Some wounds do not bleed; they burn deep into the soul, leaving scars only the heart can see. And sometimes, the cruelest prison is not made of walls, but of shame, silence, and the hands that should have held us with love."
"Unknown"
Chapter 46
Looking at him, he was like the devil himself.
As the men dragged me out of the van, his scowl slowly morphed into a sardonic smile.
"Hey, be careful with her. She's very important cargo," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You guys can go. I'll see you later today."
I stood with my head bowed, as the thugs got back into their van and drove off.
"Zeynep, Zeynep, the party girl," Ibrahim remarked, his smile now a full-on grin. "You can't imagine my surprise when they told me that my Zeynep, my own baby, was seen gyrating in a nightclub. I told them, 'No! Not my zeynep!'" He whipped out his phone. "It wasn't until they sent me these that I realised they were actually telling the truth."
I couldn't help but look as he scrolled past picture after picture, each one worse than the one preceding it. I felt my cheeks flush with shame at the images of me in the vulgar attire, displaying the outline of every arch and curvature of my breasts and buttocks, positioned so close to Blaze that not even air would have found thoroughfare between us.
All I wanted was to wish the entire unfortunate evening away…but there it was, immortalised on Ibrahim's phone, and Allah knew how many more.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Ibrahim remarked, still scrolling through. "Who taught you how to twerk like that? Who has been teaching you bad things? What kind of bad company have you been keeping? This can't be my Zeynep. My innocent and pure Zeynep. The Zeynep whose virginity I took -"
"Zeynep, that is your father's wife!" came madam Maria's sharp voice from the doorway.
We both looked in her direction,he enraged, and I mortified, both of us wondering what could have possibly possessed her to brazenly challenge him like that.
"madam Maria,oh maria," he chuckled, shaking his head. "maria. Your wings are clearly overgrown and need clipping. My father has let you run amok for far too long."
"Leave her alone. She is your father's business, not yours," madam Maria i maintained, her voice firm and confident.
"Is that right?" Ibrahim laughed. "She's my father's business, and yours as well, from the look of things. Is that why you asked your daughter to help her run away?"
Madam Maria couldn't mask her surprise, and Ibrahim, astute as he was, cued into it.
"Oh, you didn't know? You didn't know that your daughter and 'my father's wife' were on their way to a different state ? Do you even know where your daughter is right now? On her way to see her lover, from what I hear. If it hadn't been for my boys who notified me, they both would have been in God-knows-where by now."
"Zeynep, come inside," madam Maria said, ignoring him as she walked towards me, reaching for my hand.
"Come inside."
Even I, who had been anticipating some kind of reaction from Ibrahim, didn't see it coming.
His backhand struck madam maria on the face, with such force, she fell to the ground. As he made to grab her, I held his arm.
"Please, leave her alone. I'll do whatever you want. Please!"
That was enough placation for him. He glared at her before stepping back and turning to me.
"Come," was all he said as he turned to enter the house.
"zeynep-" Uzochi called out, her voice high-pitched with fear.
But I ignored her. The last thing I wanted was to drag her further into my mess. As we all could attest, Ibrahim was a dangerous animal, and I didn't want her to be harmed on my account.
Walking behind him, I was relieved when he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time, obviously going to my bedroom.
If sex was all he wanted, then it was something I could endure. If having him hump and heave on top of me would be my penance, then I could bear it.
Once in the room, he began to kiss me like a rabid animal, tearing off my clothes in the process, pulling and biting so hard, I could taste blood in my mouth. I shut my eyes as he pushed me to the bed, wincing as he pinned me down. Tears rolled down my face as he thrust away furiously, having his way with me not once, but several times.
Never before had he been so insatiable and excited.
Just when I thought it was over, he would start all over again.
By the time he was spent, I was sore all over, stinging from all the cuts and bruises he'd inflicted…but consoled that it was over.
Except it wasn't.
He rolled off and lay motionless beside me. I didn't know whether to remain still or move.
But my terror made the decision for me and kept me immobile, fearing that the slightest motion from me would trigger him into continuing his assault.
"So, you didn't learn your lesson after the last time," he said eventually, his voice even. "You still went ahead to throw your legs open for another alley boy."
I knew it was futile telling him I didn't sleep with Blaze, so instead just remained quiet.
"Not only did you fuck him, you decided to behave like a prostitute at the nightclub," he continued, his voice still steady, but the increased pace of his breathing the only indication of his rising anger.
"Apart from those pictures, I also saw a video of you flirting with almost all the men there, enticing them to come fuck you as well."
I tensed, not knowing how to answer, but knowing him well enough to recognise that we were in the calm before the almighty storm.
And I was correct.
He was suddenly on top of me, his hands around my neck. "As if it's not bad enough that I have to share you with my father! Now, you're giving what should only be mine to the entire city!"
I struggled as his grip around my neck tightened, trying in vain to pry open his fingers. My legs flailed as I gasped for breath, feeling life slowly ebb out of my body. And then I wondered what I was even struggling for. There was nothing about my life worth living.
And so I stopped.
Just as my hands fell off him, and I closed my eyes to submit to death, he grabbed my bedside lamp and hit me on the face with it repeatedly, until it broke to pieces.
Disarmed of his weapon, he grabbed my head and hit it on the headboard. I cried out in pain as he did this over and over again, with increasing intensity.
It felt like my face was caving in, like every bone it had been shattered.
Letting go of me suddenly, he rose to his feet and slowly got into his clothes. I lay face down, the sheets now crimson red from my blood. My head was pounding, my vision was blurred, and I felt myself slowly losing consciousness. I closed my eyes, wanting to just slip away permanently, to allow death to release me from the hell that was my life.
But I was suddenly jolted by a large gush of water emptied over me. I had the habit of always leaving a full bucket of water in my bathtub and hadn't even heard him go to the bathroom to grab it.
"Get up!" he shouted. "Get out of that bed!"
I sat up, panting from the shock and cold, my hair dripping wet and sticking to my face. Seeing I was making no move to obey his order, he pulled me off the bed and slapped me across the face, the crack of skin contacting skin echoing off the walls. Grabbing me by the arm, he dragged me towards the door, and when I realised what it was he wanted to do, to expose my nakedness to the entire household for a second time, I decided to do everything I could to fight.
I grabbed my closet door, holding on to it for dear life.
This only served to enrage him further, as he turned around and kneed me in the stomach several times.
The pain shot through my body like a fireball, crippling me to the extent I couldn't even make a sound. I let go of the door and allowed him to push me out into the hallway, stark naked.
"Go downstairs!" he barked, his eyes blazing fire.
"Ibrahim, please," I pleaded, lifting my hands imploringly. "Please, just beat me here. Don't send me down like this."
In response, he pushed me again, making me stumble forward. Without any other word, I made my way downstairs. One of the housemaids was coming out of the kitchen and gasped when she saw me. She ran back inside.
"Come back here!" Ibrahim shouted. "As a matter of fact, call everyone from the kitchen and the servants quarters. Let them all see this."
Our eyes held, her's and mine, and there were tears in hers as she stood there, shaking, not knowing whether to leave or stay.
"Outside!" Ibrahim ordered me, holding open the front door.
My heart crashed. The last time he had done this, at least my shame had been contained within the walls of the house. Now, he was magnifying it in leaps and bounds. But I knew arguing would be pointless. So, with my head bowed, I walked out of the house.
"Stand right there," Ibrahim said, pointing to centre of the courtyard, by the water fountain. "Let them all see what it is you have been peddling to the local boys for free."
As I made my way there, I saw several of the domestic staff emerge from the house. The others at the gate and aviary had also noticed what was happening.
I stood there, at the very center of the compound, my hands doing little to cover my shame. The last person who had suffered a similar humiliation had been Isioma, but at least she had died shortly after. How would I ever be able to live down this humiliation after this? How?
Most of the staff had their heads bowed, unable to look at me. The ones that did had tears in their eyes. I knew they pitied me, and it wasn't only because I was standing before them without the honour of being clothed. There were streaks of blood streaming down from my badly injured head, and one of my eyes was swollen shut. I could have passed for a disgraced criminal after a lynching, except my attacker hadn't been an angry mob but a lone, crazed animal.
Suddenly, it felt like I was spinning, like we were all spinning.
And everything went black.
Was this finally death?