The bed was soft and comforting when I climbed into it that night. The covers were thick and warm, which was necessary as the night was a cold one.

I sighed. It had been a long day. While unpacking, I couldn't help but feel like I was in another daydream of mine, as I often used to make up worlds in my mind where I had a different life, lived with different people, and knew what freedom tasted like.

Freedom tasted unreal. It was...different. It was also very, very sweet.

I was grateful for it.

However, despite the fact that I had left the small world Uncle Philip had created for me, in that secluded house at the end of the street, I still missed the small pieces of Ghana that I was able to know. The same people I had known for years always walked through the streets, and I would watch from the side of the house, as they went about their daily lives.

The builders who had been constructing a house just up the road. They had been there for a long time, and I always used to admire their hard work, labouring in the baking sun every day, and so I made sure to greet them when I passed by.

The jollof rice seller, whom I had secretly learnt the jollof recipe from, by going there early in the morning when Uncle Philip was still asleep, and watching her cook from behind a stool. I'm sure she knew I spied on her, but pretended not to.

I missed the dusty red soil on the sidewalks of the tarred roads.

I missed the smell of fried and grilled foods that were being displayed at the stalls along the pavements, and the shouts of the women cooking them, often gossiping among themselves about the others in the neighbourhood.

But most of all, I missed Auntie Gifty. I wondered if she was happy now. She wasn't with Uncle Philip anymore, and now I had finally left him too. I wondered if she would've come with us if she was still alive.

I would have loved for her to experience the happiness I was feeling right now. We had both been secluded for so long in that place.

I turned onto my side, as my thoughts drifted to the large blue house with the white roof. I thought about the last time I had seen it after I packed my things, and left the now empty property.

It was one of the few modern buildings in that area, with Uncle Philip being a highly respected member of society with his ownership of a famous drinks company.

If it wasn't for the dark and sinister memories that stained that place, I would have seen that house the same way other people did; the flashy property of the big business man, Mr Philip Mensah and his late housewife Madam Gifty, and the place the big people often came to visit.

And so I was relieved to leave it behind.

I curled myself into a tight ball. My life with Uncle Philip was no more...but why did I feel this strange emptiness inside me that made me feel like something was missing?

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I sat up quickly, as it creaked open. "Come," The voice demanded from outside.

My eyes widened. That voice...It couldn't be.

"Jemimah. Get over here, now". The deep growl of the dreaded sound came from the crack in the door.

"Uncle..."? I stammered, not wanting to believe who was in front of me. My breath hitched, as the door creaked open, and my Uncle's large, broad figure stepped into my once comfortable and warm bedroom. Now the place felt like a cold prison cell, with Uncle Philip standing in the only entrance of escape.

"Get up and let's go," he barked, "Don't let me tell you again".

I climbed out of bed and walked slowly towards him, feeling my legs shaking beneath me. He reached out and grabbed my arm, his eyes disturbingly wide and menacing, the pupils dilated and dark like a black hole. "I told you not to go. Did I not tell you that, Jemimah"?

The whisper of his voice made my spine tingle. I knew that when he sounded calm like this, something big and painful would follow. His grip tightened around my arm, and I winced. "Uncle, I'm sorry..." I said quietly, trying to make sure my legs didn't give way to the floor.

Uncle Philip threw me to the ground, and kicked my torso, making me curl up into a ball. This wasn't the first time he had done this. I should be used to this kind of pain by now.

But as my inner emotions already began to break, so did my immunity to the abuse. He kicked me again, and I let out a cry of pain.

"Shut up". He growled over my whimpers. I slowly backed up against the wall, still coiling up. He bent down, reaching for my hair.

Dad came rushing into the room, and immediately tried to pull him away. Uncle Philip grunted and struggled in his grasp, then flung him off of him, being much larger and muscular, and Dad tumbled down the staircase.

I let out a shriek. "Stop. Don't hurt him, please!" I sobbed, as Uncle Philip grabbed my hair. I choked up, as I looked at the emotionless expression on his face, as he squatted in front of me, large fingers gripped tight around my curls. This was happening again. The same thing that happened to Auntie Gifty happened to Dad. And it was all because of me...

"You won't leave me again, Jemimah. You will never leave me again".

"Jemimah, WAKE UP".

I lurched forward in my bed, and my eyes flew open. I was breathing rapidly, as I felt arms wrap around me. Instinctively, I shoved the hands away, and backed up further away in my bed. "Shh, it's just me," Dad said soothingly, his arms outstretched towards me.

My breathing hitched in my throat, as I leaned forward to collapse into his chest. It was...a dream.

Susanne was standing in the doorway, her dressing gown wrapped around her, and her hair up in a messy bun. It was strange seeing her without makeup. Katie stood behind her, a tired look on her face.

"It was just a bad dream. You're fine, now," Dad stroked my hair, as I sobbed into his nightshirt, still trying to steady my breathing. I stayed in his arms for a long time, until I stopped shaking.

"Jeez, is she alright"? Katie murmured from the corridor, and Dad turned and gave her a small smile, "She'll be fine. Go back to sleep, Katie".

"Susanne, can you make her some hot chocolate? Might calm her down a bit more". Dad asked, and Susanne nodded, before the two of them disappeared from the doorway. Was all that really a dream? I didn't even remember falling asleep...

"You were screaming your Uncle's name in your sleep. Was this dream about him"?

"He...he said I won't leave him again. I think he will come for me".

"That won't happen".

"How do you know that"? I looked up at him, but his deep, coffee coloured irises were sincere.

"He doesn't know where we are. I won't ever let him get involved with you again".

I nodded slowly, trying to take his words to heart. It was still hard to believe I wasn't in that house anymore.

"Jem. Let me ask you something," Dad said to me, slowly, "You went through so much in that place. As I said, I take full responsibility for it all. And I know you still have some worries about it even though we're miles away. So do you think...maybe you need to talk to someone about everything you went through"?

"I can talk to you".

"Well of course, you can always talk to me. But someone like a professional. Who might be able to know some good methods to help you move forward".

I quickly shook my head. "No. I don't want to talk to strangers".

Dad sighed. "Jem..."

"I don't want to, Dad! I don't want to". I fell back into his arms again. "I just want to be with you".

Dad rubbed my back. "I'll be with you, anyway, Jem. Always". We sat there for a while in comfortable silence before he said, "You've come so far, Jemimah. Both your Ma and Auntie Gifty would be proud of how strong you've been". He chuckled, "They were both way better than me at comforting you when you had a nightmare when you were little".

I wrapped my arms around him tighter. "I miss them," I whispered into his shirt.

"So do I, Jem. So do I".

"Shake me from my sleep, whisper in my ear and tell me it was all a dream, and you're here to make the nightmares go away".-Author unknown

This chapter is dedicated to @ice_elizy who was also among the first few people to support the unedited version of MSC, which gave me more motivation to write.