New Rockville

Clearance :

It was a cold winter day in 2006, when I was sitting in the dining room with my older brothers. We were surrounding a small heater and we were also listening to the radio. A journalist was talking about a tragic story that happened in Rockville park: A place around where we lived.

'A body of a young woman was found on the lake, sources say that she was attacked by an unknown suspect at 12:00am... Cops were called, but the suspect vanished on thin air. When the cops arrived and flooded the scene he was no were to be found and no witness saw what he looked like...' The reporter said.

"I heard these news, everyone in school was talking about it." Samson said.

"Everyone says it was a ritual." He finished. He was the guy who always knew stories of Rockville. (Samson was the second born in our family and he was 16. Scorpio born on the 17th of November.)

"You always have these theories, does your lies ever end?" Abraham scolded. (Abraham was the oldest amongst all my brothers. He was 19, 11th April, Aries.)

"How do you explain a man vanishing on that crime scene, how can no one notice? I tell you, Rockville is filled with evil spirits." He added.

"That won't stop us from going to the park, to play? Life will still go on." Simon said. (He was the youngest born, before me, and he was 9. 7th January Capricorn.)

"No! Dad won't allow it!" Daniel said. (Daniel had a twin, whose name was David, they were the 3rd borns in our family, 27 April Tauruses.)

"He's not here now, is he?" Simon asked. He was always liked speaking out of pocket. He spoke fluent sarcasm.

"We'll organize a day and go." Abraham finished.

"Can I also go?" I asked.

Silence, no one dared to speak. This happened more often as than I could reminisce. Their silence spoke volumes and it always made me feel like I was an outsider. They always treated me like I wasn't one of them. It would have been better if I had siblings who spoke to me and made me feel like a person, but they always expressed some suspicious turmoil against me.

"No!" Simon said after a while, cutting off the awkward silence, but that still got me taken aback.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because you're a Mkhwanazi and this is a Mazibuko matter. You're clearly not one of us." Simon said.

"Simon?!" Abraham scolded.

"What? Don't you think it's high time this little bastard knew who he was and what his mother did to our mother?" He said, I didn't know what had warranted me such an insult.

"I'm no bastard! You're the bastard!" I spoke up for myself, Simon was only two years older than me, but I wasn't scared of him.

"You all see how disrespectful this snake is? He has warmed up, now he's showing his tail. Cunt!" He continued insulting me.

"Fuck you Simon, You're the one with the tale of a monkey! You're a witch, you're only left with a broom before we see you flying." I said losing my temper.

(If someone could see my face right then, they would use it to scrape the pots with the scowl that was forming... I was told that my dark completion made me look like a steel wool, when I was upset.)

"Stop cussing!" Abraham reprimanded. I did respect Abraham, besides being our oldest brother, he had a very dominant personality.

Samson snickered and shook his head.

"Do you agree with him saying that you have a tale of a monkey?" David whispered to Simon. Daniel could not hold his breath, he died laughing. Then everyone else joined him. I kinder joined in.

Our father entered, carrying a birthday cake.

"Do you all know whose birthday it is today?" He asked.

"Clearance!" They all said in unison.

"Happy birthday my last born." Father said. It seemed odd because no one's birthday was ever celebrated in our home. I didn't even know that it was my birthday.

"Dad, Clearance called me a witch!" Simon said.

"You're the one who started calling me a basta-"

"What?!" Dad stared at Simon. "What did you call your brother?"

Simon's face contorted with shame, "Nothing."

"Is your brother a bastard, who taught you that?" Father asked, you could tell that he was clearly pissed.

"No son of mine is a bastard you hear me?! Never again shall those words leave your mouth. Are we clear?" He paused

"Are we clear big head?!" He asked again.

"Yes." Simon answered.

"Yes who?!" Father asked.

"Yes father..." Simon finished sobbing.

"Wipe those evil sissy tears, non of my boys are allowed to cry. You want me ship you to your aunt?!" He asked.

Simon shook his head violently and he wiped his tears.

After that moment we all ate the cake in awkward silence. Simon was staring at me, with rage written all over his eyes.

I didn't care but I learned that I was turning 7. It was 2007 June 14. Two days before the celebration of Youth day. In South Africa, that was the day when the Soweto uprising happened and most adverts on the radio kept talking of 2010, South Africa was going to be hosting the football world cup for the very first time. It was a very interesting time to live in South Africa to learn of how far we have come as a nation. They often asked, "Will you be there?"

I always thought that maybe it reflected ignorance because I was still a child. I never knew of death until I learned about it…Hearing stories about a deceased girl who was murdered in a place that was so close to home, that gave me the shivers. Was I safe, living in a house that close to a place where more abductions and murders happened?

Life was pretty interesting, but I felt that for me something more sinister was lurking... Something very dark was waiting for me to find it. Something like the fact that I had an identity crisis and I had learned this during my birthday, my true surname wasn't even Mazibuko. It was Mkhwanazi, I didn't know even know why?

Something did not add up and my brothers always kept me in the dark.