Max Lovett

My vision is blur, I struggle to allow light penetrate through my eyes, it feels painful to open my eyes, I wonder if this is the heaven I have constantly being hearing about, I imagine the golden roads, the golden gates, the angels and the book of life.

I have heard so much about that book, questions race through my mind as fast as the Olympic hero Hussein Bolt, I wonder if my name has being inscribed on the pages of that book, that determines my eternity.

“Max……Max”, the sound of name echoes through my ears, I adjust my eyes to eliminate the blur; my sight focuses on the face of my mother. I’m glad to have her here with me; together we shall walk through the golden gates into heaven.

“Max, you should not have done that, the doctor said you were inches away from cutting an important vein. Do you want to kill me?”

The voice of my mother made sense to me, I am not in heaven, I am not dead, and the stab of the knife did not kill me. I look around me and judging by the equipments all around the room, it is clear I am in the hospital.

I can feel the tears from my mothers face drop on my the side of my hand, the wetness made me shiver, reality dawned on me.

“The truth is I am not your mother and he is not your father, your biological mother died shortly after you were born and your biological father died a week before your birth. You should not have tried to kill yourself”

She is not my mother and he is not my father, which is part of the reason I am here, lying on this bed, unable to move my upper body without feeling stab pains. I remember clearly the reason I put that knife through my skin with intentions of ending my life.

I have always being a bit bigger than my peers; I guess puberty arrived early for me. Before I understood the meaning of breast, I had full developed ones, which were nice because the attention from all the boys towards me increased, these puberty changes also attracted another kind of attention from my father. He seemed to touch me more. He would hold my hands when we watch television in the afternoons, however he would never hold my hands in the evening when my mother was there watching with us. He started giving me money to buy things for myself, I was very happy as I was never short of money whenever I needed to buy sweets from the malam kiosk from across the road. Thinking back now, I should have seen the writing on the wall.

This continued for so many years, through junior secondary school and into senior secondary school. The touches became ever so frequent however discreet, the touches began to irritate me but there was nothing I could say. I expressed my concern to my boyfriend who seemed to laugh about it, to be honest; I think he was just satisfied to kiss me at the back of the house every day in the evenings when I needed to fetch some water from the tap.

Last night, mother had gone to the party from across the road. I was in the leaving room of the house with father, we were watching television. I got tired so I decided to go to bed earlier than usual. I announced to father I was going to bed; I was surprised when he asked me for a good night kiss. I laughed it off as I made my way to my bedroom. I changed into my nightgown and hopped into my bed.

Few minutes later, the door to my room open, my father was in the room. I adjusted myself in the bed and prepared to answer his question as I assumed he came into the room to ask a question. He had a grin on his face as he walked to the side of my bed. He sat on the bed next to me and said,

“Why didn’t you give me my good night kiss, did you not hear when I asked you for one”

“Daddy, I can’t kiss you now, you are my father”, I struggled to make sense of his request as I answered him.

“I am not your daddy, I am a man who likes what he sees. Each time I look at you, I think of something”

“What daddy?”

He did not answer with words but his actions said a thousand more. He ran his hands through my thighs and moved closer.

“Daddy, what is the meaning of this? What are you doing?”

“I admire your body, when I am through with you, you will surely want more”, he said as he moved his hand over my breast and fondled them. His hands were everywhere on my body as he ripped my night gown off my body, and he began to moan. It dawned on me that he was going to rape me.

I struggled to release myself from his grasp; his mouth was on mine as he tried forcefully to push his tongue in.

“Relax and let me teach you something, you will like what I have for you, your body needs it”.

With one hand, he removed his trousers to reveal his bulging manhood, with the other hand; he had me pinned to the bed. I felt disgusted as his bulging manhood touched my skin. I needed to get away fast so I grabbed the empty coke bottle that stood on my side table and smashed it in his face.

I ran out of the house naked, crying and screaming. People gathered as they heard my cry. I explained to them what had happened. Someone called out to my mother and she was disgusted when she saw me. She took me back into the house and I explained everything to her. I asked her if he is my biological father.

“The truth is I am not your mother and he is not your father, your biological mother died shortly after you were born and your biological father died a week before your birth. You should not have tried to kill yourself”

Those words hit me hard, I hated myself, I hated him and I started hating her. I ran into the kitchen grabbed the knife and put it through my skin.

As I sit here on this hospital bed, I ponder about my future. I do not hate my so called mother anymore but I hate her husband. I made up my mind not to go back to that house, however where do I go. How do I move on from this?

What a world I have being through.