The Sanctuary #3

in #fiction6 years ago

Ngozi could not ignore the tension between the young ladies before her, it was almost amusing. She was more interested though in the reason for the tension, since it was apparent that the ladies didn’t know each other before.
She watched as Amaka lied through her teeth in response to Calista’s greeting, it was obvious she was not pleased to meet her. That was surprising since Amaka has shown herself to be a cheerful person, always having a smile for everyone.

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Maybe she felt threatened by the presence of a new worker. Did she really think she would be the only one?
“So I should expect you tomorrow?” she asked, turning to look at Calista who obviously was yet to warm up to Amaka.
“Yes Ma,” Calista replied. “see you tomorrow, bye.”
“Bye,”Ngozi replied, mentally shaking her head at the unexplainable reason for dislike on the part of Amaka. For the first time, she was happy about the warning given to her not to interfere. She was lost for words. She was rarely lost for words.
“I will be inside if you need me,” she said to Amaka. She walked into the space behind the wooden partition which served as her office, without waiting for a reply. She had some thinking and meditation to do. Human beings were beginning to get on her nerves.
* * *
Calista stepped out into the street with a frown. “What was wrong with her?” she wondered, referring to Amaka and thinking about her rude welcome. She had not even bothered to hide it.
Ngozi had spoken so nicely of her, that she had looked forward to meeting her, and yet she was nothing like she was described, though she was very beautiful.
Amaka’s beauty was the first thing that struck her, and the fact that she seemed unaware of it. Maybe the beauty was what deceived Ngozi into believing that she was good.
“I need this job,” Calista said to herself as she walked towards the bus stop. The day promised to be hot, with the sun already scorching and eight a.m., adding to the growing anger Calista felt towards Amaka.
“I need this job, and I have gotten it. If she wants war, she would get it. If she want peace, it is also available,” still murmuring, she flagged down a bike man and went home, planning her mode of action tomorrow. It was obvious she needed to be prepared for Amaka.

Calista Ofoegbu had never had anything handed down to her. She has had to fight and work for everything she had, which was just her education and her freedom.
Her early years were spent in an abusive home. She lived with a father who found every opportunity to abuse her mother, and a mother who lacked the spine to stand up for herself.
Ifeanyi Ofoegbu always found a reason to demonstrate to any woman who the man was. There was always something her mother did wrong, and he used each opportunity to teach her a lesson. She was either always nagging or never replying him, or she was too dressed up or not dressed up enough. He always found a reason to slap her around, he enjoyed being the boss.
Even at the young age of two, Calista knew she had to stay out of his path. Her mother hid her each time the sound of his car sounded, and Calista would watch from her hiding place as her mother would be pummeled until her father was satisfied, and then he would demand for food.
Her father never spoke to her or even looked at her, it was as if she was invisible to him, until the year she turned six, when he killed her mother in one of his demonstrations of power.
Her father was an influential man in the community, and though her mother’s cries had rung daily for years, there was no one to prove what was obvious. She had been beaten to death.
Playing the role of a mourning widower, her father kept her in his sight, though he still didn’t speak to her. There were always people around him who took care of her needs during the grieving process. Staying close to her father, Calista she saw how ugly he was inside and out, and she had her first taste of hatred.
The following six years saw him paying scores of women who took care of anything concerning her while he avoided her totally. A plan which worked perfectly well for Calista as she was used to staying out of his way, she only pitied the women, all of who left after been beaten by him.
He was like an animal on the loose, and seemed to derive pleasure in hurting women. Every woman was to be a slave to a man, and he was the main man in their lives since they worked for him.
After each woman left, Calista expected a police case or anything that would be served to him as the consequence for his actions, and each time she was disappointed, he was feared.
By the time Calista was twelve years old, the word had gone round, and no other lady agreed to work for him which annoyed him so much, he attacked Calista.
He had started shouting from the door.
“Where is she?” he asked, referring to Calista. He found her cowering in her room and smiled with satisfaction at the fear in her eyes. “All your stupid mother could do was to give birth to a prostitute like her, and she left you behind.”
“My mother is not a prostitute and she was only stupid because she married you.” The words left Calista’s mouth, surprising them both.
“You dare talk back at me?” Ifeanyi shouted, quickly getting over the shock. “I will teach you the lesson of your life.” He moved towards her.
So eager was he to deal with her, he didn’t see the loose carpet which made him trip and slowed him down. The obstacle was a chance for Calista to run out of her room.
All she could see was the look of anger in his eyes, and the limp body of her dead mother. She knew he would kill her if he got to her.
She decided to lay in wait for him to come into the kitchen looking for her.
“Where are you, you can’t run far…”
The first blow cut short his words.
She meant to slow him down long enough for her to run out of the house, but the satisfaction she got from the sound of the impact of the frying pan on his head was so much, she gave another and another, until his blood splashed on her face, waking her into realisation of what she had done. It took her only a few minutes to get over the shock and clean herself up.
Nobody doubted her explanation when she cried for help. She told them the same thing over and over: a man with a masked face had entered their home, and out of fear, she ran to hide in her room. She heard a tussle, and only came out when there was silence to meet the dead body of her father.
Nobody wanted to pursue the thought that she lied, because it would mean she killed her father. Nobody wanted to think of a world where a twelve year old would kill her father and yet remain so calm.
Everyone was just happy his reign of terror was over.
Calista was sent to from one orphanage to another. Her father had succeeded in cutting away all family ties. She was alone.
She learnt to survive in a hard way. She found a way to learn different vocations, and skills. She could do many things, she could do anything. It all depended on what was needed at that time.
This time, she decided to be a hairdresser, because she had a plan. She would not allow anything stand in her way, not even the beautiful Amaka.

#1: https://mspsteem.com/fiction/@djoi/the-sanctuary-1

#2: https://mspsteem.com/fiction/@djoi/the-sanctuary-2

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I love your depth and your powers of description, I think I will have to ask for a one on one coaching. Good work, can't wait for the next post.

What a great inspirational story! Thank you for sharing it with us! I will Resteem for you, you can Follow me?

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