(Warning: mentions of abuse)
SOFIA
I was on my way to class from the restroom after reapplying my makeup when I saw Keith huddled pathetically in a corner, looking miserable. I was just about to walk past when a thought occurred to me. Now that Barbie is gone, I can retake what is rightfully mine- Keith's love.
"Keith"I called, walking to him.
He did not reply. I sat on the floor beside him, but he didn't look up either.
"Hey,"I touched his shoulder "are you okay?".
He looked up at me, his eyes hollow.
"Keith, I'm sorry. About Barbie. About... everything. I'm really sorry".
When he still didn't say anything, I put my arms around him.
"I'm here for you, Keith. I love you. I should have realized that sooner".
That was when the floodgates opened. Keith clung to me and released torrents of tears, his face buried in the crook of my neck.
"There, there"I cooed, patting his back gently.
He's so weak. So pathetic. But he loves me, and that's all that matters.
"You don't have to suffer alone anymore. No one else understands how you feel, but I do. From now on, we're in this together".
*
*
*
LANGDON
It's almost time for our first term holidays. The examinations are drawing to a close. Examinations Keith could not take due to his trauma. It's been eleven days since Barbie died. Keith has finally gotten better, and it's all thanks to Sofia. They've gotten closer than ever.
And yet, it's not happily ever after.
After Malia's shocking outburst that day, Sofia had run out of the cafeteria. I had gone after her and consoled her to the best of my ability, convinced that Malia would apologize. But she never did, and just like that, our friendship crumbled.
Now it's James, Linda and Malia. Keith, Sofia and I. I understand that Malia is hurt and all, after all she always had an obvious soft spot for Barbie. But it's not enough reason for her to heap illogical blames on Sofia. We're all hurting, after all.
I tried to talk to Linda, but she took Malia's side so fiercely that I could not help wondering if she had been hypnotized. On the other hand, Sofia doesn't want Keith and I to have anything to do with Malia or Linda or even James,ever again. Not that I can blame her. In her place, I would be brokenhearted as well. But I don't hate Malia, unlike Keith and Sofia. I know she's not a bad person, and I just wish things could go back to how they used to be. Though something tells me that they won't. I get the feeling things are going to get even worse, that the simple life we once had together will just keep getting more and more complicated. It's a nagging, terrifying feeling.
And it won't go away.
*
*
*
MALIA
Today's paper was fortunately cancelled, so I got to go home early.
"I'm home"I announced to myself, letting the door bang noisily shut behind me.
Just because.
The sound and my voice echoed, bouncing off the cream walls and golden ceilings. It's a big house. A big, empty house. I was three when mum and I came to live here.
She was so happy then. Giddy. A fresh young girl of nineteen overjoyed to be accepted by a wealthy man despite having an illegitimate child.
I was halfway up the stairs when I heard my name. I couldn't help rolling my eyes as I turned around.
"Is there a problem?"I asked drily.
"Does there have to be one before I call you?" he replied.
"Guess not. Since you calling me is already a problem".
"How was school?"he grinned like he was asking for a severe beating"got any new friends?A boyfriend?".
"Cut it out, Joe"I turned and continued to ascend the stairs.
Mum says I have to call him "dad", but I'd rather turn into a bat.
Right now I just want to get as far away from the creep as possible.
"Malia,"he said"your mother is dead".
*
*
*
LINDA
'What school fixes lessons during an examination period?' I wondered as I stepped out of Econ class to see James leaning on the wall.
"Hey,"I grinned"done already?".
He grinned back, walking up to me.
"Have you seen Malia today?"I asked as we walked hand in hand to my next class.
Yup, he walks me to all my classes.
"No. Wait, you haven't? But she's in Economics class too".
"Exactly. And Malia never misses her lessons".
"Have you tried giving her a call?".
"I haven't had the chance. But I'll do it now".
Taking out my phone, I rang her number.
"Malia"I said as soon as she picked.
"Hey there, Linda".
"Malia, are you okay? Where are you?".
"On the roof. And you can join me if you think I'm worth missing Latin class for".
With that, she cut the connection.
"That was kinda harsh"James remarked.
"No, it wasn't. I know Malia. Something must have happened".
"Something like what?".
"I don't know. But I have to go. See you later".
"I'm coming with you".
"Huh?! You have a class, James. You never miss a class".
"I'm the best in our year, Linda. One class does not matter".
"Okay. Let's hurry,then".
And hurry we did.
Malia was lying on her back when we got there, staring at the sky.
"Malia,"I called as we sat beside her"what happened?".
"My mum died. She never woke up from her coma".
My heart jolted at that. Malia has spent hours by her mother's side day after day, stroking her hand, speaking to her and willing her to live.
Hoping so desperately.
Yet she did not make it.
"What drove her into a coma?"James asked.
"If you asked the doctors, they would say 'internal bleeding due to severe battery'"she replied flatly.
"And what do you say?".
"Joe tried to rape her. And when she resisted he beat the hell out of her. Then he raped her" Malia's voice was still flat.
"Who is Joe?".
"Her stepdad"I replied.
"Oh"James murmured.
He knew better than to say "sorry". Such a word would mean nothing to Malia in such a situation.
"Six months. For six months, she was fast asleep"Malia muttered.
We kept quiet. I knew Malia's mum. She was nice and pretty, with a nervous, quiet laugh. She had a slim waist and lovely hands and tired eyes. She always wore ankle length skirts and turtlenecks and long sleeves and plastic smiles.
"Sit up"I said, and Malia promptly did. I put my arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into my touch.
"Do you want to talk about Joe?"James asked.
"Sure, I guess"Malia shrugged"he's my stepdad. My mum married him when I was three, after my dad apparently ran off somewhere. He is at least twenty years her senior. Some months after they married, his friends started visiting. They'd tug my cheeks, go upstairs and emerge smiling. I didn't understand until later. She was his sex slave and punching bag. He married her just so he could use her. She had no one, and his friends were the type that would pay decently for a night with an African American woman".
She stopped. She was done. James took her hand and squeezed it gently. She smiled at him,then stood up and took some steps forward.
"I wonder if we're late for Latin"she said.