29/03/2026
💔 BROKEN BY BLOOD 💔
A Short Story 📌
Written by: AJ's World ✍️📌
©️ AJ’s World. All rights reserved.
Do not copy ❌ or repost without permission. ❌
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EPISODE TWO
At first, life in the village felt strange, quiet… and honestly, very boring. I had left everything I knew behind — my home, my school, and most importantly, my father.
I felt lonely.
But with time, things slowly began to change.
I started warming up to my new environment, getting to know my cousins and other relatives. They welcomed me into their world, and little by little, I began to feel like I belonged.
My father enrolled me in a primary school close to our house before returning to Onitsha. I remember the day he left so clearly… I cried my eyes out. I held onto him so tightly, begging him not to go.
But he had to.
That was one of the hardest moments of my childhood.
I missed him every single day.
Thankfully, my grandmother was there for me. She became my comfort, my safe place… the mother I never had. She loved me deeply and did everything she could to make me happy. In fact, she pampered me so much that I hardly lacked anything.
For a while, life felt peaceful.
My first year in the village was filled with laughter, play, and unforgettable adventures. My cousins took me everywhere — to the river, the farm, and different parts of the village. We played games, told stories, and created memories that made me forget my pain, even if just for a moment.
We were happy.
As for my dad, he never went a day without checking on me. He made sure to call regularly and sent money for my upkeep every two weeks without fail. Knowing he still cared gave me strength.
At that point, I truly believed my life had finally taken a turn for the better.
Or so I thought…
My dilemma began when I was about eight years old 💔
There was this uncle of mine in the village — my father’s cousin. He was very wealthy and well-known. He owned a large beer parlour and a provision store right in front of our compound.
His place was always lively.
People gathered there every evening to relax, watch movies, and socialize. It became our favorite spot. Even though some of my other uncles had televisions at home, we always preferred going there — maybe because of the crowd, the excitement, and the feeling of being part of something bigger.
Sometimes, we stayed there until very late at night… even till morning.
It became a routine.
One particular night… a night I will never forget… we were all gathered in his house as usual, watching a movie. The night was calm, and everything seemed normal.
But slowly, people started leaving.
One after the other, the neighbors and outsiders went back to their homes, until it was just us — family.
Since we were already used to sleeping over, the doors were locked, and we prepared to spend the night there.
Then suddenly, the power went out.
There was no fuel to put on the generator, so we had no choice but to wait in the darkness, hoping the electricity would be restored soon.
But it wasn’t.
One by one, my cousins fell asleep on the floor.
Soon, the room became quiet… too quiet.
I was still awake.
Or at least… I thought I was the only one awake.
I lay there in the darkness, staring into nothingness, trying to fall asleep. The silence felt heavy, almost uncomfortable.
Then suddenly…
I felt something.
A movement.
A hand… slowly touching my bare thigh.
My heart skipped.
I froze.
I didn’t understand what was happening… but deep down, I knew something wasn’t right.
And in that moment… everything changed.
To be continued… 💔
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