Inspired by the Holy Spirit
Written by Damilola Babs
From the stable of Reflection Book Hub
He tore her underwear impatiently and had his way. Mary couldn’t tell which pain hurt her most. The sharp one that went in between her legs, the one in her face from his countless slaps or the sharp knife that stood upright in her stomach. She silently wept and prayed for forgiveness. She caused it, it was completely her fault and now, no one was there to save her. Not the big businessmen she was always meeting with or her colleagues that were always taunting her about her tailor boyfriend.
“Now you are useless to me and you can die for all I care.” He told her once he was done. He began to adjust his trousers and walking out of the house almost immediately. She could almost hear him running.
Mary groaned in pain. Her legs hurt. She couldn’t get up to pick her phone. The pain that ravaged all her body kept sending signals to her brain. Joshua couldn’t drive, it was the same with her friend Helen. Who was she going to call?
She dragged her badly beaten body close to her handbag and brought out her phone, her hand quizzed about until she found her cell phone. She struggled to picked the phone. Her nose bled as much as her stomach did. She couldn’t believe he had stabbed her just to have his way. And she couldn’t believe he actually did have his way. She kept panting and crying as she dialed the only person she should have trusted; Andrew. She knew at that point that even the devil was interested in her death.
“Mary, you are not dying now. Mary, you are not dying now.” She kept telling herself
“Oh God please, give me this second chance. Please, give me this second chance and I promise not to be an idiot anymore, I promise.” She cried out holding the knife to her stomach. She knew removing it was going to be a colossal mistake, so she steadied it with her hand not moving it.
“Mark, Mark,” she began to call like he was God. She picked the phone up and dialed the man’s number. He picked without wasting time.
“Hello, please, Mark help me. If you are not here in a few minutes, I will die”
“Mary?” He questioned. It sounded like the man did not have her number anymore.
“Yes.” She spoke faintly, the sight of her own blood nauseated her.
“Where are you?” He asked her.
“Number 4 John Bosko Estate, Ikeja.” She told him. “Come straight in I beg you.” She said and let the phone fall off her hand.
She didn’t know if this what people meant when they talked about fainting, but she felt very dizzy. Uneasily and tiredly dizzy. She closed her eyes slowly and in what she thought was a deep sleep.
Mark drove into the Estate in confusion. He looked around again and again, fixing his large eye balls on the numbers on the numbers in the wall, most of which had faded out. What he saw at the entrance was ‘house 200’. He knew at once that he was in die big trouble. Two hundred! What?! That meant looking for the forth house that was going to be like one hundred and six houses away.
Mark sighed and sped until he saw house five and then, there it was, the forth one. He stopped and ran to the door of the house. The door was flung open. He entered through a passage and then the next sight that met him made him hazy. He stopped, covered his mouth with his hand.
“Mary!” He called. He knew he didn’t have the luxury of time so rather than stand there in bewilderment, he bent over and scooped her into his arms and put her in his car. He came back for her handbag that was on the chair ran back to his cat and drove off like he was a competitor in a car race.
Copyright Damilola Babs, 2022
No part of this book shall be plagiarized except if authorized by the author.
