearly the shade of crimson.
"What is that?" I asked, totally not knowing what to expect.
She then reached for a section in her handbag and unzipped it. Then she brought out an old piece of paper. When I mean old, I don't mean rumpled or torn. I mean, ancient. It looked more like a scroll from the sixth century. Then, she unrolled the piece of the scroll and handed it over to me with shaky hands.
I retrieved the paper with one hand as I was still holding the left side of my waist in pain with the other hand then I tried to figure out what was in the scroll.
I saw two, different signatures on both sides that seemed to contain the entire scroll. Then I saw my mother's name on the top with what I was guessing to be her signature right beneath it. With a quizzical look on my face, I ask her what the scroll is all about.
"T-that is proof that I paid the loan shark the amount I borrowed from him. I recently just found the scroll after years of searching for it. Immediately I found it, I came here to show it to you.
This document is proof that, even though I attempted to sell you into slavery, I wasn't responsible for your abduction. I know it makes no sense to you because there's no one else you can suspect but me. After all, you saw the loan shark with your two eyes that day, but I swear it, even upon your father's grave that I fulfilled my part of the contract. He kidnapped you because he wanted to and not because I didn't pay him back..." she paused, trying to study my expression, to know how I had absorbed the information, then she sniffed in, more tears streaming down her eyes and she continued.
"How I wish your Dad was alive to testify to all of this because God knows it would have been hard for me to pay the money back. Your dad didn't speak with me for three months after he found out that I made such a deal with a total stranger but he hustled and worked hard to fetch the money and was able to pay it to the loan shark. God knows that asides from these things, I know nothing of why you were kidnapped and enslaved. Please, believe me."
"Why did you borrow money from him in the first place? Even if you did, then why him? I mean, that man looked like a beast from hell telling his physical appearance alone talk more of the gruesome things that he did to me. Just why? What if dad was unable to work for the money because of his bad health? It still does not change the fact that you are freaking guilty mum! Because according to you, you- no, Dad paid the money but I still got abducted. How can you ever justify yourself for the wicked thing you did? What difference does it make? Everything you said does not change a damn thing!" I fired.
She put everyone at such a risk and was still trying to explain herself. It doesn't remove a single strand of the truth that I still eventually became a slave. To hell with her stinking explanation.
"I know. I know it does not change anything but I'm sorry. At least for your dad's sake, please forgive me. You have been away from me for too long. I miss you and I miss my grandchildren who don't even know me because you have kept them away from me. Please forgive me." She cried.
Just as I was about to snap back and ask her why she is even missing me and my kids, my phone vibrates against the pocket of my jeans. I fold the scroll, hinging it in my arm as I reach for my phone. I see a message from the notification bar and I click on it.
Then my eyes go wide and my jaw drops, seeing that the message is from the same anonymous, unknown number that texted me a week ago. My heart skyrocketed into a session of loud beats immediately.
The message content cripples my blood flow and my bones that I can't even move. I only remain frozen where I am.
I'm coming for you and I will surely get you. You can run all you want and you can run as fast as your legs can carry you but I would surely get you and make you regret ever having such a wicked mother like yours. I'm going to make you and your husband pay for your mother's deeds. Poor you.
Then an ear-piercing scream pierces through the air and I realize seconds later that it had originated from my lips. My mother went on her knees like it was some reflex action and she began to cry like she was guilty.
"MUMMY, LEAVE ME ALONE!! LEAVE ME ALONE AND STOP DOING THIS TO ME!! HOW DARE YOU COME TO MY HOUSE TO PROVE YOUR INNOCENCE YET HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ORCHESTRATE MY CAPTIVITY, RIGHT HERE?? WHY? WHY?? I'M SO DAMN TIRED OF ALL THIS! GET OUT!! I DON'T WANT TO EVER SEE YOU AGAIN!!" I shouted so hard that I'd nearly approached my mother so I could push her out of my place but I don't know what exactly stops me, whether it's the pain tugging at my sides or a firm pair of arms wrapping around my waist.
I did not realize that Mustafa had rushed out of the house due to the effect of my loud voice.
"Easy babe, please just let her go." Mustafa's soft voice fans through my ear but I won't let this woman who is now beginning to look at me like she had no idea what just happened, that same irritating look; I won't let her go.
I tried to force myself out of Mustafa's hold but I should have known better, the limits to my strength and there was no way Mustafa was letting go of me. His arms didn't even slack one bit. I kept growling and crying out loud till I watched the wench leave my house like a leper.
The pain I had been feeling for years is spreading now like cancer, to consume me when it becomes an overflow in my soul. Each passing day wasn't getting any better. My life is on the edge and it's so hellish a feeling to know that your death is pretty imminent and to know that you're going to die in the worst of all ways.
Dying in the face of someone who is supposed to protect you, someone who is supposed to love you but instead, the view of you dying gives them so much mirth.
What have I done?
****
Psalms 55:12-14 - "For it is not an enemy who reproaches me; then I could bear it. Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me; Then I could hide from him. But it was you, a man my equal, my companion and my acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God in the throng."