MOM, I'M COMING HOME
I stood comfortably in between the railways waiting for it to come—my freedom. It had taken me several attempts to get this close to my long awaited freedom. Every attempt in the past had been a little bit late, but today, I was on time, waiting for the arrival.
Life had always been sweet until the news dug deep into dad's chest and left him shattered in a constant state of delirium. It all began one Friday night when he came back late at night looking disoriented. He had come home with heavy stench of alcohol and when mom enquired, he hushed her with a slap and several fist pummelling while spurting, "you're the reason I just lost my job. You and that witch daughter of yours. Give me my own child!"
Mom had told me when I turned five that she had been barren and her marriage had been full of sadness until I came. She told me that the day she picked me up from the sewage marked the beginning of her happiness.
"Where's that witch daughter of yours," dad thundered followed by a heavy thud that shook me. Then silence. I felt relieved from my room where I heard everything that had happened and suddenly, I heard heavy footfalls coming up the stairs. I made to lock my door but his bulk feature was standing before me. I retreated back in terror upon meeting him at the door. I stopped, expecting the impact of a slap on my cheek but I felt nothing. I opened my eyes and saw the leering smile on his face and I knew he was up to mischief.
He had his way with me that night and every other night. That night was the last I heard or saw mom. He told me she went parking that night, and if only I'd allow him make me a woman, I could bore him a child that she couldn't.
Morning, afternoon, night, he had me in a ruthless manner. Thrusting deep in me and shattering my womb. I complained of the pain one night but he told me I had no option than to be submissive to him.
I couldn't bear the pain anymore, I wanted my freedom. To break free. The kitchen knife that slit his throat while he was jerking on me gave me the leap of faith. I knew I had done him a favour; I had freed him from his bondage, from the demon that possessed him, but I never wanted same type of freedom. I wanted something peaceful.
I could see the face of my freedom now. It had a bright light; almost blinding me and I heard the horn blaring—the trumpet, I presumed. I stepped onto the railway by my left, closed my eyes for the transition and in the blackness of my shut eyes, I saw mom smiling down at me, beckoning me home. Then I whispered;
"Mom, I'm coming home."
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