Chronicles Of A Runs Girl - S01 E49

2 years ago

Chronicles Of A Runs Girl - S01 E49

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODES 49

Strong medicine

Uncle China was waiting for me on the edge of his big bed. In my mind I walked up to him, stood in front of him and let him grab my bum in both his arms and s--k my boobs through my Boubou. But in real life I stood at the door, looked at him waiting to devour me and I burst into tears.

“Amaka? Kilode?” He said.

He was on his feet in an instant and by my side in another instant. He led my back to his bed and made me sit next to him on the edge.

“Kilode? What is wrong? Talk to me.”

I just kept crying. When I came out and looked at him, and saw his deep tribal marks, and his shiny contoured bald head, and his protruding belly, I knew I couldn’t sleep with him no matter what, so I changed my strategy.

The ability to cry on demand is probably one of a girl’s best tricks; that, and the ability to fake an o----m. This man who a minute ago had been stroking his ageing c--k in anticipation of f-----g me was now thoroughly deflated both in intent and physically. He was tending to my distress to the detriment of his plan and I was not going to stop until he had sobered up enough to want me to just go home – for today at least.

He asked what was wrong and I poured out my heart, and a few lies. About my kidnapped friend, he knew, but he didn’t know that Johnny was also like the only brother I ever had and that I blamed myself for what happened to him that night. He also learnt from me that ‘we’ were trying to raise the ransom money. He asked me how much and I told him ten million – a sum I felt he would feel comfortable contributing ten percent of, or thereabouts.

I left out stories of the poor mother or the ailing father; he had probably heard those too often. I didn’t know how to bring up the London boy, or if I should, so I pulled out the joker that was sure to make him place me way outside his desires and at the same time earn me all the pity he could have for a girl he really didn’t know. I told him how the policeman raped me repeatedly at the police station.

He listened quietly then when I was done he calmly asked me, “Have you seen a doctor?”

I told him I went to a clinic to get my face looked after but that wasn’t what he meant.

“You have to check yourself,” he said.

He got up and walked into his bathroom leaving me to deal with the gravity of my situation. I hadn’t thought of that. What was wrong with me? I started crying again, this time for real.

He returned with some pills that he gave to me. He explained to me that he buys them from an Indian doctor and that they will ‘wash’ anything out of me, but I must see a doctor and get a check-up, he stressed.

I didn’t have to worry about sleeping with him now – or anyone he knew.

He got bottled water from his mini-fridge and gave it to me. I knew better than to believe there was any medicine one could take to protect against HIV after being exposed to it, but I took the medicine he gave me all the same.

“My sister did not tell me you were raped.” He said.

I still didn’t get why he referred to Mama as his sister.