"Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)[a] is a mental and behavioral disorder[7] that develops from experiencing a traumatic event, such as sexual assault, warfare, traffic collisions, child abuse, domestic violence, or other threats on a person's life or well-being.[1][8]" ___ WIKIPEDIA

Chikamharida's POV.

For a second everything appeared opaque—the vein underneath his skin to the sound of our beating hearts and the rush of blood through our arteries. However, none of them were able to beat our situation- my allegation, because from the scrunch of Henry's eyebrow and his scoff, he was making it out to be just that, an allegation.

It started with his body going taut, then a shake of his head, a searing look filled with disbelief aimed at me, then a scoff and another look, this time searching.

You could feel the humor meter dropping in value.

"What?" he asked. "Are you serious Harida? You think I'd bring you all the way from Nigeria to come murder you here. Please, stop joking."

"I'm saying the truth Henry. What other way could you have convinced me to leave the nanny job if not bullying? You are the one who brought me here, so you're the only one who knows most of my info. Can you belief she also mentioned my accepting the nanny job?"

"Who's this person Harida?" he asked. His voice was so calm, a precipe to unleash deeper and more threatening emotions.

"Maley-"

The sound of skin on skin was so audible; he had his palm to his forehead as he struggled to control his breathing. "I should have known," he muttered. His frustration as evident as a turbulent wind.

"You know what," he said, after a minute of staring out the window, "we're leaving right now. Get dressed."

"Why? Where are we going? What's happening?"

"Nevermind," Henry said, probably having thought of how the elephants would have been birthed a triplet by the time I'd gotten dressed. "We'll go like this."

"Where are you taking me?" I asked as he pulled at my arm.

"To the hospital Harida. That's where injured people go. I'll carry you if you can't walk."

*****

"Just a few broken ribs, a dislocated nose and ankle. The first aid was quite effective in disinfecting her injury and stopping excess blood loss. No internal organ was pierced, luckily. A week should be enough for her recovery."

After a beat of silence.

"Alright. Thank you doctor," Henry said, and I heard the doctor's receding footstep as he left and the door shut behind him.

I wasn't dead.

I could hear the sound of the monitor chirping, and the soft whoosh of the white linen curtain by the window. My olfactory lobe was also working perfectly; the scent of disinfectant and chlorine permeated my senses.

Bright light; brighter than my destiny could ever be crashed with my eyes and bombed my retina. I had to shut my eyes before opening them again to wash away the haze.

"You're awake," Henry said, sparing me a glance and then returning his gaze to the television. I refused to speak. I still didn't trust him.

"You passed out when we arrived and you have been out for more than three hours."

I thought about the doctors note: few broken ribs, a dislocated nose and ankle; and a week on bed.

I still refused to say a thing.

"Are you still doubting me Harida? I swear on my mum's grave that I didn't bring you to Nigeria to kill you."

Still nothing.

"I'm calling the doctor. You've lost your memory," he said, walking out before I could stop him. Not that I would.

"Here she is," he said, walking in with a nurse.

The nurse walked to my bed with some weird instruments and flashed them in my eyes. "She's responding to light, her eyes are following my movement, sir. What exactly is your complaint?"

"She may be dumb?"

"From an assault, right? It is probably the shock of what happened or she may be tired." The nurse turned to me and waved before my eyes. "Please nod if you can see me."

I tried moving my head but my body was stiff. The nurse sighed and turned to Henry. "Please give her a while. We'd be back to check up on her but if you notice anything unusual, please ring the line beside the bed to get our attention," The nurse said just as a man in scrubs paused at the door.

"Anything wrong nurse?" the doctor from before asked.

"The patient is displaying post traumatic symptoms. I recommended a little rest for her brain to process the information."

"Okay then," the doctor said. "I'm off to see Nalia."

"Greet your little girl for me alright!"

"Will do."

*****

Thoughts are a dangerous thing but in my case, they were what kept me conscious, they kept me breathing and hoping for life despite how bad.

On the TV there's nothing new, just a movie of a family of three trying to survive the distrust that the recall of a secret child had brought.

I watched with interest how the man, out of anger that his wedded union was destroyed would beat his child for any reason despite how petty.

Somehow, the movie reminded me of a scene I'd been trying to forget. It has been four years but it appeared like it happened yesterday, under the duress of Maji's care and beside our house.

It all happened in our neighbours house. The one beside us with sickly bricks, unpainted and left to bare their ugliness to the whole world like their owner .

That day, like yesterday. I'd just come back from school to see Chellu in our room crying while my other junior ones were out with the neigbour's kids, playing. They usually arrived before me since I was on a four-month after school lesson for junior WAEC. Thinking she had a riff with one of my other siblings, I'd dropped my bag of six years hurriedly on the bed, and had gingerly touched her face with all the love a mother bestowed on a child.

"Who was it this time?" I had asked. "Ramanu? Garga?"

She shook her head, lips quivering and tears running like a chain reaction. "I-" she'd tried saying amid the tear coat on her face; she'd tried adjusting her bottom on the bed but had hissed in pain.

"I am- am feel-ing pains," she said.

"How?" I asked. "Did you play ball with the boys?"

She shook her head again.

"Ma- Manga he... He-"

At that point, I had a little bit of idea what she was talking about but I had to confirm it. "Where's it paining you?" I asked.

"In- inside my legs. He- he-"

"Stand let me see," I said and she stood with shaky legs turning slowly as if her head was spinning. If I hadn't been paying attention to the bruise on her hand, it was definitely obvious on the back of her gown. Dark red matted with the baby pink and white floral print.

"He raped you," I said. It was a statement and somehow my sister seemed to shiver.

I was in my uniform but I wasn't concerned. Mum had left to the market and dad had gone to work. I was the oldest of my siblings and it was up to me to take responsibility.

"Sit," I'd told her. "I'd take care of this." I watched her wince one more time as I left in my uniform. I could see my younger ones pausing the ball and staring warily at me as I crossed their make-do field. There was even some name calling but all fell to deaf ears. Within the blink of an eye, I was at his door. Stupid wooden door supported by unpainted brick walls.

I banged at it. "Open this door or I'll kill you Manga!" I said.

The door refused to open, so I looked around and after sighting and taking a big stone— the one my brothers and his friends were using as their goal stand, I stood by the window and attempted jumping but not before the shattering of glass and the splintering of wood echoed in the neighbourhood.

At that time, I'd already drawn enough attention so that Ramanu and Yedza were trying to stop me. "Gbuli what happened?" Ramanu, the older one of the triplets asked, calling my pet name.

"Did you see Chellu walk past here?" I asked.

"Yes, Manga sent her to buy groundnut for him."

"So you didn't notice her in pains?"

"No," he said, the soft rise of his brow exposing how oblivious he was to what had happened.

"Ramanu leave my hand," I said, twisting my hand out of his grasp. Before he could stop me, I raised the skirt of my uniform and jumped the window, bits of glass sticking into my skin.

"Who's there?" manga called out from inside. He was in a towel, obviously just back from his bath.

I didn't even bother greeting him. Lifting the heavy stone with both hand, I threw it at him. It landed on his shoulder and he cried out.

"Harida what is going on?"He asked. It was all pretense.

"You know why I am here," I said. "I refused you but you went after my younger sister. How dare you?"

"What did she tell you?"

"You raped her."

"I didnt-"

My mind wasn't even in our conversation. My rage meter was on an abnormally high level, enough to cancel every sound wave. On seeing a lonely plank behind his couch, I grabbed it and used it to whack him across the head, enough to get him unconscious as I continued pounding him across the face, oblivious to his state.

It was my brothers that made me realize that Manga was almost crossing to the other world; and the other neigbour's who had walked in on me as I was clad in a bloody uniform, possessing a crazed look and a heavy plank in my hand that made the police shift blame for the incident and called me an insane child who shouldn't have even been born. They said I was a loose one...

"You haven't eaten," Henry said staring at me and at the sausage in my hand. Somehow, he'd gotten the exact same one as the first day we'd met.

"I'm not hungry," I said, finding my voice despite everything as I dropped the sausage beside me and sat up.

He was beside me before I could blink.

"What's wrong?"

I couldn't tell him. He'd look at me like my neighbours did that day; the way their eyes were filled with hatred like I wasn't just defending my sister.

"You can tell me anything Harida."

Before he could pressure me more to pour out my heart, the doctor walked in, my files in hand.

"Chikamharida Bick," he said and I looked into his eyes. "You've been released. Please take this and get the appointment card from the receptionist to see the psychiatrist," he said handing me a paper which I refused to accept, leaving Henry to take it in my stead.

*****

We were in the black Camry. I was by the passenger seat as Henry drove. The scene never changed, searching winds, tall trees and nothing more.

The car was so thick with silence.

"You've refused to talk Harida. Maybe we should drop by the psychiatrist before heading to the estate."

"No," I said. "I'm fine."

"The doctor and everyone that can see you knows your not fine. It's the same. First you refused to speak and now you keep getting lost in your head."

I thought about the face of the police, of the VSORC officer that precided over my case, how they'd all looked at me like I was the criminal. Like I was the one trying to take a young girl's life.

"I'm fine."

"You're obvious not fine if "I'm fine" is the only thing you can say. It's like your trying to convince yourself."

"I'm - just drop it okay! When I say I'm fine Henry, I'm fine."

"Alright," he said solemnly, raising both hands in surrender. "I get it."

The remaining journey continued in silence until we arrived at the gate of the mansion. Tall black gates which were immediately pulled open by male guards in green overalls.

Then, Henry drove us up the tarred pathway until we arrived at the lot where he packed beside a silver van, leaving me to walk out and embrace the first set of sun rays in over seven days.

I missed being out and being able to make my own decisions like refusing psychiatric treatment. I was definitely normal.

"Thank you for everything Henry I really appreciate," I said, walking to the driver's side so that I faced him. "And like I said in the car, I'm fine. I would not be visiting a psychologist."

He looked at me like he was already expecting it. He wasn't even surprised. Maybe I was truly crazy like my neighbours back home made me out to be but either way, I would surely make it big in life, I promised myself that.

As I walked the cobblestone path that led to the left wing of the mansion I made up my mind to do normal things that murderers wouldn't do. Things like not thinking about the past for once because I definitely wasn't a murderer or a "loose thing"!

Manga was alive despite my wishes...

I haven't killed him.