Chapter 24
Michelle was lying in bed, her thoughts scampering around new possibilities and her promising future. She got her matric results today, and they were more than okay. Her father was so proud, he cried. She smiled softly. How wonderful life is. Middle of January she was starting at university, as a first year! For the first time in her life she was going to be away from home, but she was excited. Besides, Stellenbosch wasn’t that far from home. She rolled on her side, listening to the crashing of the waves. She was going to be a grown up now. Her own apartment, maybe a car, who knew?
She could feel herself drifting away into a mix of dreaming and reality. She could just see herself walking around on the beautiful campus. She had a feeling she was going to meet a very sexy final year student, and he would sweep her off her feet. She indulged herself with romantic thoughts, the thoughts of an untouched girl. She sketched a scenario in her mind, fantasies about her dream man. He would be blond, preferably.
She was just about to drift off when her bedroom door swung open, and her light went on. Startled she sat up. In the door stood her mother, her face smeared with blood. Behind her was an unknown man with a balaclava over his head, holding a gun to her head. Michelle went cold as her eyes met her mother’s.
“Mom?” She didn’t recognise her own voice, and shook as the stranger pushed her mother forward. When her mother spoke, she could hear the raw fear in her voice.
“Michelle, just get out of bed and cooperate. Please.”
Shaking, she placed her bare feet on the cold floor. She wanted to scream, but one look at her mother’s face, she knew she had to keep quiet. For the first time the man spoke.
“Move it. I don’t have all the time in the world.”
His voice was hard and emotionless, and she could feel his eyes all over her body. She moved next to her mother, frantically wondering where her father was. The criminal grabbed her by her arm, pushing her against him. He shifted the gun from her mother to Michelle. The cold steel was pressed against her head. When he spoke she smelled his breath, reeking of alchohol.
“You. Where do you keep your guns?” He was talking to her mother, who was standing helplessly in the hallway. “You do something stupid and you little princess dies.” Slowly her mother nodded. Michelle felt like she was floating. Her breath was coming out in ragged intervals, her heart was pounding so hard, she couldn’t hear what her mother replied. She felt like she had an out of body experience, as if she was dreaming. She could see her mother’s mouth move, but for some reason the blood on her face kept her attention.
Suddenly she was pushed back to reality as the man started walking towards her mother. She felt like a ragdoll in his arms.
“I told you, we don’t have guns. I gave you everything we had, all the money, all my jewels, what more do you want from us?”
Her mother was sobbing now, her hands stretched out, pleading. Michelle could still feel the barrel of the gun, now against her neck. The man started pushing her mother down the hallway, dragging her along. She was too afraid to fight or move, her eyes glued on her crying mother. The wound on her head was still bleeding.
“I want your guns. I know you have guns, you hunt. Get the fucking guns.” His voice was cold, soft. Chills travelled down Michelle’s spine, repeatedly. He knew them. How? Her mother was whimpering now, her head in her hands.
“Please, I beg you, please don’t kill us. We don’t keep the guns on the premises. I swear. It’s locked in my husband’s office at the garage. It’s not here.”
For a moment it looked like the man was going to shoot her mother. He was standing still, pressing Michelle against him. She could smell his sweat. He was just staring at her mother, a cold, blank stare.
“Too bad, we were looking forward to killing you with your own guns. Lucky for us we have a few spares.” Michelle started to cry.
“Shut up, you’ll have reason to cry later, I promise.”
He was whispering in her ear, a dark promise in his voice. Then her nodded and another man came from behind them, a large knife in his hands. He was small, the balaclava covering his face, but Michelle knew he was still a child, probably a year younger than herself. The boy rushed to her mother, the knife held in front of him. He ushered her towards the living room, and the man followed, with Michelle still pressed against him.
Her mother made a primal noise when she entered the living room. When Michelle entered the room she saw her father sitting in his favourite chair. He was tied up, his face also covered in blood. When their eyes met Michelle started to sob, this time uncontrollably. For some reason she knew, she knew that these men was here to kill them today. They were going to wipe out her whole family.
“Shut up!” The sound of a slap, mixed with her mother’s scream and her own sobs shocked her to silence. Her face was burning, and she could taste blood on her lip. Out of nowhere two other men appeared, all wearing the same attire. She was pushed to another man as her handler slowly walked towards her father. He seemed to be the leader of the group, while the other three was there to keep her and her mother busy.
His voice made a hollow noise.
“So, Mr Matthews. I guess you feel helpless, don’t you?” He gestured towards his family members, casually moving the gun. He moved towards her non responsive father, pushing his head up with the gun under his chin.
“You look at them.” Cold voice. Dreadfull.
Her father looked defeated. Michelle couldn’t keep her eyes off him, her body shivering, barely noticing the man standing next to her.
“Today you die. Today your family dies. I will start with your wife. You will watch. And then, your daughter. But for her we have a special surprise.” He looked at her, and she felt bile work its way up her throat.
Her father suddenly reacted, his body straining against the ropes binding him. He was making raw sounds, protesting, but unable to get out the words. Michelle couldn’t look at him. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out everything. She heard a laugh, and the footsteps. He was walking towards her mother. She kept her eyes closed. Suddenly she heard a thud. Her mother screaming in pain.
This wasn’t happening, not to them. Please God, please! She tried to cut out the sound by repeatedly saying the words in her head. Tears was streaming out of her clenched eyelids, she could hear the man next to her laughing. He was saying something in another language, she didn’t understand. Somewhere in the room someone was crying, making hoarse noises, pathetic sounds. She wasn’t sure if it was her or her father.
And then, the silence. She kept her face down. Her mother was silent. No noise from her side. She could hear her father’s sobs. Mixing with her own. Slowly she opened her eyes, but immediately she wished she hadn’t. She wished she would just wake up out of this nightmare. Her mother was lying on the floor, face down. Her frail body was surrounded by so much blood. Michelle could feel her knees give in. No more. She couldn’t take no more. As if she couldn’t control herself, she crawled towards her mother’s still body. For some reason they allowed her. She smelt blood and sweat. Their house stunk of it. Fear. Helplessness. Her mother was dead. No movement escaped her as Michelle touched her body. There was no place on her that wasn’t covered in blood. She didn’t care having blood on her, she just wanted to rewind. Go back in time. Everything was so unreal.
“Now, I have a little surprise for you. Your pretty daughter will live.”
Michelle didn’t even listen to him. She was staring at her father now. He looked like a different man. Her beautiful, strong father was crying, softly.
“But, she will live infected for the rest of her life. I am HIV Positive.”
His words echoed in her blank mind. She knew what was coming. This was it. Broken, she stared down to her blood covered hands. She didn’t want to look at her father. She wanted to remember him like the strong man he was. She felt empty. A warm hand closed over her arm. As he pulled her up she heard her father’s voice for the last time, raw, broken:
“In God’s name, why?”