Saving Rwanda

Pernicious Beginnings

Prostrate, she often lied under a Blackwood acacia tree, savoring the smell of the breeze.   Her only task was to relish the light yellow flowers blooming from the empowering monument.  Captivated by her thoughts she drifted into a deep sleep, lobbing her safety in the care of a liable giraffe.  Her fear did not lie in Uganda and her cares were never in Zaire. Blackwood helped her forget about everything, and everything was soon forgotten.  Wanda endured a life envied by none, her life was cultivated in lies and soon she will return back to her world.  A world, no child should travail.

 As Wanda gravitates back to this world, each step begins to sound like a crippled horse galloping on rotted wood. Marah staggers looking for her prey.  Each hit on the wall shattered every ounce of peace and comfort Wanda had left.  She runs for safety, hides from her mother in her closet and with a breath of release and fear, she ball’s herself up like a reluctant fetus. Blackwood can no longer cover her, and the giraffe, defenseless against a woman scorned by none other than herself, Marah.  

 Intoxicated Marah. Wanda.  Her room.  The Closet.  The dark.  Her tears.  That’s the reality she faces.

 It was Saturday and Marah always drank Wray &Nephews white rum, it sheared away her humanity.  Intoxicated Marah was always approached by the silhouette of her past and her mistakes, thus freeing a cannibal on a leash. 

 Marah Moore was a young woman who was once dedicated to school and her virtue. One day she decided to attend her first college party. It was an environment that harbored the stench of danger.

 What was a straight A, virgin doing in a place like this?

 She was invited by her chem. class colleague and thought it would only be polite if she kept her word and went. She convinced herself that this was a onetime experience and that she’ll only be there for an hr…or so. She remembered drinking her father’s wine and figured the blue concoction they had at the party would be no different so she had herself a cup. She was conflicted by the delicious flavor and the strong kick of the blue punch so she had herself another and another and so on.

 Hours went by, and to her surprise she blacked out. Cognizant she awoke in a bathroom tub, with a torn blouse, spit on her breast and blood on her thighs and half of the party standing beside the door staring.

 In every war there is blood spilt, shattering the future of a thousand hearts, tainting the promise in a child’s soul. Marah’s heart imploded, leaving nothing else but a broken and confused spirit. Marah staggers out of the tub, too shocked to cry and her rapist already fled from the scene before anyone had a clue. Marah closed the bathroom door and sat on the floor. Unable to process what happened, stress came in an abundance and in less than 5 minutes she fainted once more.

Marah lied in Yale - New Haven Hospital where she stayed for 2 days due to a phycogenic Black-out and vaginal bleeding. The cops were doing their job, it'll be easy to track a fool who'll leave spit on his victim. Her gown revealed curves that she then grew ashamed of. Abashedly she rose from the hospital bed to change. The slit on the back of the gown mocked her, baring entries trespassed by her encroacher. Four days later Marah and her mother returned to the hospital for a pregnancy test, here lies the day that can potentially conclude the rest of her freedom and the recovery of her joy. Marahs parents did not believe in abortions and although in the state of Connecticut minors need no consent from their parents for abortions, Marah feared and respected her parents wishes.

 "Ms. Moore you appear to be pregnant," the nurse said with a monotone voice and a lack of empathy.

 "What! No.  I want another test! Please."  Marah badgered.

Clouds rolled, shutters closed and flung open recurrently, water bursted through the windows, the salt in the water burned through her eyes, bleeding, apologies, hate, anger, mourning with a douse of fear. All Marah could do was cry, she couldn't be confronted, she couldn't feel love. A product of him now brews inside of her and she hates it.

 "Ma'am the test is positive.  You are one hundred and ten percent pregnant.  sorry."  The nurse forgot that what sat in front of her was not a promiscuous tramp, but a victim of a crime all parents, all women should fear.