Azariah - God Has Helped

Chapter 4

Life had been nothing but a rollercoaster. Kiara was tired—tired of being trapped inside this mental closet she had built to survive. Two years had passed since she had been violated, betrayed, and abused, yet the memories were still sharp as daylight. She often hid behind her neighbor's walls and cried until her body trembled. Those walls became her confidants; they listened without judgment, held her pain without complaint. She liked that...

Tears drenched her face as she sat with her back pressed against the wall, nibbling on her nails while her tear ducts displayed their unwanted talent. She felt empty, lost. She longed for closure, but she couldn't possibly tell her mother—Kiara was certain she would not be believed.

So she kept silent. For two long, suffocating years.

But lately, the silence felt like it was driving her insane. She wanted to explode. She wanted someone—anyone—to share the weight of her pain. Someone who would truly listen and help her keep going.

Her thoughts shattered when she heard her brother calling her name. Her body froze. Oh God... he was getting closer, and her tears were betraying her. He would see her like this—broken—and she knew she would have no choice but to speak.

She wiped her face quickly, but the tears kept returning, stubborn and unrelenting.

When her brother finally saw her, he stopped in his tracks. She felt it—his shock, his confusion. His eyes widened, searching her face, then searching her soul. She knew what was coming next. Questions. Questions she wasn't sure she could answer.

She used her shirt to dry her face. Looking away from her brother's gaze was the only thing she could manage—his stare was too sharp, too deep. It felt as if he were searching her soul.

"Kiara, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She sat there silently, unable to speak. She just stared.
He was her favorite brother—she knew she could confide in him, but the words felt trapped inside her chest.

His face tightened with anger when she hesitated. She breathed heavily, trying to steady herself, and finally made her decision.

"He... touched me," she whispered, tears rolling down her beautiful brown face.

"What? Who touched you? And when?" he asked, shocked. He took her hands gently, urging her to continue.

Kiara bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. "Paul touched me... he t‑touched me," she cried, choking on the words.

He could feel his anger rising—his ears burned, his face reddened. Kiara wasn't sure if he was angry with her or with Paul, but she knew he was furious. Her tears flowed harder, and a strange calm washed over her when she saw his eyes fill with tears too. When they finally fell onto her skin, she wanted to hug him and sob into him, but she needed him to understand fully.

"Kiara... when did Paul do this to you?" he asked, now crying uncontrollably.

"Two years ago," she whispered. Her body shook. Her breathing came in short bursts. She felt like she was breaking.

He couldn't speak. He wiped his tears, but his expression shifted—grief melting into rage, sorrow twisting into hatred.

Kiara froze.
Why was he suddenly so angry?
Did he think she was lying?
Was he angry at her?

The questions tormented her until she felt his grip tighten around her wrist. He yanked her so hard she felt the blood stop moving through her arm.

What was he doing?

As if hearing her thoughts, he spoke through clenched teeth.
"Kiara, Mommy has to know this. And he has to pay. You won't suffer anymore—he has to pay."