The Day I Killed My Mum With My Own Hands

There are some days or rather some mornings you wake up feeling completely distraught; frustration clouds your mind, all sorts of negativity creep into your head slowly like a spider crawling up a wall.

People say it’s waking up on the wrong side of the bed and I can totally relate to all of these this Sunday morning. That’s right! It’s Sunday. I didn’t realize it’s a Sunday morning, my brain is so numb that I can feel the deadness of my bones.

But then, it’s not just physical stress that’s dealing with me right now, it’s mental stress mostly. The combination of this two make an explosive even in the calmest of brains. It’s not my fault I feel this way, it’s what happens when you do four different jobs daily; leave the house by 8 am and come back by 10 pm everyday. Just the thought of the bills to pay alone is enough to crush you.

All of these clouding my head makes me just want to stay back this morning and sleep, and temporarily forget about my one million and one problems. I really don’t want to go to church, to respond to the choirmaster’s “lift those holy hands unto the Lord”. My hands are quite holy but my heart is heavy and not liberal at all which I believe not to be a good mood for worship of any sort or for more boring sermons about the Lord sorting the needs of his people out. I don’t see mine being taken away from me.

I pretty much have to put up a good convincing story or reason as to why I need to stay back today. My parents are among the heads of the church, they won’t let me stay at all particularly, my mum. Mum is a deaconess and a Sunday School Teacher, my dad is the assistant pastor. So you see? I need an amazing story.

“Ufuoma, I hope you know you have to fetch water and do your chores before leaving for church. Remember we have a guest minister coming in today, get up from that bed and start doing something. I won’t take it lightly with you if you’re late”, My mum yells out loudly

I’m still lying in bed, too weak and slightly pissed to reply with an affirmation which she would be expecting. My mind is filled with thoughts, racing in and out, pissing me off, driving me crazy.
Thoughts of how to stand up to my flirtatious boss, thoughts of the risk involved the moment I turn down his advances, thoughts of just how much I spent settling the outrageous fees my siblings’ school are demanding, thoughts of how exhausting it is to to shoulder all these responsibilities at my young age.

Anger is rising steadily in me. Why can’t my parents shield all these duties? What are they my parents for if I’m the one taking care of the family? Mum claims the Holy Spirit asked her not to work. Dad is rarely paid from the church even as a full time minister. It’s so annoying. I’m tired of all these and I’m so not going to church no matter what.

“Ufuoma, are you mad!? Can’t you see the time? Will you get up from that bed? “, My mum screams at me disrupting me from the crazy thoughts going on within.

“I’m not going”, I manage to mumble out with a bit of fear
“Kee ife ikwuru? What did you say?”, mom asks me with wide blazing eyes
Mustering courage due to the flash of some thoughts, ” I said I’m not going”, I yell at her
She stares at me with total unbelief awaiting explanations to follow through as to my outburst.
“I have no reasons, I’m really not in a good mood, I want to stay back and rest. I’ve had an awful week. Ike gwuru m biko. I’m tired please”, I state defiantly.
“So because you’re tired, we should now dance and fry eggs for you eh? So, that should give you right to stay home and miss a full impartation service today. It’s me that’s not tired now shebi? You’re talking jargons. Nne, you’re going to church and that’s final! “
“I said I’m going nowhere!”

“Ufuoma, so we’re now age mates, you’re raising your voice at me. What has come over you? I said it! I said it, that those wayward girls you work with at that hotel will spoil you. Oya look at it. Can you see? I told you not to take that job. Now, you better listen to me and listen good, obughi n’ulo a inuria? It’s not in this house that you’ll turn into a pagan. You’re going to get dressed for church right now! “

“This same job you castigate is the job that puts food on the table in this house. Tell me how your children have their tuition settled, how are they in a private school? How are the bills in this house paid? How do you buy the things you put on? Is it because of me? Isn’t it cos of the that job?

Unable to hold it anymore, I raise my voice louder, “Mum you should be ashamed of yourself! I do the things you and your husband ought to do and you have the guts to think you have some power over me? No, I don’t think so. I’m done with this crap. Technically, I am “I am the mother and father in this house” . I provide everything! And you’re the one to do as I say… “

Before I can finish, she raises her hand and slaps me hard on my cheek leaving resounding sounds on my ear.
“I carried you nine good months in my womb, Ufuoma! You dare not talk to me that way no matter what! “
“I hate you! You’re unworthy to be called a mother”, I spit out angrily and walk out on her towards the living room. I just need my earphones, I need to leave this house right now.

“Ufuoma! Get back here! Have you lost it?”, Mum calls out following me directly
Grabbing my earphones from one of the chairs in the living room, I ignore her and walk faster heading to the door. She tries to drag me back attempting to overtake me as to shut the door I’m about to open. Using my left elbow, I manage to nudge her back and with my right hand push her away hard. I open the door and quickly race down the stairs before she tries to come after me. I know my mum to be relentless.

Getting to the first floor, I realize I can’t hear Mum screaming my name and promising to deal with me. There are no sounds of echoing footsteps too, to show she came after me. That is highly unlike her.
I remove my slipper slowly and hold it in my hands and begin to creep back up quietly so she won’t hear me coming. I’m curious to know if she’d let me walk away just like that. My plan is to pretend to get some cash and leave immediately if she catches me.

I get to our door, incline my ears to it to know if I can pick any sounds of bed fuming but I hear nothing. Swinging down the door knob slowly and quietly, I walk into a shocking sight.
There’s a pool of blood. My mum is lying in it lifelessly. A shard of glass is sticking out of her neck and one more in her arm. I must have pushed her so hard that she fell towards our already weak glass table.
Oh No! Oh God No! Mum! Nooo!!! I didn’t just kill my mum over a silly argument.
“But you did, but you just did”,a voice in my head says to me.

Let me know if you enjoyed the story in the comments and if you want a part two do let me know as well😊😊

Disclaimer 

P. S: The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

 

Send CHICHETARAM VICTORIA Feedback