Chapter 2

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OMOYE


My eyes yank open, the memory I try hard to forget playing right before me. The scary man keeps appearing in my nightmares. It is happening all over again, my pleas ignored, his crackling laughter reverberating in my ears, the pain surging in my stomach, blood spilling and the silence afterwards. Then he comes again and the cycle continues.

I take a minute to assemble my thoughts. Right, I am in the hospital. Alone.

I scan the moonlit room, no sign of my mother. My fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm as fear overwhelms my body.

"Mum?" I yell. Sliding off the bed, I peep into the dark hallway with my steps barely making any sound on the cold tiles.

With every step, I overhear some indistinct voices. I recognise one as my mother's and the other is unfamiliar. As I sneak closer and stand by the door, I listen in as their conversation becomes slightly audible.

"I am terrified. Doctor, I am scared for my daughter. I don't recognise her any more. She is closed up, and I don't know what to do." That's my mother's voice.

"It is understandable, considering what Omoye went through especially as a child, but I assure you, she will get through it. You, as her mother, have to reassure her, she will be okay. Continue to shower her with love and don't make her feel any different."

I peep through the crack of the open door.

The Doctor continues, "She has to sense nothing has changed."

"What if?! What if she never gets better? How can she live a normal life again? Will she ever get married? Will she ever be like a normal woman?" Panic and worry lace my mother's voice as she speaks. "I'm a nurse and I've done my research on rape survivors. Some of them never recover from the trauma. Honestly, I don't know who this girl is. I think my daughter is dead."

Hearing those words from my mother strikes me deep in my heart. I know something is different about me. I can feel it. The constant fear, nightmares, terror, and frankly, I do feel sick but I used to think I would get better. Right now, I'm scared.

I rush out of the suffocating hospital building to the garden outside. The puff of gray clouds swoops into the air and surrounds the moon from all sides, giving the sky an eerie feeling. I could feel sadness weighing on my shoulder as I sob into my shaky palms. The tears drip between my fingers, raining down onto the parched soil.

"Why are you crying?"

I raise my leaking eyes to the boy standing in front of me. Lucas. Mum told me that the police caught the bad man because of him. Not that I care for him or anyone else.

"Only babies cry." He grimaces.

I swallow hard and try to muster a few words but the tears fight through. I mumble, "Mummy said...that...I cannot get married and...I cannot be a woman."

Lucas goes quiet for a while. "I don't know what that means." He grits his teeth as if to stop the next words that escape his mouth. "If no one marries you, then I will. Stop crying, you look ugly."

My fist claws at my nightgown and my breathing flutters to stop the tears. I swipe my eyes clean to look up at him again. I rarely make connections this quick or toss my trust this easy. Ever since my father left my mum and we had to move to this town, never have I ever seen such warmth, genuineness and softness of spirit as shown by Lucas. I can't pass it up.

The moon graces the sky as if she has some bright idea. I don't even know this boy, yet I have so much trust in his words. I put up my pinky finger, requesting we make it binding. "Promise me?"

He rolls his eyes and sighs. "You are such a child."

He lowers his hand that is still restricted in a cast and holds out his pinky finger. "Fine. I promise. Now stop crying before I change my mind."

"Will you let me ride your bicycle?"

"I will think about it."

There are two sides to every story. This is my favourite, because Lucas saved me in more ways than he realised.

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