MUSE AND MEMORIES 8(b)

Why wait till tomorrow when your beloved readers want it now?! So here you go! 

IMAGE FROM PINTEREST. More creative outlets via INSTAGRAM : @blackprowriter


The familiar husky voice muttered. She froze immediately. She turned back slowly. It was Kwadwo Michael Abeyie, her Uncle and sole guardian, an ex boxing champion turned alcoholic. He was leaning on the wall at the dining table. He folded his arms, breathing heavily. His thick muscles were sweaty, he always had a workout few hours before going to sleep. He was a very tall man, in his early thirties.  His physique was muscular and athletic, donning a black sleeveless top and sport short. A white towel was draping on his right shoulder. He had his usual stern expression on his face.

‘’Hemfa were e?’’’Michael yelled, slipping into Twi. He could have just said “where were you?” without yelling. 

‘’School’’ she said, trying hard to control her heart from racing.

‘’You could have called. I was worried’’ he yelled, flinging the towel on the ground. Amma trembled. She closed her eyes tightly as she clamped up her fingers into fists.

‘’I am sorry’’ she murmured.

He stood, breathing hard. He walked on the two steps leading to the living room and started pacing. The TV was tuned to a music channel and Amma glanced quickly at it and wished she could melt into the TV. Michael walked slowly towards her. There was something sinister about his confidence, he knew she did not have anywhere to hide even he wasn’t walking slowly.

Michael grabbed her by the jaw and Amma squirmed in pain.

‘’You understand that it’s just you and me. Nobody is going to care for you the way I do. I am your only hope. Your. Only. Hope. How many times do I have to tell you this?!’’ he said. His breath smelled of gin or was it whisky? Amma was not sure.

‘’Please I was only late because –’ she wanted to explain everything to him but he was not going to listen. Instead he pushed her to the ground. The fall could have been fatal if there was not a rug on the floor; the blue rug he bought when they both moved into this house.

Amma yelled in pain. Her bruised back ached again. He picked the towel from the floor and smacked it across her face.

All she was thinking in her mind was, everything was going to be okay. She would get through this; like every other day. But the tears would not stop pouring down her face and her hands would not stop trembling. Michael grabbed the TV remote and increased the volume to the highest. Making sure no one could hear his niece screaming. 

Amma struggled hard on the floor to crawl away from him. But it was too late, he pinned her to the ground and carried her away from the floor. He tossed her on one of the sofas and stripped her jacket. Amma fought hard to gain hold of her own strength but she couldn’t. He was just too strong and her strength was fleeting. She knew it was a waste of time, this had been happening for a long time and no one could stop Michael. Who could? No one knew anything about her. She had no one to turn to.

So she surrendered her body to the assault; to the pain. 

‘’You know I am doing this for you. I am trying to protect you.” he murmured with gritted teeth. 

He pulled her sneakers off with wicked force and fought his way through the zipper of her jeans. She closed her eyes as her body went numb, releasing her body to him as he pulled her jeans off her legs angrily, like a hungry wolf tearing up the bloody parts of its prey.

It is a waste to even fight…let go.

As he grabbed hold of her underwear, he tore them with his bare hands. Pulling her waist closer to his, he loosened his shorts and pulled her legs up. The dryness inside of her was still there because she had not healed from the previous night. She could not tell him that, he would not care. It would not stop him from forcing himself on her. So as he pushed through her, she felt as though her insides would tear apart.

The last time she tried to cry, he tied her mouth with his sock; the friction caused a tear on the corner of her lips. It took weeks before it healed. So she promised him never to cry, so he could let her be.

If this was what he wanted, she would let him do it to her. She did not like the pain or the reminder that this was after all her uncle – her only family. But she did what he wanted.

Some nights he spend few seconds on top of her, some nights he tied her down and took his time. This was one of those nights when he spent just a few seconds; which meant he was punishing her for coming late. She knew this; she had been able to tell the difference over the years.

When he was done, he stood up and turned down the volume of the TV. 

“My house, my rules. Don’t ever come back home late” he whispered into her ears.

He walked into his bedroom and locked the door behind him.

She tried to open her eyes but she could not because the darkness was pulling her away. She tried to stand up on her feet, but she was not as strong as she once was.

So she let the darkness take her and slowly she slumped on the blue rug.

Thank you for reading. 

Susanah. Xx.

Advertisements

9 thoughts on “MUSE AND MEMORIES 8(b)

Add yours

  1. The anger in my heart right now ehn…lemme sha continue to read and await nemesis to catch up with that wicked man that call himself “Uncle”…

    Welldone, Susan

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: