Remember?

“She’s mad” the milkmen whisper, “killed her husband!” the women gossip, “run away” the children scream.

Delilah rani has been used to comments like these for years, comments she knows are lies. She did not kill her husband, the court did not find her guilty. But it seems like this town always will.

3 years ago, on the morning of the first day of summer, Delilah rani was seen running out of her house at full speed, her clothes were the same red color as the color of the red stains on her hands, it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was covered in blood. Now everyone knew her husband, Mr rani, was a very violent man, a man who could not control his temper. His neighbors could tell you about the horrific crying of his wife at night. Naturally, everybody thought two things - firstly he totally flipped this time, and he hurt her horribly or else she flipped and it was his blood on her hands. Some hours later their curiosity was satisfied , Mr rani was dead, but he wasn’t the only one. There was a blond lady beside him with a knife in her chest.

The town spoke in wonder about the affair. They took the blond lady as a girlfriend and Delilah as the killer. 3 days later they were horrified when a police car pulled up at the rani house and Delilah exited. Two burly policemen supported her. She was... unconscious? From that day onwards the whispers have followed Delilah, even though what really happened on that night is unknown to everyone, everyone but me. I was there on that night, in that very kitchen, I had come to visit my mother. A Mother who dint know I was her daughter.

I was raised in Johnson orphanage as a girl nobody wanted, a baby found at the doorstep. I never understood why a mother would do that to the baby she carried for 9 months, why would she abandon me? As a child I wondered maybe it was the way I was, maybe she dints like me, that thought took hold of my self-esteem and suffocated it at the throat, I grew so conscious of the way I was I grew a stutter, my tongue never strong enough to hold the most basic of words. I hated it; I hated that it left me unheard.

For years I tried to find out about my mother, but to no avail. One day I got a call from a man called Damian he said he was my dad, he told me my mom had me when she was sixteen, an age too young to handle a child and she was scared, she feared anger from her father. So she left me at an orphanage. He said he wasn’t together with my mom anymore, but he gave me her address. I was excited, but most of all I was scared. It scared me that she still won’t want me.

A few weeks later I gathered up the courage and packed my bags up, I would have to do this once and for all. I needed to.

I was panicking as I forced myself to knock on the door, my underarms were sweaty and I had bitten my nails down to half circles. I kept on wondering, what would my mother say? How would she look? Would she hug me? I hoped she would, I’ve always wondered how that would feel like, I’ve heard people describe a mother’s hug as peaceful a hug that takes all your worries away, I would say that a mother’s hug is a reminder of enormous everlasting love. I really hoped that that day I would finally realize what a mother’s hug really feels like.

The door was opened, but not by the person I was hoping would open it. It was a man that opened it, not a lady. The man was big and burly, and he had a face that looked like a very dark rain cloud. When I saw him I tried to smile politely even though my insides felt like they were rotting with disappointment, I thought maybe I had the wrong house.

“I. Is this Mrs’s Delilah’s hou.u..Se,” I had asked the man

He looked down at me, tilting his head to one side.

“Yes. Who are you? “He asked.

I didn’t want to tell him the truth in case it got Delilah into trouble

So I smiled at the vile-looking man and told him I was a friend of hers. He told me she wasn’t around but invited me in to wait. I didn’t want to, I dint like the aura around that man, but I was in a foreign town with nowhere to go. So I accepted.

Maybe I had a feeling that something would go wrong the moment I stepped into their dark living room. I looked around the house when I entered, trying to find some consolation that in where Delilah lived I could find some reflection of a mother I could love, but I was horribly disappointed. The furniture was brown and ancient; the windows were shuttered, blocking light from the room. The rug might have been pretty once, but now it was faded. On the wall, there was a picture. Of a couple, I wanted to go closer to get a better look at the lady. But Mr rain was dogging my every step, which made me feel uncomfortable. I took a seat on the sofa and I comforted myself with the fact that even though the house lacked color and beauty; it was spotless. That must say something about Delilah.

Mr rani took a seat opposite me and it was very hard to look in his eyes as I searched the walls for something to say, but I found nothing. Finally, Mr rani cleared his throat.

“ How do you know, Delilah,” he asked. I was stumped. I didn’t know what to say.

“i...i.i used.d to be a neigh.bour.r “I said and smiled. I hoped he wouldn’t ask me anything else.

“Hmmm,” he said, and he tilted his head to one side.

My heart started to pump with fear at the look in his eyes. I wanted to get away at that moment. If Delilah wasn’t here, I needed to leave. I don’t want to be in this dark house with this fat man. It gave me a creepy feeling.

I tried standing up then; I tried saying I want to leave.

But what happened, happened. If I could go back to that moment I would make sure I never entered the house, I would not have picked up the phone call from my father. But I made all those decisions and now. Now I’m dead.

Delilah entered the house at the time when I had almost given up hope, when I thought there would be nobody to save me. When I thought the vile fat man would finally get the better of me. I almost died with relief so intense when she opened the door. And Even in my panicked, half-crazy state, when she entered, my brain paused for a moment just to say ‘wow. This is my mother.’ she was beautiful. Is beautiful. Beautiful like I could never have been. But she was frail, frail like a feather.

She entered the house in an absent-minded way, her groceries in one hand, and a look of purpose in her eyes as if deciding what she wanted to do next. She didn’t look at me immediately. Dint look at us. But when she did, she froze. The hands that clutched the groceries grew weak and in a moment tins were bouncing on the floor, the surrounding floor was covered in all kinds of vegetable juices.

She walked towards her husband slowly, raising one hand on the way. She pointed a shaky finger at him.

“ Were you, were you going to cheat on me?” her voice was breaking off with emotion.

I don’t know why but at that moment, my heart shattered as she ascended towards him, tears flooding her beautiful face. She hadn’t even looked at me. He also started walking towards her, pumping out his chest on the way. as if all it took to be a man was good posture. In a minute Delilah was screaming at him, her mind ravaged the way I assumed her heart to be. She clutched the front of his shirt, shaking him with all her might. He didn’t move an inch. As if his legs had grown roots to support the body of a tree that he had.

The change happened quickly. So quickly I didn’t realize what happened. One moment Delilah was shaking him roughly, the next she was on the floor, blood streaming down her body from her head and he was still standing proud, a broken vase in his hand.

I didn’t have time to scream. I ran towards her. One hand under her cheek, caressing it, the other hand shaking her body, trying to bring conscious back to her bones. Slowly, she opened her eyes. But I knew something was wrong. The expression in her eyes was mad. She stood up abruptly and ran towards the kitchen at full speed. She was back in minutes before I could stand up. In her hands, she had a sharp-pointed knife, but that dint scare me. It was the lunatic craziness of her actions, as she ran towards Mr rani. he had no time to react before the knife was plunged into his chest, his scream forever frozen there.

I got up quickly, and she turned to look at me. Immediately I understood, I was shaking my head at her, trying to beg her.

“no.N p.p.pl.e.a.ss.e, i.i.m your Daug,h”

I turned around running as fast as I could towards the door but it was no good, in a minute, there was a plunging pain in my chest, I didn’t even recognize it as I screamed, my eyes watered, and I was on the ground before I knew it. The pain in my chest was horrible but the look her eyes, my mother’s eyes, as I took my last breath was worse.

Delilah rani had in fact gone mad on that day, the blow to her head left her with a rare madness, she could go crazy if severely traumatized but whatever she did in her period of insanity would remain unknown to her. It would remain blank to her.

......

She sits at her table quietly enjoying a cup of tea. The town might hate her for a crime she never committed, but at least a warm cup of tea would never desert her. She looks around at the newly decorated house, relishing in the beauty of her handiwork.

It was true, she dint miss Albert, he was a monster on earth, and since he died, she could finally do the things she liked. For the first time she could decorate the house however she wanted, and she didn’t feel bad for it. Just that there was always a lingering quilt in her heart when she thought about him, she didn’t know where that quilt came from, because she knows she didn’t kill him.

.....

On Halloween day, 2 over the top teenagers decided to commit the most idiotic crime of their life. They would play a Halloween prank on Delilah rani. they lay in ambush outside her house. When she came out to tend to her flowers, they sprang on her. She felt cornered and immediately her panic mode madness was activated. Both the boys were injured and the town finally had proof against Delilah rani.

......

She woke up in confusion. Her hands were in chains and she was in a white-walled room. This wasn’t right what was happening to her, she started screaming at whoever could hear her, please open the door and let her out.

outside her door, the 2 guards stationed there looked at each other with a look of shared discomfort, after all, who loves to work in an asylum.

....

As for me, after all these years I still continue to watch after Delilah rani. like the oppressed look for a chance of revenge, obsessively, like the trees track the movement of the tree, carefully.