“I stared at his peaceful face as he lay with his eyes closed and his
mouth open and I got that sick sensation in my stomach. I knew the only way it would pass was if I
threw it all up. So I reached for you, my most trusted friend and confidant…my
diary.
That
day, I particularly had a lot inside.” Diana ended her latest
entry and was going to close the diary and drive away but the urge to flip the
pages back some and read the very words she had thrown up that day, proved too
strong for her.
“Dear Diary,
Today, as soon as we got here--this secret bungalow in the middle of nowhere-- he told me he was
in a very ecstatic mood-it is his birthday- and he wanted to do things to me that he had
never done before. Right here in the living room, he started to fondle me,
caressing all parts of my body and enjoying the way I trembled.
‘I’ve
told you, Diana, forget about all those little boys. They only want one thing
from you.’ He said, looking into my eyes as if hypnosis was one of the ‘things’
he planned to do to me.
Then
he started to peel off my clothes. ‘Look at your pretty oranges’ He drooled. ‘And
they are mine. All mine, Diana. Forever.’
I
closed my eyes—as he closed his drooling lips over my nipple—and I recalled how
murderously enraged he had been when he came to pick me up from school one day and
saw me with Timi. The way he glared at the boy like a crazed lion, the curses
and threats he spewed at Timi like fire belched from a dragon’s spleen…
He
was touching me there now. I was very aroused. Very annoyed. Very confused. He
soon lay me down on the couch and took off all his clothes, smiling down at me.
But I had long lost my smile, so I managed a Shrek-like grotesque twist of my lips.
‘I’m
going to buy you a brand new bike, Diana. You’ll have the cutest and most
expensive bike in your entire school.’ He promised.
‘Bikes
are still not allowed in my school’ I said
‘Then
you may leave it at home knowing you have the best bike in your school.’
As
he made to penetrate me, I wished God would somehow place thorny barbs at my
gateway and deny him entry, but of course God hadn’t blocked him for the past
two years and He wasn’t planning to start now.
As
he thrust within me, my vision grew blurred. Blurred by stinging tears which
rolled down my cheeks as I closed my eyes, as if rolling to the groans and
grunts of the man on top of me.
I
cried because of the pleasure I felt in my body. I cried because of the anger I
felt in my mind. I cried because I was ashamed. I cried because somehow I felt
responsible. Somehow, I must have led him to desire me in this way.
I
cried…and he sighed.
It
was over. At least for now.
Panting,
he rolled over to the rug and stretched his arms, thoroughly sated. His eyes
were open but I knew he could neither see me nor my tears. His heart could feel
neither me nor my fears. He was in a world of his own, purring like a contented
cat. ”
Diana Bassey closed the
diary…and her eyes. The events of that day were still as fresh on her mind as
the clothes she presently wore. A black Dolce and Gabbana gown with a matching
black hat. She was after all, one of the country’s most respected fashionistas
and people always expected her to look the part…even on her father’s thirtieth
Remembrance.
As she sat in her black
custom-built SUV, Diana couldn’t help but tremble…at how far she had come in
these thirty years. The journey this far hadn’t been without it’s ordeals,
painful sacrifices and shameful secrets but it had all been worth it.
Her secrets, at least
the one that meant the most to her, were safe. She glanced at the diary and
smiled. Her friend and confidant of many years. She loved it so much she had
never bothered to change it with the changing years. Gingerly and with
reverence, she opened it again and continued where she had left off.
“…He purred a bit more and soon he was snoring. He had done way more than
his fifty-eight-year old body could handle. I trembled again as I watched him. The
tears were snaking out my insides, threatening to rack my body with micro quakes.
He hadn’t always been this way. He had always loved and adored, and spoilt me
silly—much to the envy of almost everyone, especially my three elder siblings.
Then one Monday morning last year, a week after my fifteenth birthday, he came
into my bedroom as I slept, and touched me there. I was startled to open my
eyes and see him in my room, touching me.
He
put a finger across his lips, his eyes a pair of dire warnings.
‘Ssshhhh!!’.
And
that was how this started.
He
told me that if I ever told anybody, even my mom, the dreaded gods of our village
would instantly strike me dead wherever I was because he was a high traditional
chief and one of their most ardent worshipers.
I
was helpless…at least I thought I was. Until I had the idea to buy him a gift
for his birthday.
As
he snored so…peacefully, I brought the package out of my bag with trembling
hands prodded by a resolute mind. I approached him and the tears rushed at me
again. Where had it all gone wrong? How had I been responsible? I brushed away
my tears with trembling fingers and got a grip on myself as I got a grip on my
gift.
I
was done waiting for God to answer my prayers. I would answer them myself.
I
looked at his neck and plunged deep and hard. For me, it was a plunge for
freedom.
Dear
Dee,
I
am seventeen.
And
I just stabbed a fifty-eight year old man to death.
Nobody
knows. Nobody need ever know.
Just
you, Dearest Diary.
And
I know you understand. You understand why I had to kill my dad even though I
loved him.
I
just couldn’t handle the way he loved me.”
Diana Bassey closed her
diary—finally this time— and started the engine.
She had a husband, three
kids and three famous siblings waiting for her at the memorial service.
She had a father to mourn.
She picked up the decades-old
diary, kissed it and buried it at the bottom of her bag.
(The above piece is a fictional short story. Any resemblances to real people and events are purely coincidental).
(The above piece is a fictional short story. Any resemblances to real people and events are purely coincidental).
