|Chapter Seven|
Sharon's POV:
"Heeeeelp!" she cries.
"No!" I scream.
"Shalom!" I sat up in bed, desperately sucking in gulps of air through my raw throat like I was dying. My gaze jumped around the room I was in, an intense feeling of terror roaming around in my belly.
I wanted to vomit.
The pink tank top I had worn to bed was now coloured magenta from the thick sweat that soaked it and stuck it to my skin. But that was the least of my worries.
Another nightmare. But this wasn't just another nightmare. It wasn't the regular storyline. This one was different. This one had my sister in it, playing my role. And Shalom was never in it. It was just me and my tormentor.
My alarm rang out. I jumped in shock. I slammed my finger across my phone's screen and shut it off. I moved to wipe my face, but felt tears on my cheeks.
Wiping my arm across my eyes, my body stumbled away from the bed. I sniffed as I walked into the shower. I could feel my body going through the motions of bathing, but my mind was still back on my bed.
Shalom.
Undiluted agony crushed me. What a heartless person I was! I had never even thought of what my sister would face after I had left her to suffer in the hands of our tormentor. The nightmare undoubtedly meant something.
Something that made my stomach crawl and my head spin.
Shalom is still being raped.
Delirious, frenzied laughter escaped from my desert of a throat. Salty moisture rained down my face, mixing with the water falling from the shower head. Trembling hands gripped the roots of my hair as the nightmare replayed in my head.
I stand in the doorway, helpless to save my sister. My hands wrestle with unseen forces, trying to save her from our stepfather.
"No! Not her! Leave her alone! No! Shalooooom!"
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to force down the bile in my oesophagus.
It wasn't working.
I ran into the toilet, bending over the water closet and emptying my stomach into it.
Now, I'm throwing up because of my nightmares! Am I getting better or worse?
Maniacal chuckling made me choke on vomit. My frame shook with the violent cough that followed.
I was going to go crazy at this point. Who was I kidding?
Who would save my sister?
And who would save me?
Because, I realized, leaving Lagos didn't mean my battles left me.
•••
Dressed in my school uniform, I waited outside the Olaniyans' gate for Dami to come out of the house. It was an hour after my alarm rang.
YOU ARE READING
In All Her Glory
Teen FictionAfter one full year of abuse from her stepdad, Sharon decides she's had enough. On a tragic day, she runs away from what used to be her home, leaving her mother and sister behind. She moves to another city, starts a new life, has new friends, attend...
