Thirsty For Her Blood: A story of pain and vengeance
 |
| Thirsty for her blood(videoblocks) |
“….fourteen years in Karemeno juvenile prison” were the only
words I heard the magistrate utter in her judgment that seemed to have lasted
for an hour. This did not come as a surprise as I was ready to even serve a
life sentence. I smiled sheepishly at the thought of a second chance. Yes, I
still had another chance to ruin her life after I completed my term. By the
time I got out of prison, I would be a woman like her and I would never be
afraid of her. Vengeance awaited her. I was ready to serve another sentence if
I had to just to see her go six feet under.
As the police escorted me outside, I could see her giggle
around as though I was dead already. My father could not even look up. I could
tell that the fella was dying with guilt inside by the way he drugged his feet
as though his body overburdened him. Although he hadn’t been so useful, he
seemed to regret his failures. The whole world turned against me and no one was
ready to fight for me. I was nevertheless determined to fight for myself single-handed.
I had lived with my maternal grandmother since birth but she
too just like my mother had passed on when I was only seven. It is then that I
was forced to go live with my father who I knew not since my uncles and aunts
were unwilling to take me with them. Before she passed on, my grandmother had
made it known to me that my mother had passed on during my birth. My father had
denounced me and had always insisted on my being aborted. Mama had battled the
tough journey all alone to the labor ward where she had complications that
would not allow her to even see her bundle of joy.
This woman who I was supposed to address as my mum was
childless and was always bitter. They were always fighting with my father for
reasons I never cared to know. The only thing I cared about was how this woman treated me like rubbish. My
father spent most of his nights away from home giving the evil woman more time
to beat me up, deny me food and overwork me. This too I was ready to persevere
till I secured a place where I could secure employment as a maid or a herd
girl. It was only a matter of time and they would never see me again: at least
that is what I thought. Once the school closed, I would run away.
This however never came to pass. Our shamba boy had all of a
sudden changed in to a beast. Sexual violence was the only meal served to me
daily. The threats I got from him shook me to death and besides my step mother
would not hear a word of it. My father was never home and none of them seemed
to notice my changed walking styles resulting from the pain in my genitalia.
Then came this fateful day when all hell broke. I could not
withstand the pain and the sight of my blood which was already flooding the
room. The floor that had been so dusty few minutes back had its thirst quenched
and could take no more of my blood. My body had become a source of a river
flowing angrily with blood. My mother had given it a deaf ear when I screamed
for help and it was the neighbors who had come to my rescue. The beast had
taken off already leaving his knife behind. He had always used the knife to
threaten me.
“If you ever open your mouth about this, I will kill you
with this” he would say.
This very knife, I would use it to kill my step mother who
had been so helpless. I had gathered enough courage to tell her what his shamba
boy was doing to me but she had rubbished it all claiming that I deserved that
and more. As helpless as I felt, I managed to quickly grab the knife in an
effort to do away with this woman who now pretended to be so motherly with the
neighbors present. My mission however was never achieved and I only managed to
chop her left ear when she came close to me.
I was thirsty, thirsty for her blood and someone had to pay
for my lost blood and that of my mother. It had to be her.
Comments
Post a Comment