"He recognized me!", she thought. She kept jogging. "I will rather die than go back!" She resolved. She kept her head low to hide the scars on her face and neck and kept jogging. "Jogging in the rain is quite relaxing. But don't catch the cold Ma'am", advised the security man as he opened the pedestrian gate. She jogged past him and out of the gate. "Free!! Free at last!!!", she thought! He did not notice the flip-flops on her feet. She started running. Faster. "I know you are working God, please don't fail me.", she prayed. She got onto the walkway, with the shrubs as cover, she wrung the wet shirt to take off the excess rain water. Putting the shirt back on, she resumed running again.
Too happy to celebrate, too tired to feel joy. She felt the rear pocket of the jeans. Yes, the ATM cards are there. As always. The images came flooding. She had done his laundry, and as usual, he complained. "You didn't iron them properly, especially the shirts, you good-for-nothing imbecile!", he said as he slapped her. She did not feel the sting of the slap as much as she felt the sharp pain in her neck as her head turned almost more than 180 degrees. Tears shot to her eyes so fast it felt like a tsunami had hit. She didn't dare make a sound or, as experience had thought her, he will hit her harder. She quickly took the shirts to laundry room to re-iron them. On getting back to the room, he snatched the shirts off her hands, grabbed her by the collar of the dress she had on, and started throwing punches at her face. "You've succeeded in making me late for work again you witch!", he spat at her. She dared not reply. He kept at it, hitting her for what felt like hours but was merely four minutes. After he had stopped, she could not stand. She only felt him step on her stomach to the bathroom. This he repeated when he got out.
She thought she had fainted, because when she came to, he was not there. He had locked her in his room and gone to work. Her first time lying in that room in over a year. She crawled into the bathroom, struggling to stand up, she drank water straight from the table at the washbasin, cleaned it up so he wouldn't notice, and crawled back to the room.
She must have slept off there, dreaming of freedom. She can't contact anyone for help. That beast had her phones, ATM cards and International Passport locked in his room! His room!! That's where she's locked up in! Mustering all the strength she had, she got up and, bit by bit, began searching the drawers and wardrobes. She had been searching for about ten minutes when she remembered. The safe! "God, please let it be the same.", she prayed. God was listening. The safe clicked at first attempt. The son of a gun still uses the same password, his year of birth. Her jewelries, ATM cards, Identity Cards and International Passports were all there, along with some money and his private documents. She took her International Passports, ATM Cards, and her mother's three diamond rings. They had been with her in every pair of jeans she had worn since that day. Waiting for this day.
She used the third ATM machine she saw as it was the only one with nobody waiting. She withdrew to the daily limit on two of the cards and fixed the money in every pocket of her jeans. She was calmer now. With cash, her cards and her passports in hand, she walked to the darker side of the road. The second taxi was driven by an older man. She got in. "Take me to the mainland.", she asked.
- The Lady
“For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of light:
(For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;)”
Ephesians 5:8-9
No comments:
Post a Comment