The First House
282 Words
The dusty roads of Kano welcomed Mirha back with a heavy, oppressive heat. The city felt smaller, darker a place that had changed without her and yet remained painfully the same.
Her stepmother greeted her with thinly veiled contempt. “You’re late,” she said sharply. “There’s work waiting for you.”
Mirha had no time to rest or grieve. She was sent to Abuja to work as a housemaid in a wealthy family’s mansion. It was a new world one of polished floors, chandeliers, and servants who treated her like an invisible shadow.
The lady of the house was cold and demanding, but the worst was yet to come.
Fahd, The Boss’s Son
Fahd was everything Mirha feared handsome, arrogant, and used to getting what he wanted.
He watched her with unsettling interest, his eyes lingering longer than they should, his smiles never reaching kindness.
At first, Mirha tried to ignore him. She kept to her duties, scrubbing floors and preparing meals, avoiding the rooms where Fahd lounged with his friends.
But one evening, in the dim pantry, Fahd cornered her.
“Why do you run?” he sneered. “I just want to talk.”
Mirha’s heart pounded. She stepped back, her voice trembling, “Please, leave me alone.”
Fahd laughed cruelly, reaching out to grab her arm.
Escape in the Rain
Fear surged through Mirha’s veins. With a burst of strength, she wrenched free and dashed toward the front door.
The night was thick with rain, soaking her clothes and blurring the world.
She ran barefoot through the muddy streets, heart hammering, lungs burning.
She didn’t stop until the mansion’s lights were far behind her.
- Writer
