I was sitting in the room, slowly removing my scarf, my head pounding from the weight of the day, when the door burst open violently.
Lamia (sharply):
"What happened at the dining table? Your stance, your look, your tone... are you trying to shame us?!"
Sherry (with tense calm):
"I just stood the way he said... I don't know what I did wrong."
Lamia (approaching with a wild look):
"The mistake is you forgot you're a girl! Sherry, do you understand?! A girl! Not anything else! You want them to rejoice over my failure, to say I couldn't raise my daughter properly? That I brought shame upon this family?"
Sherry (choking back her voice):
"But I'm not a girl, Mama... not really. Sherry is a character you created, not me."
Lamia (screaming with madness):
"No! You are my daughter Sherry! I raised you with my own hands, braided your hair, taught you to smile and wear dresses. Don't you dare tell me otherwise! You are Sherry, the heart of your mother — and you'll help me reclaim my place, my happiness in my beloved's arms!"
Sherry (with teary eyes):
"So to you, I'm just a toy… a pawn in your plan... But what about Shady? What did he do to deserve this?"
Lamia (with cold anger):
"No… you're just rambling. You're sick, speaking nonsense. You'll dress like a girl, act like a girl, live like a girl... Understand? Or else..."
Sherry (interrupting):
"Or else what? You'll beat me again? Send me to another doctor to drug Shady into silence?"
Lamia (with a low, threatening voice):
"If that's what it takes to keep you a girl... then yes. I'll do anything. Because if you change... I'll lose everything."
She paused for a moment, then turned around and left, closing the door without looking back.
That woman still thought she hadn't lost yet.
I swear, the one who holds her heart would kill her if he knew what she made him lose.
And I remained alone, breathing like a soldier just escaped a battlefield.
I had won nothing, lost nothing new... but I knew it for sure: I was alone in this war.
---
After an hour passed, another madwoman entered my room.
Farida barged into my room without knocking, holding a small notebook and a pen, her footsteps pounding like a judge entering a courtroom.
Farida (coldly):
"Come on, Sherry, get up… playtime is over. It's time you learn the rules of this house."
I stood in silence, staring at her without moving.
Farida (loud and sharp):
"I said get up! Don't you understand? Or do you still think you're a guest here? From this moment, you're part of the family... which means you work, stay silent, and obey."
She pointed at the bed.
Farida:
"First rule: the bed must be made first thing in the morning. No laziness allowed. You need to know your value here — you're the youngest girl in the house."
Sherry (in a faint voice):
"I was feeling a bit sick..."
Farida (cutting her off mockingly):
"Sick? Are you at a hospital? If you think you're tired now, wait till you see what real tiredness feels like if you disobey. Second rule: breakfast must be ready before 7 AM. And not like today — you were late, and the table was missing dishes. There must be at least ten different items, along with juice, coffee, and tea.
And don't you ever think of sitting at the table again. You stand and serve the men. Don't embarrass your father again — it's bad enough he only had a stupid daughter like you."
She began writing in her notebook, as if dictating a life sentence, cursing the birth of girls — as if she herself wasn't one.
Farida:
"No leaving your room after 9 PM. No raising your voice, no loud laughter, no talking to your male cousins. Any violation, and you'll know what Saber's anger really means."
She came closer, looking deep into my eyes, with a coldness that seemed to savor my breaking.
Farida (slowly, deliberately):
"The thing I hate the most... girls who think they can prove themselves with words.
You're here to listen and obey, not to argue. Don't forget, you're in a men's house... If your grandfather were still alive, he would've broken your bones for today's mistake."
Then she turned to leave, but paused at the door, tilting her head back slightly, her eyes gleaming with icy cruelty.
Farida (in a low, threatening voice):
"And one more thing... if you ever think about rebelling or breaking a rule, you won't be seen as a girl — you'll be seen as a stain. And we bury stains around here.
Remember, you're the cheapest thing in this house."
She left, closing the door slowly... as if locking a cage around her prey.
---
My life continued in this torment for a whole week — the longest week of my life.
A week full of scolding, strict rules, Farida's endless mockery, and Lamia's unpredictable rage.
The final blow came today — my "perfect" mother beat me severely and threatened to cut my hair next time.
I started feeling more suffocated than ever.
When will this war I'm living end?
---
The room was dark, lit only by a faint lamp.
Sherry stood before the mirror, wearing a loose black robe, her hair hidden under a scarf.
Her face was pale, her eyes holding a question with no answer.
She stared into the mirror and whispered:
Sherry (in a trembling voice):
"Where are you, Shady? Why are you silent? Why did you leave me alone?"
A different shadow reflected back from the mirror, as if Shady's features were separating and forming inside her.
Shady (an internal voice, clear only in her mind):
"I'm not silent... I'm hiding, just like you taught me.
I'm too weak to fight. I'm sorry I can't protect you."
Sherry:
"I can't live here anymore... this house is killing me, erasing me, making me hate myself.
My thoughts are dark — I think about running away, ending it all... sometimes even surrendering completely.
I forgot how to laugh..."
Shady:
"I'm not at peace either... but who said running is easy?
Who said we could be free without paying the price?
And who told you death is the solution?"
Sherry (pressing her hand to her chest):
"But I'm so tired...
Every day, I build another wall between me and myself.
I listen, I obey, but I die slowly.
I've become a shadow of who I was.
I don't even remember who I am."
Shady:
"But we're still alive... and still together.
We promised each other: when we turn 18, we'll break that door and leave.
Together.
Remember?
Remember our dream — a warm house, real love, true acceptance...
Don't forget, we still have the future."
Sherry (holding back her tears):
"I remember... and I haven't forgotten."
She looked into the mirror one last time, wiped her tears, and adjusted her scarf.
Sherry:
"Wait for me, Shady... our day will come, even if the whole world stands against us."
---
Midday, after finishing all her chores, Sherry tried to relax a little.
She sat in the living room, pretending to read an old book she found on a shelf, trying to look busy to avoid orders or watchful eyes.
But nothing ever went unnoticed here.
Amir entered the house, wearing his usual scowl.
He froze when he saw Sherry sitting comfortably, his face darkening as if he had witnessed a crime.
Amir (in a loud, harsh voice that brooked no argument):
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Sherry flinched, clutching the book tighter.
Sherry (fearfully):
"I'm just... reading a book..."
Amir (cutting her off, angrily):
"A book?! Since when do women sit around reading in the middle of the house?!
Are you here to read or to learn how to behave?!"
He paused, stepping closer with slow, terrifying steps, his eyes locked on her like a judge pronouncing a death sentence.
Amir (with barely contained anger):
"Women like you should be standing in the kitchen... or cleaning... not lounging around like you're in some café!
This isn't your mother's apartment — this is a men's house. And every woman here must respect its rules!"
Sherry (barely whispering):
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to."
Amir (raising his brow with disdain):
"Sorry won't save you here.
Every mistake has a price.
And I don't repeat myself twice.
This is the first and last time I see you like this.
Next time?
The punishment won't be just words."
Sherry nodded silently, her eyes full of fear and humiliation.
It felt like the floor was swallowing her, every sound around her fading into a distant echo.
Amir turned and left, but his voice kept echoing inside her head — as if the house itself had become his voice.
After he left, I stayed alone in the living room.
My hands were trembling, and the book slipped from my fingers without me noticing.
My heart hammered against my chest, screaming at me: "Enough... enough humiliation."
I got up slowly, moving toward the kitchen like a soulless body, each step dragging like pulling stones across a smooth floor.
I reached the counter.
There, I saw a simple kitchen knife — plain, ordinary, but it gleamed strangely.
I reached out and touched it...
It was cold, but it gave me a strange sense of comfort.
My mind drifted from my body.
I saw a vision: my body lying on the floor, blood pooling around me, Farida's face stunned, Lamia collapsing in grief, Amir finally silent.
But at that moment, a voice came from deep within — faint, but clear:
Shady (whispering inside her mind):
"If we die now... they win."
I pulled my hand away suddenly, as if waking from a nightmare.
I took a deep breath and put the knife back.
I stood in front of the small mirror in the kitchen.
My eyes didn't see my reflection — they saw fire.
Not a fire that burned me, but a fire that awakened me.
Sherry (in a hoarse voice):
"They won't decide my ending... they won't."