Chinelo

Chinelo 🔵 Trigger warning: sexual assault, psychological abuse, trauma, religious hypocrisy. My head felt heavy, not the kind sleep fixes, but the kind that presses behind your eyes, like something is trying to claw out. Rays of sunlight pierced through the cracks of the curtains and shot straight into my brain, making the ache worse. I tried to sit, groaning, and that's when I noticed it - dry streaks between my thighs. My wrists, my ankles, every joint screamed. The room was unfamiliar, the air too sharp, too quiet. And then I heard the voice, calm, casual, terrifying. "Awake already?" I turned He lounged on the stool I hadn't noticed beside the bed, observing me like I was a piece of art, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "You weren't this mean last night". He said, voice soft but carrying a weight I couldn't name. Anger flared, but it trembled beneath something else - fear. My throat tightened. "What did u do to me?" I demanded in trembling voice, barely above a whisper. He didn't answer immediately. He leaned back, stretched and ran a hand through his neatly buzz cut, eyes almost gentle. Almost Bits of last night flickered in my mind - the drink he handed me, the warmth spreading through my body, the helplessness I hadn't realized until now. My stomach churned. My mother would never understand. My church would never believe. Everyone would see me as a girl who stumbled. Do I reek of sin now?? " Go freshen up and get out of my house. Your phone's been ringing non-stop" he said standing up retrieving my phone from the wardrobe, alongside a towel and my clothes, roughly tossing then to me. The sting reminded me of last night. My body flinched. I felt hollow, like the world had peeled away and left only my thoughts. "And I don't want anyone hearing of this, is that clear?" Clear. Too clear He turned and walked out, the door swung open behind him. No lock. No barrier. Just empty space. Silence I stayed on the bed, broken, trembling, every muscle aching. My fingers dug into the thin sheets. How had it happen? Why him? How could anyone ever believe me? Eventually, I forced myself up and staggered to the bathroom. My legs shook, my wrists sore, my mind foggy. I stared into the mirror. The face looking back was pale, hollow, unfamiliar. I splashed cold water on my hands and face, trying to wake from the nightmare I couldn't escape. My phone buzzed. My mother. Again and again. I let it ring a few more times, heart hammering. Then I typed quickly: "Sorry mummy. I slept over at Chioma's. I'm fine" Send... I gathered my bag and clothes, leaving the bathroom, careful not to make a sound. Every step felt like dragging my body through quicksand. I avoided the open door, heart pounding, aware that anyone could walk in at any moment, I walked through the wooden door down the street. Silence being my only consolation. And then my phone buzzed again Unknown number I froze. The message read: "Remember what I said. See you on Sunday" Sunday was tomorrow. And I would have to sit in thesame room as him. Honestly, what are ur thoughts?? What position do u think he stands in, in church, how would she act around him??. If u were her, would u be in church?