Chapter 6 A 'TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE' NEWS

"Will you just get out of our way? We did not come here for a stare challenge, Ayana!” My mother speaks after a long decade of pure lull.

Of course, my father could not speak because it seemed like he was about to slap me out of their way. His gaze is still the same as that day he made me make a choice. Raw hate. Disgust. Let down. They speak of volumes of the anger he feels towards me up until now. And I don’t think anything will ever bridge the rift that my mistake has created.

It hurts so much. Not because I made that mistake. I am neither justifying my naivety nor my stupidity, failing to read between the lines of love and lust. I am just saying that they are being dramatically unreasonable. Their hate for me for that one mistake is beyond bonds, and I don’t get it. It wasn’t that grave, hello? I wasn’t the first one to mess up like that.

I shift to my mother, and this one is the worst of all. I have not been able to understand how she can sleep peacefully all night long, knowing what her own daughter is going through and what I and my child are being deprived of. She is a mother, for crying out loud! For that reason alone, she could have at least tried intervening on my behalf. But no. She watched a fellow mother in the making go through all this, and she has no remorse whatsoever!

“Young woman! I don’t have all day here. We need to talk.” My father releases his gravely despotic tone, sending a shiver down my spine, but I get a grip on my guards before they crumble.

I lock eyes with him. There is no warmth in our gazes, just like there is no warmth in our surroundings. He is all cold, demeaning, and disgusted, and I am all displeased and rebellious against all the fear he is shedding on me. “The cage is not for deities like you people. What brings you here?” I query.

My father cocks his head to the side, his expression becoming darker. His eyes are an inferno, warning me. Daring me. “This cage is still my property, Ayana. You should know your place and show some respect.” He warns me, nudging me to the side as he forces his way inside, his wife following suit.

I shut my eyes to the pain. I am nothing but a poor soul. I have nothing in this world. I am nothing at all, and they grab every chance they get to slap me in the face.

I stroll inside and shut the door behind me.

Their eyes are everywhere on my paintings, cruising around them from one corner of my small painting area to the last one as if they appreciate my work. Finally, they turn to me after being satisfied with scanning my paintings, and as if driven by some spirit, their eyes just brush past me as they settle on my daughter, who is fast asleep.

A fleeting moment passes, and all they do is just stare at the poor kid. As if they have the right to even cast a glance at her. And knowing them, I must say that I don’t appreciate or like their weird visit here. The way they are staring at my child is unnerving too, or it is just me and my paranoia. Whichever the case, I am not liking this.

“Can someone please explain to me what I owe for this sudden visit?” My cold words cut through the silence, summoning their attention to me.

My father clears his throat and speaks. “What would you give to give this bastard child a life because, clearly, she is nothing but..."

“Watch it, Mr. De’Mario!” I cut him, our eyes locking with assonant anger. “Watch what you say about my child! Don’t you dare insult her or say anything bad about her.” I warn, and I mean it. My child does not deserve this crap! The insults, the mistreatments—nothing of the sort that she deserves.

“How much can you sacrifice to give her a life?” He asks so flatly, but his words cut deeper than a sword, arousing all my senses.

How much can I sacrifice? What can’t I sacrifice? I would give anything, even my soul, to give my child a life.

But, wait. This coming from them is more perplexing than giving hope. Where is it even coming from? What other absurd offers have they come up with this time around, huh? I hope they are not here to tell me to give her up for adoption or take her to an orphanage. I know how wicked they can be, and they better not try me today.

“A loving and responsible parent would give their all to see their children happy. Too bad I wasn’t blessed with such parents.” I retort boldly.

“The fact that we are still keeping you here should tell you that we deserve some respect, young lady! You would be in the streets if otherwise!” Mother fumes, earning a stare from me.

Yeah, right! And, Wow! “Should I clap for you, mother? I should be glad for this.

“Enough!” My father fumes under his breath. “We have no time for debates. This was your choice, Ayana! Blame yourself for this, and...

“I have no time for lectures too, Father!” I cut him off, and he leans back in disbelief. Who told them that I needed to remember that this was my punishment for doing wrong? Who even told them that I had forgotten why I am living like this? “Look! I answered the question, so cut to the chase. What is all this about? And if it is about me giving my child to some other fucking human being, forget it! That will never happen as long as I am still breathing." I make my stand.

Father shifts a little, speaking again. “We will let you keep the child. Give her your name or the family name. Take her to school and let her live like a normal kid. She will have freedom and everything, even much more than what she has been deprived of all these years.”

Silence!

No, did he actually say that?