Story cover for Melancholy... by missattah
Melancholy...
  • WpView
    Reads 3,870
  • WpVote
    Votes 933
  • WpPart
    Parts 54
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 11m
  • WpView
    Reads 3,870
  • WpVote
    Votes 933
  • WpPart
    Parts 54
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 11m
Complete, First published Oct 29, 2020
#4 in Ghanaian on 20/11/20
#3 in Ghanaian on 21/11/20
#2 in Ghanaian on 21/11/20, 29/11/20
#5 in West Africa on 21/11/20
#4 in Ghana on 29/11/20
#2 in West Africa on 29/11/20

Melancholy(pronounced as mee-luhng-koo-lee.

              "Noun:
                        a feeling of pensive sadness,typically with no obvious cause."
                        

Her heart  is filled with pain.
Her tears are many...day in and day out,they fall out of her crystal eyes,moving down her cheeks like the water flowing swiftly in the Akosombo Dam.
She is fragile,she is weak,but she refuses to be pitied. 
Her  heart is filled with hatred for the person who did this to her,who turns out to be her own biological father,and later becomes her employer who sells her into domestic slavery.  

She pushes against  forces as society tries to sell her innocent soul into immoral lifestyles. 
She has no one to turn to for help as she,a child,struggles to take care of her two other siblings and mother-who fights for dear life as she battles rheumatoid arthritis.                              
With her heart filled with excruciating pain,she takes us through this long and long-lasting journey of perseverance.
Will her melancholic heart ever find happiness again? Satisfy your curiosity and click on that read button.


POINT OF VIEW-First person narrative.
Completed.
Unedited.
All Rights Reserved
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Anaya, an eighteen-year-old girl, is the silent pillar of a broken household. The eldest daughter of a family teetering on the edge of collapse, she lives in the shadow of her father's violent rage and her mother's quiet endurance. Her father, once full of ambition, now drowns in bitterness and unemployment. His fists often speak louder than his words, leaving bruises not just on skin, but on souls. Her mother, worn and weary, works long hours to keep the family afloat. She bears her husband's fury without protest, trying to shield her daughters from a storm that never ends. But Anaya sees everything. She learns early that no one is coming to save her. So she saves herself-bit by bit. She wakes before dawn to prepare for school, studies harder than anyone else in her class, and then comes home to cook, clean, and protect Meera, her fifteen-year-old sister. She never cries in front of them. Her tears belong only to the silence of the night, muffled by her pillow. All she's ever wanted is love that doesn't hurt. A voice that doesn't yell. Hands that don't bruise. A home where she's not afraid to breathe. And then she meets Aryan - a calm, composed naval officer who sees through the mask she wears. With every gentle word, every respectful glance, Aryan offers a world Anaya never believed existed. But her heart, so used to scars, trembles at the thought of trust. What if love turns cruel again? What if Aryan, too, becomes her father? Anaya stands at a crossroads - between the trauma of the past and the terrifying hope of a better future. Will she bury her heart to protect it, or will she finally let it bloom in the light it always deserved?