“Enough is enough!”

Jide thought as he trekked home. For years, all he ever had was torture, pain, violence and abuse. There was no one to love him; no one to care and comfort him. His mother had decided that he was not worth her time, so she left him with an aunt while she left to only-God-knows where. He sighed as he neared the hell he called home. He dreaded the kind of punishments that awaits him as soon as he got home.

His aunt was not right in the head; she had formed a habit of abusing him ever since he knew his right from left. She used him for every type of her sickening pleasures: from hitting to beating to starving and then recently rape. She told him she loved the way he begs for mercy each time she drew closer to him; as a result, she made it a point of duty to always hear his plead for mercy.

Jide wiped the tears flowing down his face, he was trying to control the vomit threatening to leave his stomach. He was so disgusted with himself that he could no longer look at his face in the mirror. He decided again that he would not allow his aunt batter him anymore. His thoughts were cut short by his aunt’s high-pitched voice.

“Jide!  What took you so long to get home? Do you expect my food to prepare itself? You stupid, good for nothing idiot! You are an imbecile, just like your whore mother.”

She slapped him over and over again. Suddenly, he couldn’t take it anymore. He hissed, “Stop it!”

Her hands froze midway, “Repeat that.”

He amplified his timid voice, “I said stop it! Enough! Stop hitting me, I am not your slave.”

She scoffed. “Wow, our little Jide is all grown up now. You have the audacity to talk back at me? I must teach you a lesson.”

She went to get her favorite playthings: her whip and hot fresh grinded pepper. Jide stood his ground; his decision not wavering once. Suddenly, he felt the all too familiar pain at his back, his aunt’s whip. He turned back angrily and struggled with her for the whip, he pushed her forcefully off and tried to calm his fast beating heart. A small whimper and cry for help made him look up; he screamed in horror as he watched the scene in front of him. Behold, his aunt laid flat in a pool of her own blood; neck broken and gasping wildly. Then she gave up the ghost, right in front of him with hatred and loathing evident in her eyes.

He sat down for so long – he couldn’t count the hours anymore – looking at the dead body and crying profusely. He was free but he felt battered and broken; empty and void of life. He heard footsteps in the distance and looked up to see a woman and few police officers coming towards him. He smiled bitterly.

“Are you here to arrest me? It’s okay. I killed her and I am not sorry, even though it’s a mistake.”

The woman rushed to his side and held his hands.

“Oh! Poor boy. Don’t worry we are not here to arrest you. We know all about you, your neighbour has been aware of what had been happening to you and he contacted us. We wanted to approach you cautiously but your neighbour called immediately to inform us of what happened today so here we are. The officers will clean up the mess, but you would have to come with me. A new life awaits you. Jide sighed and followed the kind woman. Who knows, redemption might be his after all?

THE END!!!

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