“Written in November, 2017”
Elizabeth hated coming to school, especially on Mondays. Most days, she would come in, but head straight to the library and stay there till the close of school work. The library was her escape from life. The books she read were the only things strong enough to distract her from her reality. The fact that her life was simply a shadow of Mary’s, her sister. Today, however, was different. She had to be visible in school. She was to give a class presentation, and she would have dodged this as usual, but she had been assigned the group leader, and she had no choice. Even though she always skipped classes to read novels and studied only during the school examination period, she was the best in her class. Academically, that is.
Mountain Hill Secondary School was not the kind of school where intellectual prowess was relevant. The High class students were measured by their beauty, their fashion sense, and the parties they hosted, but mostly by their relationship status. Mary was a light skinned, slender, well – shaped beauty. She had long, black, and full hair that framed her face, highlighting her cheekbones. Her look made her the queen of the school. She was everybody’s friend or everybody claimed to be acquainted with her. At school breaks, every popular kid table offered her a seat. Every popular Stud wanted to buy her soft drink, take her on a stroll, or talk to her. Mary was smart and always knew her way around them.
Elizabeth wanted to make the group presentation and disappear to the library without being seen, but Mary stopped her.
“Lizzy Wait Up,” Mary called out. Elizabeth did not have to turn to confirm it was her sister. She knew her sister like she knew her own self. If not more, they were twins after all. Elizabeth swung herself around and halted firmly with one leg ahead of the other and an eye brow raised, an exerggerated attempt at non – chalance. Mary looked frightened. Mary was sensitive overly and would not bother to hide it, so she talked fast.
“Daddy said he’s coming to pick us himself today, at exactly 4pm, you know how he’s always punctual, so you have to leave the library in time today” Mary said almost in one breath.
“He called you,” Elizabeth replied, more as a statement than a question.
“Yes,” Mary replied, and Elizabeth thought she saw a small blush on Mary’s cheek before she turned. Elizabeth left the library at 4 :30pm, the school compound was almost empty. At 4: 30 pm, fines will be paid by parents whose kids were still in the school compound. She knew her face was blank as she walked to the car, and she made it so. Her dad’s face was as straight as hers, and he knew she intentionally delayed to get on his nerves perhaps.
“I told Mary to tell you I’ll be coming at exactly 4 pm, Eli.” He talked slowly and carefully, as if holding down anger. She wanted to tell him not to call her Eli, the way she felt every time he called her that. The way she had felt for the last seven years. She wanted to tell him he lost that right seven years ago. Instead, she said
“The book was intoxicating” with a fling of the car’s door, leaving him staring at the rear view mirror, with his elbow placed on the car door. She took her place in the back seat where she belonged. Mary sat in the passenger seat, and they would chat all the way home. Mary would talk about how many boys wanted to “have a conversation with her,” her hands drawing inverted comas as she said so and everything that happened in school. The students in love and the ones who just broke off their romantic relationship. The students she liked, she ones she did not like. And she would tell him how she told every boy in school she was in a relationship with ‘someone’ who did not attend their school and that was him of course. Mr Franklin and Mary were particularly in a relationship in every sense of the word relationship. Mary adored him, and he did her too. She told him everything that happened in her life. She was with him in his room most evenings, or if they were having a family time, she would rest on his bosom. Sometimes, during family devotion, their mother will have to pause and say, “Mary, leave your daddy alone and listen,” but Mary never listened.
Elizabeth plugged in her earphones and closed ger eyes, listening to her favourite song at volume 15 and pretending to be lost in it. The drive home seemed shorter than usual. She jumped down from the car and headed straight to her room where she would be till the morrow.
***
Franklin was exhausted. He had a busy day, and all he wanted was to see his daughters warm his heart. When he saw only Mary waiving at him, his heart broke. He loved both daughters and always wanted both of them to love on them, but only one wanted him.
“Welcome,” Angel, his wife, greeted him as he stepped into the sitting room, “You look tired,” she added. They had been married for nineteen years but she still looked like a newly wed bride in her shorts and favourite shirt with the caption “I Choose Love”
“I’m more emotionally tired than physically tired” he replied with helplessness, and knowing both girls were out of sight he added “she hates me more everyday, baby, I don’t know what I did?” .
Angel gave him a knowing look. She knew Elizabeth shut everyone out, but she was hostile to the Father. It was not something she could be punished for, and she never got in trouble.
“Relax, babe, you know it was not always like this,” Angel said.
“You know I was just thinking the same thing. What happened? Where did my baby go? I miss her. ”
Angel’s heart broke. Her husband’s face showed despair. He was confused and desperate. Angel had tried talking to Elizabeth, but all she got was a blank. Stare, Elizabeth stared at her like she was mad and imagining things. And for some minutes, Angel blamed it on the books Elizabeth read. She looked at her husband, who was seated now, and she walked over to sit by his side.
“Or should we take her to a powerful man of God, maybe she needs deliverance,” she said with suppressed laughter. They both laughed.
“Maybe I should talk to her,” he replied dryly.
“Maybe,” Angel said doubtfully.
Angel knew of his many failed attempts, but she would encourage him nonetheless. She knew of their love story and was convinced it could be revived. After all, she had been the one to place her in his arms after she had a set of twins. The moment she placed Elizabeth in his arms, she knew she would never be able to untangle her from him. Elizabeth allowed no one to hold her except daddy. Franklin would joke about falling in love with her the moment he saw her eyes, eyes that shone so brightly at him admiring him as God. Eyes that reminded him of himself. He stayed home most of the time for her and because of her. She cried whenever she she saw him leave for work. He was hers alone as she always refused to share him. Her jealousy and love for him amused him, but he loved it because he loved her. When both girls turned ten, Angel insisted on him getting close to Mary as well. She wanted to be closer to Elizabeth, who hardly maintained a conversation with her, and Angel feared she couldn’t get around that if they spent the day as a family. On that day, Franklin went out with Mary while Elizabeth stayed home with Angel. Elizabeth was furious. She wept and slept and wouldn’t talk to Angel. He would say Elizabeth’s hatred for him started that day. He had a great time with Mary, she was easy to please and after that day, he became entrancing to her. Mary would invite herself to his private time with Elizabeth, and even though he did not mind, Elizabeth did. The next three years were rivalry, competition, jealousy fits, and tears for both sisters. It grew worse when Mary’s features started to take shape, and she looked more like Franklin while Elizabeth looked more like Angel. When both girls turned 13, Elizabeth kept her distance from him, and she avoided him. When he missed her and sneaked into her room in the night to spend time with her, because he favoured her, she never responded. When he kissed her on her cheeks because he thought she was sleeping, she would turn disgusted. He missed her. He wanted to have his intelligent conversations with her. Elizabeth was a voracious reader and knew something about everything. Mary was different. She preferred to talk about her feelings. In reality, Mary was closer to Angel. She told her things she would not tell him, and he liked that. She was the typical teenage girl who needed a mum for a best friend. He worried for Elizabeth because she had no one to talk to. She brought no friends home and threw herself into her books like nothing else mattered. Sometimes, he felt a strong urge to go into her room and destroy all the books he could find.
The next day, while the girls were in school, he went into Elizabeth’s book. Her room was not painted bright pink like Mary’s. Her’s was painted blue with only a wardrobe, a book shelf, and a reading table filled with books. He sat at the edge of her neatly made bed and searched the room with his eyes. He had only opened the big Bible on her bed, which was as good as new, indicative of the fact that she never read it when a picture fell out. It was a picture of a boy in a school uniform. He felt a rise in his emotions. That evening, he gave her a good scolding about the picture. She simply smiled and said nothing. He mused about her strangeness. Her reactions were always the opposite to what he expected. He felt guilty, and when everyone was asleep, he approached her room. He felt fear like he never had, then he felt shame for feeling afraid of his daughter. He opened the room door quietly and switched on the light, but she was not in the room. His heart missed a few beats before he hurriedly walked to the sitting room. He did not need to enter the sitting room to know his daughter was lying on his favourite couch crying. He heard her quiet sobs. He had not in years seen her cry.
“Baby, why are you still up?” he whispered, careful not to wake the other members of his family, careful not to lose her. She turned swiftly and hastily gathered herself to leave, but he held her, grabbed her more like, held out firmly, and wouldn’t let her walk past him. She wrestled and clawed and flung fists at him, but he was ready to endure all to get her back. She wrestled away from him and reclined on the couch. He sat by her. She turned her face adamantly from him and would not even look at him.
“Eli, why? Why do you hate me so much?” He thought he saw a tear slide down her cheek as she returned his question with a question.
“Why do you hate me?” She asked him. He was not sure he heard correctly. She had to be joking, but she was not. She had broken down and was bailing her eyes out. He pulled her to himself. She struggled at first, but he guessed she was ‘taken’ weak to struggle any further as she allowed him to win. He drew her nearer and cuddled her. She wept so much that he feared she would never stop. He wondered how someone had so many tears inside. He felt his own eyes watery with tears. His heart broke with each sound she made. Sounds accompanied with great and deep hurt. She had finished crying and was resting on his chest, in between his lap, cuddled and wrapped up, when she started talking.
She told him she had always wanted him to be there for her, but he was not. She told him she felt replaced by her sister and unloved by him. She told him how she developed a very low self-esteem and shielded her insecurities in her coldness. When she was an innocent thirteen year old girl. Her uncle raped her. Angel had stepped out to buy something. Franklin had been out with Mary after they had gotten into an argument over him. He had taken Mary’s side. That was what it seemed to her at the time. He had punished her, as it seemed to her, by refusing to take her alone. She insisted she would not go if Mary was in attendance. He decided to leave with Mary. She had always held her uncle Lucier .M. , a distant relative who had been a recipient of her father’s benevolence, in high esteem until that attack. He raped her five more times after that. Franklin thought he would go mad knowing the horror she experienced. He cried then, imagining the pain she must have felt. Imagining how alone she must have felt.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”was all he heard himself ask.
To his surprise, she responded amidst bitter tears.
“I tried to, but you were always too busy bonding with Mary. I had threatened him, and I’m told him I would tell you. I couldn’t. Mary never allowed me to have the opportunity to talk to you alone. She thought ut was just petty attention seeking. After that day, he mocked me, and he told me he knew I would never have the courage to tell you. He said even if I could, you would not care because you did not love me. You loved only Mary. He said I was worthless and no one loved me. He said no one cared about me. ”
She was resentful and bitter when she spoke. He was momentarily choked by rage, but he looked at her and was consumed instantly with a feeling of longing to shield her, so deep it tore at him. He felt jealous and protective. He felt a mother bear. The look on her face took centre stage in his heart, and he held her close again, allowing her to find solace in his arms. He felt so much pain that he did not believe that had been his daughter’s experience.
“Eli,” he managed to say.
But she cried out, asking him to stop, asking him not to call her that since he forsook her when she needed him the most. He wept still because that was all he could do. She begged him not to tell anyone. He could not promise that, but she insisted. He complied, on agreement that she would open up when she was ready.
***
It is Monday, the 26th of February, Elizabeth is lying in Franklin’s arm, telling him something no other person can hear. They had grown really close after that night. He had taken it upon himself to be The healer, The Father, The Favourite God – Head.
Deuteronomy 31 vs 8, “the Lord Himself goes before you and He will be with you and He will never leave you nor forsake you”
Jeremiah 31 vs 3, “…..with unfailing love,I have drawn you to myself”
Hosea 11 vs 8, “Oh how can I give up on you, my Ephraim, How can I let you go? How can I forsake you like Admah and Zeboiim. My heart cries out within me, how I long to help you….”
John 10 vs 10, “The thief cometh not but to steal, to kill and destroy….”
The End.
