INSECURE (On Hold)

Chapter 7

"How do you heal wounds when its not the skin but the heart thats scarred?"

Ayani

I was standing on a beach.
Palm trees and green shrubs were visible from left to right. The blue sea stretched as far as the eye can see. The sunlight reflected off its surface, making it appear smooth and undisturbed.

I looked down at my feet, partly submerged in white white sand. Tiny little waves lapped at my toes, the bright red nail polish contrasting beautifully with the whiteness of the sand. My feet looked so small on the vast expanse of sand grains.

'Aya'

I heard someone call my name. I turned around towards the sound to see a middle aged man who was waving at me. He motioned for me to come over to where I could see a blanket spread across the ground and a woman sitting on it.

I took small steps toward them only to stop at the voice of the man.

'Bring your toys Aya. The waves might sweep them away.'

He pointed behind me and I was confused.

Why do I have toys?

Puzzling over it I picked up a spade and a small bucket half filled with sand and walked ashore. As I got closer to the man I couldnt help but feel short. The man was so tall I only reached his waist.

He must be seven feet in the least.

As soon as I dumped the toys onto the blanket I was swooped up into a pair of strong arms. I gasped as the position gave me a clear view of his features.

Dark brown eyes.
Short black hair.
A dimple on his left cheek.
The scar on his left brow stood out against his otherwise dark skin.

I had no doubt about who this man was.
He had once been my heaven from storms.
My legs when I couldn't walk.
My voice when I couldn't talk.
He had been my role model.

That was years ago. When I was still a child.

I still remember the day he got promoted. He came home late and I was sitting on the porch steps with my ball. He had promised to teach me how to play football.

As a child I was not much into girl stuff. Being around boy cousins all through holidays made me love their adrenaline filled ways. My dad used to call me his 'little spit fire' because I acted like a boy most of the times.

When most girls are playing tea parties I was outdoors, either racing or playing goalie.
Which was why I practically forced my dad to buy me a football. I wanted to play on the field. Not just get pelted with sand and kicks.

You can guess how disappointed I was when the sun went down and he was still at work.

When he came home with take out and flowers I thought it was an apology. He must have felt bad for missing our afternoon activities.

I skipped after him with a goofy smile on my face only for it to be ripped clean of my face when he announced that he had been promoted to assistant to the CEO.
I was just old enough to know that it meant I wouldn't be seeing him as much as I used to before. He might miss holidays and might not be home most of the time.

The pay was good. That didn't mean he must miss all the holidays and practically live in the office.
He was respected and  rich. In turn he lost respect from his own child. His richness was nothing compared to warm hugs and smiles.
He started to forget he had a family. A child.

An only child.

A child who worshipped him was left alone in an empty house with a mother who was too busy with her friends and studies to check on her.

All those memories made me feel sick and suddenly I wanted out of his arms. He had no right to hold me like that after leaving me alone for as long as he did. Nor had he the right to look so happy when I was becoming empty inside.

I jumped down from his arms. I could see the confusion in his eyes. The woman lifted her head at the commotion.
Her eyes held nothing. No emotions. No feelings. How had I not seen it before. She never loved me.

The man who used to be my 'dad' reached out to me. I backed away. I could feel my lips pulling into a pout, the telltale sting of tears in my eyes. He might think it was just another one of my tantrums. 
Yes, I was small but, I had a much more complex mind. Even though I was only three and a half foot in height my mind reached further than that.

I wanted him to understand. That there was no excuse for abandoning his child.

I wanted him to feel what I felt.

I wanted him to make an effort.
I wanted him to run after me.

I turned back walking towards the sea. The water was waist deep when I stopped. I strained my ears for the sound of splashing water. Any sign that my dad did follow me.

I was met with silence. Complete and utter silence.

I turned around, feeling hollower than I had been before.
How could he not see the plea in my eyes. How could he not hear my silent request.

Come and play with me.
Teach me how to swim.
Take me up into his arms.
Let me feel his love.

His love was the only positivity in our house. I never knew the warm embrace of a mother. It was always my dad.

My eyes were focused on him and her. They were sitting there as if they had not seen me a second ago.

As if I didn't exist.

I gasped suddenly, as I felt the sea water reach my neck. It was rising higher and higher. I could feel adrenaline rushing in my veins accompanied by the sound of the rushing water.

I reached out.

Look here. Please look. Just once. I need your help. Please.

The pleas where in my head. I opened my mouth to voice them but, as soon as I did, it was filled with salty water.

I kept hoping that he would turn and see his daughter before she was lost forever.

He never did.

My last coherent thought was the image of him, too blurred to make sense of and too far to reach out to.

<3<3<3<3

A loud noise woke me up. I sat up in my bed and turned the alarm off. It was still dark outside.

My hands pressed to my chest, my thin night shirt was damp with sweat and my heart thudded erratically against my ribcage.

I found it difficult to breathe and I was reminded of the dream.

The burning in my eyes, my lungs.

My heart.

A/N.
Hey lovelies! A long chapter for you🤗.
Hope this chapter was interesting to read.
Our dear Ayani is deeply traumatised. 😞
She needs help.
Who will be her guardian?🤔

DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT.