Foreign: Faith or fear

As promised, Foreign is here. A new series on the blog that is centred on the inherent fear in man and the gift of faith that conquers these fears.

It's going to be a long and interesting journey. You're welcome on board.🤗

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Feeble Hands

 "Please don't do it." 

Her voice was small, and with a hint of something else to it. Fear.

Sharon Wilson was tall, freshly brownskinned and with the perfect set of limbs any award winning swimmer could boast of. 

But right now, she wasn't swimming through the pool. She wasn't filling her lungs with the oddly satisfying smell of chlorine. She wasn't feeling the confidence and self trust she usually felt at swim meets.

Right now, all she felt was timidity. Nothing seemed certain. Hope was slowly slipping away. But it's not like this was the first time this was happening.

Or the second?

The what then? Definitely not third. Or fourth...  

"I can't face it. It's hard." She said again in the same small voice that poured out all her insides to the woman before her.

"You will eventually have to." The woman replied in a firm but calm tone that challenged Sharon's weakness.

The woman. She had been Sharon's therapist for months. Precisely Nine months. Sharon referred to her as Dr. Lily although none of her real names was Lily. It was a nick, one she allowed only Sharon call her. A pet name.

It was Dr. Lily's approach to somehow feel closer to her patients. She would tell them her real names but ask them to call her by any of them or another name they felt comfortable with.

Sharon chose Lily. 

Because who doesn't feel comfortable with lilies around? Of course, that should be nobody.

And they had been stuck on this point since eight months ago. The point where Dr. Lily would ask Sharon to retell the incident that bothered her the most, the one that was making her suicidal and however else it made her feel.

The problem wasn't remembering. It was in making herself actually remember the details.

The actions. The results. The part she took in the memory she should be retelling...

"It's hard. Please." Sharon's eyes pleaded with this middle-aged woman sitting in front of her. They were heavy with tears already. She blinked.

Dr. Lily leaned forward in her chair. There was no table in between them.

She maintained eye contact as she spoke. "Whoever was there that day, is not here right now. Whatever it was that happened, that you did or they did to you -"

Both... I did something. They did something to me. 

"You can't be judged for it. And you can cuss them out for it. It's better to let it out soon than let it keep eating you away."

Sharon stared.

"I want you to know that you can do it. You just think you can't. But you can."

The tears fought their way and won. They rolled down her cheeks and once they started, they didn't seem to cease.

She felt stuck. 

The good thing about being in this room with Dr. Lily was that she could cry out all she felt till she had had enough without being asked questions. But did the feelings ever really go away? They didn't. At all.

She usually had two sessions in a month with the therapist. Each day was always fully booked for her alone. So, she could choose to stay till she wanted or leave when she pleased.

Her father made sure of that.

She wasn't exactly grateful for it. But she wanted to try therapy for a year or he would ask the school to withdraw her from her swim team. Impossible.

Sharon raised her head after a while and allowed vulnerability for once. She gave in, and let it out.

Sometimes, as much as memories could warm you up and make you feel alive, they could also freeze you till all you can feel is emptiness and bare.

Ivory Towers

Ivory Towers University. A school for the rich, brilliant, classy, unique, proud, gentle, lousy, talented, quiet. 

Anyone was welcomed to attend. But you could only really get in through a scholarship or your family were indeed rich. Even though the wealthy people in the country rarely sent their kids to school here, Ivory Towers Academy had broken the record a good number of times. 

People in high authorities in the nation now sent their wards to this locally operated institute rather than flying them abroad. 

It was a safe haven. 

The driver drove her into the school compound. Someone was waiting at the general parking space when the car stopped. 

It was Sharon's childhood friend, a chubby but four feet, eight inches tall lady. She had a light-skinned, freckled face. Her nose was as cute as a button. Black sleek hair that was almost always in a ponytail. Full lips.

As Sharon alighted, her friend, Petra Oboh stood up from one of the park benches to meet her.

"Shay." She breathed.

"Hey." Sharon replied.

They hugged briefly, then stood side by side and watched the driver leave through the gates.

"How was it this time?" Petra asked. Sharon was used to her asking this question. Sharon knew she had asked it a total of 18 times now. The other 17 times were on the phone, however. 

Sharon shrugged. "Same old. Nothing really different than the fact that I wailed the most, broke things and injured my palms." She stretched them out in front of her. Blood was absent and they were properly bandaged.

Petra looked up at her friend and said, "I'm sorry I'm useless and I can't help you with this."

Sharon stared down at her for a while before shaking it off. "Doesn't matter." Looking at her now, she realised she had missed her a lot.

"How do you feel?" Petra asked, her eyes dancing around their sockets in expectation.

This question wasn't new either.

"I feel..." Sharon thought about the water works she experienced today and how that had left her. "... empty."

Petra's nod was slow, understanding. After a pause, she asked, "I'm sure your dad can help her replace the destructions. Right?" 

She didn't wait for a response for she knew what it was. Her hands went flying around Sharon's middle area. "I'm so glad you finally decided to come here!!!!! I missed you so much, Shay!!!"

Sharon hugged her back, reluctantly. "Are you that happy? It's making me sick."

Petra let go of her and frowned. "I am so very very happy! And I don't care if it makes you sick."

Sharon laughs. "You're so cute."

"Your things are in your room already arranged. Thanks to me. So, don't worry about anything."

"Aww. How nice."

"Yup. Nice is my middle name."

"Oh Alright. Didn't you say we have to get timetables today?"

" Yes, I did. After the assembly that should hold..." She checked her watch. "-in thirty minutes time. Should we head to the assembly hall now or you want to see your room first?"

"Assembly. According to the school's map, it takes ten minutes to walk to the Gold Block from the park. And another ten to get to the Assembly hall. I'm also very sure I'd not leave immediately I get to the room. So, the room can come second place to avoid touchy stories ."

"Hmm. Someone has mastered the school's map. Good for you then. You won't be needing me much to navigate your way around." Petra commented with her index finger to her chin.

"Of course." Sharon replied curtly.