All to have him turn his back on her as well.
Turning on the bathroom light, Eva looked at herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back did not look familiar to her. The haggard look of her features, the bags under her eyes, that was not what she had envisioned to look like right before she brought this precious child into the world. She imagined having the glow that everyone talked about, and that, coupled with the glow of love from him, nothing would make her regret this decision.
But she regretted every bit of it.
Lowering herself to the toilet, she waited for the small amount of pee that would emanate from her body. It was really ridiculous how many times she had to pee in a day now.
Idly, Eva wondered what Brenda was doing back home, if she was missing her cousin and worrying about not having any contact with her. Eva wanted to, but had ceased to ask to use the telephone after her first few attempts to do so. What was she going to tell them anyway? That she had made a mistake? That the man she thought loved her was really only after her money?
Now that he couldn’t gain access even as her husband, his contact with her was nearly non-existent.
A tear escaped her eye and Eva swiped at it angrily. She was so stupid! So naive to think that he would love her!
A sudden gush between her legs caught her attention and Eva felt a tiny prick of pain as she realized that her water had just broken.
Oh no. She wasn’t ready to have this baby! There was no one to call for, no one to help her heave herself off the toilet as she waddled out to the bedroom, yanking the door open.
The man that was stationed there eyed her suspiciously as her back spasmed in pain, nearly buckling her knees in the process. “It’s time,” she panted, sending him running down the hall. It was time to have her child.
Chapter 8
Friday, December 23, 1988
1:15 p.m.
Now, more than ever, she regretted not having taken her father’s advice. But it was too late.
Eva had thought her father prejudiced then; greedy for not wanting to share his wealth with the poorer; old-fashioned for not believing in the possibility of a gentle and pacific society where money or position didn’t matter and sex was engaged in freely.
Her gaze wandered over the almost empty windowless ceremonial birth room, paused on the door for a second and went back to the woman. She knew she was trapped and could only rely now on the women in front of her. “Help me, please. Help my baby. I’ll give you anything you desire. Money—”
She stopped because she remembered she had no money. Her mother had left her inheritance tied in a trust and the trustee was her father. She didn’t even try to call him asking for money after she eloped from their home.
Her father had just foreseen the utopia that had been preached would never be realized when using psychedelic drugs and surrendering freedom of choice—and it goes without saying, all your wealth—were prerequisites.
But Eva wasn’t so sure she believed any of it now.
What she had anticipated happening in her life and what was happening now, well, they weren’t even close. He spouted words of reckoning, words that were bringing many to their knees in thanksgiving, but Eva was starting to think she was living in some sort of weird alternative lifestyle, one that was likely going to continue to ruin her life.
“Please,” she whispered, broken from what she had learned since her time here. There was no one to help her, no one that was willing to step out of the line that was drawn for them.
He clearly wasn’t going to help her any longer. He had gotten what he wanted—or rather, hadn’t gotten, and when she had disappointed him, he had turned his back on her and their baby.
The old midwife looked from Eva to the man, and lastly to his mother, fear as clear in her eyes as the blood was bright in the sheets she was hurriedly throwing in a basket and substituting for new ones. “We should take her to a hospital.”
Maybe the old woman would be more compassionate than the husband.
“Nonsense. What she needs is a cup of yagé. It’ll help the delivery,” the old woman said, and walked to a corner in the room and brought back a small silver cup, handing it to the midwife. “Make her drink.”
“But…”
“Make her drink.”
The midwife went to the bed. “It’ll calm your nerves and ease your labor pains.”
His mother nodded before asking, “And the baby?”
He shrugged. “Put it with the other orphans and find it a wet nurse.”
Eva cinched her arms tightly around her distended abdomen. She didn’t want her child to be born in such a place. She didn’t want her baby put up with the orphans.
“What is it?” she asked in a whisper, eyeing as the midwife.
“Yagé,” said the midwife.
But before she could help Eva drink the concoction, another contraction ripped through her body, tearing a scream from her throat, “I’m gonna die!”
The midwife looked up from where she was squatted. “She is going to die, my lord.”
“Well, we all have to die one day.” He looked from the midwife, to his wife convulsing on the bed, and up to his mother. “I’ll go and pray for her poor soul.”
Eva barely heard him, not caring if he was present for the birth or not anymore. She had thought he loved her, that he loved this child they had created together, but it was all an illusion, one that she had seen far too late to do anything about.
Another pain ripped through her body and she screamed, allowing all her frustration to escape through her.
Pain.
They hadn’t given her anything, they hadn’t taken her to a proper hospital to deliver this baby as she had anticipated. No, she was giving birth in the most horrid of conditions, with people that could care less if she or her baby survived.
The midwife shook her head as she peered between Eva’s legs, her hands coming back bloody. “The baby is tearing her apart.”
“Deliver it and be done with it,” the other woman snapped, her eyes on Eva’s face. “We don’t have all day.”
Eva wanted to tell them not to touch her, but she couldn’t find the strength, bearing down as the pain intensified, ripping her from the inside out. It wasn’t supposed to be like this!
“Push, girl,” the midwife urged. “Get this over with.”
“I—I can’t!” Eva cried out, her hands clutching the sweat and blood soaked sheets. “Please, help me!”
The midwife raised her head and locked eyes with Eva over her distended belly. “Push, or you and the baby are gonna die.”
No, not her precious child! She couldn’t allow that to happen.
With the last little bit of her strength, Eva beared down and pushed, screaming as she felt the baby pass through the birth canal, each frisson of pain urging her on, telling her it was going to be over with soon.
“That’s it,” the midwife coached. “Almost there!”
Eva let out a last, hoarse scream before she felt the pressure disappear, her vision blurring as she heard the first weak cry of her baby.
“It’s a girl,” the midwife announced, but Eva barely heard her, her consciousness drifting. She had done it. She had given birth. All was going to be well.
“Will she live?” his mother asked softly, watching as the midwife wiped the copious amounts of blood from the baby’s tiny body, clamping the cord with her quick hands.
“The girl or the baby?” the midwife hissed, clearly not happy about the turn of events.
“Either,” his mother grumbled, as the midwife attempted to stave the bleeding.
“B-baby,” Eva said weakly, barely able to lift her head off the pillow. “My baby. Please.”
The midwife could not answer, her throat had closed and there were tears in her eyes as she put the little baby girl in Eva’s arms. The new mother could barely hold onto the squirming baby girl and the midwife was forced to place her arms around the trembling mother’s to keep the baby from falling onto the
floor.
“I—I’m not going to make it, am I?” Eva asked, her face a deathly shade of pale. She could feel the life draining out of her now, a horrible cold settling into her bones that seemed to be too hard to overcome.
“Shh, now,” the midwife said, wiping the young girl’s face with a wet rag. “Focus on your baby.”
Eva looked down at the tiny life in her arms, tears crowding her eyes.
She wished for her father to be here, Brenda, anyone that could take this precious bundle away to a better life. She didn’t want her child to grow up in this place! Looking up at the woman, she could barely make out her outline. “H-here,” she said, her voice faint to her own ears. “Please, take care of her. Don’t let these people destroy her.”
The midwife took the small baby in her arms, her expression sympathetic to the young mother. “I won’t, I promise she will have a good life.”
Eva nodded, a lone tear escaping down her cheek. “Thank you.”
The midwife bit her lip as she watched the young woman’s eyes flutter and close, as one last shuddering breath left her broken body before all went quiet.
Chapter 9
April 1994
“Where is she! I swear, if you have lost her yet again...”
“I haven’t, I swear. She was just here. Likely she’s hiding.”
“Find her and bring her here. He wants to see her.”
The little girl crouched in the shadows of the table, the tablecloth covering her small frame. She liked to play hide and seek with them, making them think that she had disappeared like they told her she should have. Under the table she could pretend she was anyone, anywhere.
“Come on out. I know you are in here. Please. I don’t want to get in trouble again.”
She didn’t want her to get in trouble either. If she didn’t come out, there would be no food for her tonight, her stomach already growling for the soup she would be fed. Maybe she should come out of her hiding place. That way they both didn’t get into trouble.
Crawling on the cold, stone floor, she popped out from under the table. “I’m here.”
The young girl turned around, hurrying toward her and pulling her to her feet. “Thank God. Why are you hiding? Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t going to hit you?”
She nodded. She was nicer than most, feeding her crackers when she had extras.
The older girl sighed, brushing the dirt off her dress. “I don’t know why you run, really. You know you can’t get anywhere far. None of us can.”
She bit her lip as the girl led her from the warmth of the kitchen, down the hall where the others were at. She didn’t like the others. They picked at her, said she was ugly and different than they were.
She didn’t like it at all.
The older woman was standing in the doorway as they approached the room, her hands clasped at her back. “You found her.”
“I told you I knew where she was at,” the older girl stated, gripping her hand tightly. “She’s my responsibility. I know where she went.”
The older woman sniffed, giving her the evil eye. “Don’t let it happen again. You might not be around to find her next time.”
The child moved closer to the older girl as she felt the tremble go through her. She didn’t want anything to happen to the girl. She would try to be good for her and not run as much as she wanted to.
Chapter 10
June 2004
She hurried down the hall, her slippers sliding on the floor as she turned the corner.
She was late, and when they were late, there was punishment to be dealt. Pushing open the door, she skidded to a stop, all eyes on her as she walked into the room as if she weren’t late at all.
“I told you she was going to be late.”
“Why does she think she’s special? She’s no different than the lot of us.”
She held her head up high as she walked past, taking her seat at the end of the long bench, tucking her hands in her lap.
She didn’t think she was special at all. What did they see that she didn’t? She was treated the same—rather, she was treated worse than the rest of them. She didn’t even have a name.
The side door opened and they all sat up a little straighter as he walked in the room, his billowing robes like black wings floating behind him. He had one for every day of the week, though Sundays were her favorite. On that day he wore pristine white, looking more like their leader and less like the formidable man that he was portraying right now.
As he approached the bench, they all stood dutifully, with the older women behind them, waiting for one of them to step out of line so they could be punished. No one dared move, barely breathing as he started on the far end, inspecting each girl as he did every week. She felt as if they were being evaluated for something, though no one ever told them why he did this inspection or what the outcome was.
But when one girl did not meet his expectations, well, they never saw her again.
She kept her eyes lowered to the floor, attempting to watch from the corner of her eye as he moved slowly down the line, muttering comments too softly to hear to his advisor that followed him everywhere.
From memory, she knew of his tall, lean frame, his hair the color of midnight, with graying at the temples.
She thought of the shrewdness of his gaze as he would look at her face, the brilliance of his blue eyes as they stared at her for a moment.
There was no warmth in those depths, no emotions that would make her think that he saw them as anything other than objects.
His shuffling grew nearer and she felt her heart race with anticipation that this would soon be over and she could go back to her duties, another week gone by that she was still here.
They were not allowed to discuss this inspection and if they were overheard doing so, it was a week without food.
No one wished for a week without food.
Finally, his shiny shoes came into view and she ceased to breathe, feeling the coldness of his touch on her chin as he beckoned for her to meet his gaze.
There was always something familiar about his gaze, as if she were looking into a mirror but was unable to understand the reflection. Not that they had similar eyes, no. Hers were a dismayed violet as the others liked to say—but there was something in those depths, a hatred and a longing which didn’t settle well on her.
“Freak,” he said, his words like a whisper. “Who would have thought.”
She wanted to ask what that meant, but again, talking to him without permission was worse than a week without food.
He let out a breath, no emotions on his face as he dropped his hand, regarding her in awkward silence to the point that she wanted to say something just to get a stir out of him.
“What is that?”
She held her breath as he brushed her hair aside, hair that they were required to keep shoulder length and down when they were not performing their duties. She knew what he was talking about and wanted to sink into the floor. Normally she remembered to take it off, but she had been in such a hurry today that she forgot.
Flustered, she watched as his advisor peered at her, a frown on his face. “It’s a necklace, my lord.”
“A necklace,” he repeated, his eyes transfixed on the small silver chain around her neck. “Do we allow them to wear jewelry?”
“N-no,” the advisor announced, reaching in and before she could do anything, ripped the necklace from her neck, the chain biting into her skin as it was pulled free. She watched as the advisor tucked it into his pocket, the last memory of her mother now in the possession of him.
He looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of something even stronger than hatred, if that was possible.
Her heart sunk as he motioned for one of the women to come forward.
“Five days in the room,” he stated firmly. “Anyone that attempts to help her will be cast out.”
“Y-yes my lord,” the woman bobbed her head, gripping her arm so tightly that she kne
w she would have bruises on it later.
A sinking feeling settled into her stomach as she was escorted out of the room, down the familiar hall that no one wanted to go.
“How could you be so foolish?” the woman seethed as she forced her down the hall. “You know the rules yet you choose to break them, repeatedly. Do you not want to belong?”
“I wanted to belong,” she stated, as she was thrust through a doorway, the smell of dust and wax heavy in the air.
The woman pursed her lips as she stood in the doorway, the key already in her hand. “Perhaps this will be your breaking point then.”
She bowed her head, falling to her knees dutifully as she started to murmur the prayer that she would be forced to repeat for the next five days, wincing as the door shut firmly, the key grating in the lock.
Five days in solitude, with no connection to the outside world. No food, no sunshine, nothing.
It was enough to break one’s spirit, but she refused to bend.
They did not know who she was and what she knew about her life, her existence.
They did not know that she was smarter than she appeared to be.
She did not want to belong.
She wished to be free.
Turn the page to sneak a peek at the fate of Eva’s baby on Love Painted in Red!
A Note From The Author
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