THE RED CORNER : HOW I GOT RAPED BY MY BROTHER’S FRIEND (PART 2)

After they left, I lay there, frozen in shock. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by my ragged breathing. My body throbbed with pain, my mind reeling from the trauma.

Slowly, I mustered the strength to move. I stumbled out of bed, staggering to the bathroom. A warm bath awaited, but washing away the blood stains on my thighs seemed like a futile attempt to erase the memories. Every splash of water stung my skin, every movement a painful reminder of the violation.

As I washed myself, I shook uncontrollably, trying to scrub away the memories, but they lingered. I managed to limp out of the bathroom and back to bed, exhausted.

My temperature was soaring. Fortunately, my parents and siblings returned home. Too weak to greet them, I remained in bed.

“Nana, were you able to make dinner?” my mom asked. I nodded weakly, unable to speak.She approached me, touching my body, and I flinched, vibrating like an electric current. “Hope you’re okay, your body is burning hot.” I reassured her I’d taken painkillers.

My 10-year-old sister, emotionally sensitive and perceptive, asked, “Nana, what’s wrong? Who did this to you?” Her question caught me off guard.

How did she know? I wondered. She always had a way of tapping into my inner spirit. Without thinking, I poured out everything to my little sister, knowing she couldn’t understand or do anything.She wept, and I comforted her, “Don’t cry, Nana will be fine.” But she had already gone outside.

When my mom returned, I worried that my sister might have revealed my secret. “What did they do? Tell me,” my mom pressed.

I looked at my sister, wondering if she had spoken. Her innocent face gave nothing away.

“I’m sorry, Nana” she said, “I had to tell Mummy. I know you see me as a small girl.”

My dad stormed out, angry, and woke up my brothers. “Tell me where those stupid friends live,” he demanded.

My brothers were confused, “Which friends?” My mom revealed the names: Ben and Alex.

My brother Emmanuel turned to me, “Nana, what did they do? Tell me.” But I couldn’t utter the words that would change everything.

Then, something shifted inside me. I realized I wasn’t alone, and I didn’t have to suffer in silence. My brothers stood with me, and my family supported me.

Emmanuel’s anger and determination fueled my courage. At 10 pm, my dad and brothers went to the police station, determined to bring the perpetrators to justice.

My mom took me to the hospital for emergency care, including a contraceptive and treatment.

That night, I began my journey toward healing, buoyed by the love and support of my family.

To be continued ! .