The year is 2018 and I am sixteen years old. I have had a difficult upbringing, I lost my mum when I was six, and my father got married when I was seven which makes me believe that he doesn't give a flying shit about my mum. I am not surprised though, he doesn't care about me either and neither does the goody two shoes he got married to. I used to see my stepmother before she got married to my dad; she was his secretary then. Many a night, I couldn't fall asleep because I knew deep inside me that my dad and his wife killed my mum. I didn't confront him about it though, until one night.
My dad is wealthy. Every kid wants to be in my shoes but unknown to them, I would willingly trade places with the poorest kid out there. I can remember my mum, how she used to braid my hair, dress me up and wrap me up in her hands, then suddenly she wasn't there anymore. Initially, I thought she was just travelling and would be back soon, but when the secretary came in and took her place, I knew something was wrong, and I asked my dad.
"Your mum is dead and I have a new wife who you must respect, and treat like your mum." He said nonchalantly.
"But she is not my mum," I stated, but he just gave me a hard stare.
"Now she is."
That was the end of that conversation. Eventually, I realized my mum is dead and that I have a beastly new mother. I am grateful she didn't insist on me referring to her as "mum" because according to her, she doesn't want to become a mother to a brat she didn't give birth to.
The next few years of my life were horrible. My dad was content with ignoring me. Oh, he does pay for my school fees, buy me clothes and all the luxuries that can be bought with money for someone as rich as Croesus, but I wasn't satisfied. I know some people will see me as an ingrate, but I just wanted him to acknowledge me as his and not as the daughter he needed to shower his wealth upon in order for people to realize how rich he was.
My stepmother didn't have a child and she blamed me for this. I was surprised when she accused me of sealing her womb, thereby preventing her from conceiving because I am a witch who wants to kill her the same way I killed my mother. I do not like it when someone insults my mum even though she's dead and I told her so.
"When my mum was alive you were just a secretary, but I am not surprised that you took the chance to sneak your way into this house when she died because you're nothing but a slut." I was shocked when those words escaped from my mouth, as I have never said anything so crass in my life. Maybe it's because I was sixteen now and not the eight-year-old girl she pushed around.
Her face was ghost white as she stared at me as if I had developed two heads. "Did you just said that to me? How dare you?" She rushed forward as if to strike me but I reached forward and caught her hand. "Don't you dare lay your filthy hands on me. I am done being the victim." I yelled and flung her hand aside. "For years you'd maltreated me, made my life miserable, made sure that I remember that my father neither cared about my mother nor me, but I am done with all that. I am grateful you have no child because this is surely God's way of punishing you for all that you did to me. I am not a child anymore and I refuse to be bullied, not anymore." I ran out of the sitting room without a backward glance.
When my dad got back home that night, I was called into his room. Suffice to say, my step-mom told him I had insulted and slapped her, going so far as to call her barren. I didn't bother to clarify matters or deny the allegations leveled against me.
"What have you to say for yourself?" He asked in his deep baritone.
I shook my head. "I have nothing to say, Sir," The force of a slap had me stumbling to the ground, my hand pressed to my burning cheek.
"How dare you?" He roared. "How dare you refer to her as being barren? I have always known you would come to no good, just like your mother." He sneered.
I tried to drag myself up. "Don't bring my mother into this, " I muttered weakly.
I got another slap which jarred my face to the side.
"Your mother had been nothing but trouble since the first day I met her. She got pregnant and couldn't get rid of it like other women her age do, no, she didn't. Instead, she insisted on having you, going to my mother who accepted her joyously and then I had no choice other than to marry her which I did. You look so much like her that I feel like strangling every time I look at you. You are nothing but trouble and I will not have you insult my wife, or else..."
"You will kill me just like you killed my mother." It wasn't a question but a statement. "That was what you wanted to say isn't it Dad? You and your wife will kill me the same way you killed my mother. You are a murderer!!!" I screamed.
The next thing I knew I was on the floor, writhing in pain as he kicked and stepped on me, all the while yelling "You little bitch."
I must have passed out because when I gained consciousness I was in a dark room, tied to a chair. I tried to break free but the ropes only bit harder into my skin. I tried to calm down as I concentrated on slowing my breathing. It wouldn't do me any good if I don't still my racing heartbeat. After a few minutes, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness and I could make out a large wardrobe in one corner. Apart from the wardrobe and the chair I was tied to, there was no other furniture in the room.
I wondered what could be in there. I heard footsteps and I closed my eyes. Maybe if I pretended to still be unconscious I will be able to learn where I was and what was going to happen to me.
The door opened and even in the dark, I could tell it was my dad as I managed a quick peek under my lashes. I felt a hand on my face. "Now that you are here I can't let you leave. I will have to use you too." I resisted the urge to open my eyes and ask him what he meant.
He loosened the rope tying me to the chair. "Tying you here wouldn't make a difference. You have few hours left."
When he had closed the door behind him and turned the key in the lock, she stood up and looked around. What was that? He had thought she was still unconscious and had said that he would have to use her. Use her for what? And what does he mean by "use you too?" That means there's someone he used before and she would be the next victim. Another thing came to her mind, "you have few hours left." Her father is going to kill her! Is that even possible, he would kill her just because she made him furious? She went to the window and peeked out. This is her house; her father's house. How come she's never been in this room? Then she remembered. There is a room in the house her father forbids anyone from entering, not even his dearest wife comes in here. Why did he bring her here and what is in that wardrobe?
She moved towards the ominous thing, her heart pounding and she doesn't even know why. What is there to be scared of a piece of wood? She tentatively touched it, pulling her hand back as if it burned her.
She felt strange. Her hair raised on end, her body started crawling and her breath started coming in heavy pants. She grabbed the handle and then pulled.
She stumbled back, her hand clapped on her mouth, her eyes bulging out of her socket.
Her mother is in there.
"Mum?" She remembered her mother vividly from the few pictures of her still in the house. "Mum," she called louder but no reply came.
The woman who used to be her mum is kneeling inside the wardrobe with a calabash adorned with cowries and charms on her head. Her eyes were opened wide but staring into nothingness. She was dressed in a red wrap which was tied under her armpits. Next to her sat a stool covered in a red cloth and a smaller covered calabash was placed on it.
For a moment she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. Her mother, on her knees, dressed in red, a calabash on her head, her eyes staring lifelessly at her. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs. Her father isn't wealthy after all, he did a money ritual and he had used her mother to do it. Suddenly, the gravity of his earlier words came to her. He wants to use her just as he had used her mother and she had a few hours left because she would also become a money making machine for him. Her mother is the source of his wealth, he used her so he could become rich. Tears unbidden swelled up in her eyes and spilled over. She sat down on the ground and wept.
For how long she sat there she had no idea until she heard footsteps. Quickly, she got on her feet and shut the wardrobe and tiptoed to the door. She placed herself in a way that whoever comes in will not see her and then she would make her escape.
The door opened and in came her father, with a small calabash in his hand. As soon as he stepped in, she shoved him with all her strength and then sprinted out of the room. She didn't stop to check if he is after her or not. It was dark outside but she didn't care. She ran through the house until she was at the gate.
The gateman was shocked to see her. "Lara, how did you get in here? Your dad told me you have gone to see your mother's parents, that you left after he sent me on an errand."
Her thought was to run out without a backward glance or a stop. "He told you that?" Wow, he had thought of everything. "He lied. Here I am and I am going out right now to the nearest police station. Do not let anyone out of this house. In fact, lock the gate and stay outside until I am back."
He looked confused. "Lara, what are you talking about? Are you alright?"
I shook my head. "For your safety do as I instructed you."
I begged for a ride to the nearest police station. There were shocked to see me as they thought something terrible has happened in our house and that my dad was in danger. He is that famous. I told them he killed my mum and that she is still in the house. They thought I was crazy as I droned on and on. Eventually, they told me to calm down and agreed to come with me.
The gateman had heeded my advice. He was standing outside the gate. The gate has been padlocked from outside. "Thank God you are here," I said to him.
He gave me a concerned look. "I couldn't stop myself from doing what you asked of me, you looked so scared."
"You will find out soon enough why I am so scared." I said to him.
The gate was opened and the rest they say is history. My mum was found and as if dad expected me to go to the police, he had tried to hide the body but it was discovered. I referred to the body as it because I know it is my mother no more. Dad was arrested and I was a witness against him in court, alongside with David, the gateman. He was convicted and sent to prison. Many other incriminating items were found in the house to expose his guilt to the whole world.
There was no way I would live in a house that had my mother hidden in a wardrobe for ten years. My father did confess that he killed my mother and had her corpse exhumed after the burial but of course, this was the devil's handiwork and he should be forgiven. He wasn't forgiven.
My step-mom was arrested with my father but she was acquitted when it was proved she knew nothing about my mother's death. She never went back to the house and neither did I. I went to live with my maternal grandparents who wept bitterly for such betrayal from their son-in-law. They thanked me for revealing the truth and I was happy to stay with them. The bad phase of my life is over and I couldn't be gladder. I stopped having nightmares of the discovery because I told myself my mum got justice for her murder.