# Chapter 2: Weight of My Secrets
Her bite made me remember the incident that happened that day, a memory I wished I could erase. On 12/12/2013, it was raining heavily outside.
"Miss Riha, she is..." Grace, a maid in the house, began to say, but I didn't wait to hear the rest. I ran to Riha's room, my heart pounding. What I saw made my blood run cold. Drake was on top of her, pressing her down, satisfying himself while he was drunk. He probably thought I was the one. He had used that video to threaten me several times, trying to force me into submission.
Riha was crying heavily, tears streaming down her face—a sight I had never seen before. It was a pain-filled cry that pierced my heart. I couldn't stand by and watch. I moved to push Drake away from her. He was strong and heavy, but I didn't stop. I finally managed to drag him off her, and as I did, I saw the pain in my sister's eyes. I hugged her tightly, trying to shield her from the horror of what had just happened.
As Drake stumbled out of the room, his walk unsteady like a drunk man, I felt a wave of helplessness wash over me. We were just two weak women, left vulnerable while our parents were away on vacation. I couldn't bear to see Riha in such distress.
Fueled by anger and desperation, I stormed into Drake's room. He seemed to have sobered up a little, but the rage in me was still boiling.
"Why did you do that to your sister?!" I yelled, my voice shaking with fury.
He laughed, a cruel sound that sent chills down my spine. There was no remorse in his eyes, which meant he knew exactly what he was doing. "You know she is Riha, right?" I pressed.
"And so?" he replied, moving closer, his voice low and determined.
"You won't get away with this," I said, reaching for my phone to call our parents. But before I could dial, he grabbed my neck and slammed me against the wall.
"Who are you to confront me?" he hissed, his grip tightening. I struggled to breathe, his eyes devoid of pity. In a moment of desperation, I reached for a bottle of whiskey on his table and smashed it against his head.
Blood gushed from the wound as he fell flat on the floor. Panic surged through me. He was breathing heavily, as if his spirit was trying to escape his body. "Drake!" I called, but he was lost in his pain. Suddenly, he stopped breathing altogether.
"Drake, please don't scare me! Wake up! I don't want to be a murderer. Please, Drake!" I cried, my heart racing. "I will listen to you! I don't want to lose you!" Tears streamed down my face as I felt the weight of the moment crashing down on me.
"What should I do?" I whispered to myself, running to my room to call my parents. The phone rang endlessly, and I prayed for them to pick up.
"Mom, Drake is dead," I said when she finally answered. The words sent her collapsing from shock. My hands trembled as I dialed the police, and they rushed him to the mortuary.
Before the police could ask me any questions, my dad arrived, his face a mask of concern. "Anna, what happened?" he asked, his voice steady but urgent.
My voice cracked as I spoke. "Drake raped Riha." My dad's eyes widened in disbelief. "I decided to confront him, but he strangled me and nearly killed me. I threatened to report him to you, and then he... he killed himself with the bottle."
I lied, knowing deep down that my father might not believe me, but he did. He could see the tears streaming down my face, the fear in my eyes. I never wanted to be a criminal; that was my first lie.
My dad knew that if this got out, his name would be at stake. He told the police to clear the charges and release me, because it would be a disgrace for his son to have raped his own sister, a nationally recognized hip-hop musician.
After my release, my dad told me to take Riha to the hospital and then returned to where he and my mom had gone on vacation, as she had been rushed to the hospital after collapsing.
As I sat in the hospital with Riha, I held her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. I stared at her peaceful face, wishing I could take away her pain. My phone buzzed, breaking the silence. I glanced at the screen and saw my dad's name.
"Anna," he began, his voice trembling. "She is dead."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt the world around me blur, I blinked back tears, trying to process what he had just said.
I looked at my sister, her fragile form resting peacefully on the hospital bed, the rhythmic beeping of the machines a constant reminder of the gravity of our family situation. Just then, my phone beeped, breaking the heavy silence that enveloped the room.
I glanced down at the screen and saw my dad's name again. My heart raced as I slid my finger across the screen to unlock it.
"Am sorry, Anna. Take care of yourself and Riha."
I read the message slowly, each word sinking in like a stone in my chest.