After the baby shower, when the guests had left and it was just the three of us—David, Ugochi, and me—I couldn’t ignore the curiosity burning inside me. David, ever perceptive, noticed the unsettled expression on my face.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
I hesitated for a moment before recounting the strange reaction of Ugochi’s aunt. “I don’t understand why she reacted that way,” I said, my words barely above a whisper. “It was like she was scared of you.”
Ugochi, sitting across from us, furrowed her brow in confusion. “I don’t get it either,” she admitted, her voice tinged with worry. “Aunty has been through a lot, especially after the kidnapping. Maybe it’s just the trauma affecting her. I’ll talk to her and find out what’s going on.”
David, always composed, nodded in agreement. “It could be stress or anxiety,or persecutory delusional disorder, ” he suggested, trying to rationalise the situation. “But if she needs any help or support, we’re here for her.”
“Look at you, sounding like a doctor” I replied, surprised that he knew what persecutory delusional disorder was.
Persecutory delusional disorder is a type of mental health disorder. People with this disorder believe that a person or group of people want to hurt them. They strongly believe it is true, despite the lack of evidence. The main symptom of persecutory delusion is believing that others intend to harm you or that you’re being accused of doing something horrible that you never did.
Other symptoms may include being afraid of ordinary situations, feeling threatened without reason, constantly seeking safety, always worrying. This disorder affects how a person behaves and thinks. If you dispute the reasoning of someone suffering from persecutory delusional disorder or try to convince them that what they are thinking is impossible, the person may further explain the belief with more unrealistic reasoning and tell you that what they are saying are facts, whereas, everything is just made up. The disorder can be treated with medication and psychotherapy.
“He has a point you know,” Ugochi added, “I probably need to speak with her. Her encounter with the kidnappers probably affected her much more than we realise.”
Despite their attempts to ease my concerns, a nagging feeling lingered within me. I couldn’t shake off the sense that there was more to the story, something hidden beneath the surface that connected Ugochi’s aunt to us in ways we couldn’t yet comprehend.
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About two weeks later, I was watching TV in the kitchen while making dinner when I saw a breaking news announcement of a young lady who had been kidnapped, she was the daughter of a prominent socialite. The news broadcast displayed the young girl’s picture alongside details about her disappearance, urging viewers to come forward with any information that could assist in her safe return.
My heart skipped a beat as I watched the news unfold on the screen. I could not help but imagine what her family was going through. I recalled how I felt when Ugochi’s Aunt, who wasn’t even a part of my family, had been kidnapped. It had been such a horrible feeling. Being a soon-to-be mother, I could only imagine how her mother must have been feeling. I rubbed my baby bump, thinking about my own daughter that was in there. If she ever got kidnapped, I doubt I would ever survive the trauma. I hated kidnappers, I couldn’t understand why they did the things they did. Why would anyone in their right senses, want to hold others to ransom and deny them of freedom just so they could get money?
David had just returned from one of his trips. He came down after having a shower and walked in on me making dinner and staring in horror at the TV screen, “what’s the matter?” he asked, noticing the horrified look on my face. “I was just watching this breaking news announcement about the young lady that had been kidnapped and it got me worrying about our little girl” I replied, “stop worrying about nothing. I am here with you. I will never let anything happen to you or our daughter, okay?” he reassured me, giving me a gentle squeeze on both shoulders while looking into my eyes. Somehow, I felt safe, knowing that he was with me. He promised to protect us and I believed him. After all, he had rescued me from that horrible ex of mine many times in the past.
After I finished making dinner, we ate and watched a movie together. It was a horror movie, so I kept shouting and screaming at the scary scenes, squeezing David’s hands and burying my head in his chest when some scary scenes came up. I know, I can be a drama queen sometimes.
Eventually, I got so tired and decided to go to bed. David wasn’t ready to sleep, so he stayed back in the living room watching TV. I was met with a small pile of David’s clothes on the bed. He had unpacked and hadn’t put his clothes away in the laundry. Rather than shove them to his side of the bed, I decided to help him clear his clothes and put them away in the laundry.
As I cleared his clothes off the bed, something fell out of the pocket of his jeans. I bent to pick it up. It was a photograph.
My hands trembled as I stared at the photograph. It was a picture of the young lady whose kidnapping had been all over the news. Her face was plastered on our television screen earlier that day, and now, her image lay in my hands. The coincidence was chilling, and my mind raced with questions.
Find out what happens next in episode 36
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