Some punishments do not end with pain.
They follow you into the night.
After the day I tried to run away, Aunt Ezinne's anger toward me changed. Before, she treated me like a burden. Now, she treated me like a threat—something that needed to be broken completely.
One evening, after I returned late from selling sachet water, tired and weak, she accused me of hiding money. I swore I didn't. My voice shook as I spoke, and that alone angered her.
"So now you are answering me back?" she shouted.
She grabbed a thick cane from behind the door.
The first strike landed on my back, sharp and burning. I screamed. The second landed on my legs. The third on my arms. I begged. I cried. My body folded to the ground, but she did not stop.
Her children gathered around.
"Beat him well!" Ifeanyi shouted.
That was when it became worse.
She ordered them to hold me down. Uche grabbed my legs. Chiamaka held my arms. Their hands were rough, their faces hard. They were children too—but cruelty had already been taught to them.
Aunt Ezinne flogged me until the cane broke.
When she finally stopped, my body was shaking uncontrollably.
"Tonight, you will sleep outside," she said coldly.
"Let the rain teach you sense."
She dragged me out and locked the door.
The sky was already dark.
Thunder rolled. Rain started slowly, then heavily. Cold drops soaked my clothes. My wounds burned. I sat on the bare ground, hugging myself, teeth chattering.
Inside the house, I could hear laughter and television sounds.
Outside, I was alone.
Rain poured on me all night. Water ran down my face, mixing with tears. I pressed myself against the wall, praying the rain would stop. Mosquitoes bit me. Cold pierced my bones.
I thought of my mother.
I imagined her opening the door, calling my name, wrapping me in her arms.
But the door stayed shut.
At some point, I stopped feeling my body. Only pain remained.
When morning came, my clothes were heavy with water. My body was stiff. She opened the door and looked at me.
"Get up. Don't pretend."
No apology. No concern.
Her children laughed as I limped inside.
That night changed something inside me forever.
I learned that cruelty could be shared.
That pain could become entertainment.
That even children could be taught to harm.
And as I lay on the floor later that night, still wet, still hungry, I whispered to myself:
If I survive this, I will never forget.
This was Chapter Nine—the night the rain and pain became my only companions. 😭