The body remembers… even when it feels like it has forgotten everything.
At first, I thought I was dead.
Not the kind of dead where they bury you—but the kind where you exist without control. Where your mind is awake, but your body refuses to listen. Days passed like shadows. Nights felt longer than they should. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even cry properly.
I was there… but I wasn’t living.
They carried me like a child.
From the bed to the chair.
From the chair to the bathroom.
From the bathroom back to the bed.
My uncle’s arms became my legs. My mother’s tears became my voice.
And me?
I became a prisoner inside my own skin.
But something changed.
Not in my body… not yet.
In my mind.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Fear had a way of visiting me when the hous
