Life and General Fiction Stories

Plain Yellow (Part 1)

He raped her.

At the first thrust, he maintained a stillness which was loud on its own, but he remained that way for some seconds; perhaps thinking of what he was about to do. He soon let it go and started moving. He went faster and faster and closed his eyes to savour her sweetness, all the while, deafened to her cries.

He liked her, he has always liked her from the very first time his wife brought her in. Her innocent face caught his attention first that cold Saturday morning.

Her “good morning sir” melted his heart and when she tried to stand up from the greeting position, his eyes rested on her cleavage. He nodded in answer and watched her follow his wife, his eyes lingered on her backside, watching the swaying of her hips.

He wanted to resist the temptation like any other responsible man would, he told his wife to take her back, but his wife went on and on about how useful she was, her ability to do house chores well and cook good food.

“She is well-behaved,” she said.

She said ‘well behaved’ like those elderly person who knew nothing else about you;just the fact that you walk alone on the streets, dressed properly and greeted them was enough to earn the title of a well-behaved child.

She was indeed well-behaved, well-behaved enough to kneel and beg him when he closed the door after asking her to come in and pull her clothes.

“Please sir, I can do any other thing you want but not this.”

He was taken aback at her guts, the ability to tell him what she could do and what she couldn’t do and well-behaved enough to add ‘please’. It infuriated him and he landed her a slap which made her fall. He wanted to remind her that she was their maid, his maid. He has the right to tell her to eat shit and she would obey because he clothed and sheltered her and paid her parents in the village monthly salaries for her service.

But he didn’t say a word, he lifted her from the floor and threw her on the bed. He undressed her roughly, his long fingers inflicting pain on her as it scratched her body.

“You will tell no one of this, am I understood?” he said. She nodded in tears too tired to speak from his attack on her member.

He opened his eyes when she started wailing loudly in Igbo and saying, “oh my mother, come and save me!”

“Shut up,” he said and forced his sweaty singlet into her mouth to muffle her cries.

He held her hands above her head and dug further into her body smiling devilishly to himself.

Each thrust caused her more pain as one would strike a stick of match to continuously to get fire, each thrust filled her with hatred for him, each thrust helped her nurse the desire to poison him.

He felt fulfilled and satisfied as the man of the house who has the right to get whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted it.

“Get up and go clean your body,” he said to her when he finally let her go.

She was lost for some seconds before she came to, she stood up slowly feeling her entire body on fire with tickling pain running through her abused part. She tried not to allow her thighs touch to avoid more pain, so she walked with her legs apart.

He called her back to take the blood stained sheet, warning her to wash it before her madam returns.

Her tears ran freely as she removed the sheet from the bed. This was her being asked to wash away proof of her virginity taken away by a monster. The world just lied to her, she knew it wouldn’t be easy but it never told her it would be this bad, she was being asked to to cut her heart out and still remain alive without it.

She didn’t say a word, she only nodded as an answer as usual in her well behaved way.

Silence is not always golden, sometimes it is plain yellow, so speak up whenever you can and report any case of abuse no matter how small. The world outside can help too and deliver these ones from such homes.

My heart goes out to those young girls abused in people’s houses.
I know
I understand
More importantly, God knows.

Read Part Two.

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