I, PSYCHOPATH?
He turns to face me boldly writing wrath on his face. It feels like I am done for but what can he do? I'm more powerful than he is.
I am still unconscious. The intensity of this pain has passed the threshold. It weaves itself into my bloodstream. Taking over what I thought I'd at least be in control of, my blood. I have been diagnosed with a certain disease. I didn't tell dad. He'd probably worry or maybe not. I have stayed too long by myself that I can do without a few people or two.
Not everybody can manage me. Not everybody understands me. They all just find faults in whatever I do even if it isn't in my intention. That's why I didn't bother with college. Go to hell for all I care. People with it. But I'm trying my best to not let my rage take the better of me cos if it does...
He drops Laylah on the floor not putting her down. Dropping her! She's suffered enough. Something I don't think I have felt before, sympathy. I feel it for her deep down within me. As if her pains got sewn into my flesh. I feel everything tenfold.
I still have my head up looking at him, waiting for his next move but I am still in my subconscious. Not moving an inch. I can't hear a thing. Not the whistles of the birds. The faint cry of the winds. The waves of laughter of the trees. I can't hear any of it.
Have I gone deaf?
I remember what I read somewhere, an article. "The extent to which everyone withstands pain differs tremendously. But she couldn't, the pain dumbed her.''
It was about a young girl who witnessed the brutal killings of her family. A five-year-old! After the incident, she couldn't speak. The shock shocked her deeply.
Will that happen to me?
Have I truly gone deaf?
In my subconscious mind, I still am not at peace. From the beginning of my steps into this world, one thing or the other just couldn't be in my favor. Now I'm stuck with this one, him.
He looks sick not of illness but derangement. I look at him still. Will my arms be cut off as he did Laylah? Blood drips down his white face. His eyes stand staring deep into my subconscious. It is as if he is in me. I can feel him. Every single bit of all he feels. The wrath, pain, stress, muffles, empathy.
Wait, empathy? For who? Me? You're joking!
He doesn't speak a word for ten more minutes. He just stays there staring into my whole I do the same feeling every ounce. It's a surprise no one has asked for our hereabouts. They didn't hear us leave. Or did they freeze? Like Laylah?
He gets to where I lay expressionlessly. I fell on my front. Leaving only my face in the air. I don't feel any pain as a result of that though. It feels numb. I don't think about it until now. He makes me face the grey skies.
"Hmm, they look sad."
Adjusting every piece of my body makes me appear as if I am to be buried, ready for the white cloth to be put over me.
"I'm not dead."
"I'm not dead !"
But I guess he doesn't hear me. My subconscious can't hear me. My thoughts can't speak to my mind let alone make words come out of my mouth. Randomly, my mind goes to what he did with Laylah. "He undressed her!" I don't feel comfortable letting my skin show not to talk of letting my whole chest be seen. I have to stop him.
I tried raising my hand to stop him since speaking didn't work, but it doesn't move. it is as if I am moving every ounce of it by the speed of light but it doesn't move.
What's happening?
I recall this one. What happened in the car with my dad and the lots. My aunts caused it. At least that's what my dad told me. Are they the cause of it now or did he lie to me?
Nothing changes. Nothing moves. I thought he went for my dress and this time my hand moved. I almost hold his but he pushes against my arm with force. it falls back to the cold white snow. I let out a puff of air, cold air. Life just passed through me. I smell it.
I have no choice. Do what you must. Even if that means undressing me. I close my eyes, life again passes through me. I feel it again. He does acupuncture to my surprise.
Freeing dead parts of me. Some numbed parts. For the rest, he tells that I free myself. How do I do that? I can't even move!
'Think. You can. If we were right about you. If Noa was right then you can. Do it now. Think hard.'
"What's this one saying? I say I can't move but he tells me it's in me too. I know the answer already. Really? If I knew I'd have stood up ages ago! Bloody hell. Wo (trying to attract attention in the Yoruba Language expressing inability ), I can't move. Don't stress me." He can't even hear me.
I close my eyes to sleep. I can't be disturbed. Life is too short. Before I knew it he slaps me. Rapid. Why? Of all things to do. Why choose slaps ehn, ehn Nah. I am on the brink of tears but far away from it. I hardly shed tears, it's for the weak. I haven't cried in forever except that time with Nathaniel if you'd remember.
" What is wrong with this one, ay ?"
THE BOOK. THAT OLD BOOK WITH BLACK COVER AND BLACK PAGES. The one I read in Feline's house one time I sneaked into her house. She wasn't home. Don't worry I didn't steal. I just took cooked frozen stirred-fried chicken with a glass of milk. I was so hungry and didn't like what was in my fridge so I just took it not steal by the way. I am no thief! I repeat.
I felt the need to check her house out whilst waiting for the chicken to heat up in the oven. I took a stroll then came across a large library. It felt like those you see in movies like harry potter and the likes. It was exactly like that. A fantasy brought to life.
It fascinated me. I have a thing for books. There's one across the streets. A bookstore. The first day I stepped foot in it was the first day I got kicked out. The owner said I had the face of a psychopath. It baffled me. He belittled me. Then I replied that this one right here that he sees is that of Naomi Campbell. He didn't lend an ear. He threw me out, literally.
' Sir, I meant Tinkerbell !' I shouted to call his attention. He didn't even listen again he just shook his head. I wonder what was meant by that.
That I am not Tinkerbell nor have her looks? He should wear glasses. Please spare me. I'd catch that girl. I said then. And now I did, five years later! Isn't that what's called keeping to promise? Aren't I right? (smiles)
Hhh, my dream better be a good one. I can't be lying on this snow all for nothing. God, make me a snow princess in it, Elsa. I burst out laughing after smiling not caring about boy Nathaniel. Is he still here? I doubt.
Hahahahahaha.
WHERE'S MY DAUGHTER?