MULATTO (Iyila) (Editing)

Chapter sixty two

Iyila laid placidly on her stench riled mattress atop the rough and hard floor of their shelter as she stared into the endless darkness of the room. Meanwhile her shelter mates: mama Brown and Delia's muffled snore mixed with the chirping of crickets from some aged holes in the floor bounced in and out of her ears. Another sound soon followed; the grumbling of her stomach. A reminder of her stubborn resolve to eat nothing despite Deila's advice. She was going to be a mother and needed to eat as often as possible, Deila had said as if she was oblivious of her growing appetite. The grumbling sound came again, startling her. Uneasy, she craned her neck to see if the sound had caused any disruption as this time was even louder as if the child itself had specifically spoke.But it appeared Deila and Mama were far too engrossed in their sleep to be jolted by the uncomfortable sound. Sighing with relief she ran her fingers through her midriff, caressed it gently and muttered a prayer. More than anything in the world she wished she was dreaming. That she wasn't pregnant and above all she had never met that cursed man. She closed her eyes again and tried to sleep hoping that when she opened them she'd be in her previous reality. That reality of her being a slave girl whose priorities were no more than house keeping and survival. But when that stubborn grumbling sound assailed her serenity, the need to continue in her falsehood vanished.
Her eyes flew open and her tears came like a flowing river. "God!" she gasped in a bid to breath as her suppressed sobs threatened to drown her.
But how could she eat when the ugly eyes of her stupidity was glaring back at her in sheer mockery. When every wave of nausea was a reminder of how idiotic a person she was. How in heavens name could she continue such gesture when every little food she managed to nibble was inappropriately apportioned between her and the growing offspring of that bastard. The wretched imp!
The cruel, cursed, heartless man whom had stole all her vital possessions. Ranging from her heart to her innocence ,only to discard her with painful memories and a living souvenir she wasn't sure she could maintain; his child!
Goodness! How could he be so cruel! What wrong did she commit by loving him? What was her offense by giving him her all without any form of reservation?
And why had he come running to her with false promises when she had already accepted their moments as a passing passionate fling.Had she not already accepted her fate as nothing but a Negro who had satisfied his burning loins! Then why had he come to her with promises of a standing love and swift return?
Or had his conscience plagued him so hard that at that point he couldn't have left without placating her soul with his sweet words and weightless promises?
Or was this fashion of parting with a lover?
But again, why had his eyes been so moist at the time he'd confessed his love for her? Had it been out of astute mockery when he'd seen her cry so hysterically. Or it had been a result of the pressing laughter he'd suppressed while he was skillfully knitting his lies.
God curse that man! She wearily thought as she cried into her mattress.

But how dare you curse that man!

A tiny voice from deep within harshly rebuked. How dare her think evil of him when he'd pre-warned about the dangers of their entanglement. Did he not tell her that they would not be able to stop once they began. Was his assertion not true?
It was a painful pill. Worse to even admit to her self but had she not been the one to beg him to continue. Had she not been the one to readily part her thighs without even the slightest show of resistance. How then could a man like him whom was very used to receiving respect a woman like her who had acted so shamelessly. What more was there to want when she had thrown herself so cheaply at him. Was she not the one who had urged him to take her even when he'd outlined the many consequences. Did he force her?
Had he not furnished her knowledge with the correct description of his person?
Had he not been blunt about his philosophies about love and sex. Did he not tell before that he was not a man who believed in love but in need and satisfaction. Had he not even gone further to explain that he could marry a woman he didn't love as long as she could satisfy him. Had Gabriel not told her that even the beautiful, flawless Anne was just a dutiful distraction?
How then could she whose appearance and charisma would be more than a slander to Anne's personality if compared, be the one for Gabriel to love!

Perhaps the night at the cave was a mistake but what about the others? The bed of roses, at the stream and in their shelter. What more could a man like Gabriel want from a woman who would readily submit by only twitching the side of his lip. What more could he want from a woman that would quickly undress just by the simplest flatter which perhaps he'd used for more than ten dozen women. A woman whom would loose her balance by staring at his green eyes.

Indeed she was a fool. She had acted so imprudently. Ironically though, but had she not been the one whom had once termed Amanda's feelings for Amos as highly delusional and idiotic. How come she who had frowned at such relationships, being a product herself, be caught in such a pitiful dilemma.

As Iyila thought of it now, she felt engulfed by a fresh pain. No doubts she'd been ridiculously daft. Else, she should have known that Gabriel was no more than a White and as such there wasn't the faintest hope for their relationship.
Possibly she wouldn't be so heartbroken if she had regarded how his body had stiffened inside of her when she had whispered into his ears the love she felt inside the night before they left Okahana. But she had been too happy to care. Or maybe too stupid and scared to attach valuable meaning to it.

See where it has gotten you.

How did she get here again? How did she become so weak? She sadly thought.

Love! Yes love was the word. Love was the only logical yet pathetic reason for a woman like her to have thrown all caution to the wind. Indeed she fell. Apparently too hard. Little wonder she was so broken. Pssh! Foolish love! Blasted love! Cursed love! Spit on love! Shit on love! God punish love and all it's advocates!

But first, a thousand strokes for Gabriel and perhaps the remainder for his colleagues.

A/N: Another chapter. Where in heavens name is Gabriel? Do u think thers still hope for Iyila and Gabriels relationship? . Hope u didn't have to wait for too long. Plus I hope u enjoy it as much as I did. Pls vote if u like the chapter plus don't forget to add ur comment. Already working on the next chap. Sorry for any errors not properly edited tho