Mango

Chapter Eight.

So here I am sitting, waiting for my father to come to pick me up. To say that I've been nervous would be a major understatement. From what my mother had told me, Johan wasn't a good man whatsoever. He was a cruel man who left her legs open and vandalized on the day of her rape. For all, we know he could do the same to his own daughter, and Lord knows how much I wish I'm wrong. I'd die a broken child, raped by strangers than her own father.

A knock sounded at the door, and a nurse walked in. She smiled at me slightly and told me that someone had come to pick me up. I stood up and followed her out. Throughout the corridors of Charlotte Maxele hospital, I had been praying Khaya had been the one waiting for me outside those big doors. If it meant I'd have to deal with his psycho bewitched girlfriend, then so be it. But I knew in the back of my head that Johan would be waiting for me, hopefully not alone. I'd want witnesses if anything were to happen.

The doors opened by themselves and I watched the nurse approach a white man with dirty blond hair, green eyes, and a terrible smile that looked so sadistic that I felt like running in the opposite direction and admitting myself into hospital. Even though I had brown eyes, there was a resemblance. I had his gigantic forehead, eyebrows, and English nose. Damn, I felt like some forced reincarnation of some sort. I couldn't believe I was related to that. Never mind the relation, I'm his biological daughter. That has to be worse than being a relative or something, right?

"Mango, my dear child. I've always wanted to meet you." That smile was so fake. I could feel it in my gut. He was faking it, maybe until the nurse left our sight. "Thank you very much, nurse. I'm really  thankful for taking care of these sweet cheeks of mine." He said while he pinched my right cheek. At that time I felt like my dimple would go into hiding and never come out. He was squeezing it too much, trying to convince the nurse he was some sort of a good person. And the nurse being the nice nurse that she is, left me there in front of the hospital with Johan and two other guys dressed in black.

He mumbled something to the two guys that I couldn't hear. My worry slowly turned into confusion when one of the guys grabbed me by the elbow and pushed me into the backseat of the black Range Rover Evoque. "Uhm, what's going on?" I asked as the car started speeding towards the direction of Houghton. I received no answer and I figured I wouldn't be answered anytime, so I'd rather not test anyone's patience with my endless stream of questions. I was seated near the window, looking out at the scenery. Focusing on nothing but my own thoughts.

Khaya.

Where had he gone? I was waiting for him to return sometime soon before Johan, but he never did. I wasn't sure if I was disappointed or hurt. But I couldn't be hurt, because I didn't know him. I must have been disappointed. Disappointed in him for not caring enough to come back and pick me up. Disappointed in myself for letting my mind wander beyond the barriers of the possible, thinking the grass might be greener somewhere on the other side. And you know what's funny? I'm disappointed that I'll never see the other side.

The car was driving all the way out of Johannesburg, passing Rosebank, Woodmead, Malboro, Midrand, Centurion and we eventually got to Pretoria. It was the first time I've ever been to Pretoria, and might I add that it was much cleaner than Johannesburg.

One second I was looking at the boards we were passing then the next my eyes were roughly covered by a cloth. I was seated there wondering what the hell was going on. "What are you doing?" I voiced quite calmly. A little too calm if you ask me. "Hello? Answer me, please. I have every right to know what's happening, or at least what's going to happen." Again
I received no answer and I was beginning to slowly panic. I knew my instincts were correct; I was going to die today.

"You know, Mango, you look just like your mother. She was such a nuisance back in the day and I'm glad my father helped me see that. You know, I didn't rape your mother though that was the story she was forced to tell you. The very same story to make you despise me, yet you didn't know me one bit. I swear she was almost the love of my life. You know that saying, Once you go black, you never go back. Well, in my case I was fortunate enough to go back before she had the chance to deceit me. My dear Thandi was one of a kind. She was married to someone else during our relationship and I must say she's taught me a valuable lesson; never trust anything with an opening down south." He finished off, making me more confused than ever.

My mother was never married. She had always wished she was. Johan has to be lying. He wants to taint my mother's image in my eyes, but I won't allow him. Not now and not ever. "You're lying. You raped her and left her to raise a child alone. Then you left her to die. You didn't almost love her. You didn't know her at all." I was livid by the time the car came to a halt and I was dragged out of the car, not knowing where I was lead to. Johan laughed at what I said, causing my tummy to turn in fear. What was he going to do?

I walked for a few more minutes before I was thrown onto a metal chair and the cloth was removed from my eyes, revealing a worn-out bed. I looked around and realized that the paint on the walls had started to peel off and the stench in this room reminded me of rotting bodies. I'm definitely dying today.

Johan wore black gloves before smirking in my direction. "You're going to be my best-selling prostitute ever." He said proudly. Did I hear that right though? Me? A prostitute? My own father wanted me to be a prostitute. I thought I've seen it all until today. As I was about to ask a question or two, or maybe even cuss him out, a black man walked in and smiled. "Bafana, here's the one I've been telling you about. She looks good, doesn't she?" Johan chuckled along with Bafana as he nodded in agreement.

"She looks promising," Bafana said as he neared toward me. My heart was pounding so fast that if I didn't have a heart attack soon, it would be by God's grace. "Johan, I suggest you give this girl and me time to get busy before her real customers pile up." Bafana voiced as Johan gave a nod and left. Bafana smiled a sadistic one, which gave me goosebumps.

Oh, Jesus God me help me.

Before I could say anything Bafana picked me up and threw on the most disgusting bed I've ever been on. He pulled Khaya's sweats off my legs, leaving me in Khaya's smallest pair of undies. Now I was in real panic mode. He reached for the undies and that's when I released the loudest scream in the history of horror movies. This felt like a horror itself.