A week passes without me telling my mother that I am pregnant. 

I know my mother will not let me have an abortion, and I know that I do not want to have this baby. A baby born out of violence. 

“Nomfundo, is everything okay?”my mom asks.

I see the concern on her face. Ever since the rape incident, she always wants to be by my side.

“I’m fine, ma.” I smile weakly.

She nods and proceeds chopping the vegetables. She hums a song under her breath. 

I stand up and walk to my bedroom, her eyes follow me till I disappear inside. I throw myself on the bed and weep silently.

**

I wake up from a violent dream. A flashback. A memory. I remember.

I sit up on the bed, drenched in sweat. My eyes run around the room, while my heart thumps hard on my chest. 

My mind goes over the details again and again in my head. I grab my cellphone and dial my therapist, I want to tell her that I finally remember.

Suddenly, I put the phone down. If I tell her, she’ll push me to go to the police. That’s the last thing I want. 

My mind snaps. Revenge, is all I’m after.

I will kill them one by one, they will curse the day they crossed paths with this moffie.

“One after the other. I will kill them all.” I whisper to the rape baby in my stomach.