Table of Contents

GATEWAY: Shattered dreams, Rising stars; a story of

peserverance.
Synopsis
How it all began
GATEWAY: Shattered dreams, Rising
stars; a story of peserverance.
 Synopsis
In a world filled with tragedy and heartache, Hailey's life
becomes a nightmare as she faces abuse, cruelty, and betrayal
from her polygamous family. Forced to endure a living hell
under her stepmother's rule, Hailey's only solace is her
unwavering hope for a brighter future. But just as she finds a
glimmer of happiness with William, a series of deceitful
actions tear them apart.
Hailey's resilience is tested as she navigates through secrets,
lies, and the dangerous journey towards forgiveness. With
shocking revelations and unexpected alliances, her story takes
a suspenseful twist. Will Hailey find the strength to overcome
her past and build the beautiful life she deserves, or will she
be consumed by the darkness that threatens to shatter her
dreams? Dive into this page-turning tale of perseverance, love,
and redemption that will leave you breathless till the very end.
 How it all began
Chapter 1
I'm a child born into a family of two wives and four
children. I was the only child of my mother, while my
stepmother had three children - twin daughters Kiran and
Amira, and a son named Xavier.
My dad, Mr. Richard Raymond, is a wealthy, wise, and well-
respected noble businessman. My mom, Laura Raymond, was
someone you would definitely call virtuous, a lady who
possessed every attribute of a great woman and mother.
My stepmom, Cynthia Raymond, and her children are just
another aspect of my life, which you will all come to
understand as the story continues.
Now enough of the boring and long introduction, let's dive
into what we all came here for.
As though it were yesterday, I could always remember my
fourth birthday. Despite being so young and sure to lose some
memories as I grew older, the significance of that day is deeply
imprinted on my mind. Each detail carved with the skill of a
master craftsman, leaving an indelible mark on my
consciousness.
Why?
I know you would love to ask, but note it wasn't because of
the party, nor the gifts or friends. It was because that day
marked the beginning of a new life for me.
Just like every other birthday we had celebrated as a family,
my fourth birthday was no different. It started out as a
wonderful day, with everyone looking forward to the
festivities.
 My father's compound was full of guests from all walks of
life. Family members, friends, neighbors, and colleagues had
all come to celebrate my fourth birthday. And just as the party
began to reach its peak, my mother, who had been by my side,
stood up and said she would be right back with a present for
me.
I was so excited because I knew my mother would have
gotten something really special for me. But soon, my
excitement turned to horror when we heard an excruciating
scream coming from inside the house.
We all ran to the scene to see my mom lying on the floor,
thrashing around and shaking. Her eyes were rolled back in
her head, and her mouth was frothing with foam. Blood was
pouring from her nose and pooling around her head. Her skin
was as pale as a ghost, and she didn't look like herself at all.
She was gasping for air, and I could hear her struggling to
breathe.
Seeing this, my father and other relatives rushed to her side,
while I stood rooted in my spot, My little heart pounding
loudly in my chest as I watched the horrible sight unfold
before my eyes. I wanted to run to my mom, but I was too
scared and confused to move. The look of fear and concern on
my father's face made me realize that something awful was
happening.
Soon, one of my aunts came up behind me, grabbed my
hands, and pulled me out of the room.
On getting to the sitting room, my stepmom dashed towards
me and yanked me away from my aunt, her eyes practically
boring into me with so much anger and maybe, should I say,
hatred.
“What have you done this time, you little she-devil?” My
stepmom yelled, her voice growing louder with each word.
“Have you done to her, what you did to the others?” She
continued, her voice cold as ice and eyes burning like hot
coals,
" I knew from the day you were born into this family that
you were doom in disguise, but no one believed me when I
said it. Now see what you've done, you devil-incarnated
being!” she barked, gripping my arm so tightly that I could feel
no blood flowing through.
I whimpered in pain and stared at her in both fear and
confusion because, at my age then, I couldn't understand what
she meant by her words. All I knew was she sounded scary,
and it made me tremble in fear as a tear ran down my cheek.
“Cynthia!, What on earth are you saying?” my aunt
confronted her, pulling me away from her tight grip. “How
dare you open up your filthy mouth to spurt out such cruel
and heartless words to this young girl? She's innocent, and you
have no right to accuse her of anything! You should be
ashamed of yourself.”
“Point of correction, Arielle. I'm not accusing anyone here.
She's guilty, an evil in innocent clothing, and I know it. Even
you and everyone else here knows it, though you all pretend
not to see through her false cloak. But I know deep down that
you all know she's a child of calamity.”
“Oh, shut up, Cynthia.”
“Don't tell me to shut up, Arielle,” she said, her eyes blazing
as she glared at me, “this child is evil, and you know it. Or
what would you call a child who ate up her placenta and
drank baby water in her mother's womb? Every lady in the
whole world knows that a child in the womb doesn't survive
without the placenta or baby's water, but this child did,” my
stepmom hissed.
“Yes, she did, Cynthia,” my aunt replied, fiercely, “and you
know why she did? Because she's a child of destiny,
determined to come into this world.”
“Oh, spare me that. This child here didn't cry the first day
she was born, but when she finally did, her father's companies
and houses got burnt mysteriously. The next day, she was seen
cuddling a big black mamba, and ever since then, each of her
birthdays always ends in pain and grief. Now, Arielle, how do
you explain that?” my stepmom sneered.
“Cynthia, what has come over you? Why are you behaving
crazy?”
“See here, Arielle, you can call me crazy for all I care, but
you and I know that these are proof that this child, Hailey, is
evil. And as for you, Hailey,” my stepmom turned to me, “you
better go and undo whatever you've done to your mom
because if she goes to journey beyond, I swear by the graves of
all your lost siblings that you will regret ever killing her,” my
stepmom spoke harshly and walked away.
Taking a deep breath, my aunt knelt down and held my
trembling hands.
“Hailey,” she called softly.
“Yes, aunt,” I stuttered as I sniffled.
Wiping my tears with her left hand, she said, “You're not an
evil child. You are a blessed child, and nothing will happen to
your mom, okay?”
“Okay, aunt,” I said, and she embraced me….
———————————————————
An hour later, four hefty men came out of the room
carrying my mother in a transparent glass box. Her eyes were
closed, and the beautiful gold dress she had been wearing was
now gone, replaced by a plain white dress. I ran to the men,
but before I could reach them, my aunt pulled me back, and
the men walked past us without uttering a word.
Soon enough, my dad came out of the room, and I noticed a
lot of changes in his appearance. My dad, who looked so
glamorous earlier, was now looking so unkempt and pale. His
eyes were red, bloodshot, and swollen as if he had been crying
for a while. I ran to him and innocently held his hands.
 “Dad,” I called with my babyish voice, and he looked down,
his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions which I couldn't
decipher at that age. But as I grew older, I came to recognize
them as a mixture of agony, sadness, worry, and grief.
“Dad,” I called again, my voice louder this time.
“Yes, baby?” he replied, with a voice that sounded so broken
“What's wrong with Mommy, and where are those men
taking her?” I asked, batting my eyes.
My dad took a deep breath and smiled at me, patting my
hair. “My love, there's nothing wrong with Mom. She's
perfectly okay, she just needs rest, and those men are taking
her to a place of rest. She'll be back, okay?”
I nodded, and my dad pulled me into a warm embrace,
placing a soft kiss on my forehead.
He released me from the embrace and reached for a small
box that I hadn't noticed before. I watched as he opened the
box, curious about what was inside.
“Lest I forget, I have a gift for you from Mom,” he said,
reaching into the small box with his large hands. From within
the box, he pulled out a fluffy teddy bear. “His name is Mr.
Tony,” he continued, “and Mom asked me to tell you to take
good care of him.”
With a smile plastered on my face, I took the little Teddy
from Dad and stared at it with so much excitement, hugging
him tightly to my chest.
“Thanks so much, Dad, and I promise I will take good care
of him,” I said and placed a kiss on his cheek.
“That's my little princess,” he cooed, then held my hand.
“You know, my dear, I want to always see you happy. So please
don't worry about Mom, just know she's watching you, and
she'll be back after she's had enough rest, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” I said, smiling…
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 That day became the last I ever saw my mom. She never
came back, as Dad had promised she would.
Days, nights, weeks, months, and years passed as I eagerly
waited for my mom's return from the place of rest, but she
never did. As I grew up, I got to understand why.
My mom had died that day, and my dad had thought that
the best way to shield me from the heart-crushing reality of
being motherless was to give me false hope.
And now, this is where the real journey of my life begins.
After the horrible and heartbreaking death of my mom, my
dad became a ghost of himself. He became so immersed in his
work that he never had time for his family. He spent most of
his time moving from one business trip to another and rarely
found himself at home.
Therefore, I was forced to live with my cold-hearted
stepmom, who wasted no time in performing her threats. She
became a beast of cruelty, sinking her fangs and claws of
wickedness into me.
My stepmother was extremely critical of everything I did,
and no matter what I did, it was never good enough for her.
She even went so far as to buy a special whip with seven tails
to punish me, and she made my life a living nightmare. I often
cried and even tried to run away, but she always found me and
brought me back.
I felt like I was trapped in a dark tunnel with no way of
escape, but I clung to the hope that one day I would see a light
at the end of the dark tunnel.
My stepmother made me do difficult and unusual chores
around the house, even tasks that a much older child would
struggle with. And to make matters worse, I had to do these
chores on an empty stomach.
At only six years old, I was made to cook, fetch water, and
gather firewood, even though we had a gas stove that I was not
allowed to use.
 Whenever my dad wasn't home, she would assign me to
fetch firewood from distant places, plow large plots of
farmland in a day, fetch water to fill all the drums and gallons
in the house every day. If there was any remaining water from
the previous day, she would tell me to throw it away and refill
the drum with fresh water.
I would mop the whole house so many times a day, boil
water for my siblings whenever they wanted to bathe (which
was up to seven to twelve times a day), wash their clothes, and
even their underwear. Literally, I was turned into a slave in
my father's house.
On the other hand, my stepmom pampered her kids so
much that none of them could do anything.
While the girls were always busy talking about fashion,
polishing their nails, moving from one night party to the other,
gossiping, bullying other girls and fighting over minor things
like clothes, makeup and men, Xavier was either fighting,
smoking, having sex with girls, committing all forms of havoc
in the village with his evil companions, gambling, or duping
and playing pranks on people.
These silly acts of my step-siblings resulted in many fights
between my stepmom and several people in the community as
she never corrected her kids, rather, she would always support
them by covering up their acts and this made are children to
turn out as corrupted lazy youths.