Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-five

“Hope you enjoyed your meal Ma’am?” The elderly looking maid asked me as she cleared the dishes from the small table in Brandon’s room. I felt really uncomfortable with her serving me, but she would not hear the least of my worry for her. She was happy with her job and she claimed to be happy serving me.

It was hard to believe, but I could see the satisfaction in her eyes. She was caring for me, nurturing me in her own way. She felt like - my mother. Oh, my mother. I miss her. I hadn’t been able to call her or talk to her ever since that time, and it’s really hard to talk to her about anything I am going through right now.

I couldn’t bear to hurt her or make her feel the weight of my pain, all of the betrayal, even though I really needed someone to talk to. I guess there are some shits we’ll have to go through alone. No one can go through it with us, because they’ll only get too hurt and maybe, leave when it becomes unbearable.

Some shits really stink, and they’re better left hidden in the dark. In the depths of the latrine.

“Ma’am?” she called softly as I seemed to be lost.

“Oh, it’s Galena. Call me Galena please. And yes, I really enjoyed your cuisines. They make me feel like home.” I said quickly, offering her a small smile.

She smiled back at me with the wrinkles creasing further beyond her eyes and the elastic limit of her lips.

“I’ll make you a little desert my little daughter loves so much.” she offered with a smile. Such kindness! I nodded kindly at her with a meek smile. I couldn’t wait to taste what heavens she was about to prepare for me.

She gathered the used dishes and left the room in small, hasty steps. She seemed to be scared of the room and it seemed to be her first time in there. She was hesitant at first when I told her she could come in with the dishes, but since I didn’t come out to meet her after so long, she had to come in to meet me instead.

“If Mohammed cannot go to the mountain, the mountain has to go to mohammed.” My subconscious grinned in victory.

But if I had the slightest idea that she was this elderly, I would’ve gone out to meet her instead, but somehow, I was glad I made her come in instead. Even though she might have been hesitant at first, I could bet that she must’ve wished to come in there at one point or the other, if Brandon was not too strict with his rules on who comes in or not.

I heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed on the bed with my back against it once she had crossed the door. I could finally be alone and maybe, think things through. Everything seemed to be happening too fast and it wasn’t in the least funny. I needed a me-time to think, ask myself what I really wanted and somehow, start working towards getting it.

As I laid there on the bed thinking, I didn’t know when I drifted off to sleep, dreaming about grey eyes, tasty cuisines and strippers in clubhouses.

* * * * *

I woke up startled by the nightmares of Brandon coming to me with a sleek knife and stabbing me with it repeatedly. It felt so real that I could still feel my blood boil from my chest and I could swear that I tasted my own blood under my throat.

I sighed with relief as I realised that it was all a dream and none of it was real, but I could feel that cold fear gripping my heart from time to time. I decided to rummage through his stuff in a bid to distract my mind from the chaos that was brewing within and the battle that was setting in array.

I pulled the first drawer and it seemed to be filled with really boring stuff, ranging from old files to office pins and old staplers. I sighed in disapproval as to how organised he was even with the old stuff. Why was he keeping it still anyway?

I shut the drawer with contempt and went ahead to study the artefacts on his bedside table, and they mostly seemed to be old toys that somewhat held memories… memories that he wasn’t willing to let go of. That was the little boy in Brandon that didn’t want to grow up.

I smiled thoughtfully at every little detail in his room, from the walk-in closet to the painting and every other design instilled in the vast, imposing room. I was losing interest in the search and soon collapsed on his bed to rest again, and maybe think of better things, but something shiny caught my attention from the corner of my eyes.

It was a shiny object that cast its reflection to the wall in contrasting radiance to the streak of light that must have simpered over it. This shiny object seemed to be somewhere at the corner of the bed I was lying on. Particularly, Brandon’s side of the bed.

Curiosity drove me insane and I couldn’t stay still until I dug into the depths of this flattery object. Could be a diamond, who knows? But why would he hide it there? Did he also see me as a thief? Could be possible. I mean, if he saw me as a common slut, what else couldn’t he see me as?


I followed the direction of the reflection and dipped my hand into the corner where this object laid but quickly withdrew my hand in horror, flinching in pain as I felt a sharp cut on my index finger, causing my blood to spurt out.

What object could be behind this glamourous reflection?

I didn’t give up, but this time, I carefully dipped my hand, gently pulling out this object until it came in full view, staring intimidatingly at me. A dagger!

What was a dagger doing here!? Was he planning to kill me in my sleep? Oh no! My nightmares are finally coming true!

How do I escape before he comes back!? Somebody, save me!