The Hated Millionaire Heir

Finding life

Naive, young, blind, stupid, back then she owned these personalities, when she was young and energetic, filled with ecstasy that finally she had blossomed, “Sweet eighteen.”, she rejoiced. They prepared to make all of this possible, her father was a worker in the coal mines for the rail factory while her mother was a waitress at a bar, she was the offspring off these two. All her life she wanted to be free, to escape that cage, their home a roasted brick by brick house split by curtains as doors, gaps on walls with a nailed nylon bag on the inside and outside as windows, the ceiling was rotten and brown patches patterned, she wanted more than just rice for every meal, to have more than one slice of bread for breakfast, she wanted a better life. With the amounts they could spare her parents brought in her celebration cake, a muffin the size of a baseball, on top a candle, a lighting candle they had not yet used and its wax still solid, that muffin was the most expensive food they had bought for their princess. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Salma… happy birthday to you!” her mother sang while her father used their kitchen basin as a drum thumping the outside with his palm, “Make your wish darling.” Her mother whispered lighting the candle. She closed her eyes, pictured that wish, she neared the muffin and from her mother’s earshot she whispered, “I want a life.”, then blew the candle. It was time to eat the cake, the cake enough to feed a colony of ants yet not enough for a toddler, they had sacrificed that day’s meal for their daughter and as she turned, pity in her eyes her mother looked at her, she placed her hands on her cheeks and gazed in her eyes then turned to her husband, “Go make a life. But be careful we tried to have that life and this was the best we could afford make sure you get better than this even if it means you have to die trying.” She muttered. Bringing her close, she planted a kiss on her forehead, she received her parents’ blessings, rejoicing the cage was finally opened she munched on the muffin. “I have a friend at the train station you can leave tomorrow so make sure you pack before you sleep.” Her father retorted, this was becoming real, too real, she wished for a life, a better life and tomorrow she will begin that search however amidst her excitement she forgot to completely grasp her mother’s concept of be careful all she dreamed about was the city.

Her suitcase patched by different color cloth patches and with only one leg she carried it majestically, her attire was the best there was in her family, her mother’s wedding attire a brown tailored dress with accompanied heels was the talk of the town back in the day, so twenty years down the line she was proud of who she was. She boarded the train, took a seat in the second branch and her bag on her lap she glared outside. She saw them, her mother in a red faded dress with a cloth wrapped around her head, her hands wrinkled and her face dry, her father in his coal mine attire, faded trousers and a short sleeved checked shirt, outside the window she waved her hand tirelessly blowing kisses till her lips went dry. “I will make a life. I promise.” She shouted as the train left the station, at this point her life had changed permanently, the train was heading for the city, where she heard the rumors of the elders of the village with buildings as tall as mango trees, where so called animals with tires as legs thrived in abundance, yes the city, she whispered as she anxiously pictured amidst the train random puffs and hoots.

Anxiety for the city filled her but it dawned at a glimpse, the man beside him carried a work briefcase, the man beside him wore a helmet a blue overall, the woman beside those two men wore a suit. It was clear of the four, three knew what they were going to do once this train stopped one would be utterly confused. No relatives, no distant friends, Salma was ripped of her temporary brief excitement and tasked with the first milestone, what will she do once she was in the city. She had a good skill set, knew tailoring, familiar with business, worked at a car garage once, as she filled her resume in her mind she pictured the fact that was there all the time, “If I made it here then I will make it in the city.”, she was optimistic, but so were the ones before and where are they now?

Bricky Ricky, the madman who owned the trash from the barber shop to the City supermarket, his job was to tidy up an exchange of service in community which in turn he wouldn’t be sent to an asylum if he was disciplined. His common friends were mostly thieves, that includes bank robbers and pickpockets, like in the recent case a local tailor shop was robbed by two gunned men. Witnesses report to have seen the suspects in black combats and heavy soldier boots run and disappear on the fifth alley, “They went in but not out.”, a newspaper salesman claimed. But how is this possible, did they vanish in thin air, well technically they did but not theoretically, when law breakers are out of options they turn to Bricky Ricky for hiding like in this scenario Ricky was chilling in his garbage outfit, uncombed hair, chewing his toothpick he cleaned his nose with reading a magazine on models when the gentlemen asked for his help. Hungry as usual, he was slipped in a copper which was equal to one bread slice and assured he will have more if he helped he guided the men behind some trash cans. “Go down and hide behind the bins.” He ordered closing the door to the building’s basement, like nothing happened Ricky went back to his magazine gazing on those women with big toes and small hands. “Have you seen anyone pass by?” the officer asked, aware that there was no chance Ricky had an idea where these law breakers were, it was protocol they ask, “No boss. Erm mind if you give me a copper. I promise to give it back.” Ricky borrowed. “Piss off Ricky.” The officer shooed him, rued why he asked the officer left disgusted by the man’s poor hygiene and bad breath that killed all rodents. This was but a scenario, Ricky earned a lot from his hiding business and from his abundant alleys he is the least suspect in every investigation.

Elsewhere later during the night, Ricky was enjoying his feast of muffins and sewage water while another was enjoying his month’s salary. Down to zero, a certain Mr. was drunk to the moon swaying with every woman he saw on the dance floor, kissing every lip he touched even a dog’s, he was happy he had earned his salary but was too drunk to realize he had used it all on women and liquor. “Give me one more.” He ordered, his shirt untucked and his collar button ripped he staggered on the bar table with a beer in his left hand, “You have to pay first.” The bartender remarked. “Well, I will pay when I’m finished.” He clapped back, stating the stage for a bar fight he clenched his beer with his left hand and his right into a fist, “Or you will take this punch as your payment.” He threatened. The bar tender tired of reasoning with the staggering lad called for the bouncer, the being with bulging muscles, a monster sized neck, a tire sized chest and in a black uniform barred the lad from the bar table. “You don’t scare me you puppy.” The lad insulted, authorized to use force when necessary when faced with a threat he considered the puny man a threat and like all threats force is necessary. Grasping the man with one hand he raised him of the ground like a wool of cotton and despite his struggling efforts he was thrown outside the bar with his beer still in hand.

Enjoying his delicacy in peace, Ricky was in between his main course when his worst enemy howled at the end of the alley, the streetlight darkened by its shadow blocking its light, “Drunkards!” he hissed. Ricky hated two things, first were dogs because they fight with him for scraps, the other drunkards because they were like dogs in human form. Hiding his meal from the nearing threat, he mushed in his last muffin and shoved the rest in a bag behind a dipper, reaching for the sharpened glass piece with a cloth on its end he grasped it with his left ready to fight for this life with his at stake. The lad kicked out of the bar began his chorus, singing on how his life would be if he won a lottery, how he would turn the house of the government into a circus and how the security dogs would be replaced with tigers, lost and drunk he crossed the road blindly and lucky enough his life won the bargain and he ended at the end of the road alive. In the barer shop alley with his beer, he staggered dragging his feet irritatingly, like most drunkards he was ready to pick a fight with his shadow, “Why do you have a beer? Give me that beer. I said give me that beer!” he ordered flinging his bottle to the wall. Picking the bottle’s neck piece with sharp edges, he threatened consistently demanding the man in the wall with a bottle to give him his beer, “Go away this is my alley.” Ricky warned the drunkard amidst his threats. “Well, I don’t go for anybody.” He clapped back, the feud evident between the two Ricky sought to warn the drunkard one last time, “Please go home or wherever just leave my alley!” he warned loudly. “And I said I don’t leave for nobody. You have a problem with that?” the lad questioned turning the weapon in his hand to the aggressor. It didn’t have to come to this, whatever happens here henceforth is every rule goes, the drunkard hot headed to make the first move flung his weapon, Ricky much more sober saw the move from a mile away and did the obvious, moving to the left and raising his toes the drunkard missed his target and was tripped crushing down. The tables turned, Ricky was on the side of the road and the aggressor on the other, the drunkard angered by the failed first attack was more ambitious to lay his weapon inside the madman. Flanging himself even faster he rushed forward and like the first move Ricky moved to the right leaving space for the drunkard to attack, however this time luck was a sleep and the drunkard uncontrollably stumbled and fell on the road. At the time he was a falling Jeep driver was enjoying his rhumba music mix tape, the music was so sweet that he closed his eyes while he was on the wheel assuming there was no pedestrian crossing the road at 1 am. As sudden as death itself was, a splat sound echoed with some cracking sounds within, it was silent, it was unexpected, the Jeep driver paused his mix when he felt an unexpected bump only to realize he had tarmacked the road with insides of another lad.

She was in disbelief, “That’s him.” She affirmed, called in to confirm the body of the deceased at the morgue, she was forced to stop her cooking for her children to come and witness this heart ripping procedure. She cried, she broke down in tears because what could she do now, she wished ten years ago she hadn’t left the city, she cursed the day she boarded that train, the cage was better off, the bird hummed in mourning. After her arrival in the city, Salma tried every job to sustain herself, from working in bars, working in unlicensed abortion clinics, underground club fights, she would do anything to stay alive let alone build that fairytale dream she had initially. All was trouble till she met him, her friend who soon enough became her husband according to the law, Harry, a mechanic at a car assembling company wooed her and promised her the world if she would agree to be his wife. With no option and the man with a promising future she agreed, the man was handsome, courteous, smart, he was a true gentleman but this fairytale wasn’t one at all. A month after their marriage he began the slight arguments over petty things, soon he began shoving her, after she gave birth to a daughter Harry became violent towards his family. Salma and her three daughters would face the wrath of their father every night, the lashing of their feet till they were paralyzed, how the scars on their back due to the belts he whipped them with, their arms with third degree courtesy of boiled water he would rain on them night after night. The attempts of sexual assault were limitless, each time he would want to molest his own daughter but Salma would volunteer herself to the wolf to save her lamb, surely this was hell.

The news of her husband’s death had impacted her life since she was now the bread winner for her family, three daughters and herself that’s four mouths to feed every day, she had to find a solution or soon the mouths will reduce in desperation. At this point Salma was given a choice, a salvation for herself and her daughters, all that was required was she sire a child for them, she would live in a good house, have a good meal for her daughters, that dream she always had was a longshot and the only shot.

“Fine I will do it. A child in exchange for a good life for me and my daughters.” Salma agreed. The deal was so now official by law after she signed the contract, Salma will bear a child and give away this child, she will never make contact with this child and in exchange she will have full financial support. Any break in this will make the deal void and that meant Salma will find more than just selling beers in a club to feed her daughters.