Through Her Eyes

Chapter 9

The air was tense, silence seeped through the room as my mom held tightly against her teacup. My father had arrived back home, hopeful for a good meal. Although he was met with one,  a bowl of bolognaise sprinkled with cheese, it came with a side of tension. I doubted my father cared much about Mbali leaving as long as the negotiations were executed concerning the concecration of their marriage. If it was anything either than that, he would be offended. However he also had to take my mothers feelings into consideration as well.

Mbali hadn't arrived yet, she was actively ignoring calls as she was still on set. Thus it was just the three of us settled around the dining room.

"I see no issue" my dad finally said.

My mothers head turned towards him in shock.

"We planned it together. Lwazi you agreed."

"She is his wife."

"And I am her mother."

"He paid for her."

"And I gave birth to her and raised her for far more than the price he paid for her. My energy, my strength, my willpower, my love and all for her to just leave. You know why I am uncomfortable with that decision." her voice lightly cracked; she furrowed her eyebrows at him before turning back to face her teacup.

"I understand the difficulty of this situation-"

"No, no you don't."

Silence seeped into the thin air as everyone sat. The floor ever so suddenly drew my interest in as I stared at it. My lips were pursed into a thin line while the hairs on my back stood. It was tense, everyone seemed tense. My father himself was silent as he played with the spaghetti in his bowl.

If Mbali could only enter the house now, that would be some form of saving grace.

"How about we let Mbali decide?" my dad finally said.

My mother let out a mocking tone as she faced her cup.

"I believe that would be best." my dad continued, "for now, Lwazi, you will have to excuse me and my wife."

Lwazi nodded, he stood to his feet, making a small bow with his head before exiting the home.

"Are you okay?" my dad asked her.

She quickly stood to her feet, leaving her cup on the table before making her way upstairs. My dad pushed his food back, the sudden loss of appetite evident in his face.

"Should I take your plate?" I asked him.

He gave me a light eyebrow raise. I didn't take time before I began to clean up, it suddenly occurred  to me that even I hadn't eaten anything all day. I cleaned his plate and began plating some spaghetti for myself instead. I paired it with a glass of apple juice before making my way upstairs and entering my room.

I sat on the floor and took out my notebook diary as I sat on the floor. I began taking to take note for the first time in a while. The spaghetti was quite decent for taste, however I could've made it a little bit better if I added more sweet sauce into it. Slowly I dozed off, however my light sleep was disturbed by the sound of something hitting the door. I quickly stood to my feet and began making my way to the door. I lightly opened the door and looked across my room. My parents were lightly arguing. Despite me having been used to it, this time a part of me craved the need to actually hear what the disturbance was about. 

I inched closer, hearing their light utterences grow louder as I walked towards the room.

"She is his wife, and Mbali can choose to leave home"

"I don't care what Mbali thinks, she is staying here in our town."

"You can't control her"

"I can't but I can instill fear in her."

"She will be happier and more free." 

"Oh please, same with Mandisa, she left as a know it all. Jumping overseas for a boy she barely knew and what happened, he let her join those lunatics resulting in her losing all the progress she would have ever made if she were here at home."

"Mandisa could have been a dentist, she could have been a surgeon, a doctor but he took all those years from her. And the scandal that boy was involved in was atrocious. All those allegations of assault, rape even as far as being involved in a cult. He took her there and almost ruined my daughter. And guess what he still roams around to this day, free from the British and South African court system because his parents are far wealthier with more influence."

"Darling-"

"I said no, it is final. Worse could have happened to her and I am not letting Mbali ruin her life just like Mandisa did. Lwazi and his family can go spit their money somewhere else, coming here with expensive gifts, disrespectful with their communication, asking too many questions concerning my daughter. They can all go to hell with their stupid wine and oil cooperations." 

Fear twisted deep in the pit of my stomach, a cold knot that tightened with every passing second. My ear stayed pressed against the door, straining to catch even the faintest sound. The silence was thick, oppressive, and every small creak of the floor seemed to scream louder in the stillness. Slowly, I stepped back on my toes, my eyes wide, heart thrumming erratically in my chest, each beat a warning of what was to come. My breath hitched as the sound of her footsteps grew louder, closer, until they were almost right outside the door.

A wave of dread surged through me, threatening to root me to the spot. But instinct took over. Swallowed by a rising tide of panic, I bolted across the hallway, my body moving before my mind could catch up. I turned the doorknob with shaking fingers, slipped inside, and pushed the door closed behind me with barely a sound. My chest tightened, and my breath came in shallow bursts.

I stumbled toward the bed, my limbs feeling heavy, trembling with adrenaline. My heart slammed against my ribs, so loud I feared it might give me away. I threw myself onto the bed, face down, and buried my head in the pillow, as if the fabric could somehow muffle my terror.

The doorknob turned.

She entered quietly, too quietly. The soft click of the latch barely audible, but it sent a bolt of icy fear through me. My skin prickled as beads of sweat gathered at my hairline, trickling down the sides of my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, every muscle tensing. Her breathing was harsh, ragged, a sinister contrast to the unnerving stillness of the room.

And then, with a jarring bang, she slammed the door shut. The sound echoed in the silence, like the final blow of something inevitable.

I was scared—terrified, even—of being caught. Not just by her, but by whoever she had become, this version of her that felt so foreign, so dangerous. But the fear gnawing at me wasn't just about her. Something else was off, something I couldn't quite grasp. It was as though a crucial piece was missing, hidden just out of reach.

My trip to Oxfordshire... it had nothing to do with a man, at least not as far as I could remember. I hadn't gone there for a relationship, or to chase after someone. There was no cult, no secret society, nothing that should have made those five years vanish from my memory. But they had. Gone. Erased. What was left behind didn't make sense—fragments of why I went there, still clear in my mind. I had gone to advance my career. I knew that. Didn't I? I wasn't there to meet up with a boy or anything trivial like that.

Or... had I?

A sinking dread settled in my chest as the doubt crept in, more insistent with each passing second. My heart pounded wildly, the sound of it pulsing in my ears. Fear swelled inside me, thick and suffocating. My hands instinctively clutched at my chest, desperate to steady the frantic beating beneath my ribs. But nothing helped. My thoughts spiraled, faster and faster, until my brain felt heavy, clouded, as if it were collapsing under its own weight.

What on earth was happening?

The room seemed to tilt, the world around me unsteady as I tried to make sense of the memories, of the gaps that haunted me. The truth felt close, just beyond reach, but the harder I tried to grasp it, the more elusive it became. Something was wrong. Deeply, horribly wrong.