trapped in fear
I sat on my toilet sink, both hands resting under my chin, staring at the pregnancy test strip I had stolen from my aunty’s pharmacy. It sat on the toilet counter like a taunting reminder of my fear. My thoughts spiralled: What if I’m positive? What will I do? What will I tell my strict, disciplinary dad? Or my mother, who judges every young girl in the community—especially the pregnant ones? my heart was heavy. Should I run away? Should I get an abortion? But even the thought terrified me. How would I even get one? I’m just 15. A darker thought crept in: Maybe it would be easier to leave the world entirely...
My mother’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Hurry up!” she shouted from outside the bathroom door. It was a Sunday morning—6:57 a.m., to be precise. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, taking in my beautiful, modest dress and my innocent face. Who would have thought?
torture and more fears
I hopped into the car, fastened my seatbelt, and sat in silence as my mum drove to church. My heart raced, and I felt a growing sense of dread. I had missed my period for two months now. Deep down, I didn’t think it was just hormones—I thought I was pregnant. I wished I could talk to someone, but I didn’t trust anyone. My so-called friends only stayed around me because I was rich and the head girl; or at least that’s what I believed. Trusting them wasn’t an option.
“How are you? You’ve been acting strange lately,” my judgemental mother said softly. “You don’t have to keep everything to yourself. You can talk to me.”
I stared at her as she focused on the road, hands firmly on the wheel. So full of herself, I thought, irritated. I looked away, staying silent.
“Oh, is it because I threw away your makeup?” she asked, trying to justify herself. “You’re beautiful without it. Plus, you’re a daughter of Zion—you don’t need worldly things to be beautiful. What would people think of my daughter dressing like Jezebel?”
She parked in her usual spot at the church, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me. Daughter of Zion, my ass. How would she feel if I told her I was pregnant?
Church was torture. It felt like the pastor’s sermon was written specifically to torment me. life is so unfair
the fear, the truth
The next morning, I woke up with a fever and an upset stomach. Rushing to the toilet, I clutched my abdomen as nausea overwhelmed me. I vomited into the sink, my body shaking uncontrollably. I never vomit when I’m sick. Am I really pregnant? I sobbed, full of regret. “You’re so dumb,” I whispered to myself.
I opened the drawer where I had hidden the stolen pregnancy test strip. A new thought flashed through my mind, a positive one: What if I’m not pregnant? What if it’s just a normal fever? I Gathered all the courage I had left and I tore open the packet.
The tiny strip felt heavy in my hand as I read through the instructions. My hands trembled as I stared at it, anxious to know, yet too fearful to face it. I urinated into a small plastic cup and dipped the strip, my heart pounding the entire time.
I couldn’t bear to look at the result right away, just staring at it sent chills down my spine, so I set the strip on the counter, turned to face the wall, and prayed desperately.
After a few Minutes. I mustered the courage to check.
My heart began to drown as I saw two vivid pink lines staring back at me, the most ugly pink lines I have ever seen, unmistakable, damning.
My heart sank, and it felt like the world should open up and swallow me whole.
“What will I do?” were the last words I could whisper before everything went black
Thank you for reading my blog ❤️
This is my entry for hive Naija weekly prompt wk-80
A story on the word FEAR.
Image used is sourced