Saving Agnes – Short Story

Agnes

“He’s taken Mum to the hospital again. This time, I hope someone will notice what’s going on and do something about it. This has got to stop, and the people in power who can stop it aren’t doing anything”.

Agnes had heard the noises that night; it started as a quarrel. Her mum was furious with her dad. We’re all supposed to be in lockdown, but he’s been going out as soon as he logs off from his work-from-home setup. She had overheard him talking about a secret bar that’s still open and even has a casino. Since the lockdown began, he has been frequenting that place; not only is he betting their savings at the tables, but he’s also putting their lives at risk by possibly being exposed to the COVID-19 virus. He shows no regard for their safety and what his actions could lead to for the family.

Mum has been terrified ever since their next-door neighbour, Amanda, was rushed to the hospital two weeks ago. This morning, while taking out the bins, she saw Amanda’s husband in the driveway. He told her that Amanda isn’t doing well and her health is deteriorating; she’s still in intensive care.

After speaking to Amanda’s husband, Mum came back inside and started another thorough cleaning of the house. She had informed Dad about Amanda, but he doesn’t care.

He came back home late at night and went straight to his bedroom. Mum had begged him to take a shower and put all his clothes in the washing machine. Dad refused vehemently, insisting that she was not the boss of him and couldn’t order him around in his own house. Mum was also angry; she couldn’t believe he could be so selfish and inconsiderate toward his family. He had been reckless repeatedly, and she was surprised that none of them had caught the virus. She went upstairs to confront him, telling him that his behaviour was inconsiderate. Mum reminded him that she was now considered part of a vulnerable group and that his actions could jeopardize her well-being.

That made Dad very furious. The tension in the house was palpable. A couple of weeks ago, Agnes had overheard a heated argument after Mum announced that she was pregnant. Dad went ballistic. He couldn’t believe it and certainly didn’t want another child. He asked her how she could be so careless when they had never planned for this. He didn’t want to be a father again; he was happy with just Agnes.

Mum defended herself, pointing out that it wasn’t her fault. She had had her IUD fitted six years ago, and it had never failed her before. She insisted that she had taken all the necessary precautions, but this still happened. She argued that there was nothing she could do about it. Dad insisted that she could—and that she would.

That night, they fought intensely.

Not that every night was different; there was always one argument looming. The lockdown had made things even more difficult. They were constantly in each other’s way, with no escape for either of them. Agnes had her own challenges as well. With schools closed, she had to complete her home learning in the same house while witnessing the turmoil around her.

There was no escape, no distraction—just a heavy load of adversity.

Moyo

This was the last thing Moyo wanted to happen. He had kicked her hard in the stomach, causing her to bleed. Maybe it was well-intended, but he never wanted the baby to begin with. Why did it have to come to this? She didn’t want to go to the hospital, but the bleeding was so severe. She had heard that hospitals these days were among the easiest places to catch the virus, and the thought terrified her. Yet, Peter insisted. He even helped her into the car.

How can he beat me and yet want to help?

She wanted to tell him to leave, but she was too weak to fight back. The situation was only getting worse. Their daily arguments and fights were becoming overwhelming. All she had wanted was for him to wash up when he got home that evening—or at least to wash his hands—but he refused. He had been incredibly selfish and cruel.

Last week, she called the police anonymously to report that a man she knew had been leaving his house every evening to hang out with friends, violating the lockdown rules. She thought it might encourage Peter to take the situation seriously if the police turned up. She even provided the police with their home address for an investigation, but no one ever showed up. Moyo wouldn’t have cared if he stayed out all night or didn’t come home at all, but the virus was becoming increasingly frightening. The news reported more deaths every day, and she didn’t want to be part of the statistics.

This was the last straw; she needed to escape before she either died from his beatings or from the virus. She thought about her daughter, Agnes, who had to witness their daily fights in the house. Her heart ached at the thought of putting Agnes through all this, but she felt powerless to change the situation. Every day, she felt like she was becoming a shadow of her former self.

She had seen the doctors, and as she had suspected, she had miscarried. It was yet another piece of bad news.

The emergency doctor asked her what had happened. She lied. She said she started bleeding earlier in the morning. She told them she had thought it was normal and did not think much about it. However, it became heavy that night, and she was in pain. They told her she would be admitted and hopefully be discharged tomorrow. Moyo wanted to refuse but was too weak to fight her case. She was tired and just wanted to lie down in peace.

Peter had left now to go back home, which was a relief. She could not stand to see his face; he had behaved like a caring husband, and behaved like he was sad at the news of their lost baby.

He had driven the poor thing out of her, and he was going to pay.

This time around, she will make sure she kills him slowly.

Agnes

Dad was back home. He announced that Mum would be sleeping at the hospital tonight and hopefully be discharged tomorrow. Agnes wondered what they told the doctors that made them release him too. He should have been held back and put in a psych ward. He was a danger to others and even to himself. Agnes knew this was even worse for her. She knew what would happen that night. Mum won’t be home, and he could do anything he wanted with her. Not that it mattered as he had always done it even when she was at home. Agnes had often wondered how her mother could always sleep during those moments when he violated her. She never wakes up and never caught him.

He is calling me now. He sounded excited and asked me to hurry downstairs. I felt my heart drummed. This was going to be a long night. When I got downstairs, he had a package in his hands. He said the package came this afternoon. I did not know what he was talking about and did not care. He opened the package with smiles all over his face. He brought out a dress and hung it in front of me. He asked me if it was beautiful and if I liked it. He said he thought I would love it and that it would fit beautifully on me.

I did not care.

I did not want any more dresses or gifts. However, I did not say that. I would never say that to him. In the last few weeks, he has become so terrifying that I could never talk back at him. I wished I had the voice of my mother. I had heard her talk back and argue with him, but I could not.

I did not have such power.

My father gave me the lilac silk dress and asked me to try it. I took the dress but didn’t move. I did not want to try it on or look beautiful that night or any day, for that matter. However, he cast a hard look at me, so I moved my legs and went upstairs into my bedroom.

I did not want to try it on, but I had no choice.

What choice does a fourteen-year-old like me have against a powerful monster who is my father?

He was not my daddy; he was just the man who impregnated my mother and whose name is on my birth certificate. He is an evil man who has brought nothing but darkness into my life. A daddy would not be this wicked. A daddy is meant to be a protector, but he is the devil incarnate himself. I do not have a mummy either, but a woman who had carried me in her stomach. She had not been a mother to me in a long time. Maybe she could not. She could not even protect herself, let alone me. She is physically, mentally and emotionally drained that she has nothing left for me.

I heard him call out for me again, urging me to hurry and come downstairs. Dread tightened in my chest. The dress fit me perfectly, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at my reflection in the mirror—I hadn’t done that in many months. I couldn’t stand the image that stared back at me.

Taking a deep breath, I left my room and made my way downstairs to meet him. He was standing, and it looked like he was witnessing something incredible. He walked around me, assessing the dress properly. Then, he cupped my cheeks in his large hands and smiled mischievously.

I can’t vividly describe what he did next; it would make you sick.

At least, it made me sick, but I can tell you that as he drove himself into me, I thought about driving a knife into his stomach that night. I thought about the long steak knife Mother had in the down drawer in the kitchen. That knife will be perfect and will do the damage that I want. Then again, I thought about how I could not do this. I had fantasised about different ways I could kill him but never attempted any. So, that night, I thought about a new way to stop this darkness. I was going to do this to myself. I was going to take me away from him. He would not have to violate a dead me. So, that was my new plan.

He finished having his way with me that night and went upstairs to his bedroom. I laid down there in pain, not of my body but of my mind. I had gotten used to the pain in my body, and it did not matter anymore. I summoned courage and went into the kitchen. I stopped before the knife drawer and thought about changing my mind. Maybe I could have summed up the courage and taken the knife, but I could not.

Typical of me.

I couldn’t do anything to defend myself, and no one else could either. So, instead of facing the knife drawer, I turned to the medicine cabinet. I hated the sight of blood anyway, and this would be easier. I grabbed a couple of packs of medicine and headed back upstairs.

As I walked, I noticed my phone vibrating. It was a WhatsApp message from Loi, the new girl in my class. She had only joined the school two months before the lockdown started. Loi had taken my number and, almost every week, sent me links of her playing the piano and singing. She sang well, but it just wasn’t my thing.

He was not my daddy; he was just the man who impregnated my mother and whose name is on my birth certificate. He is an evil man who has brought nothing but darkness into my life. A daddy would not be this wicked. A daddy is meant to be a protector, but he is the devil incarnate himself. I do not have a mummy either, but a woman who had carried me in her stomach. She had not been a mother to me in a long time

Just then, another link came through, and I found myself thinking about blocking or muting her. But instead, I pressed the link, which opened to a woman on stage talking.

“You can be free,” I heard her say, and that caught my attention.

The woman spoke about how life can be difficult and how the devil wants to kill, steal, and destroy. She was right; my father had played that role in my life and had done all of that to me. Intrigued by her message, I continued to listen. She spoke about someone who has come to give life — Jesus, who can rescue and save me from this devil.

Agnes pondered how Jesus could provide solace when even her mother couldn’t be saved or rescued. The woman continued to speak passionately about the love of Jesus, emphasizing that He doesn’t want any of us to experience pain or suffering. There was a something in her voice that suggested she had felt this pain before and had now discovered true freedom. Suddenly, the woman began to sing. It wasn’t just her beautiful voice; the song penetrated deep into Agnes, resonating with her very soul. Her hands trembled as tears streamed down her face. She sensed a presence in her bedroom, but it was different from the kind of feeling she had when her father entered her room. This presence was peaceful and pure. The woman eventually ceased singing and stood there with her eyes closed. In that quiet moment, Agnes felt a profound stillness in her room, as if she were sharing the space with the woman.

“He loves you,” the woman said, and Agnes heard her clearly. “He wants you to know that. He wants you to allow Him to come into your life.” Agnes longed for that. She wanted to be saved and to be loved.

“Repeat this after me,” the woman began. “Lord Jesus, I invite You into my life today. I want You to save me and take this darkness away from me. I accept You as my Lord and Savior. Thank You for saving me.”

Agnes had whispered the prayer as well. The woman said that anyone who had said the prayer could call the number provided below. Agnes grabbed a paper and pen, wrote down the number, and dialled it immediately. After several rings, a woman answered and introduced herself as Mrs. Pi.

Agnes was sobbing so hard that she could barely hear herself. She explained to Mrs. Pi that she had just watched a link sent to her phone by her classmate, Loi. She revealed that she had contemplated taking her own life before watching the link. The woman listened patiently, allowing Agnes to share everything without interruption.

Feeling safe, Agnes opened up completely. Mrs. Pi asked if Agnes would be willing to share her address so she could come and help. Agnes didn’t hesitate; she felt she could trust her. The woman assured Agnes that what had happened to her was wrong and should never have occurred. She also mentioned that it would be necessary to speak to the police about the situation. Agnes did not argue this time either.

Mrs. Pi advised Agnes to lock her door and assured her that she was on her way.

*****

It has now been two days since the incident at home. Agnes discovered that the woman she had spoken to was Loi’s pastor. The message she received was a recording of Loi’s youth church service from the previous Sunday. The pastor lived only ten minutes from their house. The woman arrived at Agnes’s home within twenty minutes and called her to say that she was downstairs in her car but needed to wait for the police to arrive. When Agnes looked out her window, she saw a car parked in front of her house. She was no longer terrified; instead, she felt a strong presence in her room, as if it were there to protect her. A few minutes later, the police arrived. They didn’t knock; they kicked down the front door. Agnes heard them storming up the stairs while her father came out of his room and was restrained by the police. She watched as they carried him away, struggling against them.

Agnes had met Mrs. Pi downstairs. She told her that she had done something very brave. Mrs. Pi had followed them to the police station and stayed with Agnes until a social worker arrived. The social worker assured her that she would be safe, but they needed to perform a medical examination on her. Agnes agreed to the examination only if Mrs. Pi was allowed to be there with her, and this was arranged.

Afterward, she was taken to a clinic where the medical tests were conducted. During this time, she also shared everything that had been happening to her with the social worker. Shortly thereafter, Agnes was brought to someone’s home; this person would be her foster carer for the time being. Agnes felt terrified because the foster carer was a stranger to her, but Mrs. Pi promised to call her regularly, and assured her that she could always reach out to her whenever she needed to.

*****

A week ago, my life changed for the better. I was set free—not just by the police or Mrs. Pi, but by Jesus. I now have a sense of peace within me, and I know that I will be okay. I understand that this will not be easy, but I have nothing to fear. I am committed to doing all that I can to stay free.

I think about my mother. She hasn’t been allowed to see me yet. My worker said she had failed to save me and needed to get help. I wonder why she couldn’t save me; she was my mother, and that was her job, but she didn’t succeed. However, I am no longer angry at her. I pray for her every day, hoping she finds the same peace I have found. I also pray that she finds Jesus.

I was informed that my father is now in prison and will never hurt me again. While I was relieved to hear that, I still struggle to sleep every night. I know it will get better, and I am trying. I have asked Jesus to help me forgive him as well. I hope to forget everything he has ever done to me. I am trusting God daily.

Message from the Author

This story is for every girl, boy, man, and woman who is currently facing darkness. My heart ached for you, and I felt compelled to write this message. You have endured enough, and it’s time for that to end. I encourage you to find the inner strength to speak up. I pray that you find the courage to seek help, and I trust that God will send the assistance you need—if you open your heart to receive it. As a parent, I urge you to advocate for your child and for yourself.

Kindly leave your comments.

Abimbola Circelsoflove