The Secret that Tortured My Life

Cynthia stood amidst a crowd of people, tears streaming down her face. She knew her end was near. In just a few minutes, she would be dead-and it would be by her own doing. Clutched in her trembling hand was a piece of paper, worn at the edges, bearing six names. Slowly, deliberately, she went through each one.

Richard-"I killed him horribly," she whispered to herself, "but I had to. The things he did to me were inhuman. He humiliated me beyond words. Even the two knives I drove into his chest weren't enough for the pain he caused."

Nickson-"The Thiodan poison I rubbed on his neck dried out his body from the inside, but even that felt too merciful. A beast like him deserved to be chopped into tiny pieces and cooked alive."

Robertson-"Burning him inside his own house wasn't nearly enough. I wanted to kill him with my own hands. What haunts me most is that I killed his innocent wife and child too. May God forgive me for that sin."

Avith-"His fatal car accident was no accident. I loosened the brakes on his Benz myself and watched him plunge off that bridge. He got what he deserved."

And now...

Larry. "That monster... walking around with his presidential pride, forgetting that my grandfather Damian once ruled this nation too. He has to die today. This ends with him-and with me. I'll finish my mission. I'll wipe out every name on this list, every person who scorched my soul. I never asked to be born with epilepsy, so why did they mock me, break me, crush me so cruelly?"

Cynthia looked down at her body-strapped tightly with five bombs, set to detonate in precisely forty-five minutes. According to the program schedule, at that exact moment, the President would be receiving a ceremonial flower garland from a young girl named Rita. Cynthia was determined to be that girl. She would walk up to Larry, embrace him with a smile, and in one devastating moment, blow them both to pieces.

She didn't want to kill anyone else-only Larry. Her rage was personal. The pain he had caused her back in the jungles of Vietnam, where he had abandoned her to suffer unspeakable horrors, haunted her every waking moment. If she were captured, she knew what awaited her-Dr. Ian and the torture chambers. Death by explosion was mercy in comparison.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Cynthia spotted the young girl designated to honor the President. She was walking toward the nearby restroom.

Cynthia followed.

Inside the small, dimly-lit restroom, she caught up to the girl. Pretending to be just another guest, she acted as if she needed to use the toilet. But then, without warning, she forced a chloroform-laced cloth-Ethyl, her sleeping agent-onto the girl's face. Within seconds, the girl collapsed.

Cynthia quickly locked the door and began undressing the unconscious girl, switching into her ceremonial attire. They looked nearly identical-same build, same height, same complexion. No one would know.

Moments later, the loudspeaker echoed through the stadium:

> "The young girl designated to present the flower garland to His Excellency, the President, may now step forward!"

She stepped out of the restroom and walked swiftly toward the stage. Her thoughts raced.

> "The time has come. The end of him... and the end of me."

No one suspected a thing as she gracefully approached the President and was handed the flower garland. It was 10:25 AM-just five minutes left until the bombs would detonate.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as she moved closer to Larry. With steady hands, she placed the garland around his neck. But instead of stepping back like she was supposed to, she embraced him tightly.

> "Larry, do you remember this face?" she whispered.

The President, surprised, looked down at her. His face paled in an instant.

> "Cynthia! My God... Cynthia!" he screamed in horror.

-

"Forward forever!! Backward never!"

It was the voice of President Bernard Coard speaking to the soldiers of the People's Revolutionary Army inside the hall at Fort Frederick, in the city of St. George's, the capital of Grenada, in the year 1983.

The fear of war had spread across the entire nation of Grenada. Everyone, especially the residents of Point Salines Airport, Pearls Airport, True Blue Campus, and St. George's County-which was the primary target of the Americans-was overwhelmed by fear. Many had already begun fleeing their regions to other areas and countries. Jamaica, Chile, and Haiti saw new arrivals as people tried to escape the threat of American missiles.

Among those who fled was a Grenadian woman, Jean Brathwaite, and her young son, Larry Arthur. He was a beautiful child, thanks to the mixed heritage he carried; the boy's father was an Englishman who had come to St. George's to research the nutmeg crop.

That Englishman had met Jean in 1978, and their romantic relationship led to the birth of the boy, whom they named Larry. He was a child more beautiful than his name! The blend of European blood gave his skin the color of a five-cent coin-a rare skin tone.

"This child is going to be a menace. Anyone with daughters better be very careful-this boy will get so many girls pregnant!" said an old man when Larry and his mother stepped off the boat in Portmore.

In the parish of St. George's, Jean and her partner had lived in Lance Aux Epines, where the Englishman Arthur had bought Jean a house before leaving the country and returning to his home in England when his contract ended. In Portmore, Jean hoped to live with her elder sister, Dr. Lana, who worked at Queen Margaret's Regional Hospital as a gynecologist.

Jean and her son were warmly welcomed by Dr. Lana, who lived in the Coral View Crescent area of Portmore, where she and her husband Malcolm Lana-a well-known businessman in the city-lived in a luxurious home they had built themselves. It was a very large house, and they chose to welcome Jean and her son to stay with them without any hesitation.

That evening, they spoke at length about home. Jean told Dr. Lana everything that had happened back in Lance Aux Epines. She also explained about Arthur's departure from the country and how he had left her with their child, though he had bought her a large, luxurious house.

"If he bought you a house, then that's enough. Add to that this beautiful child he left you with-you've got nothing to worry about. That's wealth right there! Your child is truly beautiful, Jean, believe me. I've never seen a child this good-looking here in Jamaica, maybe only on television. What you need to do now is make sure Larry gets the best education possible!"

"Thank you, I'll do everything I can to get him into a good school," Jean replied, and they went on talking about many things while Larry listened in.

Larry was quiet on the couch nearby, curled up with his lips pressed neatly inward. That gave him small dimples on his cheeks, which people often found adorable. The compliments he constantly heard about his looks made him feel good and believe that he was better than every other child in the world.

"I wonder if he knows just how good-looking he is? Look at that pose!" Dr. Lana teased Larry while gently touching his right cheek. Larry smiled, making his face appear even more charming. Jean felt proud to have a child like Larry. She was glad she had met Arthur, because he had given her exactly what she had always wanted-she had always dreamed of having a child with a white man.

Two years later, Larry was already enrolled at Portmore Missionary Preparatory & Kindergarten, in grade one! The day he was taken to be registered at the school, he drew attention. The students were stunned by the boy's striking appearance.

Even the teachers couldn't agree-each wanted Larry in their own class. After much back-and-forth, he was finally placed in Grade 1C.

"Your class has the two most beautiful students in the school!" one teacher told the Grade 1C teacher.

"Who's the other one?"

"Cynthia, of course!"

"Ah! I almost forgot. So that means I have Mr. and Miss Portmore School, right?"

"You're the winner, man!" the teachers joked, but that was the truth. Larry and Cynthia made Grade 1C a class like no other. Those two children were extraordinarily beautiful! To make her class even more delightful, the teacher seated Larry and Cynthia at the same desk.

Cynthia had started school much younger than Larry; they were four years apart in age. Her parents, Professor Achanakya and Dr. Regina, had decided she should begin early-at just four years old-and fortunately, she was gifted with a quick understanding of things.

Larry and Cynthia quickly became great friends, and their academic performance also stood out. Their partnership in class is what made them excel, and the other students envied them!

Their friendship eventually brought their parents together. Regina and Jean became close friends, bonded by the shared pride of having such beautiful children. They often visited each other's homes and had long discussions about their children's futures.

Cynthia's parents had moved to Portmore, Jamaica, from the People's Republic of Bentaz after her father, Professor Gulu Achanakya, was employed by an international organization, following the end of his term as a government minister.

His wife, Dr. Regina, had also decided to work at Portmore Hospital to be close to her husband. It wasn't a difficult move, as Jamaica and Bentaz had a very close relationship.

By the time she reached Grade 5, despite her remarkable beauty, Cynthia still suffered greatly from epilepsy, which took a serious toll on her mind. She wished she had any other illness-anything but epilepsy. She would have a seizure once every month, between the 26th and 28th.

Her parents tried everything to find a cure, but nothing worked. She took many medications, all in vain. Cynthia was too beautiful to be burdened with epilepsy, and her parents were determined to keep the condition a secret. Even their housekeeper knew nothing about it.

To make sure Cynthia never had a seizure in front of others and suffer public embarrassment, they locked her in her bedroom every month from the 26th to the 28th. Only her parents were allowed to enter during that time. They waited for her to have the seizure before letting her return to school. That room contained no metal or wood-anything that could cause injury was removed to protect her during her episodes.

By the time she completed Grade 6 and entered high school, Cynthia was still considered a beauty icon at her school. Her only flaw was the secret of her epilepsy-something she never wanted anyone to discover.