KWAZI
She takes off her blazer revealing the scars on her wrists.
“ let me help you heal Kwazi, let's help each other heal.” , she says .
Sigh, she leads me to the carpet where we're both seated at the moment because it's much more comfortable there.
“Can you take me back to that night it happened?”, she asks and I nod.
“ He bathe me and then when he was done he told me to not tell my mother,his wife. He gave me pills, I was just numb. I...I tried telling my mother.”
~~FLASHBACK~~
“ Don't you dare bullshit me Kwazi!!”
“ He molested me mah,why don't you believe me?he forced himself on me!”, I beg her to believe me.
I feel a slap across my face. “Say that about my husband to other people,I dare you , uzongazi wena. You ungrateful bastard!”She leaves me there holding my cheek with my hand sobbing.
~~END OF FLASHBACK ~~
“ She didn't believe me, she doesn't believe me” , I put my face on my palms and let the tears out.
“ How does that make you feel?”, Ms Hudson asks me.
“ I hate her, her and her husband,I hate them.” , I look at her as she's writing down on her notepad.
“ The first step is that you have to forgive yourself-", I cut her off
“ Forgive myself? Ngenzeni mina? Did I perhaps ask him to forcefully shove his manhood in me while I bled? Did I ask him to see me as him wife ,where he could satisfy himself and release?”, I'm now getting mad. What the fuck is this woman saying to me , what must I forgive myself for?
“ Kwazi, what happened to you is not your fault but you have to forgive yourself first and forgive your parents in order to heal. ”
She checks her wristwatch and gets up from the carpet to go get something from her drawer.
She comes back with a notebook.
“ Listen,our time is up. Your homework is that you have to write your feelings on this journal. It doesn't have to be an everyday thing but please do write in it when you feel angry or happy etcetera, okay? Will you do that for me?”
“fine, I'll try”, I take the journal from her and she gives me a smile and I return it.
I call Derrick to come pick me up and take me home. He arrives and the ride there is unusually quiet as if he can sense that I'm not okay. We arrive at the flat and I get out.
“ Thanks bro.”, I tell him .
“ Kwazi,if you wanna talk ,I'm here alright?”, he says to me as I open the gate.
“ Yhea, thanks man. I appreciate it.", I get in and close the gate. He drives off and I go straight to my room .
I look at the journal on my bed and I sigh. I start writing.
‘ I begged my mother to believe me but she didn't. I'm afraid that my sister also won't believe me if I tell her what happened. I no longer want to feel like this. I - ’
Fuck this , I stop writing and I throw the book across the room .
“Fuck this ,fuck this!” , where the hell are my razors?
I kneel beside the bed and reach for the shoebox under it. I take out a razor blade and go to the bathroom.
I turn on the tap and sit in the bathtub just like how my sperm donor made me sit after he raped me.
One cut, two cuts, three,four,five cuts on my left wrist until I'm satisfied. I lay my head on the cold edge of the tub and let the cold water cleanse me.
YOU ARE READING
Izindaba Zomhawu(Paused)
Non-FictionA young woman goes on a quest to find herself,to find who she really is. She meets love and has to face her past along the way. Will there be a happy ever after?
