TRAPPED IN MARRIAGE
1575 Words
The message came like a whisper in the dark.
Blessing was in her room, staring at the ceiling, when her phone buzzed under the pillow. She almost ignored it most of the time, it was just family members calling to beg for help she didn’t have the strength to give.
But when she opened it, her whole body froze.
> “Blessing, it’s me. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t tell Rakeem. I’m watching from far away. Hannah”
Her heart skipped like a drumbeat. She sat up quickly, her breath catching.
“Hannah?!” she whispered to herself, staring at the screen.
Hannah. The so-called bride who was supposed to be here in her place. The girl who ran away, leaving her behind to carry this heavy cross.
Blessing’s hand trembled so badly the phone almost slipped.
For a moment, her mind went blank. She read the message again and again, as if maybe her eyes were deceiving her.
It was short, but the meaning was heavy. Hannah was alive. Hannah was watching. And Hannah was warning her.
Blessing pressed her palm against her chest. “What does this even mean? Where are you? Why now?”
Questions filled her head like water rushing into a leaking canoe.
She typed back quickly: “Where are you? Please tell me. You left me here. Why? Come back and face what you started.”
Her finger hovered over the send button, but then she remembered Rakeem’s men. She remembered Mama Ayo’s warning.
Was her phone being monitored? Could Rakeem see her messages?
The thought made her blood run cold. She deleted the text before sending.
Later that evening, Blessing sat in the large sitting room downstairs. The house was quiet except for the tick-tock of the golden wall clock.
Rakeem was not around. He had gone for a late political meeting, leaving the mansion wrapped in silence.
Blessing’s mind refused to rest. Every tick of the clock reminded her of Hannah’s message.
She kept hearing the words: Don’t trust anyone. Don’t tell Rakeem.
Her chest tightened again.
“Mama Ayo,” she whispered when the older woman passed by with a tray, “please sit with me small.”
The woman obeyed, wiping her palms on her wrapper. “Madam, your eyes are red. You’ve been thinking too much again.”
Blessing leaned close and asked in a hushed tone: “What if… Hannah is still alive?”
Mama Ayo’s eyes widened. She almost dropped the tray. “Jesus! Who told you that?”
Blessing swallowed. “I can’t say. But if she’s alive, then what does it mean? Did she run because of Rakeem? Did she know something I don’t?”
Mama Ayo shook her head quickly, fear filling her face. “Madam, don’t ever say that name like that again. If Oga hears, eh, it will not be funny. For now, please silence is your friend. This house swallows secrets.”
Blessing looked at her closely. The woman’s voice was shaking. Was it fear? Or did she know more than she was saying?
That night, Blessing dreamt of Hannah. She saw her running barefoot on a dusty road, turning her head every few seconds as if someone was chasing her.
“Hannah!” Blessing shouted in the dream, but the girl just ran faster, her face hidden under a veil.
She woke up sweating, her throat dry.
It was past midnight, but she couldn’t sleep again. She reached for her phone. No new message. Nothing.
Her heart sank.
By morning, Rakeem returned from his meeting. He looked tired but sharp in his dark suit, his wristwatch glinting.
“Good morning,” Blessing said quietly as he sat at the table.
He raised a brow at her soft voice. “You seem… distracted.”
Blessing forced a smile. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Hmm.” He studied her face carefully, the way a teacher studies a student who is trying to hide the answer. Then he said, “If there’s something you need to tell me, say it. I hate secrets.”
Her heart jumped. Did he know? Did he somehow see Hannah’s message?
Blessing’s lips parted, but she quickly closed them. “It’s nothing,” she lied, lowering her eyes.
Rakeem leaned back in his chair. His lips curved into that half-smile that never reached his eyes. “Good. Because secrets in this house don’t last. They always come out and when they do, the punishment is worse.”
Blessing’s spoon clattered into her plate.
She left the table early and returned to her room, her head spinning. Hannah’s words clashed with Rakeem’s warning, and she felt trapped right in the middle.
If she told Rakeem, Hannah might be in danger. If she kept quiet, she herself might fall deeper into whatever trap was waiting.
She pressed her forehead against the windowpane and whispered, “God, what am I supposed to do?”
Just then, her phone buzzed again.
Her hands shook as she picked it. Another message.
“Blessing, they will destroy you the way they wanted to destroy me. Don’t sleep too deep. Don’t eat too much. Watch your back.”
Blessing’s knees went weak. She dropped to the floor, her phone clutched tightly.
Her mind screamed one truth: She was not only trapped in a loveless marriage she was trapped in a dangerous one.
Blessing sat on the floor, her breath shaky, the phone clutched in her hand as if it was a piece of hot coal.
Her eyes went back to the words:
“Don’t sleep too deep. Don’t eat too much. Watch your back.”
The room suddenly felt colder. She looked around as if someone might be watching her through the walls.
Her first thought was to run to her parents and show them the message. But then she remembered the last time she asked Papa why Hannah ran away. The way he shouted and warned her never to mention Hannah again told her clearly: her parents were hiding something too.
Her chest tightened. Who can I even trust in this world?
She put the phone under her pillow and tried to gather her thoughts. She thought about Samuel. Her heart squeezed painfully at the memory of his face the last time they saw each other. He had looked broken, betrayed.
But Hannah’s warning wasn’t about Samuel. It was about the marriage. About Rakeem.
Blessings shivered. “What if she knows something about him that I don’t?” she whispered.
She wanted answers, but answers came with risk.
Later in the day, Blessing decided to walk around the mansion. The place was big, but she had never really explored all the corners. She usually kept to her wing, her room, or sometimes the sitting room. But something in her spirit pushed her.
As she moved through the quiet hallways, she felt like a stranger in her own house.
Then she noticed something she had never paid attention to before: a locked door near the study. The wood looked old, and the handle had scratch marks as if someone once tried to force it open.
Blessing’s heartbeat quickened. Why was this door here, hidden away?
She reached out and tried the handle. Locked.
Just then, she heard footsteps. She quickly stepped back, pretending to be admiring the painting on the wall.
It was Mama Ayo. The woman stopped and looked at her carefully. “Madam, what are you doing here?”
Blessing forced a smile. “Nothing. Just stretching my legs.”
Mama Ayo’s eyes flicked to the locked door, then back to Blessing. Her expression changed almost too quickly into a tight smile. “Yes… that is good. Fresh air is important.”
She walked away fast, her wrapper sweeping the floor.
Blessing stared after her, her suspicion growing.
That night, she couldn’t sleep again. Hannah’s warning and Mama Ayo’s strange reaction to that locked door kept haunting her mind.
At 2 a.m., she quietly left her bed, took a torchlight, and tiptoed to the hallway. The house was silent.
She stood in front of the locked door again. Her hand shook as she touched the handle. “God, help me,” she prayed softly.
Suddenly, a voice spoke behind her.
“What are you doing there?”
Blessing spun around so fast she almost screamed.
It was Rakeem.
He was standing in the shadows, his tall frame blocking the hallway, his eyes burning into her like hot coals. He was wearing only a black robe, his chest broad and intimidating.
Blessing’s knees weakened. She clutched the torchlight tightly. “I-I was just…” she stammered.
Rakeem stepped closer, his lips curling into that dangerous half-smile. “You were just what? Searching for secrets?”
Blessing’s throat went dry. She opened her mouth but no words came out.
Rakeem leaned down, his voice low and sharp like a knife. “This house has doors you don’t open, Blessing. Cross the wrong one… and you may not come out alive.”
Blessing’s heart pounded. Her whole body trembled.
And then her phone buzzed loudly from her pocket.
The sound echoed in the silent hallway.
Rakeem’s eyes flicked to her phone, then back to her face.
“Who is messaging you at this hour?” he asked slowly, his voice filled with suspicion.
Blessing froze. The phone buzzed again. She could already imagine what it was. Another message from Hannah.
- Writer
