The Cinderella Story 2

THE CINDERELLA STORY 2
Written by: Johnbest Obialo (Desert writer)
Genre: fiction.
Disclaimer: Every word, name, place, and anything seen, read or heard on this story are all fictitious, merely from the writer's imagination. It holds no relevant connection to anywhere, anyplace, anything, living or dead. This work is not to be published, rewritten, or edited in any manner/form, without the knowledge of the writer.
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Cindy stayed in a coma for three months. How she survived the crash was a testimony. She woke up with the doctors diagnosing she had amnesia, a brain issue in which one forgets a part or whole of their memories. In any case, a bitter one. A part of her memory was disjointed; the part where she was supposed to remember the gruesome death of her parents but luckily she didn't, she didn't even remember her own name. For some reason she can't tell, she had wished she died; to her living held no meaning. Her Auntie, Ezinne who had been with her from day 1 did the basics of telling her name and showing some familiar pictures to her, the doctor said it would help to hasten her brain recovery.. but on hearing she'd be staying with her aunt Ezinne, there was a revamp of life in her. and on discharge, she was made to stay with her distant aunt in Lagos.
One month after her discharge, life in Lagos wasn't like the one she had while at her parents. An Aunt is an aunt and one's parents are one's parents. There is a distinct line between the two and aunt would never treat you like your parents will. Also, there would never be a place like home, if she only remembered what home looked like.

Aunt Ezinne had a son, Emeka. She parted ways with her husband, and the court gave her the right to keep their child. Emeka was only eighteen and in senior secondary school. For an eighteen-year-old, he was wayward and the entire opposite of his mum. He kept a tattered hair and would flag his trousers down below his butt cheek that one would call him a tout at first glance. He lacked a father figure in his life, so he led a self-pleasing life.
Emeka returned from school as usual. He does not stay until the closing of his school at 3 pm. Once it was past 1 pm, after the break period, he would rush home knowing his mother must be in the market at that time.

When he got home, he rushed into Cindy's room, he saw a girl fast asleep snoring her way down to celestial realm. Cindy was having a siesta as advised by the doctor to help her brain relax, and because there was no one else around, she laid half-naked on the bed; a mini white gown just above her knee cap revealing the innocence of childhood, a perfectly fair skin underneath that gown kissed the air in the room, unobstructed. "Cindy, Cindy.." Emeka called with Faint voice. "where did mommy go?" he asked, but Cindy didn't even give the slightest hint to show she heard him. "This one don sleep deep," he thought to himself and turned to leave. Inches close to the door, he stopped, turned back to face Cindy, and then he noticed how beautifully created she was, he carefully articulated the sight he was beholding, it was so ethereal it made his jaw drop.

He walked back to the bedside, stood for minutes carefully observing Cindy sleep, running his eyes in pendulum down Cindy's legs, and back to her goddess's face, a grin lit his face. He pressed his head down in such manner his face and Cindy's was parallel, he implanted a soft light kiss to her lips, his cousin's lip. He brought head up, looked at Cindy, she was still asleep. He opted again to kiss her again, but this time harder, and longer than the first. Like a fly does on feces, he pounced on eight-year-old lips, it was so ferocious it woke Cindy up - to shock and surprise.

"Emeka. What are you doing?" Cindy rose up maneuvering her way out from Emeka's clutch.
"Cindy, wait, it will only take a minute."
"To do what?"
"I better not explain." Climbing up the bed, he grasps Cindy so hard pushing her down to lay on the bed, below him. Cindy fought and wrestled, shouting, but there was no way she could have suppressed an eighteen-year-old. Maybe if she knew what wanted to be done to her, she could have fought more fiercely but, what does an eight-year-old know!

It was fast, five minutes later, Emeka was laying on the side of the bed panting profusely. Cindy was sitting up crying, with blood dripping between her laps. "What have you done to me?" she muttered just enough strength to ask.
"Why does it hurt so much down here" She sobbed, pointing down to her thighs. "It's nothing serious, get used to it. From now on, we'll become playmates." Emeka said with a smile.
"It pains like hell," Cindy cried.
"Go take a bath, do anything to make it stop," Emeka assured her.
"Anything?"
"Yes, anything."
Cindy stood up, rushed to the kitchen, picked up a knife from the dish tray, and stared vehemently at it.
"Anything… Emeka said anything," she soliloquized. Without a thought of what would happen when the knife goes through her heart, she stabbed herself so deep in the chest. It was as she had wanted, perfect. The pain between her laps stopped in an instant, her brain was light as she saw life sped past her eyes in quick succession. Tears ran down her cheek, a smile lit her face. "mum.. I'm… CoMING." she barely muttered as darkness veiled her eyes. It was swift, death was fast and easy.

P.S
Back in the market, Aunty Ezinne's phone beeped; It was a message from the doctor. It read:

Dear Ma'am,
Having received results of the last brain scan done on your niece, Cindy, age: eight. It is with the deepest sympathy I'm informing you the scan came back positive for another brain issue. Your niece has a level 3 madness. With every certainty, I now tell you. She is diagnosed with amnesia and madness.
Please watch her actions, closely.

WRITER'S REMARK: Every child has a right to safety, to well being, and to peace of mind. Say no to child abuse, say no to rape, say no to domestic violence. Most of these children have already been through a lot. Support and care for them in any way necessary.

All rights reserved ©2020, fiction. Dedicated to every abused child. In respect to 27th may
Johnbest Obialo (Desert Writer)