The next morning I was sitting at the table snorting some cocaine when Aslam walked into the kitchen after having shower.
“Did you manage to do pregnancy test?” he asked.
“No, I don’t have a car to go anywhere” I replied.
Aslam called a family doctor and made an appointment for the morning.
“He will do the tests and will not ask any other questions,” said Aslam
I just wore a pair of jeans and a tshirt and tied up my hair. There was no reason to doll up for the doctor I thought.
The doctor was ready to see us when we arrived. Amazingly we did not have to wait for hours. He asked us a few embarrassing questions. He asked me about my menstruation cycle. He asked us how often we had sex and when was the last time. I felt awkward answering these questions about sex to a stranger especially with Aslam sitting right there. Then he asked me to stand on the scale.
“You are severely underweight, what concerns me is you are showing clear signs of drug abuse, but that is none of my business, let us do the pregnancy test” said the doctor.
He then handed me a cup.
“What must I do with this?” I enquired.
“Go and pee in it,” said Aslam laughing.
This was going to be interesting and very challenging, to pee in a cup. I managed to catch some of it and brought it back to the doctor. “Leave it on the table by the toilet, the nurse will take care of it,” said the doctor with a smirk on his face. He then took some blood for blood tests.
“We are done, I will call you once we have the results. What still concerns me is the drug..”
Aslam cut the doctor short,
“thank you doc, keep us posted,” and we left in a great hurry.
Before Aslam dropped me off at the apartment, he stopped to meet the “foreigner” and a business associate. I was surprised to see that the business associate was my David. He was ravishingly handsome. We have been keeping in touch and he didn’t even tell me he was going to be in Joburg today.
David was Dahlia’s brother. He was here to finalise the details regarding all the laundering between Joburg and Durban. I didn’t hear anything they were saying. David always puts me into this hypnotic trance. Aslam noticed my staring. My phone started beeping
“Why don’t you go fucking home with him, stop drooling over this white guy,” messaged Aslam
Something started nagging at me about this whole deal. I then realized this was the same David that Faheem was worried about. They finally left and there went my eye candy.
“Stop being a slut in front of other man, you are embarrassing me,” shouted Aslam. I just kept silent. I was not in a mood for a bashing.
I tried to find out more about the deal and Aslam brushed me of saying the woman should just sit there and look pretty and not get involved in men’s business.
The doctor called in the afternoon. “You are not pregnant, Fatima.”
At least an abortion was out of the question. I was relieved that I did not have to decide to kill my baby.
“Can you prescribe some birth control bills for me,” I enquired. .
“I will send you the prescription. What is still worrying me is you have all the signs of cocaine addict..”
I cut the call immediately.
The loneliness was killing me. I had a husband that was always absent. Even when he was around he was not around. He was either on his phone on business deals or sleeping. I had all the luxuries I desired but I did not have companionship and someone to talk to. I started pining for David. Before I called him I came to my senses. David was trouble and I found it weird he was stalking me in Durban. It most probably was a set up or something from Dahlia.
Days, maybe weeks or even months passed. I was not counting. Those days that went past dragged and most of it was a blur. Drugs became my intimate friend. Aslam was hardly around. He only came to please himself and leave. He occasionally took me to a meeting with a client. All these places were just filled with drugs, booze and cheap women. Life was becoming boring and monotonous. I had no purpose. All I lived for was the next high.
My life was floating into a dark abyss of loneliness. I felt like I was drowning in a pit of emptiness. I craved people to talk to. I felt trapped in this apartment like the walls were caving in on me. This is what prison must fee like. Aslam would not even let me go to the mall to get the groceries and always go them delivered. I couldn’t leave. When he came home he would check my phone to see who I was calling and chatting with. I think he was also monitoring my calls and checking the bills to see whom I was messaging.
The drugs were not as potent as they use to be. The highs lasted for seconds compared to before. I had no one to talk to so I started talking to myself in the mirror. I actually broke the mirror. I hated what I saw. I was ugly and skeleton thin and my skin seemed to have aged. I felt isolated.
“You bitch, are you sleeping with other men, you slut. Since you came into my life it has been a living hell, I hate you. ” Aslam came storming into the apartment filled with rage, yelling like a mad man. He picked me up and threw me against the wall and then started choking me. “Today you are going to die.” I felt helpless and just surrendered to whatever was going to happen to me. I did not fight back. Aslam started punching me and when I fell to the floor he started kicking me. Blood was everywhere. I could not move. I found it difficult to breathe. There was an excruciating pain emanating from my ribs. I felt paralysed with fear that I messed my pants. I eventually passed out.
When I regained some consciousness I was alone and I was astonished to be alive. I screamed for help. I called for Aslam. No one answered. I crawled towards the coffee table where my phone was. It was extremely painful to get to that point. I felt lost and did not know whom to call. I dialed.
“Layha, please help me!”