Denial is a river in Egypt.

A heated argument ensued in the house the day our mother brought up the idea of taking Thelma to boarding school.

Thelma was 13 at the time and already done with Jss2.

On my way to bed that night, I passed by her room. Her door was left slightly ajar, it was a rule in our house. She was curled up on her bed, back to the world. I strongly believe she was crying but I could not tell.

I had just turned 8 and did not even know why there was such a fuss but I sat on the edge of her bed regardless, hoping to bring her little comfort.

“Thelma, mummy and daddy are fighting”.

She sucks in a shaky breath, “I know”.

“Is it because of your school?”

She chuckled, but nodded softly before whispering, “yes, it is”.

“Daddy said you will go away, is that true?”

She finally turned to face me, I knew she had been crying and not in the way I cry when I throw tantrums.

“Yes and no Sharon. I’m going to boarding school so I’ll be away for a while but I’ll always come back”.

“Do you want to go away? To boarding school?”.

“Yes, I do want to go away to boarding school and away from this house”.

I wondered what made her so unhappy about our house but then, Thelma had withdrawn so much in recent times, it was a wonder we were having this conversation.

I still have faint recollections of a happier version of Thelma. I don’t know when the changes started but I woke up one morning to find she had her own room, she gradually withdrew and now we hardly said anything to each other in the house, she barely even had a smile for me anymore.

Boarding school did not make Thelma happier but it did make the distance between us worse.

Now, I chalk it up to a lack of knowledge. You know when you want to do something but you don’t know how so you just let it go? I believe the both of us let the chasm grow because we did not know how to bridge the gap and we were too ashamed to ask for help.

“Are you okay?”, she asked me.

I look at her without looking at her, we could never seem to meet each others eyes these days. Years had passed and now Thelma was gearing up to go to university, from all indications she would not be coming back this time.

Our parents fought yesterday, they had been fighting for weeks after our mum suggested that I’m ripe for boarding school.

I wanted to tell her, but I wasn’t sure how to. I wondered if she knew, if that was why she wanted the sweet escape of boarding school.

Was it the same for her? Did she also have this same nightmare I keep having every night of our father in my bed, telling me it’s gonna be okay and forcing himself between my thighs.

It would always feel unreal because the memories were unclear but the pain in between my legs were a reminder that I wasn’t dreaming.

I look at the bowl of cereal before me and swallow a spoonful forcefully, “yes, I’m fine”.

She fiddles with her fingers, still unable to meet my eyes, “they’re fighting over you now”.

“Looks like it”, I mutter.

“Do you want to go to boarding school?”

“Yes, I do want to go away to boarding school and away from this house”.