Broken

mother ii

She sits on the floor.

A book on her lap.

She faces away from me, a few feet away from the railing

We are sitting in the balcony.

Her glossy hair sparkles in the sun.

Her small body folding slowly, she sways back and forth.

She's tired.

But she can't get up because just like me; my life, she has been ordered not to move.

After my treasure was born, I poured all my attention into her.

I loved her so fiercely.

I gave her all the affection I couldn't pry from my parents.

So paranoid was I about my fear of being like my parents I overwhelmed my baby with so much love.

During the earlier months of her birth, she was always swaddled in my arms.

To the moment she could walk and talk.

Her first word was "dada".

She adored him.

She liked to play with his glossy strands of hair as opposed to my stubborn, thick hair.

Too bad he didn't share her sentiments.

Too bad she didn't know that her father had gotten embittered about my fawning devotion to her that he tried to snuff her life out.

I had come back from a shift in the hospital to find him standing in the bathtub with her dangling from his hands.

That moment, I had never felt so scared, even those times when he unbuckled his belt to mete out punishments to me, my heart had never beaten this hard.

"I do not understand Dami. We used to be a team. Why the sudden switch over.

You know without me this baby wouldn't exist."

His slim fingers casually slip from the blue cotton shirt on my baby's body.

"Richard, please. My baby"
Tears pouring out profusely. If she died I would follow behind.

"Your baby! You belong to me. Not this!

I gave this to you"

He snaps, his eyes blazing with unrestrained anger.

Richard rarely showed emotions but whenever his eyes got like that he could do and undo.

I slowly drop my bag and get on my knees. I crawl to the tub and hold his legs.

"Please,I am sorry."

I hold on to his joggers, my nails digging into the material.

I didn't look away from his face lest he drop the baby.

Tears escaped my eyes in streams, all my nerves taut with strain.

I didn't dare look away from his gaze as I silently prayed for him not to hurt her.

He sighs and then says

"If you ever...."

He didn't finish the sentence but I understood what he meant.

I remember apologising profusely for loving my own child. For daring to offer motherly affection.

After her baby years, she entered her toddler stage.

That stage, she became very aware. My baby from the start was very smart.

She developed early.