AMARA: A Cry For Help

By JessyKen:

  This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but it turned out the saddest. I had come back from school that day, with the hopes of delivering the best news ever delivered, to my parents. I was offered a scholarship to study in any university of my choice by my school, and certainly couldn’t wait to tell them all about it.

  I rushed home that day, knocking excitedly on our door as no answer came. I gave a slight thought about it, taking out the spare key I had with me, as I slipped it into the key hole and it slid open.

  I gasped in horror, staring at the lifeless body of my dearest father and mother, the envelope in my hand dropping to the floor as I made towards them, not minding the pool of blood that laid on the carpet.

  My lips gave way as an enormous cry shot out, alerting neighbours and everyone who heard it.  

  I watched the ambulance that was called few minutes later take them away, with the mystery of who was behind it all never unravelled.

  “Amara! Amara!!” My aunt’s voice hollered in the living room.

  I sighed and got up, making to answer, as she called again.

  “I’m here, ma’am,” came my answer, with my head bowed.

  She called a second time, and a third, as she questioned in angry tone, How many times have I called you? Did you not hear me when I made the first call?”

  “I was washing the plates you asked me to wash,” I said, raising my head a little, as a resounding slap came on my face.

  I clenched my teeth and nursed the wound, trying not to let my tears flow. What have I done? What wrong did I do to deserve this?

  “You are just like your mother!” She spat. “So worthless; so useless…!”

  “Don’t you dare speak of my mother in that manner!” I gritted and clenched my fist.

  “You insolent child!” She cursed, throwing a much heavier slap as it missed my face.

  My wicked aunt, as I called her, pushed me to the chair as I fell backwards.

  I felt her weight on me, as slaps and punches came directly at me.

  I felt so helpless and cried, as she went on hitting me till I laid, almost without breath.

  I gasped for air, feeling the coolness of the water sprinkled on my face, as my eyelids slid open wearily.

  I watched the faint image of her leave for the kitchen, and back again, with a green bowl in her hand.

  I could see her finger tips buried deeply into it, as she pulled them out, showing the redness to me.

  Oh no! I gaped, terrified, trying to get up as she bent towards me, with a maniacal smile hovering on her face, as she slid a finger under my skirt, slowly spreading my legs apart, and, with an arch-shape, brought her nose closer to my V-area.

  I gasped and shuddered, feeling the tip of her nose move up and down my wetness, as her slick tongue wet the surface at its penetration.

  I shut my eyes, trying not to make a peek like she instructed, and watched her carry out this exercise for about some minutes. She withdrew her face again, looking up at me with a naughty grin carved on her lips, as she pulled my pants down a little, and slid her fingers inside of me, not minding if it hurt.

  I couldn’t hold it anymore, as a loud groan eluded my lips, sending oceans of tears streaming down my face. I was in pains and had no one to help me; no one to come to my aid, as I laid weakly, watching aunt Janet derive pleasure whilst thrusting and moaning.

  If only my parents were alive, I thought bitterly and slid my eyes close.

  “Wake up!”

  I awoke to the sound of a woman, and saw two hefty men at my bedside, with my aunt right beside them.

  She crossed her arms and, with a devious look on her face, arched forward and whispered, “You’re really going to enjoy this.” She chuckled, running her tongue on my earlobe.

  My lips quivered at the sound of her voice, and watched her give them a sign; one of the men making for the edge of the bed, as his strong grip came on my legs.

  I made to shout, and my aunt stuck a red cloth into my mouth, and with a light kiss on my right cheek, walked away, not looking back.

  Snoring sounds hovered in my ears, and I winced irritably, getting up.

  I looked to the right, seeing a man laid upwards, and to my left, his partner, their hands placed on me, as I laid in the middle, unclad.

  I shivered intensely, remembering what had happened last night and wept bitterly, remembering my parents. Oh, what a wicked place we live in.

  I shook my head, aiming to separate myself from them, as I took their hands off me, hoping they wouldn’t wake

  “Hey!” A hand clasped mine, startling me. “Where do you think you’re going?” The man at my right asked.

  I shuddered and begged, turning to him. “Please, sir. P-please let me go…”

  “You’re not going anywhere!” He snorted and gripped my hair. “You think I’d let my money go to waste?

  “Please… please let me go -” My pleas filled the air.

  He pulled me down on him, not minding my tears, as he changed positions, pressing me down with his body.

  His partner got up, and with a naughty grin on his face, and a slight lick at his lips, made to join him, as I felt something huge drive into me.

  My eyeballs rolled upwards and my eyelids shut once again, as I heard nothing else but the noise that enclosed the room.

  I was living a life of suffering… a life of agony and unhappiness, as I let my aunt use me for her own benefits, and not just as a maid. I became a sex slave of my only family – my mother’s sister! If only she was alive to see what had become of her daughter.

  I couldn’t continue with my education as my aunt forbade me from putting the scholarship into good use.

  I was so heartbroken and torn apart, as men of different levels use me without mercy. I became a shadow of myself, and was locked behind bars, with only my journal to tell my story, with the hope that someday someone will find me and put an end to my misery!



  The first African story I’ve ever written. Oh, how happy I am that the ideas came through, making me able to write this without any difficulties. All thanks to God for giving me the strength. I really hope you love it 🦋✨.


A student of the popular Nnamdi Azikiwe university. A Human Anatomy stud—and a passionate writer, with the hope of one day making the world a better place.
~Authoress Ciara

Articles: 241

Leave a Reply