Sunday, September 20, 2015

A Second Chance - Chapter Four

“Love takes off masks that we fear
We cannot live without
And know we cannot live within.”
              ―James Arthur Baldwin

          Bisola could hear her wall clock ticking and the wind blowing, her body is frozen from head down to her toes, and so is her mouth. She tried to scream as the figure drew closer but nothing came out. Her throat was dried up. She shudders as the room became frigid than before.

          The figure came nearer and Bisola drew back in fear, her fingers holding on tightly to her bedsheets. She wasn’t sure what was going on. She could be dreaming, she concluded. Shut your eyes, it’ll be gone soon… just close your eyes, she said to herself as she counted from one to fifteen.

          She reopened her eyes to find the five-six figure sitting next to her on her bed. Thick veins swelled through her pale skin. Her jet black hair glowed ethereally as the light from Bisola’s bedside lamp hit it. She looked at the frighten girl in front of her with eyes that were as black as the darkest night and empty as the nothingness she felt. Bisola could almost see herself in them. The girl who looked not a day older than Bisola was wearing a beautiful silk own as dark as the crimson color of blood. Even though she was sitting at the edge of the bed, the silkiness of the dress highlighted every curve on her body. Her lips were of a dark lipstick color. On her feet was a black sandal heels. She looked as if she was about to attend a party except she looked as if she was frozen in time.

          Bisola swallowed her fears as she continued scrutinizing the girl who she had no trouble believing wasn’t human. She so desperately wanted to run for safety but the enchanting figure in front of her made her motionless. There was something peaceful but yet petrifying about her. It reached deeply into Bisola’s soul. It called her in and calmed her racing heart.

          When she gained control of her breathing and her hands were no longer shaking, she found her voice to speak for the first time.

          “Who-who are you?” she asked, her voice hoarse and filled with the panic that had suddenly left her body.

          “My name is Aisha, and you are?” the ghost who was now taking her turn in examining Bisola and her bedroom replied.

          “Okay Aisha, what are you doing here? How-how did you get in here? Have we met before?”

          “I don’t think so. I mean… I…I thought I was home.” she answered a confused expression on her face. Aisha wasn’t sure how she got there. All she remembered was boarding a taxi to meet with someone at Protea Hotel and... She’d dressed up nicely because she’d wanted to impress him one last time before finally saying her goodbyes.

          Aisha got up from the bed, unable to remember the remaining details of the night. Bisola jumped in fright, anticipating every possible horrible thing to happen next.

          “Where are you going to?”

          “The kitchen… I don’t feel good. If you don’t mind, I want a cup of tea, I’m quite cold. Do you want some? Looks like you need it.” the girl smiled, uncertain why Bisola had been staring at her as if she’d just seen a ghost all these while.

          Bisola could no longer take it. She flung her bedsheets aside and get on her knees and began to pray.
          “In the mighty name of Jesus!” Bisola prayed.

          “Amen.” Aisha who was halfway into the kitchen mockingly responded back. She couldn’t remember the last time she went on her two knees and prayed to God. When she’d been a good girl, bad things had happen to her so she’d put God aside and her career in front. As she listened to Bisola screaming prayers, she shook her head in pity. There’s no God, at least not for me. She thought. She then took two mugs from the higher kitchen cabinet, same place she kept hers in her home.

          While she waited for the water on the kettle to heat up, she began inspecting Bisola’s kitchen. It was big, just like hers. Everywhere was clean and the kitchen items were neatly placed. She sighed in satisfaction as she thought of Phillip. After six months with him she was sure he was everything she needed. He brought unexplainable happiness to her once unfortunate life. Aisha couldn’t wait to start her life over with him, she couldn’t wait to be his wife someday and most importantly, she couldn’t wait to call him.

          The boiling sound from the kettle brought Aisha back to her current situation where everything around her looked unfamiliar. She made two cups of tea. Two spoons of sugar for her and half a spoon for the girl who she was sure could help her find her way back home and possibly explain to her how she came to her home instead of hers.

          “Here I come…” she announced as she made her way back into the bedroom. The bedroom light was on now. Aisha was impressed with Bisola’s sense of style which was similar to hers. The room was painted a bright yellow color like the sun. The huge bed in the center of the room covered most of the space. Aisha wondered if Bisola had the same taste in fashion as she did, seeing that everything in her bedroom was elegant.

          With the two mugs in hand, she made her way passed Bisola’s tall standing mirror and what she saw made her jump back in horror. She held her scream in as she reappeared, facing the mirror. The two cups fell out of her hands and the hot content poured on her but Aisha felt nothing. The girl she saw on the mirror staring back at her was certainly not her. She was pale looking as if she was―

          “What did you do to me!” she screamed in anger and yet fear rang from her voice. Bisola who’d been watching the scene play out didn’t know what to make of it. After almost ten minutes of praying and hoping she’d been dreaming, Aisha had reappeared into the room confirming her worse fear.

          Within the next second, Aisha had closed the gap between her and Bisola. She needed answers. What had she just seen?

          “Bisola, what did you do to me? Answer me right now or I swear… I swear if… If what I’m thinking is real…” she collapsed on the floor and began to weep.

          “God why! Why me?” she demanded as she wept into her palms.

          “I’m sorry…” Bisola whispered. She wasn’t even sure what was going on. If Aisha was dead, that meant she could see ghost? But how and since when? She was fighting a mental battle with herself when Aisha picked herself up and stood in front of the mirror again. Tears gushed from her eyes and her lips trembled as she tried finding words to say to the girl looking back at her.

          “I can’t be… I just can’t. Not now, please God, not now. Please help me.” She looked back at Bisola for comfort. Bisola joined her. Standing beside her as they both stared at the mirror. As much as it pained her to say it, she knew she had to knock Aisha out of her despair so that this whole episode can come to an end.

          “I’m sorry Aisha, but I can’t help you.”

          “But why! Why can’t you help me? Why can’t you?” she demanded forcefully.

          “Because…because,” Bisola hesitated. “because you’re dead, Aisha.”

          She chuckled, feeling indifferent about her current predicament she said, “So I’m dead…but you’re not?” 


  1. So now she can see ghosts......cnt wait for d nxt episode

  2. I love your imagination! Really intriguing story :)


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