BURN for Better or Worse (COMPLETED)

PREFACE

PREFACE...

The creaking sound of a door opening and closing always turns my head in this hovel, not this time. Shivers ripple through me and a familiar scent prickles the most sensitive parts of my nostrils.
Two years away from him and I have not forgotten the scent that got me high on ecstasy, it once made me feel safe, like I was untouchable. Time killed that feeling, now his scent torments me, it comes with an overflow of painful memories.
This rocking chair should have a voice by now, I use it more than I use the bed. I have made this window and everything outside it my companions. There was nothing else to do, the loneliness of this place would turn a nun into a party animal. 
“Are you here to take me home?” Seven hundred and thirty days I pictured him walk through the door and ask me to come home with him, I yearned to hear the words roll out of his tongue.
What I did not prepare myself for is my reaction to the request. I'm angry, I was angry when he brought me here that day and I am still angry today.
The 23rd of August 2018, it was a dusty Tuesday around 4pm. The receptionist was wearing a… let me stop there before I prove men right, they say we keep track of dates, time and how far the sun was positioned away from the crescent moon when a particular event took place.
“Yes.” He replies to my question.
Why do we inquire about things we don’t want to hear answers to? What will I do with this ‘yes’ he has just given me?
The sound of his footsteps run to my ears, he’s taking slow strides in. I can see him from the corner of my eye. He always thought I was in sync with him, went wherever he pointed. Somehow I believe this is how my downfall came about.
“Let’s go.” A commander he is, he should have joined the army.
“I don’t want to go.” My mouth ought to hurt after this lie, my punishment will be ten times fold. I prayed every day to a God I do not know exists anymore, I asked, pleaded and cried that he takes me out of this hospital, since I was locked away with my demons.
The world thought they would be safe if I were put away with my secrets. They were not ready to hear the terrible reality that only my mind concealed.
“Thandiwe.” Argh, I am overthrown that he still gets what he wants. I’m looking at him, although I didn’t want to.
Sjava’s long lost brother, I can hardly recognize him with that bushy hair and the beard that has built a forest of hair around his cheeks.
His face had become a distant memory to me, I was beginning to forget it. Why did he have to come back and torment me? I was better off without him, his toxic past and the half of him that took my soul away.

“I love you.” His heavy-lidded eyes do not lack the passion, although stained with fatigue and dread, the love that once dwelt there is glazed in them. The struggles of life are creased beneath his eyes. However I hate this expression and everything it comes with, everything it represents. Love is evil.
“Don’t tell me that.” I didn’t stop him years ago, I can do it today.
“I love you Thandiwe.” His deep voice rings in my ears bringing about a thud in my heart, I can’t fall again. I would come crushing face down, and no matter how much he tries to catch me, he would fail.
“Thandiwe.” He snaps.
I would think he missed calling my name, I need him to stop. I am not strong for this, maybe I am better off in this place. 
“Come home with me.” He says, moving away from the door post, he’s coming to me. One step closer and I would be following him like a lost soul that can’t find the light. Unwillingly, my feet move back, I gasp as my back hits the window.
“Is that what you really want?” I ask, I can hardly recognize my voice. It could be fear, the sound of my heart breaking or having him close to me after two whole years. 
Guilt is one mean dictator, his heart might not be in it. My mother always told me that, if you want to know what a man is thinking, look into his eyes. I’m afraid of the truth, hence my eyes are everywhere, but on him.
“I want to be with you.” He reveals the secret behind his dark eyes, I want the same thing, but how can we be when my hands are stained with blood? I turn back to face the window, I wish for him to go. I wish I never heard his voice nor looked at him. 
“Thandiwe.” If I’m not afraid of a dog growling at me, what makes him think his growl would make me tremble? I can hear his heavy breathing from behind me, his anger is nothing compared to mine.
“I left you here years ago and I've regretted it everyday, I will not do it again.” Guilty is burning him, that’s the only reason he came back.
“What about Zulu? What do I tell him?” He asks.
The last time I heard that name I was being dragged into this place. My Zulu, he hasn’t seen me or heard my voice in a long time. How did he survive without me? 
“Whatever you told him two years ago.” I’ve been given a hammer and I am using it to shatter my own heart, I yearn for my Zulu. I yearn to hold him close and tell him that I love him.
“That you’re going away?” I don’t know if that’s meant to be a question or he is checking if my screws are still loose. I take offence in everything since I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, a fancy English word used to describe a gifted black person who sees the supernatural.
He’s too close to me, I can feel his warm breath sliding down my neck. I feel suffocated, I can’t breathe and I want it to stop.

A tight grip on my waist forces me to turn around, I refuse to look at him. I will not be looking into his eyes. But then again, my hands have found shelter on his chest and I feel the weight of his eyes on me.
“Look at me Thandiwe,” his voice is pleading, yet demanding. “Remember all you have to do is look into my eyes.” That’s what I don’t want, I hate him. But my cheeks recognize the touch of his hands and they decide to get comfortable.
“All you have to do is look into my eyes.” He moves his face lower to meet my eyes, he is waiting for an answer while drilling his gaze deep into my soul, he won’t let go until I give it to him.
“And I will never get lost.” Eventually I finish the sentence like I always did.
“Mommy, mommy, mommy.” They are back, the demonic voices are chanting my name again. Whimsical, eerie whispering, child-like voices murmur my name in a rhythmic tune.
I knew I shouldn’t have touched him, this is a punishment. God decides to take a walk down the streets of gold each time I enter his throne room meanwhile in the other spirit realm, my ancestors are napping.
“You have to go, please get out of here.” A desperate appeal splutters out of my mouth.
My scream refuses to block the voices, I’m curled up under a white sheet. It keeps the evil away, that’s what I believe.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” I chant the verse as loud as I can, my hands have gone to battle with my ears, it’s an order to push out the voices and bring my mind back to submission.

To be continued...