Months had passed since the fateful night with my husband, a night that left me torn between more despair and a new found sense of determination. It's been months since my husband has laid his hand on me after the night we slept together. I don't know if it's guilt that is dawning on him now but it's entirely useless. My body bore the scars of his abuse but something within me had shifted. Tho the old bruises faded, the emotional wounds ran quite deep.
As time wore on, my body began to betray me in different ways. Morning sickness plagued me regularly than often, and my period, once irregular due to my new found miserable life, seemed to have vanished completely. The sting you feel from hunger, I could feel it again. I didn't eat often, I also the crave to much but I felt I was getting better as time went on. Maybe luck has finally shown his face in front of me.This gave me a bittersweet reminder of my own resilience. It reminded me of the fact I still draw breath.
Admits the turmoil, a glimmer of hope emerged. My reflection in the mirror shower a woman slowly regaining her strength, my spirit becoming whole despite the trials I have faced. The thought of freedom lingered on the horizon, tantalizingly close yet agonizingly out of reach.
My husband doesn't come back with a foul mood and I have no reason to cower in fear.
All that is left is for this good mood to go on until I can finally bring for the courage to call forth a divorce. Before it was a distant hope but now I can almost smell my freedom.
******
Fate had a cruel sense of irony, and I found myself facing a new uncertainty: the possibility that I may be pregnant. Unable to leave the confines of this house to purchase a pregnancy test from a pharmacy I had to think of another way or I might as well kiss my freedom goodbye.
I want to be sure... Would I really be a mother? Forget all my pain, in the time I am taking care of myself he won't lay a finger on me since I'm pregnant. I rushed to my phone to check ways to know if you are pregnant without a test. The boldest of them all,
" The scent of raw fish"...
An old wives' tale whispering among old folks has suddenly become my lifeline. With each nauseating inhalation, I dared to hope that salvation layed within my grasp. And when the sickness finally dawned on me, a wave of relief washed over me, mingled with tears of joy and sorrow.
God has sent me a helping hand. He never forgot. I may not be happy with this pit I dug for myself but I'm glad that in this very pit I have found salvation.
For me this revelation has brought about a sense of purpose admits my chaos. I dare not speak of my pregnancy to my husband until he evaluates it himself.
I cannot let him rip me of this joy as well.
******
Yuna is about five to six months pregnant now. She hasn't visited a doctor, since her husband already found out himself. He was indifferent to the news. She played the role of dutiful wife, concealing her growing discomfort beneath a façade of obedience.
Things have been smooth. No pain, no abuse and no insult of any sort. It's almost like she has been touched by heaven. He addressed that she ought to take care of her scars before she gives birth in the labour room. He showed his disdain for people pressing charges on my behalf for abuse. She humbly obeyed him as to this would lead to her freedom.
She heard the unlocking sound of the keypad of our door, she quickly rushed to the entrance of our sitting room to greet him. He staggered his way in and changed his shoes to slippers. She took his bag and suit jacket and asked him what she should serve him for dinner.
" Is it because you are pregnant that you think you are soon going to be free? I happy for the fact that you don't frustrate me like every other pregnant woman but don't get ahead of yourself, got it?", he yelled as he began to make his way to lie on the couch.
She nodded her head and bowed.
But the illusion of peace was finally shattered with a single bite of dinner. In an instant, her husband's simmering rage erupted into a violent storm, raining down upon her with unrelenting fury.
"Is this what I get for dinner? Are you serious right now? You can't do anything right because you are pregnant. Pregnant my foot. I can make you abort that child if I wished it," he spat, his words laced with venom.
"It's already past the abortion stage," Yuna whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of his anger.
His response was swift and brutal, a barrage of blows raining down upon her already battered frame. Yuna, too accustomed to pain to be truly surprised, endured the onslaught with silent resignation.
But amidst the chaos, tragedy struck. A blow to her abdomen, a sharp pain blossoming within her, and suddenly the world spun out of control.
"Help! It hu... rt...s," she cried out, her voice choked with agony.
Before she knew it, the warmth of blood spread beneath her, a cruel reminder of her own mortality. And as darkness closed in around her, Yuna's thoughts turned to the life growing within her, a fragile beacon of hope in a sea of despair.
"My baby, please my baby," she begged, her words a desperate plea for salvation.
But her husband, consumed by his own rage, remained deaf to her cries. She begged countless times but the blood won't stop flowing. She layed in a pond full of her blood and as she felt dizzy, her consciousness slipping away slowly, she saw that her husband had already passed out on the floor
Bas...tar...d...
25th September, 2023...