Quiet

I’d never been so quiet, and terrified around Chinwe, I’d never felt such desperation.

"Would you like for me to walk you to your door, or would you like for me to leave you at your gate."

To that, I didn’t give a response, and she didn’t ask again. At the gate of my home, she looked down at me, then said,

“ I’ve pushed him far back. You won’t dream of him tonight. So, sleep. We’ll talk when we can.”

Then, she watched me walk into my home.

Inside, I felt a bit secure, for the first time, the crucifixes hung on every wall gave me comfort, the altar mounted just within view of the entrance seemed to encompass me in a divine light which remained invisible to me. And while I reveled in the warmth which I supposed existed, I forgot all things. The floors beneath my feet, the candle which burnt in a corner of the room, and the short breaths which were evident when I’d walked in.

“What did you do?”

Whispered, yet tangible enough to break my reverie. Then, I saw him, my father, nnanyi, sat at a corner, head bowed, breathing so so fast.

“WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE.”

He wasn’t loud, didn’t go above the agreed range, but, it might as well had been, for I felt the anger, the hate, the disgust, and the absolute rage which engulfed him. I’d never felt those from him, never felt so much hate from him. Then, he burst into a crazed laughter, an almost quiet laughter which seemed infinitely loud to me at that moment. “You’ve done it, haven’t you. You’ve opened the door.” At that, he rose from his seat, and within seconds, was out of sight.