mystery_flame

PAINKILLER

I just got my release papers after spending seven years in prison. You might all be wondering why I got in prison. It's that simple. I killed a man for raping me. Now, most people and the court didn't see what I did as self defence because that man was my husband. They thought me cruel and heartless to murder a man who I was supposed to love. I don't blame them because they were actually right but they did not know the full story behind my charade of a marriage. I only blame my parents for selling me off and getting me married against my will. I had just turned eighteen and I wanted to enjoy my adulthood but they ruined my plans. They got me married and I spent the other years in prison. 

I was the only child of my parents and things were not so good for us. I was willing to not go to school in order to help them hustle and provide. But they thought marrying me off would solve our financial needs. I begged and pleaded but they wouldn't listen. And after three months of marriage, I turned a murderer. 

I was willing to leave all that in the past now and start anew. But I couldn't help but wonder if my past was willing to leave me and let me start anew. One way or the other, I knew, that my past was gonna come haunt me. And I don't know if I was prepared or not yet. 

"Victoria Williams?" a female police officer asked me when I got to the counter. 

"Yes ma'am," I replied and nodded. 

I watched her fill out a book and let me sign. She gave me some new clothes and a wallet. Another police officer unlocked my handcuffs and showed me a room to change in. 

I changed quickly and observed myself in a mirror. I had changed a whole lot. All my fat was gone and was replaced by thin skin,  jutting bones and sunken eyes. The new clothes made me presentable to the world I was going to meet and that was satisfactory. I walked out the changing room to the waiting room to be greeted by a small girl who ran and hugged me. 

"Mummy," she said.

MY PAINKILLER

I held her in my arms as she sobbed into my chest, devastated and exhausted. It had been hours and they still could not find her parents.

The siren wailed loud behind the tree where we hid, the voices of firefighters and police officers were mixed together, shouting orders and creating a general chaotic place.

No one cares about the little child that was supposed to be in the fire, no one even asked where she was. Well, she was with me, crying.

She had been with me all along and that was only what saved her.

It had been night and the thirteen year old me had opened my window to call out to our neighbor who lived just beside our house, even her window was just oppeosute mine.

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