Broken By Choices    

She was awaken by the cold morning breeze. The door was wide open. The bedroom light was on. She was confused, exhausted and a little thirsty. Her back and head ached. The clock indicated that it was 5:30 in the morning. Saturday morning it was. She rose from the coach where she had been sleeping, topless, and headed to the bedroom to get some sleep before daybreak. As she walked towards the main door to close it, she stumbled over a bottle of Bluemoon Vodka spilling the remains and shattering the bottle. Disgusted, she bent reluctantly to collect the broken pieces and she cut her fingers in the process. As she dropped the blood stained pieces to the litter bin and closed the door, millions of questions were building up in her mind. She walked lazily into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The bedroom looked like a playground; her sheets were undone and her trench coat and blouse were on the floor. She bent to pick her blouse which was a little tattered. Her phone was a little under the bed, she stretched her arm to pick it. The screen was partially shattered. The phone was on, the backlight was fading, and through the cracks on the screen she could see that someone had tried calling her 34 times. She sat there, on the floor, her back against the wall, one hand firmly holding the phone while the other busy scratching her head in thought. She closed her eyes and a whole new world opened up. The eyes of her mind opened and she remembered the events of the previous night.

Friday had begun well. A warm morning it had been. The lectures had ended early that day with presentations of the corporate relations assignment. It was a relief to complete the take away CAT that had been given two weeks before by the no no-nonsense lecturer. Jessica had represented her group and she did well. She was always the best, the leader of her group and always keen on timely completion of assignments. She loved studying. She was also a church girl as many referred to her on campus. She had a few friends, only her kind. Fridays were quiet days for her. The evenings were solemn, full of worship to usher the Sabbath. On this particular day, she headed to her room after the class. She stayed outside campus, in one of the many rented apartments. She cleaned her house and washed the few dirty clothes. She placed her hymnal and Bible on the plastic table holding the long dressing mirror near the door to help remind her of the evening fellowship.

In the afternoon, she joined a friend who had called her for lunch in her room in one of the university hostels. They had taken green grams and chapatti, a common meal in campus. They had then watched a number of movies. Time wasted away without their knowledge. Jessica did not realize it was getting late until Don, her friend’s boyfriend and other young men walked into the room. It was 8:30 in the evening. It was too late for her to go to fellowship and although she felt guilty, she found comfort in her friend and the fun they had.

Don had introduced his two friends and announced that they had a plan for the evening, a way to end the week he had added. Jessica’s friend had been quick to prepare, she got herself and Jessica warm trench coats and they all left the room. At first she didn’t think to ask where they were going, but when she had to, her friend insisted it wouldn’t take long; they were going to just have fun-she had added. It had all looked like a party. There was food and soft drinks everywhere in that room. A lot of people turned up too. At 10 pm the party started. Music and dance filled the room. Reserved Jessica sat at the table sipping juice while following the conversations on her Bible Study WhatsApp group. The discussion therein was about making the right choices and standing by them. The discussion made her even guiltier. She switched her phone to silent mode and continued to take her juice. Her friend had picked her from the table. She had then joined the others just to dance. After an hour long session of dance and hype, she had resumed her place at the table to cool off and take a sip of her mango juice.

There must have been a struggle. Something must have happened. Jessica couldn’t gather the events that followed. She couldn’t recall how she ended up in her room, how she left the bedroom with sheets undone, phone on the floor with a cracked screen and worse how she ended up topless, slept on the couch with the main door open.

Her phone rang, she woke up startled. It was 6 pm in the evening on Saturday. The leader of her Bible Study group was the one calling. It was her turn to host the others for the study. She rose from the floor where she had sat in the morning, confused, with a disturbing back ache. She looked at her ringing phone for a while, then slammed it on the wall. As it went to pieces, she recalled the discussion in their group the previous night. At this point she felt broken, more like the pieces of the broken bottle she had collected earlier.

News Reporter
My name is Emmanuel Yegon. Trained Communicator, Passionate storyteller with a bias toward smartphone storytelling. I am the Co-Founder and Communications Director at Mobile Journalism Africa. This platform is dedicated for human interest stories and features. Ask me about #MoJo