Bad Girls Don’t Love
AARON ANSAH-AGYEMAN
BAD GIRLS DON’T LOVE
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It was not that Elaine did not trust Rashid completely.
Deep down, she did not think he was callous enough to intentionally kill her mother. She could even accept the fact that he could be her mother’s last help, and probably the only doctor to save her mother.
But there was more than a sixty percent chance that her mother would not survive the surgery, she knew. So, to her, a neutral doctor should perform the surgery because if Rashid did, and her mother died, the problem would rear up badly and crucify her for life!
The problem was complex, and multi-faceted.
And she would not survive the guilt simply because she had done something bad to Rashid, and her mind would only accept one explanation: it was her evil deed towards Rashid which resulted in the death of her mother!
You bad, bad, bad, whore, Ama Boateng, you slut! Your evil has killed your mother too!
All her life she had struggled with the guilt of what her father had done to her, and what had happened that cold, rainy day when she was just thirteen years! An abusive father who was as cruel as he was violent!
That night, when he came to her room again, for the umpteenth time, Elaine could no longer take it!
She had struggled violently, and the man had struck her!
And, for the first time, her mother had summoned the courage to barge into the room… to meet a barrage of blows and kicks from a violent, drunken father!
Daddy, stop it! You will kill mom! You will kill my mom!
It is your fault, you whore, you harlot! If you had not struggled, your mother wouldn’t be here!
A kick!
A slap!
Blows, blows!
Her mother screaming in agony!
Elaine had rushed from the room, half-naked, screaming for help, and crashed the door open!
And he came after her, with only a piece of cloth around his waist… a huge hulking brute of a man, filled with lust, his massive erection poking out the cloth and distending it like a sick trophy!
It was dark, and the rain was coming in hard and fast!
The ground was muddy, slippery! She looked behind, and he seemed like a monster as he grinned and leered at her through the rain!
Baby! Come for it, Baby! You know you like Daddy’s sausage! Come and take the sausage, Baby!
No, no, no, daddy, no, you hurt me! You hurt me bad! I hate you, daddy! I hate you so much! And I wish you will die!
I’m not dead yet, Baby! Come for some sausage! You love daddy’s sausage, don’t you, you bad, bad, bad girl!
Leave me alone, daddy, you monster! Leave me alone!
The nearest house was a bit far, far, far… because they were poor, they had to make a mud house outside the main cluster of houses, like other poor people! No electricity, a hustle each day, relying on proceeds from mom’s waakye business!
Suddenly she slipped in the wet mud and went crashing down! She screamed with horror as that loathsome beast grinned and came down at her!
In the moonlight, as the rain poured hard, his hands ripped the rest of her clothes away, pawing at her tender breasts, mauling them!
Screams, screams, her own ear-splitting screams!
Stop it, daddy! You’re hurting me, you’re killing me, don’t do this!
Shut up, you whore, you bitch, you will let someone hear you, whore! Shut up and take daddy’s sweet sausage!
Blows on her face, stunning her, breaking her skin, her mouth, blood pouring out of her nose, mouth, ears!
His huge dong resting on her small stomach, his thighs prying her legs apart, now he was putting it at the entrance… she was still so dry, so small, so tight, so much in agony!
It was killing her!
Her hands were roving the ground, her right hand touched something hard, something stiff, something metal! She drove it up, savagely… straight into him!
His gasp of shock and pain, his hold relaxed, she shoved him aside, scrambled on her hands and knees, weeping pathetically!
He was on the ground, grabbing the metal with shock, she got up, fled, weeping, screaming, back to her mother!
They held each other, huddled, together, weeping with fear, dreading his heavy footsteps coming back…
But they waited, waited, waited and he never showed up!
There were morning screams, people weeping with shock!
The news was bleak!
Agya Atteh was found dead in the mud after the rains with a long, heavy, metal stake in his heart!
She had killed her father!
But her mother came in!
No, no, my baby, you were defending yourself, and God punished him for his evil! We would not say anything, do you hear me? If you confess, they will take you away and imprison you, and I will die! I’m so sorry, baby, but we have to keep quiet and just say he did not show up last night. Everybody knows he was always drunk, always violent, always fighting! It would be blamed on a fight with someone!
So, they kept quiet, and peace reigned, harmony came, no more rape and no more assaults on them!
But her mother did not know that the real damage was in the head of the little girl who had been assaulted since she turned eleven! She was psychologically damaged, seeing herself as a monster who had killed her own father because she was a bad, bad, bad girl, a whore who disliked her father’s sausage and so murdered him!
All her life she had not seen herself worthy of anything good! She had just seen herself as a whore and a murderer who should be punished, but who was walking free! She had hated men! Hated them to the core, and used them coldly to attain a better life for herself and her mother! She had never enjoyed a second of her sexual escapades with any man!
Until a strange, cold man called Rashid Braimah had exploded into her life, and caused a major upset in her set principles and outlook!
So, here she was! Her mind, which should have been set right with counselling after the traumatic and fractious experiences she had had with parental abuse, torture, rape, assault and death, had been allowed to roam on its own, and sought to sort out life in phases in order to survive!
And so, if she allowed Rashid to operate on her mother, and she died, her mind would only accept one logical conclusion, always delivered in that mocking voice of her father:
You bad, bad, bad, girl, you slut! Yes, you rejected your daddy’s sausage and took on that man’s, and now you’ve killed your mother too, just like you killed me! You’re guilty, Ama Boateng, guilty, guilty, guilty, and a killer, killer, killer! You killed your parents, you bad, bad, bad, whore!
Elaine Boateng, in the washroom of her allotted house at the health centre, clamped her hands to her ears tightly and fell to her knees with her face pressed into the wall, weeping pathetically and trembling with terror.
“No, no, no! I can’t kill my mother! Rashid must not touch her! Oh, God, God, please help me, help me God, help me God!”
Bad, bad, bad, whore, bad girl! You rejected my sausage and now killed your mother too! Guilty, guilty, guilty! You killer! Bad, bad, bad whore, Ama Boateng!
Elaine punished her ears, grinding her hands so tightly against them as she tried to drown out that voice of her father!
She wept!
Then she moaned and crawled towards the door!
Bad, bad, bad, girl!
Whore, slut!
Killer!
When it happened this way, only one thing helped to restore her sanity!
She rummaged in her bag, located a phial of sleeping pills, popped three into her mouth, and waited for their sedative effects!
A minute later, she was asleep on the floor!
When she woke up after eight hours, it was in the evening, and her mother had been in surgery with Rashid for eight hours!
Elaine Boateng had no choice; she went straight to the police station!
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