I stare at my fragile self in the massive full length mirror and I almost start crying again but I sternly steel myself against it. I have just spent the longest one week of my life, mostly crying myself to sleep. I have not eating enough to keep an infant alive and as I stared at the mirror, I looked ghostly and spent. I knew that I was not an exceedingly fair girl but I looked white and pale, with my eyes deep in their sockets. Ever since I accepted marriage to Corper Bello, I have not set my eyes on him, and I can only be grateful for that miracle. Though, we were made to stay in one of the boys quarters in the mansion by the Senator, I wished I was back in my peaceful and happy village, either going off to the stream or fetching fire woods. I should actually be writing my WAEC. Fresh tears coerced down my cheeks as yet another dream died; the dream to get married to a man happily; a man who I loved and who loved me in return. As fate would have it, I am not only getting married to a man who loathed me and saw me as nothing more than a dirty village slut, I am also marrying a man who was not ready to accept or father my unborn child. The time ticked and my heart beat accelerated, moving at the same pace as the seconds-hand of the clock.
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In a few minutes, I would no longer be Amara Peters, I would be Amara Bello. This filled me with so much pain and I had to grab a nearby table to keep my weightless form from falling. I had imagined marriage to Corper Bello over and over again in the past, while he wooed me and made me feel like the most special woman on earth in the village. I had imagined us living happily ever after like in the fairy tales. Never did I think that we would be getting married for all the wrong reasons, with so much hatred and pain.
The door opened and I quickly dried my eyes as my mum entered. “Ama, you need to get dressed my dear” she said softly.
I nodded vigorously. All I want to do is flee, run as fast as I can until the world looked normal again. As I stood, I noticed my mum holding a white silky satin material in her hand.
“I was able to get you this” she explained shakily. “It is not a proper wedding gown but it would serve. It was all I could afford” she said softly.
I blinked. After staring for some seconds, I shook my head. “I am not getting married mama, I am being sentenced to life in prison” tears dropped. “I can’t wear this. It should only be worn for a happy occasion; this is not a happy event. I am not destined to be happy”
Mum pulled me into her arms and hugged me tight and I felt her tears. “Oh, my daughter. If it were up to me, you won’t marry that useless boy. I hate seeing you sad, I want you to be happy Ama” she said tearfully and pain sliced through me again.