The Indian’s Bride

It took too much from me, reading the mind of another but I knew, without a doubt I could do it, only I would not do it because telepathy had its consequences. It opens a door wherein I am able to read not just the target’s thoughts but all others’ as well and that would be hell broken loose.

My boyfriend saved me from an obsession. He told me my ex-husband simply got bored with me and so, left. He gave me his shoulder to cry on and I wept and wept. He was Indian and talked to me of the strangest things. That Christ’s missing years were spent in India where the Lord learned the most magical of things such as learning how to create miracles from the shamans of the deep forests in ancient times. He also told me that he had paid for his wife’s tuition fees as a doctor and left him with a young daughter to which he was nothing but bitter although he would not say so, I could surmise from a peripheral telepathic power. He sold insurance and was manager of his firm.

I held on to him with all my might. I am a Filipina with two children abandoned but not without money. I had a series of nannies for them and among them was the sweetest thing who was a former scholar in their high school and meant to study college in Manila after her stint with us. She said goodbye to us after awhile with my youngest son and strangely, she seemed to want my son to cry that she was to leave by saying:

“Ay, do not cry.” And so, my poor son, only four, did cry not understanding what was happening. She wanted my son to miss her which was ridiculous and unnecessary, I thought.

We became friends on social media. And through the years we learnt she graduated from college, took on a top supervisory post at a department store and married. She went to Qatar and came back with lots of money and established some business in their province in the south. Obviously she was more aggressive than her husband who was left to care for their children. She had bloomed and became beautiful learning how to seduce clients for her business with remarkable photos of herself in social media.

My boyfriend had just won a prestigious prize in their insurance firm and it was all over social media as well.

Then, I noticed this woman liking his photos. I also noticed that, lately, my boyfriend had taken to working out and was extraneously fit and buff from his former bloated self from alcohol and food.

I confronted the woman and she said she never liked his photos on social media after which her name disappeared from the likes list. I confronted my boyfriend and he said she was just one of those who requested for his friendship on social media.

I cared for my boyfriend more than my husband, thus, all these were fast turning into pain in my chest where my heart pounded. My head ached as much as my heart. My temples throbbed with searing pain and I felt my thoughts would burst and that I couldn’t contain them.

I decided to give myself twenty four hours to read what was happening. Only twenty four hours because, as I mentioned, my mind control would turn to putty. I would end up reading everyone’s thoughts and my mind would be crowded therefore I would never be able to hear my own thoughts again when I had to be sane for the sake of my children.

And so, I walked to the park and sat alone on a wooden bench where someone had carved their heartfelt love for each other. I cried, a bit. And when the pain sluiced away through the runnel of tears down my cheeks I breathed deep and sought all the powers of my mind. It must have been the branches of trees above me that lulled me into a deep reverie. I saw her, my son’s nanny, a woman now. I saw her photo crowned with flowers as she posted on social media and it was easy from there to realize why my boyfriend would like her.

She had lured him to buy from her business products and to introduce her to his friends to buy some more. He liked her easily enough and bought her medical products. Then she was there as I saw her luring my son to cry for her leaving. She was very determined that she win against me, I who had no idea why she would do such. And then I saw her as a child, sitting on a corner of their nipa hut. She was nipping the striations of the floor and she was struck with a broom by her mother. She had long hair and was only twelve.

“You will marry the Indian or I will leave you to live with your father.”

“Noooo!” She screamed and the broom was struck on her leg. Later, her mother packed a bag for herself and left the hut where she was left to the mercy of her drunken father who beat her again and again each time she would not be able to provide him with beer after he came home from work. Luck was not on her side, for no one would take her away from her situation. Later, her father died of a heart attack and she was taken to an orphanage where she finished high school and graduated enough to find work with us in Manila.

Ever since then she became obsessed to have what was mine. She wanted my life. She wanted my son’s attention, my boyfriend, his friends, my jealousy. This telepathic message ran like a spool of film that reeled in my mind and any more of these images would have left me in a seizure attack. I do not know where this power came from. I had a scientific rationale for it rather than a religious one but I knew it could not be used for something other than love and I loved my boyfriend enough for me to use it at this moment in time.

I could not forgive my boyfriend after that. His reasons for being weak was his own. But I could hear her whimpering as the broom hit my son’s nanny’s leg as a child forced to be a bride. She had grown up to be a monster because society had not been kind to her and so I forgave her.

I brushed away the dried leaves that fell on my lap as I dredged images of this woman. I stood up and breathed deeply upon returning home. I told my boyfriend our situation would not work out and that I had fallen in love with someone else. I asked him to leave.

He knew that I knew because I caught their connection on social media. I told him, go to her and see if she would take you in despite being married. I would not play second to the woman just because she was married and I was not. I gave myself that much.

He left, telling me if I worked out on my body things would not have turned this way. Body shaming was something I would not tolerate and it surprised me he had it in himself.

Last, I heard, they did fulfill each other’s desire and had moved in together but his wife from India had taken his daughter from him and he was slammed with a case of adultery.

This gave me an ironic musing which left me with much reprieve that sent me laughing all about the whole situation needing no telepathic effort to puzzle over.