JUDGE ME, I DARE YOU!

CHAPTER THREE; KILLER CHILD

   I lost my dad when I was seven and my mum, when I was eleven- I was so certain of the hate they had for me before they died.

"Chimó,
Esomchi, what have you done?" Asked my mother who's ears and nostrils flourished with blood.

"Mummy, I was just trying to save you- he wanted to kill you" I said weeping.

I may have been the first seven year old to commit murder, in the history of killer children.

I killed my dad!

    My mother was my dad's favorite punching bag, Since I was born...not a single day went by without my dad physically and violently abusing my mum. My mum told me stories too... how my dad found pleasure in beating her up, even when she was pregnant with me. My mother's body was filled with an unreasonable number of scars she got from being belt-flogged.

My mother had always denied my eyes the access of watching my father hurt her, so whenever daddy was angered... mummy made sure to hide me in the wardrobe until daddy was done venting his anger on her- and all I could do was hear her cry and whimper from pain...a pain she didn't have to endure.

I got back from school on a Friday... earlier than I normally did. I walked in on my dad hitting my mum with an iron rod; again!...It was either I stopped him or he would have killed my mum. I ran quickly, pulling the medium sized lamp stand from the socket and released it into the air with a hard fling that it hit my dad on his head.

My dad dropped to the ground holding the back of his head, and that was the moment my dad ceased to exist.

"Eso, your Father is dead" said my mother after retrieving her fingers from his neck- from checking for a pulse.

My mum took the blame, but still wasn't punished by the law since it was an act of self defense.
Since my father didn't get a memo to write us a will and since he never disclosed any information about his finances and savings to my mother and I, it all went to a waste... leaving my mother and I outrageously broke.

In less than a year, my mum and I moved out of the four-bedroom apartment my dad rented, into a smaller and cheaper one since we couldn't afford any atom of luxury.

I am the only child of my parents, was once a blessing- now a curse...since I killed my father and brought shame and poverty upon my mother and myself.

Like my mother never failed to remind me... "my birth was just an accident waiting to happen"- and here I am... happening.

"At least, your father fed us after beating me up, that was a good life we had there before you took him away from me" said my mum

"I was trying to help ma; it was a mistake- am sorry mummy" I said

"Did I send you?
Answer me, I send you work?
Now look, see how fast am emaciating... look at you, there's no money to send you to school.
Will you get out of my presence now?...
My life would have been better without you as my child" yelled mummy in a shaky voice.

My mother worried a lot, only if she knew worrying never makes the broth boil any faster.

    I dropped out of school and continued to assist my mum in hawking pure water and egg rolls; we survived in this way for another four years ... until my mum died. She was probably sick of me and the diabetes she had managed for five years.

CHAPTER END
KILLER CHILD, this was a weird chapter to write... and if you must know, there's certainly more weirdness in store- but the weird thing about all these weirdness is that this narrative happens to be the existence of so many people out there. Wow!

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