The suffocating darkness of the room engulfed me, consuming my hope. Shadows danced, whispering sinister secrets. The air hung stale and heavy, tinged with the smell of dampness and decay, as if the room itself had decayed alongside my spirit.
"Daddy! I’m sorry! I am so sorry! I won't do it again!" I banged on the iron gate, my voice echoing in the darkness. No reply came from the other side of the gate.
I scoffed, massaging my knuckles, which had become bruised and broken. What did I expect? Wiping away tears, I assessed my surroundings. I raised my hand, searching for something, anything, to hold on to. There was nothing.
My heart pounded, panic gripped me, squeezing tighter with each passing second. Tremors coursed through my body, betraying my composure.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I muttered, preparing to resume searching. Something heavy landed in my pockets. I shoved my hands inside, hoping for a lighter.
It was a lighter! I kissed it with a big smile spreading across my face. My sneaky sister, Rebecca, had slipped it into my pockets while tending to the injury on my forehead. I closed my eyes, still feeling the pain. Could she have guessed that Father would bring me here?
The lighter emitted a scratching sound, casting a soft, orangey flame. In its glow, I could only see my shadow. “What is this place?” I wondered aloud. Raising the lighter, I noticed an iron rod protruding from the ceiling—a support for a fan. There was a bulb, too. Turning to the right, I spotted a switch.
I turned it on, and the light bulb fluttered, sending out eerie shadows that made fun of my situation.. The cold, solid floor beneath my unprotected feet gave me goosebumps. Its blank walls seemed to press in on all sides, oppressive.
My mind raced, searching for answers and an escape from this nightmare. How did I end up here? I was meticulous and careful, not prone to such mistakes. Yet here I was, trapped in this hole.
How could I let this happen? Fear and self-loathing intertwined, threatening to consume me.
Tears welled up, a silent scream reverberating within. The pain of betrayal and my helplessness weighed on me, burdening my soul. It felt as if my very essence had been shattered, lost in the darkness.
I have to find a way out, rise from this darkness, and reclaim my freedom. I scanned my surroundings.
The room lacked windows but had a single gate. There was no bed, only a dirty mat and a Bible.
“Just great. Maybe Jesus will save me from this mess.” I rolled my eyes, suppressing the urge to toss the Bible aside and lie on the mat. So, that’s what I did.
This marked my first act of disobedience. I had always been obedient and submissive, never questioning and always doing as Father said without complaint. I was what you would call the apple of my father’s eye. With brown hair, light skin, brown eyes, and pink lips, I embodied his ideal.
Our mother was dark-skinned with black hair. Michael and I took after Father, while Rebecca and Jonathan resembled Mother. Did you think I woke up one morning and changed? No.
I had contemplated it for some time. Lowering the lighter to the mat, I checked for cockroaches and rats before lying down.
If I were the apple of Father’s eye, why would he do this to me? I grimaced, thinking of my grandmother and mother standing by. What could they say? They were just as weak. And I had inherited that weakness, too.
Perhaps if I prayed, God would take away this weakness. Playing with the lighter, I revelved in its soft glow. I repeated the action, smiling at the scratching sound.
Was this my punishment for wanting what I desired? Being locked up? Just that? It's simple, then.
Could I allow myself to have boyfriends? Could I ask Pastor Timi out? I grinned at the thought. Would I end up here?
Could I close my bedroom door for over thirty minutes? Change songs during devotions? Wear what I want for Sunday service? Would that land me here? Could I demand things without being stopped? Would I end up here?
“Rachel,” a voice called from the other side. I jolted up from the mat. “Rebecca, is that you?”
“Did you like my present? Daddy plans to leave you there until tomorrow morning.”
“What? But I did nothing wrong! I only made some mistakes. Please don’t let him do this. Tell Jonathan to do something.” I pleaded. There's no way I'd stay here overnight.. I know I did nothing wrong.
Rebecca sighed. “Look, I’ve been there for three days myself.”
I gasped in shock. My younger sister, only sixteen, was daring. Was I making a mistake by acting docile? “Three days? What did you do?” It couldn’t be for that insignificant incident—the day she giggled during the morning's devotion.
“Something I’ll never do again. Laugh during morning devotion. I remembered what my friend said at school, and before I could stop myself, I laughed.” Sadness tinged her voice. My poor, brave sister.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca. How can I get out of this mess?”
“Mommy said I should tell you she dug a hole in the room when Daddy was away. It’s where we’ll pass your food until the morning. You wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t told you. Everyone said you should stay strong.” Rebecca whispered, glancing behind her to see if Father was approaching. I know this because I imagined her doing it.
“Mommy said I should tell you to be strong, my poor Rachel.” Rebecca mimicked Mother’s voice, and I bit my lower lip until I tasted copper.
“I’m not poor... I’m just eighteen and stupid.” I turned towards the food hole. Lunch would come through it. I went back to the mat with these ideas in mind.. As I was about to lie down, an idea struck me.
The familiar scratching sound echoed, and I brought the flame closer to the edge of the mat.
If I blew this place up, then I wouldn’t end up here.
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Oderah
YOU ARE READING
All The Dark Little Things
Mystery / ThrillerThe Bishop family's dinner takes a dark turn when David Bishop, the head of the family, chokes on his meal and tragically passes away. A troubling question hangs over the family: who caused his death? Rachel, his daughter, is thrust into a gripping...
