Christabel. Plain Ol’ Christabel. She had saved her all, though she wished that she hadn’t. She would have opted for death but heaven seemingly wasn’t letting her. She had learnt to trust Christabel over the years. She had seen her through tough times; the hurt, the tears, the scars. She was her closest ally and she trusted her with everything she had.

After the abrupt death of her mother, the nightmares began. She could vividly recall what occurred the night after her mother was buried. Her father in a fit of rage had entered into her room without knocking, something he had never done while her mother was alive. She looked towards her door in the dim light and saw her stepfather; his face wrinkled, eyebrows creased and blood-shot eyes.

Yes ,he had not been very kind to her from the onset, but his expression at that moment was unlike anything she had seen before. He looked different, scary… ruthless. He walked slowly into her bedroom and closed the door behind him. He moved towards the bed and could visibly see her moving underneath the sheets.

“It’s just you and me. You… and me,” he rasped. He sat on her bed and placed his hand on her leg.

“Do you know what your mum said before she died?”

She looked at his face and the sickly grin on it widened. So fake, she thought but she dared not say it. “No, I do not” she said.

He let out a sinister laughter and coughed lightly. “She said that she would miss you so much.”

He turned his face away from her and for a while she wondered what he was doing. She could see his shoulders shaking, he was crying.

“Dad? Dad?” she called out and placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked at her and tears welled up his eyes. He gave her a really tight squeeze on her leg and she winced in pain.

“I loved her. Do you have any idea how much i loved her? And she gave you everything. The love and…” He faltered and continued. “She did not care about our children but only you. Just you.”

He took a handful of her hair and shook her head vehemently, banging it continuously on the head board above her as blood oozed out of the damaged area.

“Brat” He had muttered when he was through.

The incident was evergreen in her memory and nothing could blot it out.

* * * * *

And yet, here she was again, recalling the event of the previous day as she laid on her death bed, or so she wished.

The sight had been horrid. Blood spattered and smeared on almost every angle on the wall due to her struggles. She had put up a fight but he had his way. She forced herself to open her eyes, but she couldn’t. Last week’s scars had not yet healed fully and another had been inflicted. Her stepfather was a beast, she concluded.

Sarah Williams was an amazing woman and she wondered why her mother would have ever thought of remarriage to such a person. It was just so wrong. It was not normal and surely unheard of because she was his daughter. His own blood! But then again, normal is but an illusion because what could be normal to the fly could be chaos to the spider.

She winced as she writhed in pain. She wished she could push away the painful events of the past few years but how impossible it was. She attempted standing but slipped making the blood to splatter on her face and dress. She again tried propping herself up on an elbow but fell facedown on the blood-stained floor.

She laid there now ,in a pool of her own blood. She gasped for air but gurgled on her blood. She turned slowly and looked at the ceiling, everything seemed smaller and she felt as though she was going to drown in a couple of seconds.

The door opened slowly and though it was blurry, she could make out a tall figure in black that lurched towards her wielding a large object in the hand…. her stepfather!

She closed her eyes and waited in silence, hoping and praying to God for a miracle, peace, something, anything; but no such thing was coming her way. Hot tears streamed down her ruddy cheeks and then came the blows in torrents. Fists pummeled her body, her face and then something pricked her skin and it felt like shards of glass were embedded deep into it. The deed had been done again and the monster disappeared down the hallway.

She closed her eyes and the bruises and cuts inflicted made her wanting to choke on her tears. How terrible it felt, hell in her own home. She drifted away, oblivious of everything.

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About the author

I'm Dav-Oz, and  I'm the Chief Editor of The Dav-Oz Blog, a graphic designer and upcoming fashion designer.

I'm just your regular young Nigerian lad with dreams and hope for a better future.

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