Book 1 of the Worn Series by
Bridget Ratidzo
Copyright© 2021Bridget Ratidzo. All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Smashwords Edition
For all those who believe in love at first sight and those of us who also believe that love is capable of redeeming.
Table of Contents
I gulp in a considerable amount of air, just to maintain my sanity. It never occurred to me until this very moment that it took so much work to be sane. And these are some of the things that go unnoticed. Yes the blessings of life we all have and are oblivious to their blessed existence. Or it is just me at the verge of my regular anxiety attacks. Okay maybe not an actual anxiety attack—but what do I call my heart soaring off the ritcher scale and my hands slightly shaking just because I am looking at the three story building. The building looms before me and seems to grow bigger as I approach. Even its blue and magnolia coat of paint and professional flower hedges that surround it dims its foreboding appeal to me.
I inhale deeply again. So this is a popular well known self-helping therapy to calm down nerves. Its circular medicine- it should work. Close your eyes, breathe in and out repeatedly for about—is it five minutes? – Then open your eyes and face the giant. Or to be more precise a giant monster building I am going to be slaving away all year.
Ugh! This is ridiculous- I of all people don’t need anyone to tell me that circular health advices never worked. I fixed my tote bag on my shoulder and pushed my glasses over the bridge of my nose. No I don’t have an eye problem, but the fake black rimmed eye glasses are part of my new look. And that is nothing fancy.
I can do this- nothing is ever going to change if I stand here looking like I am about to run for the hills. I look at myself in my mind and I consider that as my wild mind. I should run for the hills!
I force my feet forward, nerves wretch in the pit of my stomach like spades of hell as I stride towards the campus. The college banner comes to my eye sight and my stomach turns even harder.
The gates almost make me cringe as I approach them. It makes it all a reality and I hate reality.
The campus isn’t small or big it’s just average for a place that costs nine thousand pula per semester.
‘Here goes nothing!’ I mutter under my breath and I force myself forward. It shouldn’t be that hard.
A small group of students or teachers are by the entrance, I can’t be sure—they all look grown up and are dressed like professionals. I keep my head down as I march past them and their lively conversation. It’s Monday, so I guess they are talking about the weekend. Some normal people have exciting stories from the weekend and some of us come from it running like a bat out of hell.
Crowds make me nervous, or just people in particular and I also have a new life mission to be invisible to go with my new look.
It all came down to this after my whole life turned upside down and I stayed two years trying to figure out exactly what happened. It was father who finally decided that I had figured it out for long enough and it was time to go on with my life.
I don’t even want to know how he pulled off getting me enrolled into college in the first place to finish a degree program I started two years ago—
Whatever he did, is the reason why I am here right now looking for the HOD’s office.
I manage to walk past the buoyant group and I am inside the building, feeling a little double headed as I walk down the corridor with my papers in hand. A few people cast glances at me in the hallway and I make sure not to meet anyone’s eyes. I feel like it’s written all over my face; where I am coming from.
Pastor Luke said we should all learn to control our thoughts and how we perceived things.
I recall the Sunday sermon. Good point, but I don’t see how that helps someone like me. Not that anyone over there would know
The Church had a huge congregation, a kind of crowd I could easily disappear in and never be known. But the man had some weird habit of recognizing anyone in that church.
Nowhere to hide there
But I could hide here. No one to look at me. No one to see my existence and no one to know of my presence.
This is my new life mission. To be invisible. Because I have concluded that the ultimate conclusion to having seen one of life’s most rare horrors is to become invisible among mankind.
That’s a unique trait at least.
And I do almost manage to remain unnoticed most of the time in my life. Even at home. I simply know how to become the background. You know the back ground that fades when one is admiring the real object of a painting, yes that’s me. The fading back ground.
My family is big. I have one sibling, my older brother who I’m still trying to figure out if he is really a child in the house or another parent. He is so bossy and domineering like father.
But its father’s nature to be domineering, he is just playing his role—what of brother? Maybe he is just learning how to become father when the time comes and I would gladly say woe betide any poor soul that’s going to find itself under the life learned comradeship.
My aunt lives with us as well with my uncle; her husband. They have four sons, same age as brother. That makes the house full and very much alive. Uncle and father never get along. The tension is always there in the house. They both had this alpha male thing going on for both of them and some brother love-hate relationship that cannot be healthy for any human being who is nearby.
Thankfully, aunt and mother never quarrel. But it’s not like the opposite sex have got any say in that house
Seriously who agreed to the painful living arrangement? They’ve been arguing and been at each other’s throat for years. The solution is simple—each family should live on their own.
Why can’t anyone see things from my point of view?
I find myself in front of the HOD’s office. I take a deep breath. Oh boy I am so nervous.
What is the need? This is a business transaction. I give them money, they educate me. It’s a win/win. No one holds the authority there.
‘Come in.’ a muffled female voice calls from inside. I want to groan. The HOD is a woman. Just great. I glance at my clothes one last time.
Jeans, sandals and an oversized t-shirt I found on a sale the other day. Perfect not-drawing attention look. My just recently relaxed hair is in a bun. Perfect I push the door open and I step inside. Typical small college institution office complete with shelves of large dated files and a stern faced light skinned woman behind a medium sized desk wither sharp gaze on her computer screen.
I read her name on the name tag by the desk, even her name is intimidating Crap! She is the exact type of person I try to avoid any time of day. Her head is cut short and she is elderly as well.
She fell into the category I know so well. No I am not stereotyping anyone here. But it wouldn’t be wrong of me if certain people looked alike and behaved the same way and I simply place them in a certain cliché for easy identification and future reference of “people I must avoid 101”
‘Good morning.’ I stammer.
Her gaze makes me feel like shrinking, ‘may I help you?’
I hand her my student form and wait as she runs her eyes on it and a familiar distaste comes on her features.
Yeah apparently Zimbabweans and Batswana got off on the wrong foot somewhere in history and now this. And it didn’t help that they all thought that if a person is light skinned or good looking he/she cannot be a foreigner. It’s a circular psychological law.
‘You know everything you need?’
I answer her with a jerky nod and a tight smile which is not returned.
‘Good then enjoy your schooling here.’
‘Thank you!’ I mumble, glad to finally escape from the office.
I march down the hall to my first class. The classroom is just as I expect. I find a desk at the back of the class and I occupy it making sure I have a don’t-disturb-me expression. It’s all part of my new life mission.
Invisible, invisible, invisible.
Mission accomplished! Wild mind does a happy dance because days go in a blur and I have managed to disappear in the crowd. My life has picked up a routine again, something normal after two years. Not that people are not aware of my existence but I guess I just learned the secret art of diverting the attention of humans away from me.
All I have to do is get good grades, not get into trouble and this will all be over. Not that I had any idea what I was doing or rather why I was doing it. Why am I studying what I’m studying? Those are hard questions for me. I feel so hollow and gone deep down inside I feel as though my life has lost substance.
If feels like I died and returned as a new person altogether. Like some transformation took place—the memory come to me is slides. Camp fire, river, screams, the jail cell door being shut before my teary eyes. And lastly that devilish grin and wild cruel eyes flashing at me. Yeah I died and I’m not sure who this me is right now
But I guess if you are still breathing, you have to just keep on living. Why do I even still feel anything at all? I shake away the gory thoughts from my head as I march towards the school gates.
Man those gates never cease to spook me. I feel a relief as I finally walk past them. I take out my phone and headsets. Soon music is blasting in my ears as I decrease my pace to a stroll past the lot.
I have to endure this, just—how many months till I graduate? Or I will be sent to the village and my aunt who is my same age will come and take my place. That was the threat Father used to get me out of my phase.
I am not an uptown girl but being dumped in that village my whole life was not very flowery. I may feel hollow and lost but still—
I decide to concentrate on the next song that is playing. It’s a Spanish worship song I love so much. Sometimes I wonder if God remembers my existence at all. Or this new me is completely veiled from His sight? I scowl at the thought, but the song is so soothing it brings a slow smile to my face. I even close my eyes and tilt my head upwards.
The hot Botswana summer sun heats my skin and makes my face to prickle. I open my eyes and gaze at the clear bay blue sky. It seems to go on like a depthless blue almost white blanket. I wonder if heaven is above it or under it.
I close my eyes again and a ridiculous grin comes on my face as I begin to think about angels. My imagination is riot.
I slip on my own feet and before I know it I have landed hard on the ground with my bum while the singer in my ears reaches a high pitched note where the song is about to end. It all blends well with the hot sun, my sore bum and the thoughts that come flooding in my mind that very second.
I wince at the discomfort. But I don’t hear any roar of laughter. I suppose not many people have witnessed this. Now I have done it—I have created an interesting reputation for myself. Not that I already didn’t have one but I just didn’t want clumsy to the list.
The moment you are viewed as clumsy, you are a magnet for bullying bad trouble and I will have to change my game plan to stay a loner in this school!
I bite down on my lip as I fix my tote bag on my shoulder before I slowly open my eyes.
A shadow looms above me, shielding me from the scorching sun. Now unless a tree walked to give me shade in the middle of the parking lot that can only be a person who is stretching out his hands to me right now.
Grunting under my breath from pain and also embarrassment I wretched the headsets from my ears and in seconds I have stuffed them in my bag and I’m on my feet. Of course I ignore the person trying to help me up. Just trying to be a gentleman maybe. But I am too infuriated at the fact that I just tripped on nothing and fell just like that and yes I feel like beating the crap out of that nothing.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks as I am dusting my jeans. At least the oversized t-shirt I am wearing which is equivalent to a dress on me is the one with dust on it not my jeans. I can easily tuck it or something and problem solved. I’m about to do just that when I notice that the person talking to me who hasn’t vanished yet is still there waiting for me to say something.
My hands grab fistfuls of my shirt. What should I say? Thank you? Well he didn’t do anything except prove that he was a sole witness to my clumsiness. How about go away?
I don’t especially feel like being polite today.
I raise my eyes to look at him and they collide with dark brown eyes covered with even darker lashes are looking down at me in wonderment and I only blink in return. Maybe I have been in the sun for too long. I almost slap myself to check whether I am not hallucinating. He is just beautiful. The thought falls in my head and I wonder if I didn’t fall and hit my head on the ground.
I close my eyes and give my head a little shake. To clear my head at least. Then I feel warm firm hands grip my arms. Both of them. My eyes fly open and I tense at the same time. A little concerned scowl make lines to appear on his brow, that’s when I realise that I do feel a little dizzy.
‘I’m fine.’ I manage to say finally – more like telling myself. I don’t want to go on and think about what could have possibly made me dizzy and had this stranger hold me from falling on my face.
He narrows his eyes, peering at me—leaning closer I think and I catch a delicious warm scent. I actually close my eyes to inhale deeply before I catch myself. Fresh laundry I decide.
With a spicy tang and something warm and—
I suddenly snap to reality and kicking the woozy spell away in an instant. What the hell am I doing? Why is he looking at me like that? He doesn’t know I was inhaling him does he?
I tag my arms from his hold. He lets go but is still towering over me. Well I’m five feet two and it seems like the rest of the population I come into beat that record and I always have to look up at most people anyway.
I take a backward step and with a little head bow I manage to say, ‘thank you!’
Yeah I’ve watched too many Korean Dramas because I almost do the full bowing thing and dash off. I should leave but my feet seem to not be cooperating A small smile appears on his lips—just small but oh swoon!
‘Are you sure?’
No I am not okay. The administrative department of my mind if running all over the place trying to locate and restore order. My logic, sense, heart, emotions and wild mind are in dire confusion and I can only stare speechlessly at the moment.
So I manage a jerky nod, pressing my lips together before I blurt out one of my running thoughts. Like is that hair afro or curly? Either way it has golden brown highlights under the sun, my finger actually twitch to touch it. Just to know whether it’s silky or coarse. I settle for silky because that would be a more satisfying feeling.
I mentally slap myself. What the hell? I need to get out of here.
‘Come, we’ll get you some water.’ His voice breaks into my reverie again, ‘the heat wave is extreme today.’
Heat wave? Oh yeah the global warming thing and damaged ozone layer climatic issues.
My feet finally start to move and I’m about to decline his water offer and make a run for it when I dizzy spell hits me again. I stagger sideways and I reach out my hands to find something to steady myself with. Of course the only stable thing around is the poor guy whose skin I am now clawing my fingers into as the dizziness tapper off slowly giving a minor introduction to an incoming head ache.
‘Steady there, I got you.’
I look up suddenly because his voice is so close. And yes of course I am the one holding his arms now after having forced myself into his embrace. Right now I am captivated by his moving lips. They look so soft. I wonder if---
I shake my head and I try to draw away from him but he holds me still.
‘Come—my car is just here—you need to get out of the sun.’
He moves me to god knows where as I am still trying to locate back my senses and equilibrium. It when I see him open the car door and easing me inside that I begin to get myself a little.
I close my eyes at rest my head against the car seat as he close the door and comes to sit on the driver’s seat.
‘Here!’ I feel something cool in my hands. I sit up straight and I open my eyes. It’s a water bottle and he has opened it for me. I bring the bottle to my mouth and I feel myself relax a little as the water enters my system. Gee I had no idea that I was this dehydrated.
I can’t help by sigh contentedly because a small container of water has just kicked away my sudden sickness.
‘Feeling better?’
I glance at him with a smile, ‘yes,’ my sanity has returned now, ‘thank you.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ He smiles back, ‘I’m Taylor.’
My brain companions scribble the name down furiously for future reference while I do the only thing that a not so normal person like me does. I look at his hand like it could be dangerous for my existence. I am serious about my mission to be invisible so much that I have become a loner and I don’t remember how to navigate a handshake.
That theory is proven because I accept his handshake with a polite smile and sealed lips.
He chuckles under his breath
‘What do they call you?’
My heart skips. He just wants to put a name to my face. Yeah the clumsiest girl he has ever seen? Oh for Pete’s sake it’s just a normal introduction procedure. He gave you his name and you should give him yours. My sensible-self rolls her eyes at me.
‘Heather!’ I stammer, ‘and thank you again.’
That is my mental signature to leave right this moment. But I just stare at him as he takes a sip of his water. Why is that fascinating? I bite down on my lip. What happened to my life motto of invisibility? It doesn’t help anything that I am here admiring the person right now. He closes the cap back on his bottle and he turns to meet my gaze before I have time to talk myself out of staring.
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips and I feel heat going to my face under that steady gaze. And it happens again. My mind goes into confusion.
I clear my throat, ‘uhmn—I—I have to go.’ I manage in a low choky voice, ‘I have classes.’
He glances at his wrist watch, ‘classes don’t start in thirty minutes. You can sit here until then.’
I shake my head, ‘I have a thing before classes.’
He narrows his eyes, ‘you want to go back out there after the heat wave effect you just had?’
I do still feel a little fuzzy but I’d rather sit in a room somewhere where I am able to put two coherent thoughts together.
‘I feel fine,’ at least I’m no longer stammering. ‘Thanks to you.’
‘It was my pleasure.’
I just flash a smile pushing my glasses over my nose and he follows that movement with his eyes before they settle back on my mouth. The impact of that look makes me bite down on my lip preparing to dash out and his lips fall open a little while his eyes rise to meet mine.
My heart is thudding loud in my chest bordering towards breathing problems I think because my breathing hitches and I take a deep breath to catch myself just as he slowly looks away with a ghostly smile on his lips.
What is wrong with me all of a sudden?
I finally get to action. My shaky hand opens the door and I think I mumble another thank you before I jump out of his car and almost do a victory dance when I’m out. I place a hand over my thudding heart. That person cannot be healthy for my existence. So I do the only thing I can.
I walk as far from his car as possible towards the school building.
The day drags on as usual. Lectures, on-line classes. Boring slides and teachers with attitudes. Lunch then arrives and I sit under a huge thorn tree with music blasting in my ears. I am munching an apple. It’s Friday, and the thought of facing the weekend steals my appetite like it always does. I hate Saturdays. Okay maybe let me clear the injustice of unreasonable hate for a day that I never commanded to exist. Saturdays at my house is a nightmare. Everyone is around.
Like they don’t have weekend plans or something. With so much people living at home I feel like I am running a restaurant doing all the cooking and serving. And don’t even get me started on the number of visitors that drop by as if they have nothing to do with themselves in their own homes on a week end.
By the time the final class for Business Ethics arrives I am severely depressed about Saturday. I sit in my usual spot in the back- invisible to the whole class population, pushing my fake glasses over the bridge of my nose and gaze absently at the front of the class.
Our business ethics lecturer recently took a leave, some unplanned pregnancy. And no she didn’t announce it to the whole world, I just figured it out. I sometimes wonder whether I
was one of those babies that popped out of nowhere and turn all life plans around. It sure as hell feels like it sometimes.
The door opens and in strides a tall gentleman with his back to the class he picks up a whiteboard maker and inscribes his name on the white board
‘Mr. Phatshimo’
‘Oh my gosh.’ One girl in front of me whispers to the other, ‘that’s him,
‘Are you sure?’
‘Wait till he turns around—we are so lucky to have business ethics this semester—too bad he is only a temporary lecturer.’
Okay so the new ‘Mr. Phatshimo’ already has a five stars among the female population.
This is going to be an interesting six months, or however long the professor makes her leave.
Then he turns to face the class and I am not the only one who gasps. But not for the same reasons.
Wild faints on the floor with her hand on her forehead. How will the universe explain to me why the man I supposedly y ran away from and hoped to never see again was my new business ethics lecturer?
‘Alright!’ he says loud enough to silence the hushed whispers that were echoing in the class.
Good grief- if I’d known that he was a teacher I would have been a little bit civil with him earlier. And it’s not as if I can just hope he won’t recognize me I am very much easy to pick out in a crowd.
I duck my head, stared at the uninteresting desk where my hands are neatly folded. I go over the conversation and interaction I had with him. I cringe at everything. Crap!
I probably just assumed that he was hitting on me. Small brained that I am. Why would he hit on me, the man was simply beautiful, alluring. The picture of any girl’s best fantasies. I am just me and my small uninteresting self with glasses and a strain of clumsiness.
I snap back to the present when people chuckle all around.
‘most of our classes are going to be group work because this module requires a lot of analysis and discussion and on a more personal note because it makes my life easier than to have to deal with all of you individually.’
Either he is a slave to making bad jokes or he is a serious addict to bluntness.
‘Now look at the person next to you.’
I looked at the window before I turn to my fellow back seat neighbor, he is the loquacious dreadlocks guy who probably believes he got the whole Rasta culture figured out. At least he decided against keeping a beard.
He tried voguish moves on me the first days when he assumed that I could be a fellow rebel. Not that I knew for a fact that he was a rebel but I could somehow smell it on him. He even tried bullying and gave up when I showed him my best don’t you mess with me attitude.
When our eyes meet his face twists into a cheesy grin, I give him my most menacing glare and look away.
‘That will be your partner for the first assignment.’ Mr. Phatshimo finishes and my jaw drops open. Are you freaking kidding me?
The guy, what his name by the way anyway? Looks horrified, mirroring my expression.
‘Can’t we choose our own partners?’ a girl almost wails and I want to wail along with her
‘no- the idea is to create teamwork and teamwork is usually with people you naturally don’t pick for yourselves, you better all take this exercise seriously because it’s going to add up on your end of semester results.’ He continues to announce smoothly as he moves through the desk aisle placing sheets of paper on each table after he assesses who is partnered to who.
Teamwork? Wild scoffs with an unlady like sneer on her face, I hate teamwork, I like me alone work in fact I work better alone. And if I did have to endure teamwork why did it have to be with Rastafarian?
As if that is not enough, Mr. Phatshimo places the paper on Rastafarian’s desk and moves on as if he just didn’t ruin my entire school life.
The class ends and all people begin to file out. Rastafarian grabs the sheet and marches out of the classroom.
Urgh!—I lift my tote bag and March after him. The guy walks in such impressive long strides for his possibly five feet two height.
‘Collins!’ I suddenly remember his name. He glances behind him and stop. An impish smile spreads across his face. The devil himself in a small body.
‘Heather! He drawls my name in a slow sultry smug way like the stupid devil that he is
‘You seem to be in some kind of hurry and I need to see the assignment you just took off with you.’
He arcs an eyebrow upward, ‘you actually think I’m going to work with you?’
Of course not, who works with the devil knowingly in broad day light?
‘no.’ I reply calmly, ‘but we have to make it seem like we worked together—so can I see the assignment?’
A lopsided grin follows- hyena- the word quickly falls into my head and wild nods in approval. Maybe he is the reason why we still have to study evolution and the Stone Age, since he seem to have in some way inherited the genes.
Okay. I am losing it—I am getting annoyed.
‘How badly do you want it?’
I narrow my eyes at him, ‘excuse me?’
‘Tell me how badly you want it.’
Is he trying to pull off the confident control freak attitude with me?
‘Just give me the paper Collin!’
‘Just like that?’ he scoffs, ‘you have to be kidding.’
The stupid teamwork assignment just gave this idiot some power to tease me with, if that teacher didn’t have a lesson planned why didn’t he just say his name and leave the class?
‘But I can give you.’ He breaks into my angry reverie, ‘we can go out and work on it together maybe over a candle light dinner and slow music.’ He bites his lip.
Oh my gosh shoot me now
‘What?’ I mutter slowly with a dangerously low voice.
‘Don’t you get the picture? I want us to go out.’
I clench my fists and glare at him, ‘are you mad? You think I am desperate for that stupid group assignment?’
You are! Wild raises an eyebrow at me
‘don’t push me Collin or I will pull those dread locks one by one before I shove them down your throat,’ I growl, ‘now hand it over.’
Collin nods slowly, either he is terrified, like I hope he is because if he is seeing me like a funny small angry girl I don’t have a plan B. He pulls the folded paper from his pocket and hands it to me. I snatch the paper from his hand and March on in long angry strides. I probably look like Tom from the Tom and Jerry cartoon and I don’t care, Even tiny mice hold their own sometimes. My annoyance subsides slowly as I reach the parking lot. I sigh, of all the things that the freak could have teased with – I would have even said please if he had suggested it but date? Oh boy he poked the wrong beehive.
‘Heather.’
Who else knows me in this school to call me in the middle of the parking lot? He couldn’t have followed me did he? Doesn’t he have anything else to do? Wash his dreads maybe!
I raise my head and meet dark brown eyes, a dazzling smile and that wonderful smell.
Fresh laundry! I blink to clear my head and—did I just run into him again?
What is he? The next episode of my worst days ever?
‘Hop in I will give you a ride.’
I blink at him again, ‘huh?—uh – oh no thank you Mr. Phatshimo.’
‘I insist!’
I push my glasses over the bridge of my nose, ‘no its okay I live close by.’
‘Mogoditshane is that close by?’
How did he—?
I blink again. ‘No of course not,’ getting annoyed, ‘I don’t want you to give me a lift.’
Seriously wasn’t he supposed to be my teacher or something?
‘Why not.’
I raise my eyebrows, ‘well first of all you are a stranger and secondly I don’t want inappropriate rumors with my face on it.’
‘alright, then I suppose we have to know each other a little better and as for your second concern no one cares here.’
‘I do and that mean somebody does—have a good day.’ I brush past him
‘It’s Taylor!” he calls out after me
Betrayal is like a virus. It can be tamed and silenced but it has no cure. The youth pastor keep telling us that God can cure anything. I’ve seen firsthand the cure he spoke of, deadly diseases, broken bones, and people changing instantly. Seriously something massive is going on in that church that God I assume doesn’t want me to be a part of. Because despite seeing and hearing all these things, I still can’t believe enough that God wants anything to do with my life story.
Bad memories do not have a cure. To be more precise, my memories do not have a cure.
‘You should come to the hike this weekend.’ Judith says as she pushed my books aside to sit with me on the bed, ‘all the church youth will be there and pastor Luke says that it’s a spiritual journey.
I don’t want to go for the hike- though I do like hiking. No I fantasize it on my better days. But I don’t want to physically do it. The last time I was in a jungle all hell broke loose.
‘I have weekend classes.’
‘Oh come on.’ Judith rolls her eyes, ‘all college and no fun makes you a dull person.’
‘That’s not how the saying goes,’ I arc an eyebrow upwards, ‘and besides you know I can’t get away on Saturdays—I run a diner here.’
‘You are the one who worries that all these people will starve to death without you.
Like she ever lived here before, wild mutters grudgingly And I’d rather survive the Saturday craziness than hike. If only Judith knew- she would stop pressing the issue on me. And the spiritual journey? Wild scoffs loudly folding her arms—
why bother?
‘Please!’ Judith does the puppy face
I groan, no it’s not cute it looks terrifying, ‘I will think about it.’
She grins triumphantly, ‘still better than a no. so when you decide- you text me and I will come and get you okay?’
I nod with a taut smile. Sometimes I wonder where Judith get all that energy from, I felt tired just by the thought of facing another day. I don’t know why she is still my friend. Well maybe friend is a little bit exaggerated—Pastor Luke put us together as prayer partners.
When Judith leaves I start on the business ethics group assignment. I remember the look on Collin’s face when I threatened him and I laugh mirthlessly to myself. The freak had it coming!
It is said that two work better than one—yeah even though the end result is disastrous, but I still like working alone the best. And there is no way in heaven am I going to work with Collin. Normally I would try to appeal to his better nature and get this work done. But not anymore—maybe there is no better side to naturally evil people. I had decided long time ago Father is the typical traditional type of person. Sometimes I wildly believe that he may have accidentally teleported from the 1800s. He still believes the whole women had different roles than men thing and that it is a waste of energy to send a girl child to school. So I guess he grudgingly educated me my whole life, not that I am complaining.
Mother and aunt had to negotiate for half of their lives-well I suppose- before they could try to find ways to earn money for themselves or something like that. They asked father and uncle’s opinions before doing anything. It still does make any sense to me. Or perhaps they all teleported from historic ear together where women only had children and satisfied their husbands.
In my point of view, marriage is a prison under lock and key. It almost seemed like being owned by someone ordering you around just because you are female.
My aunt often tells me that I am twisted by the TV and books I read. Maybe she is right and I can’t deny that I have thought problems or that my point of view differs from that of every other human being on planet earth!
The topic is a lot of dilemma to conclude so I drew out my own safe conclusion that could save me from the expected slavery
Don’t get married! Period.
When I walk into the dining room on Saturday morning, father and older brother are having breakfast. Father has that look on his face. I was too farm ilia with a look to know that he is about to make another painful announcement.
I greeted them and I sit down.
‘Are you still going for the hike?’ Father asks, mildly interested, I doubt the man ever hiked his whole life unless it was absolutely necessary because he was shocked I think when I explained that hiking is a hobby.
‘Yes.’ I reply.
‘When will you be back?’
‘Midday!’
‘That’s good.’ His faces twists into a wide smile, ‘we have a guest who will be with us tonight.’ He turns to older brother, ‘is Charles still coming?’
‘Yes father, just as planned. ‘Brother answered flashing a smile at me.
Who was Charles? Probably another relative, the weekend never passes without them. In fact there are so many I gave up keeping up with them.
‘Great,’ father beams, ‘go and have fun, and we will all see you when you get back.’
My eyebrows nearly shoot up at my father. I’ve known father my whole life to understand that such level of enthusiasm means that he probably found another way to make very one’s lives more complicated and miserable than they already are. Okay, maybe not literally but close enough.
Why did I agree to this again?
I’d pictured this outing a little differently, fresh air, hill top scenarios I wanted to act out like the scene I put in my head last night of my lovely self on the hilltop looking so lovely under the sun.
A stab of disappointment hit me when I observed reality. My face is itchy and sweaty, I’m not sure which part of my body is aching at the moment. Pastor Luke decides to draw a sermon and decides that sitting under the hot sun was the best way to deliver it.
‘There is nothing that you are going through that no one has ever globe through—you are not alone. We endure knowing that at His appointed time God will come to our rescue.’
Why do I feel like he has been on this point for the past decade? What am I even doing here? I never hiked anymore since—my chest tightens as the memory threatens to come into my mind. I push it away. Thinking about that day here in the woods would do no good for me or for anyone.
Twenty four months was enough for me get over it wasn’t it?
Screams, the ripple of the river
Raucous laughter
My name being called
My hands in my hair I scream, sinking to my knees
The cell door closing before my eyes and that dark triumphant evil smile.
I inhale sharply to snap out of my horror reverie only to see Pastor Luke gazing at me with concern on his face.
‘Heather are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ I reply quickly as I am still trying to recover myself but I can’t because I suddenly have trouble breathing. I need to calm down. The last thing I need is to end up on a counselling session with some stranger I don’t know trying to make me tell them my life story.
Of course they say that confession brought deliverance, I don’t think that would work for me. Not all proposed solutions work for the entire human race.
‘I get dizzy when I sit in the sun for too long.’ I lie.
Pastor Low nods and smiles weakly, ‘you need some water and a shade.’
‘Here’s water.’ Someone offers. The bottle is passed until it reaches me. I see everyone king of relax as I gulp in water and look more relaxed.
But I still notice a little worry and doubt on the pastor’s face. Thought he is diverting everyone’s attention from my predicament he obviously doesn’t believe that I have a rare sickness that requires me to stay out of the sun
It’s not as if I were a vampire.
‘Seriously are you okay?’ Judith asks me for the millionth time. I want to hide somewhere, almost all people from the group have already come to ask if I was okay? I wonder if they mean presently or my whole screwed up life.
‘I’m fine,’ I say as I relax into my seat.
‘I’m just worried,’ Judith sighs. ‘You looked like you were about to die back there.’
Crap, I guess I did look that bad. My bad memories are indeed horrifying and wasn’t it convenient that they had to show up during that time
‘I’m so tired,’ I mumble as I lean my head against my seat and close my eyes. Oh how I long for a slow soul song.
‘Heather.’ Judith taps me on the shoulder.
‘What?’ I say in a lazy do-not-disturb-me voice
‘Look who is here!’ she gasps.
‘Who?’ I just want to go home, I don’t care if angel Gabriel slipped off the grand heaven stairway and fell on earth with a thud,
‘It’s Evangelist Abiwu’s son.’
I want to roll my eyes. I don’t even know who that it. Between Christians and non-Christians, their trend of celebrities was a fine line between entertainment famous faces and prominent preachers. I still don’t get what the fuss is all about.
‘Evangelist who?’ I open my eyes to scowl at her
‘The Ghanaian evangelist who visited our church once.’
‘When was that?’
Judith looks so giddy. ‘Two years ago—but his son remained with our church for a time—I guess he’s still in Botswana after all.’
‘Oh, so what did he do?’
‘he was in the praise and worship team but left after his mother died--- we all thought he returned to live with his father in Ghana,’
‘Are you going to go and say hello?’ I raise an eyebrow at her
‘No, that would be awkward and I don’t want people to assume that I have carnal interests in him or something.’
I chuckle, ‘oh my god!’
I turn my head to look out the window. Just to see him so that I can remember him if Judith ever speak of him again. His back is at the minivan. He is talking with Pastor Luke who look very fond of him. Pastor Luke is fond of everyone. Pastor Luke seems a little confrontational and the man is laughing and nodding his head.
He’s definitely not here for a hike, I study his dark jeans and orange t-shirt. The orange color makes his light skin very appealing or it’s just that I have a weakness for that skin which reminds me of someone.
Some other guy from the choir comes out of the minivan and walks up to Ghananian with grin.
He swats Ghananian’s arm in a cheery greeting. Pastor Luke grins and Ghananian turns to the choir guy whose name I don’t remember at the moment with a ridiculous grin on his face.
His brows shoot up his face in recognition and the two share a brief hug.
Wild appears and we both gap, dumbstruck. No way. No freaking way. Please tell me he has a twin brother or it just so happens that his exact look alike also lives in Botswana.
‘Is that him?’ I ask Judith beside me.
Judith turns to look at me than past me out the window,
‘Yes.’ She looks at me, ‘you know him?’
‘no.’ I lie. ‘He doesn’t look Ghanaian.’
‘His mother is a Motswana but he is a carbon copy of his father, except the light complexion, his mother was half white.’
Choir boy and Ghanaian are talking animatedly—displaying old friendship. I could already picture his life story. His mother dies, his father returns to his home Country and he leaves the church.
From the whispers that erupts inside the minivan, he was a beloved person and old friend.
‘Oh my God, he is coming here!’ Judith gasps
I snap out of my thoughts and my eyes looks out just his last foot is entering the minivan.
Everyone greeted him animatedly as soon as he steps inside. Even Judith stood and walked to give him a long lecture like greeting. I remain in my seat and I take out my phone just to maintain my sanity and half hoping that he won’t even native my existence.
‘Join us for lunch!” pastor Luke insists
NO!
‘Sure.’ ‘Great, you can have this seat here.’
Either my peripheral vision is playing tricks on me or is Pastor Luke pointing at the empty seat beside me? Where on earth did Judith vanish to?
I want to keep staring at my phone because my heart is suddenly doing somersaults inside me. A lump comes to my throat and my palms start to sweat.
He comes to sink in the seat beside me
Crap!
He turns to look at me the same time I decide to stop pretending to poke at my phone. My eyes meet dark brown gaze and my heart starts to pump faster than it necessary. I can’t help myself and he is this close. There is a brief moment when it feel like the world has paused and has matched the pace of my beating heart. He is surprised to see me then his face smoothens to a neutral expression
‘Heather!’ the way his eyes sweeps me makes me very self-conscious and I feel heat going to my face. Maybe he is the weird person because I don’t feel like this when any other person looks at me. And also now I know why his voice is nice. He is a singer
‘Taylor.’ I say kicking my wild thoughts away with a taut smile. My wild mind grimaces in disappointment.
‘It’s good you decided to drop the formalities.’
I purse my lips, - I am annoyed, his existence is ruining my mental health. Wild nods in agreement.
‘We are not in school.’ I mumble and gaze out the window. I can feel his eyes on me.
That makes me even more annoyed because I am dusty, sweaty and almost insane and he is sitting there all dashing and smelling like fresh laundry.
‘You are a church girl!’
I turn to look at him with raised eyebrows, what does that even mean.
‘Excuse me?’
‘That explains your behavior the last time we met, but not quite.’
I blink at him, ‘are you always this straight forward?’
‘Yes.’ He answers simply
I press my lips together depreciatively, ‘why is that a thing?’ I mumble to myself He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Do I annoy you or are you basically just annoyed with everyone?’
Everyone? Well I wouldn’t know. I am anti-social to some degree and as for him, I can’t describe my present predicament as annoyance but I do want to run from him like he was the plague.
‘Yes.’ I say breathing out. Because it’s suddenly so hot in here. Did someone forget to turn on the air conditioning? And can’t he look elsewhere other than my face
‘You don’t even know me.’
‘Neither do you!’
‘I am willing to try.’
I meet his gaze, ‘why?’
‘Because I think you are attractive and I know you think I am as well.’
I blink and I’m not sure whether to laugh or to scoff. So I just lift my phone and start to poke at the screen in order to ignore him. So he is hitting on me after all, has he gone mad?
Doesn’t he have eyes? Oh he does—dark captive brown.
He chuckles under his breath before he takes my phone from my hands and start to navigate it as if it was his.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask as if I haven’t figured out that he is saving a number in my phone. I should keep a security pattern on the thing but father was hell bend on invading my privacy like it was his favorite past time in the world.
‘Heather.’ He says as he hands me my phone back,
I nod slowly and I smile. I mean what else I can do at this point. It’s not as if I am not secretly thrilled that he has given me his number or that he has found any interest in me at all.
But I won’t go into all that. I’ve seen a dangerous world and I won’t relive it. I am still trying to figure my way back to the normal world and I don’t have time for this.
Geez it’s just a phone number, my wild mind rolls her eyes at my overthinking. I am not overthinking, I argue, I am simply looking at things now and beyond.
I glance at the new contact. Taylor.
The lunch turns out to be very eventful. The youth group are very fond of Taylor as it seems and they do have a lot of good old memories to laugh about throughout lunch. It baffles me that he doesn’t even seem uncomfortable since he is someone who left the church.
I suddenly have a wild desire to hear him sing. Maybe because I spend the entire lunch session staring at him and studying him. It’s a weird feeling. How do I describe that I am being fascinated by this person I only met twice now. It feels as though the guy is everywhere—or has been everywhere for the past few days ever since I ran into him in the parking lot.
Other than that, the church group is so comfortable with him. I grew up attending a stern Church that had very strict rules. Do and don’ts. You do something to shame the congregation they will gladly tell you to pack your load and not poison all others. You had to tread carefully around those people. It was the kind of worship centre my father highly approved of. He thought himself as a good displinarian. I viewed him as a personal version of Hitler in the house This church group was different, no one even tried to give Taylor the five hundred minutes lecture about him returning to the Lord or face the fires of hell.
The topic always makes my heart to lurch in my chest. How will I even begin to ‘return to the Lord’? Where would I even start from?
The lunch is soon over and we all hurry back to the minivan. Judith is having a Q&A conversation with Taylor and imp guessing that maybe she likes him. I don’t blame her. The man is a walking temptation. Not only because I think he is too attractive but because he isn’t in the Christian social circles. Maybe people like him were not meant to be with this kind of crowd, they had to derail the entire female population.
Wild smiles smugly at this new theory. I begin to march purposefully towards the van noting that I will be walking past Judith and Taylor, not that I had planned it but why did they decide to chat in the middle of the road?
I pick up my pace and walk hastily past the two- well almost before Taylor stops me by gripping my hand.
He has done it again. What is wrong with this man?
I think Judith is more surprised by it more than I am. I want to kick Taylor. Is he aware that the entire church group is witnessing this whole exchange?
‘Well it was nice seeing you again Taylor.’ Judith’s smile falters since she is still wondering why Taylor is holding my hand like we are a dear been-together-for-a-long-time couple. She pats his arm before walking away.
Territory, I think wildly, women mark their territory by touch. And this is not just a hypothesis.
‘Same here—have a nice weekend, I’ll see you around.’ He keeps his eyes on me as he speaks.
I’ve seen this before and read about it a thousand times but oh boy never have I felt so vulnerable and helplessly flattered under anyone’s gaze before. This is unnerving.
Even father who claims to be equivalent to the king of the jungle never manage to confuse the administrative department of my thoughts like this.
I tag my hand my and he lets go after his traitorous fingers linger a little bit inside my palm making my hand to tingle.
‘You have a nice weekend Taylor.’ I decide to be civil and he has a small mocking smile on his face.
‘Call me!’ he narrows his eyes and wild freezes for a moment before passing out.
‘Maybe!’ I say nonchalantly.
If he thinks I’m simply going to pick up my phone and call him he had another thing coming. Since the man seems to be everywhere at least I’m sure that he won’t appear at my house. So my mental health should be safe until Monday at school.
I cant meet Judith’s questioning gaze as we drive back home. She obviously have tones of questions and doesn’t hesitate to ask them
‘I thought you said that you didn’t know him.’
I feel heat going to my face, ‘well in the actual sense I really don’t. I only met him in class he is my Business Ethics lecturer.’
‘And he is already so familiar with you?’
I bite my lip, ‘well I kind of bumped into him in the parking lot.’
Judith’s mouth hangs open, ‘and why were you planning to keep this to yourself?’
‘I wasn’t.’ I roll my eyes, ‘but how was I supposed to breach the topic without you thinking that I have a thing for my teacher.’
‘Which is not far from the truth.’
I gasp but wisely choose not to say anything at this point. I know that down somewhere in the depths of my wild mind I do like the man. Which is ridiculous because I only met the man yesterday. Maybe it’s just because I think he is attractive. The fact that I even manage to pick that out is fascinating. I spent two years building barriers around myself and never looked at
anyone and this guy just appears and melts everything away. Maybe that’s why he feels so dangerous, why I want to run for the hills screaming.
As soon as I enter my house it feels like I have entered into another territory. It always feels like that but today it’s much deeper. I sniff the air. Either aunt or mother decided to prepare a dinner party, which very rare or the so called visitor is really that special.
I rush in to take a shower and I put on a comfortable long skirt and a sleeveless blouse. I tie my hair into the usual bun and put on my glasses. I am busy observing my reflection and as much as it kills me to admit it, thinking about Taylor when I hear loud exclamations from the living room.
This Charles man must surely be something.
‘Heather!’ its mother, ‘come over here!’
After all the greetings have been exchanged, I finally make my appearance in the crammed living room. It never fails to amaze me how all these people fit under one roof.
Father and brother have the same faces, I wonder what exactly they look so proud of. My four uncles, all look amused. They always do. I usually call them joker in four. Aunt has an interesting theory about that one
Mother and aunt cast me appraising gazes.
Okay now I smell real trouble about to drop in any minute soon After assessing all the important expressions of the family. I finally let my eyes land on the visitor. I begin from his feet. Nice formal loafers. Brown, someone that screams trouble.
They look pricey though-even the socks peeking from under his pants. White shirt, no tie. He is all formal.
Then I finally reach his face. Dark strong features and a confident gleam in his ordinary brown eyes. Okay I have been bewitched by a certain pair of brown eyes such that all other eyes looks very ordinary. He is like a Michelangelo sculpture.
He is looking straight at me, I can see him weighing some option in his head before he flashes a smile at me. The man also has dimples.
He is the epitome of tall dark and handsome, but somehow that feel boring.
Wild smiles coyly and Taylor’s face flashes into my mind. What on earth has that man done to me?
I walk to him and greet him with the respect that is required for the seemingly important stranger.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you.’ I say averting my eyes. Because you don’t look into people’s eyes, especially male strangers when greeting them.
‘Likewise.’ His voice is deep and manly
‘Charles, this is my one and only daughter Heather. She is doing her final year in business studies this year.’
‘Ah!’ Charles sounds pleased, ‘that’s very pleasant news.’
I retreat from the place and go to sit with the only women in the house.
Father starts the inquisition. That lasts for decades. Turns out the man is a prominent business tycoon in his area and he is an all too confident church kind of man. Of course father is always attracted to people who are similar to himself. Why doesn’t that surprise me?
I don’t pretend to be naïve, halfway through the whole exchange I kind of figure out what is going on here. Surely this can’t be an arranged marriage?
Bile rises to my throat.
Marriage. And I hope it’s me overthinking things because this can’t be happening.
Who does that?
I barely eat anything at dinner. I can’t. The man keep casting longing gazes at me. I feel terrified—the man is so confident and sure. I feel as though something is crawling on my skin every time he looks at me as though I am a ripe juicy mango he wants to sink his teeth into.
My wild mind snickers to herself- the freak has no idea what he’s getting himself into.
Mother and aunt excuse themselves to do the dishes. My uncles, well they always have something to do. Are they programmed robots or something?
Brother and father disappear in the study and I can imagine them with psycho like sinister grins on their faces behind the closed door rubbing her hands together with slightly popped eyes.
So I am left alone with Charles outside on the verandah. The night air is cold and the sky thoroughly starlit.
To think that this could have been a romantic scene—now a horror scene. All those stars could as well all be asteroids about to fall at once and demolish the entire planet.
‘You are more beautiful than they described,’
Oh well if it was father who told the poor guy about me he probably got all the wrong information a man would need to get on the girl’s good natures. And this guy so far wasn’t doing so well.
‘We can get to know each other first, ‘he goes on blatantly speaking of a relationship that was set up hours ago, and ‘I would really like that.’
I raise my eyes to meet his gaze. I push my glasses over the bridge of my nose- time to go in crazy mode. My wild mind smirks approvingly.
‘Do you really want to know me Mr. Charles?’
‘Charles please!—and yes—I believe you and I can be a good pair—your father is like a father to me.’
‘You don’t even know me.’
‘I know your father—that’s enough.’
What the hell does that even mean? Wild shrugs while throwing a popcorn into her mouth.
‘And I know what you have been through—I have no problem with that—it’s in the past—let’s leave it there.’
Why does it feel like this encouraging mantra is always coming out from the wrong mouths? It’s not even encouraging. At this point I can confidently consider it to be a sinister statement from a sinister human being.
‘We can go on a date first if it makes you feel comfortable with me—then we can meet my parents after.’
In-laws. Wild sneers into space. In-laws according to what I have observed in my twenty four years of life can be the worst human race to come into. Or the best. But with my luck…
‘You sound very old fashioned.’
‘Modest.’ He corrects me with a smile, ‘I intend to be a good husband and a good father.’
I resist the urge to drop my mouth open but wild’s jaw hits the floor—the man is actually decided on this issue. Father? Husband? I want to laugh hysterically while shaking my finger at him. As far as I and my wild mind are concerned, husband is not a thing that exists in my universe and the thought of me bearing children is like imagining the world being run by monkeys.
‘Isn’t he wonderful?’ mother gushes as soon as father walks Charles out the door. And oh my gosh is she really flustered?
‘he’s older than his age.’ I say because certain pairs of eyes are on me waiting for a comment. At least I said the truth why are they looking at me like that?
‘He is mature—he is good for you.’ Aunt says with an approving nod Don’t these two women know that I was born in the twenty first century not the mine industrialization? Who cares about mature men these days? No one is mature as far as I am concerned. Even the old adage of ‘wisdom comes with age’ is totally laughable.
‘I am going to sleep.’ I walk hastily to my room but I don’t miss one of my uncle’s words
‘Yes go and dream about Charles!’
I hope I don’t dream at all. But as soon as I drift off to sleep. I dream of dark brown eyes and that voice.
Classes go by faster than I could catch up with. Business ethics class arrives and I am giving myself a lecture and counselling on how I could possibly act normal after the man appeared in my dream last night. But Taylor does not come to class. I should sigh in relief but I feel so disappointed I want to cuddle a tub of chocolate ice-cream and wail in front of a sad movie. Maybe I could watch Sad Love Story when I get home. I could almost hear the song at the back of my mind and the urge for the good old Korean drama is very strong as I approach the house.
I chat a little with mother and aunt before I hop into my room and shut the door. I fire up my desk top computer and tap my foot impatiently as the thing is loading.
What the hell is wrong with me? Or maybe that’s the wrong question. What is wrong with Taylor? I had vowed to never pay any attention to anyone after my friends and boyfriend were murdered right before my eyes.
I hear it again. The scream. The most awful scream I will never erase from my mind through pout my lifetime. The kind that has no adjective to describe it. That kind of scream.
I see myself hiding behind a thick shrug, a hand over my sobbing mouth. I close my eyes and turn away but it’s helpless. I know what is happening and though my eyes can’t see it—my mind and all my other senses can see it.
‘Where is the other one?’ one man barks at another
‘She must have run off.’ The other bite back, ‘never mind let’s get out of here.’
‘And leave a witness behind?’
‘You are the one who killed them you idiots—this was just supposed to be a warning.’
‘That was an accident—the bitch bit me and I slipped.’
‘Guys,’ a third voice silences them, ‘let’s go—now—you can fight elsewhere and I don’t want it to be in prison.’
An eternity later I manage to rise from my hiding place. I am shaking violently. It takes my exactly ten minutes to navigate my eggs and when they move, I break into a breathless run. I don’t know where I am going—but anywhere would be better at this point. I come to the bank of a river and I halt. Even my sobbing ceases. I don’t know what I am waiting for but I stare at the river with wide eyes. The water is plashing harshly against the stones.
I hug myself as a feeling of dread engulfs me and twists all my insides. Just when I think that I am about to collapse I catch a glimpse of red in the water. Instinctively, I take a step back and my shaking hand goes over my mouth. As the object gets closer to the river bank I peer at it as it grows bigger. My breath comes out loud and labored and I inch closer—scared but too curious to not know what it is. A chill runs down my spine and the object finally gets nearer and closer and closer.
My hand falls from my mouth and the scream that erupts out of me tours through the thick forest like a sharp merciless knives.
My body jerks a little as the memory fades from my mind. For the past two years, I could never see it as a memory—it felt like going into a trance and reliving it again.
Forgetting the computer I crawl on my bed and curl into a ball.
It’s almost midnight and I’m sitting on my bed. Sleep seems to have eluded me so maybe I subconsciously decided to study the magnolia painted wall in front of me because I have been staring at it for a long time. My palms are sweating on the phone that I am clutching. I’ve been holding it for hours and I still can’t figure out why I am holding the thing as if it could offer me comfort. The internet could take my mind off things but I don’t want to end up opening a horror video on YouTube by accident. I am not just saying. It has happened.
Wild folds her arms and purse her lips at me.
‘Okay—out of all the things I could be stressing and sweating over on when I should be sleeping. Or to put it more precisely, the very thing that has brought insomnia upon me is Taylor’s number in my phone.
I don’t know why I want to call him, but I just want to hear his voice. I want something to forget my recent flashback and I chose Taylor’s voice. I don’t even know the man. What is wrong with me?
I remember his face when he said, ‘call me!’—I suck in some air. Maybe he has some powers or those alluring but dangerous characters. Vampires. In theory, they are beautiful-check—they seem perfect—check—they have beautiful melodious voices—check—they make you obsessed with them—check. And in the end I end up dead. Death by a vampire. I imagine Taylor’s mouth at the crook of my neck, his breath tickling my skin. I shudder and my heart picks up a rapid beat.
I shake my head—okay I am going insane now—wild rolls her eyes, Taylor is a guy and is doing a guy thing. Very smooth. I note.
I release my phone from the confinement of my hands and without thinking twice I find the number that has bewitched me and I dial it.
I want to do a deep evil cackle as it dials.
First ring—please don’t answer—second ring—go into voice mail—third ring—please ignore the call—fourth ring—
‘Hello?’
I hold my breath. He answered? What should I do now? Why did I even call? It’s not as if I didn’t study business communication—always have a reason why you are calling—the world is a busy place and prank calls can get you murdered or eaten by vampires.
‘Hello?’
Geez even modern technology which is capable of making voices sound different on cell phones could not tame his melodious voice. I think I can live now.
‘H-hello!’ I clear my throat—why did I call again?
‘Heather!’ I can hear the smile in his voice, oh he’s smiling, that’s a relief, and ‘did you miss me?’
No- not a relief at all. My heart starts to thud loudly in my chest.
‘You wish!’ my voice is calm—too calm for the situation at hand, ‘I just wanted to check if your number exists.’
There—now that the reason for the call at midnight has been established we can move on to the next part—which I have no idea what it is. Mental note—next time before a call make a damn plan first.
He chuckles, ‘you are just saying—so how was school today?’
‘What do you think? It was a blast—we have a cool teacher who ditches school after the first lesson—I have never seen such a thing.’
‘Really? You have never met such a cool person—you need more experiences.’
‘What kind of experiences?’ I am thinking beautiful vampires who can walk in broad day light and teach business ethics.
‘All kinds of experiences!’ his voice is almost inaudible and I feel heat all over me.
I clear my throat, ‘okay, now that I’ve confirmed that you didn’t run away—will we be seeing you tomorrow?’
‘No!’
Wild pokers her lips in disappointment
‘You can come and see me if you want—I’ll text you the address.’
Oh no – no- no- no…
‘No can’t do—I have a full schedule and I don’t visit people.’
NB, good looking teachers I have a crush on,
‘I’m no people—aren’t we already past that?’
He is joking—wild assures herself while fanning herself with a hand—the man is very smooth. Dangerously so and I am his next victim.
‘You are delusional—are you sick or something?’
‘Yes—I am in fact very ill.’
I scoff, ‘with what? Chicken flu?’
He chuckles. ‘Food poisoning—it’s not contagious don’t worry—I won’t pass it on to you.’
Why does he keep on insisting that I am actually going to fall on his door step? Doesn’t he have pity for my imagination? Okay time to end this craziness.
‘Oh well—get well soon.’
‘Thank you.’
There is a long a pause and I think I hear him chuckle soft before I lower the phone and end the call.
My phone lands on my bed with a soft thud and I begin to laugh—why am I laughing? I have no idea—I must be going crazy.
Not as crazy as I feel in the morning before school. I am in the kitchen preparing sorghum porridge. Google told me that it’s good to eat after food poisoning. It’s also healthy normally.
‘You carry porridge to school these days?’ my aunt scowls at me in a funny way as I pour the cooked porridge in a Tupperware lunch box and I pour some milk in a similar Tupperware bottle.
‘It’s really good,’ I answer her.
She laughs, ‘you didn’t put sugar?’
‘no.’ I nod, ‘sugar is not good for recovering—.’ I stop mid-sentence, ‘I mean it ruins the entire receipt.’
‘It’s better with peanut butter, sugar and salt,’ aunt says, her face twinkling with an expression that brings bile to my mouth, ‘you’d have to learn to cook it like that for your husband,’
Ugh! Right, the arranged marriage. I seem to forget it a lot for the past hours because it’s so unreal. There is no way I am marrying that man. In my mind I give myself a steady gaze—an incredulous gaze that says otherwise
‘You two are a good match,’ my clueless and right now annoying aunt goes on, ‘you are very compatible.’
I inwardly cringe at the word compatible—why do I have to deal with this early in the morning?
‘I have to go aunt,’ I quip, ‘I will bear that in mind.’
I am so furious half an hour later as I march towards the school. Why would aunt grin like a loon to me about the subject of marriage? I don’t believe in stuff like that. I am a fairy tale kind of girl—or maybe close to it. People say reality is not like that. Big deal—but if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with someone- shouldn’t I at least like them a little?
On a normal basis, Charles is just—just
I am still searching for the word when my phone buzzes inside my bag. Shifting my lunch bag into one arm I take out my phone. It’s a sms.
I stare at the screen. No freaking way. Wild claps her hands in delight. My heart is drumming inside my chest. He just send me his address.
Red alert—who does that? I mean of course it’s no big deal for him—the man is obviously a cold womanizer—girls obviously throw themselves at him. He doesn’t even need to put the effort. I could just be a next victim. I am the next target. Between the two of us—
someone is out of their wits unless he finds small girls with glasses and ugly clothes attractive then I am the loon following him around
Another sms comes in and my eyes grow wider behind my glasses.
See you soon—call me if you get lost.
He thinks I’m going to come? I chuckle nervously, I’d meant it to be a sarcastic laugh—
oh my word, even I myself am not sure if I won’t end up on Taylor’s front door.
No, I would never do that—I am too ambitious to ditch school to go to the house of my part-time teacher—I cannot be that stupid. I of all people should know from life experience that one wrong event can alter your life for good.
Wild crosses her leg on top of the other and begin to drum her fingers on her thigh—I know that I am blabbering, so I try another angle—invisible—I promised myself to stay invisible, I can’t blow out one month’s worth of success.
Wild rolls her eyes, oh please, I just want to see if he is alright—give him the porridge and leave.
Why is my mind running all over the place?
As I sit in the taxi on my way to Taylor’s house my fingers—twitch to my phone in my pocket. I should send a reply like—‘I’m on my way’
I scoff at my own absurdity—it’s not as if I am on a mission for Pete’s sakes.
I sit rigidly in the car seat as the taxi nears my destination. Besides the fact that I am ditching school and father would send me to a madhouse immediately if he ever finds out (and I would like to keep it in my best interests that he never does and remains in the clueless parent’s stereotype) I am suddenly stiff because this is just wrong on so many levels. And this neighborhood is a far cry from where I live.
Well it’s not Hollywood. Classy people make me nervous—well partly because the first rich person I ever encountered turned out to be a madman so who can blame me.
So when other people cling to rich friends I run a mile. Father once told me plainly that my mind works backwards. Well since he was the one who recognized it I suppose then that I got it from him. Genetic inheritances have to start from somewhere—it’s a scientific law. And I have the upper most respect for empirical studies.
Minutes later I am standing at the bus stop. I just stand there with a lunch bag clung under my arm and a tote bag on the other. I push my glasses over the bridge of my nose. It’s not like I am not so sure of where I am going.
‘Hey!” someone drawls at my right hand side, ‘what’s your name and where are you going?’
I press my lips together as I march across the road away from whoever way trying to strike a conversation with me. The directions are clear and simple because soon I find Taylor’s house.
It’s just as I expected. Large walls surrounding it, electric fence, electronic gate. I imagine there must be a dog too. Vicious dogs are intrinsic to the rich residence character. The thought of large scary dogs makes me shudder
I hate dogs—no- to put it more honestly, I am terrified of dogs. The automatic response to something you fear is hate—at least that’s my proven theory.
I am standing in front of the gate battling with my thoughts. Get out of here—what the hell are you doing here? Are you insane? Since when do you come to men’s houses?
Since now—I answer myself.
I am probably going against every protocol I’ve set for myself—what is wrong with me?
Maybe I really was bewitched—with a love portion—or maybe not that.
The line in Pride and Prejudice movie comes to my mind
‘You have bewitched me with your love and I love—love—I love you’
I smile at the thought. Wait what? — love? No that’s way too farfetched for me, my life is way too screwed up to even consider the existence of love. If not then what is this? Charity, I reason with myself, nodding in agreement—my part-time teacher is not feeling well—and he’s a dear friend of my Church’s youth group. I just can’t turn a blind eye when I can help humanity.
Wild throws her hands in the air—this is just so stupid!
The gate opens and I freeze. It all happens so fast that I barely have time to erase the lunatic grin I have on my face at my private joke. My eyes clash with Taylor’s as he steps outside with a refuse bag in his hand.
Oh shoot me now—crap—double crap. Well who cares?
Chagrin is not the best word for what I’m feeling right now. How do you explain showing up in front of someone’s gate with a huge lunch bag during school hours and only to meet the person at home in sweat pants, barefooted and taking his dear trash out. Probably minding his own business and bam—I am on his front door.
I feel heat going to my face. Dear God, this is the best time for the world to end.
Anything is welcome at this point—an earthquake, a tornado, a mad cow. Anything to divert Taylor’s eyes from my face.
‘Uh- good morning!’ I stammer concentrating on his eyebrows instead, I can’t survive the ambush of dark brown eyes right now, ‘you look better than I imagined.’
His lips part—surprise? Amusement?—say something damn it! You are the one who gave me the stupid address in the first place, so now here I am.
‘I recover pretty quickly—I have a strong,’ pause, small smile, ‘stamina.’
The word stamina sends heat all over my face—my mind is fragile at this point, I cannot take responsibility for whatever pops into my imagination
‘You should have said so—you sounded like you were in the ICU last night.’
‘Last night.’ His lips twitch, maybe a private joke, and his eyes do a painful slow travel all over my face and that leaves me surprisingly breathless as an impermissible picture pops into my imagination.
‘I was grateful when you called.’ He finishes as if he didn’t just throw my mind’s administrative department into the dust bin.
‘Don’t be—it was all trial and error.’ I say as nonchalantly as I can with a fading tight smile.
His eyes land on my lunch bag, ‘what’s in there?’
I hug my lunch bag closer, ‘lunch!’ I say quickly.
He fully steps outside, brush past me and goes to dump the refuse bag in the bin outside the gate. I just stand there still trying to collect my senses back into place
‘After you!’ I flinch at his quiet voice, I didn’t hear him come back behind me. And this is worse, I can actually feel his body heat radiating to my back—I search an old rusty memory of my high school science lessons for answers.
I hover in front of the gate—wild mind grimaces at me exasperatedly. I lift my right leg first to step into the yard as if I am about to wade into an overflowing river. I am terrified of drowning—there are worse ways to die. I know that with Taylor I am sinking deep at merciless speed and that cannot be a good thing but I can’t seem to help myself out of doing stupid things such as this.
I carefully set my foot inside as if I am afraid of stepping into a landmine, followed by the other one and hooray I am in—why am I celebrating?
I hear the gate closing behind me and I swallow a lump that is stuck in my throat as my eyes scan around.
Just as I expected, pavement, a small narrow flowerbed. Garage, bull dog—deck chairs on the verandah—wait a minute; my eyes rear back at full speed back to the open garage—bull dog? As if the animal senses my internal shriek it locks its eyes on me and snarls exposing sharp teeth.
‘Gah!’ I yelp and run for the gate only to bump into a wall. I fall back and Taylor catches me in time and crushes me back against him.
My senses immediately thaws as I subconsciously inhale him. It wasn’t planned, my face is on his chest after all and the soft cotton of his shirt and he smells—amazing. Like fresh laundry with a spicy tang mixed with body heat.
‘Don’t worry Hunter won’t hurt you if you don’t act suspicious,’ his voice is all but musical as he chuckles. The dog barks and that snaps me out of my impermissible reverie, I turn around to stare at it—Taylor lets me go and draws away from me.
‘I’m always suspicious to dogs.’ I croak.
‘He’s tied down.’
That relieves me a little and I audibly breathe out. Taylor is laughing quietly as he leads me to the front door.
Inside is warm, opulent and smells incredible. The TV’s on and it’s a news channel—
there are three paintings on the walls. The curtains of the sliding doors are drawn open giving a view of the narrow flower bed and the only tree in the yard which I hadn’t noticed before since Hunter freaked me out.
He asks me to sit and I tentatively sink into the nearest couch, close to the door because I may decide to run for it. There is a certain tension in the air vibrating between us and I may need to run before my wild mind takes over the whole scene and I do something stupid. Why am I even here? Obviously my right sense have long lost the battle.
‘Your house is nice.’ I comment, my wild mind rolls her eyes- obviously, ‘you live here alone?’
He glances around the living room, ‘no I live with my cousin sister—she’s currently in Ghana,’ he explains.
‘Oh,’ is all I can say—
‘That must be mine,’ He eyes the lunch bag
I push my glasses over the bridge of my nose, ‘oh-it’s uh—‘I stammer as I stretch the bag to him and he strides across the room to take it, ‘it mabele—the one you eat with milk—its good after food poisoning.’
He smiles, eyes dancing, ‘oh wow—perfect—my cousin knows how to make this and I’ve been miserable over craving for it since she left.’
I am way too relieved that he likes it. Or maybe I like it way too much that his whole face lights up with that smile—I’ll bring him porridge every time I can.
‘Oh that must have been very traumatizing for you.’ I smile back.
His smile falters and he steadies his gaze at me in a way that makes my smile to fall and I blink a couple of times. He seems like he is about to say something then decides against it.
‘You ditched school didn’t you?’
‘oh no.’ I place a hand over my heart because I am currently wondering what the heck is going through his mind and why this large parlor suddenly feel so small and why I feel very
vulnerable right now, ‘I didn’t exactly.’ My mind is running all over the place, ‘the first lesson is business ethics anyway.’
‘And your teacher tolerate absence on the register?’
I shrug, ‘I have good reasons—I am doing an ethical deed!’
He raises his eyebrow, ‘accepted standards of social behavior,’ he says it slowly like he is warning me, ‘this has to be acceptable right?’
Why do I feel like I know what he is talking about? I should take the bait and say it right out but I chicken out like the chicken that I am
‘So who food poisoned you?’
He tilts his head to one side and something like a smile is on his face, ‘I drank stale milk.’
I grimace, ‘oh my god—it’s good that you have an incredible stamina.’
He stares at me intensely and my mind runs into full gear trying to figure out what I said to make him look at me like that. And why can’t I look away from his gaze—maybe he really is a vampire—because at this point as seconds tick by and my legs start to twitch—I want to go over to him and be close enough
He breaks the eye contact and abruptly turns to the kitchen
‘I better do justice to this.’
As he disappears into the kitchen I relax into the couch and breathe out slowly. What is wrong with me? I place a shaky hand over my thudding heart and the click of a closing microwave makes me flinch. Why is it still a shock to me that I have no control over what I do when around him? I need to get out of here
‘Can I get you anything? I am not sharing my porridge.’ He is suddenly at the kitchen entrance
I manage a shaky laugh, ‘no I’m fine—I have to hurry back to school’
No—I have to run out of here before I lose my sanity
‘Okay sure.’
I stand up, fixing my tote bag on my shoulder.
‘Thank you for coming to see me.’ He says with a knowing smile.
‘Don’t mention it.’ I say quickly and I jump for the sliding doors. I don’t remember how I should open it because the thing won’t even budge as I try to pull it.
Taylor’s hand appears and easily slides the door open. I turn to thank him and I freeze. I meet dark intense eyes. My rigid body goes limp as I give up trying to listen to my better senses—wild gazes up with her mouth hanging open as if she is watching an alien spaceship as it is landing on the surface of the earth.
I inch closer to him as long fingers slowly come to my face. They feel like electric currents as they trace the contours of my facial features. My cheek bone, jawline and slowly shapes and traces my lower lip and tags at it. Why do that quicken my heart rate? His eyes fall to my lips and his breath hitches. I inch even closer to him and our faces are inches apart— his hand presses on my back and he draws me against him as my own hand reaches to touch his face.
I think he is anticipating my touch as his eyes begin to close a little and his head is dips towards mine. His mouth hovers over mine and I am about to touch his face when in a sudden movement his hand captures mine, opens his eyes wide and put my hand back to my side as he lets me go and draws away from me.
I am more surprised by my action than he is at this moment. He shakes his head at me
‘Heather—we can’t--’ his voice is strained
I’m not sure what my expression is like but I feel washed in rejection—which is completely unreasonable but it’s stabbing me in my chest that he drew away from me.
‘go back to school Heather!” he stares at me, his expression like he just entered into a room and shut the door in my face
‘I’m sorry!’ I manage to whisper before I dash out of the house and then out of the gate. I don’t stop running until I reach the bus stop. There I stop and I steady myself against a road sign pole. I breathe in slowly then I breathe out. What was I thinking? I wasn’t going to stop—I wasn’t going to object—I was going to do anything he asked. Fortunately Taylor had the right senses to rescue the situation—but that only leaves me with a serious dark feeling within me.
I feel empty. Well, I’m really not sure how I felt. It’s been a week now since the incident at Taylor’s house and I still can’t get myself together. I did the whole reasoning—with—
myself—lecture. I wanted to be invisible—and now I am, even to him. Why does that make me want to cry?
Sometimes I feel like I have been cast under a spell and I was just soaking into the soft cloud 9 of dreams, the rag was suddenly pulled from under my feet and I fell back to zero. Back to where I was before, but my world I have come back to is no longer the same. I erased his number from my phone only to realize that the eight digits were already forever stamped to my memory.
Whose fault it is that this kind of terror befalls me? I need someone to blame, someone to crucify.
Taylor keeps his distance from me throughout that week. I only see him in class and I keep my head low like I always do. Invisible, invisible, invisible. Business ethics feels like hell kitchen nowadays.
But because I have twist in my brain or something, I don’t stay in tune with the psychological contract. It’s Thursday after school and I just decide that I need to see his face before I go home. We didn’t have his class today. I fix my tote bag on my shoulder and I chew on my gum slowly as I make my way towards the business and economics staffroom.
I could have a mission impossible theme song blasting in my headsets for more effect but instead I have ‘distance’ by Christina Perri
The song fits and I do promise to keep my distance after just today. My sneakers halt at the pavement outside the small trailer windows as I try to see through the barely open shutters. I can see the fluorescent’s soft light glow inside. The desks and chairs are empty, most teachers have already left or are in a meeting somewhere.
I sigh in disappointment as I decide that there is no one around. Well I will try to look up in class tomorrow.
I usually keep my head down because I don’t want to meet his eyes by accident and remember that almost kiss. That afternoon will hunt me for the rest of my life.
I heave another sigh and turn to leave and start when my eyes land on him. He is walking this way chatting easily with Mrs. Sephutho, the accounts teacher.
Mrs. Sephutho is saying something and Taylor is chuckling softly, his hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on his shoes.
I take my precious seconds to admire him from where I am standing. He is not wearing a tie and his blue shirt is rolled at the sleeves. The song in my ears starts again because I put it on repeat, because I thought it would be romantic to hear the words while I see him from afar.
This is the correct definition of insanity. Maybe I am obsessed. My heart starts to thud loudly—since when did I start to follow men around like this? I should remember where I am coming from—I shouldn’t be doing this—I did screw up in my life along the way but I was raised better than this.
The self-lecture works because I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. I wretch the headsets from my ears and stuff them in my pocket. I feel so sick to the point of nausea. I adjust my tote bag and I turn to leave the other way.
Maybe I should just bunk business ethics. No—father would kill me and toss my body at the quarry.
‘Heather!’
I stop dead in my tracks. I should pretend that I am not Heather or that I did not hear her, but my legs decide to halt and wait for the disaster to happen.
I inhale and turn to look at the woman. Mrs. Sephutho is wearing a warm smile as she regards me. The woman likes me and I still can’t figure out why. Taylor looks at me impassively and I flash a tight smile at both of them
‘Mrs. Sephutho!’
She comes to stand in front of me and Taylor remains in the background.
‘Are you going home already?’
I nod,’ yes.’
‘Did you want someone in the staff room?’
‘Yes—but it seems all lecturers are out.’
‘The meeting just ended—who did you want to see?’
I blink at her and I try hard not to glance at Taylor but fail because my eyes fall on him and his lips part in surprise I think. Heat floods all over my face
‘I will see him—I mean her tomorrow.’ I say quickly
‘Do you have time? I have a student who needs tutoring and I am swarmed with work.’
I shake my head, ‘I’m afraid I have to rush home today.’
‘Oh? Okay—go home safely!’
I nod quickly, ‘yes, you too Mrs. Sephutho.’
‘Thanks but we are here for another three hours at least.’
With another jerky nod I rush past her and after a quick formal greeting with Taylor I rush to the safety of the corridors.
I groan as I exit the school gate minutes later a few people look at me strangely.
They can look all they want. I have bigger problems to worry about right now—he didn’t know I came to see him did he?
I don’t want to seem like a stalker. Okay—correction, I did act like a stalker but I decided against the path in the end and he was suddenly there—so I can’t be blamed for this small incident.
But it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t showed up at the staff room. Wild raises her eyebrow at me. The tyrant.
I walk past the college sign post and I am about to cross to the bus stop when a car speedily comes and halts in front of me
My mouth is hung open as Taylor rolls down his window.
‘Get in.’
‘Get in—I will give you a ride home.’
I shake my head vigorously, ‘no I am fine—I have taxi money.’
He sighs and fixes his hard stare at me, ‘get in—I need to talk to you.’
I don’t move.
‘Heather!’
Students and pedestrians begin to look our way curiously and suspiciously and that makes me even more rigid.
‘No!’ I say and I move back from his car.
‘No? What’s the point of refusing when you are going to come looking for me at the staffroom?’
My mouth drops open, the arrogant – I’ve already given up that course so I can’t be charged with it—I want to yell.
‘I wasn’t looking for you.’
He scoffs, ‘yeah right!’
Is he so confident of himself? The cocky son of –
‘Get in the car—do you want a scene?’
With a huff walk to the passenger door and get in the car. Not because he doesn’t look like he is going to leave me be—but because he is acting so sure of himself and I have just made it my life mission to set that record straight.
As soon as I close the door he steps on the accelerator and takes off.
I turn to look at him, ‘okay what?’
‘Why are you so annoyed?’
‘Why shouldn’t I be annoyed? You accused me of stalking you.’
He sighs as he slows down when the car comes to a four way robot intersection.
‘I’m sorry about what happened at my house last time.’ He begins, my face heats at the memory, ‘I crossed the line with you.’
I want to scoff—he crossed the line since the first day he met me
‘Let’s forget that ever happened.’
‘Your point?’ I snap.
He sighs, ‘I am not good for you Heather—I don’t see nice girls like you.’
He thinks I am a nice girl? Wild grimaces, he doesn’t know anything at all. But of course that’s not the point here—but I do beg to differ
‘Taylor—‘
‘just stop—I shouldn’t have made a move on you in the first place—I should have known better—stop looking at me and just focus on your studies okay.’
I don’t know what to do with myself but I just manage to gape at him. As if I already didn’t know from the beginning that I was never in his league. Maybe I hadn’t taken it seriously and that is why we are here at this moment having this conversation. And why does he have to turn into a parent on me?
‘Stop the car.’
‘I said I will take you home and that’s what I am doing.’
‘If you want me to stop looking at you –you have to start from right now.’
A long pause and he pulls the car over. Without a glance at him I pull my tote bag and leave the car. I fight the urge to glance back at him as his car drive past me. When he turns into an intersection I stop near a street light and I lean on it.
Another week passes. I am standing in front of the mirror running a comb in my shoulder length hair that took half of my life time to grow. Is it insane that I am thinking of the day last week that I was stalking Taylor? As I remember that I chuckle under my breath.
‘What are you laughing to yourself about?’ Judith enters my room and throws herself on my bed.
I turn from the mirror to face her, ‘Judith—you’re late.’
‘My boss must have been having PMS today because she was a pain in the neck.’ Judith rolls her eyes the grins, ‘you look great—you should dress like this more often—you are a very beautiful girl,’
I don’t have the fake glasses on and I did put on a fitting cocktail dress and wedges.
Judith already knows about Charles of course but not all the details. She likes him a lot, she approves of him by many standards.
‘Thanks—and decent too I hope.’
‘Charles is going to have a heart attack when he sees you.’
Wouldn’t that be liberating? Wild pulls a devilish grin. It’s our first date and I am dreading it. The sooner I get it over with the better.
‘So where is he taking you?’
‘I have no idea’
‘Details later—all of them.’
I shrug. For all I know there won’t be much to tell—the times Charles come home to ‘see me’ as he so declares—it feels like I’m talking to an older relative. He is a nice person but I just-
-- what am I thinking? I can’t dwell on those thoughts. What I felt for Taylor was crush, and the way my thoughts and heart races around him is called obsession. With Charles I can take hold of everything within me. My mental health is perfectly safe with him That’s how it’s supposed to be right? Yes—I’ve been in a relationship before and it never felt like that. But that is a wrong thought because it brings the memory of my murdered boyfriend back into my mind and I feel an old ancient ache deep inside my heart. What is weird is that it’s not that I miss him—it’s just that I feel guilty that they all died and I didn’t. I hid away and watched my friends and boyfriend being murdered. I should have done something—I could have done something.
How could I be here worrying about my feelings for people? I don’t even deserve to live.
‘Heather what’s wrong?’ Judith’s concerned voice snaps me back to the present and I see my reflection in the mirror. The look on my face is horrifying. I look like I have aged. I shake my head and breathe in and out—in and out.
I clear my throat, ‘just nervous about the date I suppose.’
‘Ah—why would you be nervous about that?—I wish I can also find my match made from heaven.’
I want to laugh hysterically at that but I hold it. I dab lipstick and nod approvingly at the mirror. As far as I am concerned, Heather died that night—I don’t know who this girl is—or why I am living her life for her. I used to dress up and socialize. I used to be bright and outgoing. I had life plans and dreams. I had daily goals and normal human problems and then it was all over.
Charles meets me outside the gate with a wide smile
‘You look beautiful—you are beautiful.’ He says as he opens the car door for me
‘Thank you.’ I say quietly as I slip into the seat.
It turns out that Charles is taking me to a fancy restaurant after all. I took my arm with his as we enter to find a table. I plaster a smile at something Charles is saying though I have no idea what he said.’
The waitress leads us to our table and was eat down, Charles says he’ll have a coke, I say water—I need water, I’m suddenly so thirsty. A lump is in my throat and I have to force it down.
Minutes later, the waitress returns with our beverages and menus.
‘How are you classes?’ he begins with the everyday anthem. And it’s getting old
‘They are okay—how is your business?’ I sip my water.
‘Our business.’ He corrects as always. ‘It’s doing great. I will take you on a tour very soon.’
By very soon he means when we are married and I will be Mrs. Charles. It’s a dreadful imagination. I just smile and I say nothing. Wild mind is sitting on a rag near a fire place with giant mug of hot chocolate her puffy eyes glued to the TV screen as Titanic’s final tip is drowning into the freezing indigo sea. I fell so sad—
‘I have picked a date for us to visit my parents.’
Wild drops her mud on the floor and it shutter into a thousand pieces. I open my mouth and close it again before I say, ‘so soon?’
‘Why wait? I have come to believe now that we are very compatible and you are right for me. I don’t see the reason for waiting.’
His words do nothing to me. They are supposed to be romantic right? But they are not.
Not in my ears. He feels like the second lead in a long Korean drama who can’t get the girl. You know, the second lead character who you end up liking because he is also good looking and seems to like the lead female character better than the first male character. Yeah I will need a Korean Drama marathon after this.
‘They will love you just as I love you.’
I fell nauseous. Love? I don’t know how to love anyone anymore—I ‘m not even sure I am really living most of the time. Love is like talking about buying a land in mars. Tailor’s face comes into my mind—crush—it’s a crush—I don’t love Taylor—heck I don’t even like myself how can I possibly love another human being?
The waitress returns to take our orders, saving me from responding to Charles’
declaration of love.
No I am not marrying anyone. It means I will have to have children. The thought of it makes me shudder. How am I supposed to take care or raise another human being when I sometimes feel like my chromosomes could be misshaped somehow?
I keep the conversation on him all through dinner and its over quickly. Soon he drops me off at my house after a peck on my cheek. I sigh in relief as his car drive away. Whatever it takes—I must get out of this.
Two weeks have passed now, I am still tremendously affected by my brief and chaotic date with Charles and heinous images that come to my mind and now my nightmares whenever I think of marriage and children. It’s a Friday and I am standing at the bus stop waiting for a taxi my tote bag in front of me and a small umbrella covering me. It’s raining hard with thunder and lightning. I hate thunder. Most people remained in the school buildings to wait for the rain to ease a little but I just want to go home. No reason I just want to go.
Must everything have a reason?
Something tags my umbrella backwards and cold water droplets hit my face. It’s not even windy—so what the hell—I turn around, maybe my umbrella stuck on something or someone.
I am as furious as I turn around and my eyes lock with Collin’s teasing gaze
‘What’s your problem? I retort
‘Whoa, she is tough isn’t she?’ a voice drawls at my right hand side and another guy materializes from the heavy misty rain. They are both soaking wet in the rain and are hovering over me.
‘What are you doing?’
Collins barks a stupid laugh and I have no idea what’s so funny because the other lunatic joins him.
‘She will do Collins,’ the lunatic says, ‘she is tough enough for this—good choice.’
‘Stay away from me.’
‘Be polite please little lady,’ lunatic comes close, invading my personal space.
‘Get away from me.’ I stretch my hand to push him away and my wrist is grabbed immediately. I growl furiously at such unwanted contact—
‘Let me go!’ I screech. My umbrella is suddenly gone, rain water is pouring down on me.
Soaking me wet. My other wrist is grabbed and I am being pulled.
I scream—its pouring hard, my small umbrella falls on the ground of the bus stop and I am being pulled to the woods behind the bus stop.
Panic now sets in—Collins keeps laughing—is he on drugs or something?
‘Come on.’ The other guy snarls as he keeps on pulling me with him. I keep struggling and I feel someone yank my wet hair and tilting my head to face upwards. I cry from the pain.
I am finally pulled into the woods ad Lunatic shoves me forward, I lose my balance and I fall on the ground on my back, the tote bag lands on my belly.
‘You seem tough—that’s good because if you are going to work for me you will need to be.’ Collins announces looking down at me.
‘Are you crazy?’ I screech, my whole body shaking from cold and anger
‘You need to teach the new slave some manners.’ Lunatic growls.
Collins holds up his hand, ‘it’s your choice Heather—we can be friends or master and slave and personally I prefer the later.’
I glare at him and I use my elbows and legs to get up from the muddy ground. I stand erect, Collins grabs arms and pushes me against a tree. Rain washes from the leaves and comes down on us. The cold water makes me wince but Collins doesn’t seem to care. Either he’s on drugs or I am having a freaking nightmare.
I stomp on his left foot, he curses but doesn’t let me go.
‘You little bitch!’ he growls and yanks at my hair
Oh for crying out loud for a guy with dread locks does he not have respect for hair?
‘Let go of me!” I scream again and I see his hand arc towards my face but pauses midair.
Even in the pouring rain, everything is quiet for a moment and we all hear someone shouting.
Lunatic looks around frantically before he dashes into the woods and runs away. Collins let me go and also run.
My knees give out and I land on the ground, slumping against the tree trunk. The rain is pouring hard on me—in my peripheral vision I see a man run through the trees distance away, I try to call him but my voice is too thick from shock and the cold rain. He vanishes in the trees.
Thunder rumbles loudly and lightning flashes across the sky. I begin to sob loudly—I don’t know for how long before I crawl toward my tote bag lying on the muddy ground.
I finally figure out that I need to call someone. It takes me a precious minutes before my almost frozen fingers are able to open the zip and I am surprised to find that inside is quiet dry.
They weren’t kidding when they said that the bag is waterproof.
I find the small inner pocket where my phone is. Thankfully the rain has eased a little, maybe I can operate my phone without killing it.
My backlight turns on—my vision is beginning to blur and I think my head is spinning and the letters are doubling on the screen. I can’t even find the contacts icon.
I decide to dial a number but my memory doesn’t seem to get the numbers right. So I punch in the number that comes precisely to my mind at the moment. The only number that never seems to falter even at a moment like this.
I press dial and he answers on the second ring.
‘Heather!’
He still has number?
‘Taylor.’ I manage to speak loudly and the effort sends a jolt of pain inside my chest.
‘Heather? What’s wrong with your voice?’
‘I—I—’ my teeth begin to clutter together from the cold and I press my lips together before I am able to speak again, ‘Taylor.’ Great even my voice is fading now
‘Heather—are you there?’
I try to speak again but my strength leaves me and my hand numbs, and falls on the ground, still holding the phone. My eyes are closing on their own accord.
Maybe this is the way I will die after all. Cold and in pain in the middle of the woods.
They will probably find my body after two weeks—if I am not that far from the road of course.
I stop fighting to stay awake and I close my eyes. I am going into a deep sleep—I may never wake up from.
I wish I wake up in that amnesia state where I don’t really remember where I am or how I got here but I am completely sane when I open my eyes. I know exactly where I am—I remember Taylor coming from the trees, soaked and wet from the rain. I recall clinging to him and begging him not to take me to a hospital or to my house and crying while doing it. I recall the look on his face at my odd request and I was very surprised when he complied with it. I don’t remember anything else after that.
Except when I think he was tucking me into bed and I whispered that he had the most beautiful voice I have ever heard.
I cringe—I actually said that? Oh hell it’s not as if I was drunk for crying out loud. Well I was a little—if not a lot delirious—I think defensively I sit up in the bed—okay so before I get out of this bed I verify just what kind of situation I am in. I need to interview my own senses.
First and for most—why did I call Taylor? My mind gives an automatic response—wild is sitting on a lounge chair wearing a facial mask and has rollers in her hair—that’s the only number you could remember.
Well the police, ambulance and other emergency numbers are three digits—but I forgot them all and remembered eight?
Okay—two—what should I do when I get out of bed? Should I just thank him or apologize? Why should I apologize? Because I feel guilty. The man has been keeping his distance from me and even tried to have a reasonable conversation with me about it and now here I am in his house—in his bed—I put my head in my hands and groan—this is so embarrassing—take me now!
Or I can just play the sympathy card. I was scared and wet and hurt and you were the closest person around whom I could trust. You are a good person who truly cares about people. I scoff and chuckle—no—Taylor is not in that category. The guy chased after me and then pushed me away, serves him right that I load all my problems on to him Or maybe I can just be honest—I could have called the police or the ambulance but the thing is I wouldn’t have described exactly where I was and the entire city if not country would have known that they are looking for me and my status of invisibility would have been doomed.
Speaking of which—how did Taylor find me? I try to think of the how and I find no breakthrough so I choose the sympathy card among all my options.
Yes, yes sympathy card it is.’
I slide off the bed, taking the room quickly. White bedding. A yellow couch, nice carpet print. It’s so opulent and sterile here. A floral scent of something like clean laundry and spicy scent is everywhere. I recognize that natural soothing scent. It’s all Taylor.
The rug is soft under my feet as I approach the door. There is no getting out of this—but at least I am alive. I will worry about the rest later—right now I need to clear immediate problem number one.
I open the door and peer into a dark passage. I gulp before proceeding down the passage.
I pass other rooms and an alcove which leads to another door.
The smell of food takes my mind away from studying the house. I’m not sure what it is—
but anyone can recognize the smell of food. Oil, spice, onions—coffee?
He is obviously in the kitchen. I come into the lounge. The only room I am familiar with here. I stop in the middle of the room—what shall I say first?
Wild mind raises her eyebrows at me—of course.
Good morning Taylor—I’m sorry I bothered you like this and thank you for doing this for me—I owe you—
Yeah let’s start from there. I inhale—the scientific scheme for calming nerves. Is it really scientific or medical?
Don’t be a coward—I tell myself. All I need to do is to walk in there, be diplomatic, thankful and straightforward. It’s done, then I can go on to solve other bigger problems—
because I do have them.
I breathe out and enter the kitchen with a confidence I do not feel. I have to be nonchalant or I will die from embarrassment when those thugs couldn’t kill me. Or before father himself kills me—because he will if I do not convince him that I was really attacked by two college kids and refused to go to the police about it,
Whether I survive this or not I am still screwed.
I raise my eyes and there he is. He is washing something by the sink, his back at me. My mouth drops open, eyes widening—not because he’s wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt making nightwear seem so interesting—but because he is humming to himself absently.
He has such a beautiful voice—angelic and soothing. These are the voices that are there to make music alive real and desirable.
He turns off the tap and turns—I am so lost in my reverie that I startle when dark brown eyes land on me. My breath gets caught in my throat, but instead of saying good morning I say;
‘You have such a beautiful voice.’ Wild looks at me funny, ‘I mean—good morning.’ I stammer and getting ready to plunge into my plan, ‘I-’
He walks to me, two long strides and his palms are pressed at either side of my face. My brain erase all information I was about to say and the words which were bubbling on my lips only seconds ago.
‘How do you feel?’ he manage to look so concerned for a moment I almost believe that I am dear close to his heart. ‘Do you hurt anywhere?’
I manage to shake my head. His eyes linger on my face a little longer then I think he looks relieved and he removes his hands from my face and rest gently on my shoulders. This was not part of my plan.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks again. Why should I not be okay?—I have a flashback of Collins and Lunatic in the woods—oh yes, I should not be okay—I should be traumatized right? But I don’t feel traumatized- just- nothing. I scowl at this.
‘Heather!’ he prods
‘I’m fine.’ My voice is calm—maybe I can no longer be traumatized, -- I am that screwed up.
He nods thoughtfully—letting it go for now. ‘Come sit and eat.’ He moves to the counter.
It takes me sixty seconds to collect myself and I shake my head, ‘I can’t.’ My reasoning is coming back to me, ‘I need to call home.’
‘Already done!”
I feel blood drain from my face. I can just imagine father answering my call and hearing a male voice behind it.
‘You what?’
‘Your phone died—I don’t have any of your family’s contacts so I called Judith—and she said she will take care of everything you just recover.’ Taylor scowls at me questionably as he speaks.
Judith knows that my family become a pack of wolves if I ever do something like this—
wild rolls her eyes—something like almost being murdered in the woods and being rescued by your tutor?
I nod at his unspoken question, ‘my father will be furious more than worried.’ Is my simple explanation.
‘okay—so now eat something—your mostly angry but not worried father thinks you are at Judith’s house—the rain was furious yesterday.’
I feel a lump in my throat. I won’t be able to say anything at this point so I just sit quietly at the breakfast bar as he does the whole breakfast thing.
In the silence and the sound of kitchen utensils it happens. Screams, cries of agony—the rippling sound of a river- lifeless eyes staring back at me—my own scream.
Maybe I was a little bit asleep earlier because at this moment I feel the heavy feeling come upon me. The agonizing giant wrapping around me and forcing tears to well in my eyes The first initial thing I feel is shock, as I replay the scenes, the second feeling is fear—the kind of fear which is mixed with relief of a rescue that arrived just in time. Maybe they were a part of those people and came back to finally kill me.
And after all that, I feel angry. The kind of anger that makes my body to shiver as it lands its spaceship in my territory.
But that is not enough. I am back at that river again and I hear my own scream.
‘Heather!’ a distant voice. Pretty freaked out person calling my name. Beyond that voice someone is sobbing loudly with difficulty in breathing. I am being shaken and that’s when I am pulled out of my trance and my eyes meet Taylor’s. He is holding my face with both his hands—
he looks so frightened—and then I realize that the one sobbing and breathing hard is me. Hot tears spill out of my eyes
Taylor pulls me into his arms. A fresh spasm of that heavy feeling washes over me—I am crying like I cried two years ago—only then I had my arms wrapped around a pillow inside a cell and my tears were that of a villain not a victim.
I grip fistfuls of his shirt and rest my forehead on his chest. He’s rocking me back at forth and his hand is hand is rubbing into my hair.
I feel the world spinning and I shut my eyes and exhaustion and darkness envelops me.
When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is Taylor’s anxious gaze.
‘I’m fine,’ I clear my clogged throat
‘You are not fine Heather. ‘He says slowly as if he just had an emotional rollercoaster of his own. Of course anyone would go into shock if they ever experience my flashback fits. I really didn’t think it would happen in front of him—it hadn’t happened in a while, what I experienced yesterday probably triggered it.
‘Initially I am not,’ I say with a sigh, ‘probably never will be—but I am fine now.’
In other words, whatever is wrong with me has eluded all named solutions and they all gave up therapists and counseling and settled into making me a church goer until maybe God decides to turn his eyes on to me. But He probably won’t—my friends died because of me—I could never forgive myself, why would He forgive me?
‘That doesn’t make any sense.’
I snort, he looks at me strangely—he doesn’t know why that is funny.
‘Sense is not something that exists in my lifetime.’
‘I can agree.’ His voice is thick—oh boy I probably freaked the guy out he looks like he is having trouble collecting himself right now, ‘I’m sorry to have to load this on you—but your number was the only one I can remember.’
He looks shocked or even close to angry, ‘how can you worry about that?’ he snaps,
‘what happened to you?’
The million dollar question. I only stare at him but I don’t see him because I am still trying to figure out why Collins and his friend attacked me.
‘Why did you refuse to call the police or go to the hospital?’
‘That would have complicated everything.’ My voice suddenly rise
‘Are you in some kind of trouble?’ he narrows his eyes—like he just can’t believe that I could be at the wrong side of the law. Do I look that innocent?
I sit up on the bed and I hug my knees, ‘I really don’t want to discuss this.’
‘Heather!”
You dragged him into al this so you owe him an explanation—wild raises her eyebrows at me—and he also had to deal with your flash backs—the man could have ran away or experienced a heart attack because of you.
‘I really don’t know what happened—I’m not sure if they wanted to kill me or rob me but they ran away before I could actually figure it out.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Taylor says with a shake of his head.
I look at him, ‘I was attacked but I don’t know the reason.’
He still look confused, ‘did you see the people?’
‘Yes it was Collins and the other guy is a new face.’
‘Collins!’ Taylor grinds his teeth as he sits up and is very close to me. Why should that bother me in a moment like this? ‘What did he do?’
‘nothing really, they dragged me into the woods and they were saying things I don’t understand—I think they were on drugs or something—he kept calling me his slave.’ My voice quietens at the last word
Slave! I have heard that word before in similar situations. The revelation makes me shudder.
‘I have to go home.’ I say quietly and Taylor grips my arms and turns my body to face him
‘You are not going anywhere in this condition!’
‘Condition?’
‘You need to report this—there have been suspects involved in drug trafficking and Collins is one of them.’
‘no.’ I say sharply, ‘I am not dealing with the police.’
‘Why?’
‘They never solve anything—they will have the whole thing backwards.’ I am shouting,
‘I can go through that again—I just want to go home and forget this ever happened,’
Why is he looking at me like that?
‘What do you mean you can’t go through this again?’ Taylor hold my gaze
I want to groan—crap that slipped out.
‘That—‘I only say and my voice grows quiet.
‘Heather!’
I start to panic. I left the country because I knew that the record I had will forever follow me around. I came here to try to start afresh—I can’t talk about that.
‘Please tell me.’
‘No!’
‘Why don’t you want to report what happened?’
Tears fall from my eyes. I don’t even know him why should I tell him something like that?
Because he will force me to go to the authorities in the end and they will see my record and it will fall on me again. Father will kill me and bury me six feet.
I was more afraid that he will also not believe what I tell him—but either way I am screwed. I look at him through my tears. He is not backing down until I tell him something. I should have just called an ambulance and feigned a slip and fall accident. Now what have I gotten myself into
‘Fine.’
‘Heather—I just want to understand—I don’t want to harm you.’
But he will hurt me at the end of it all. There is no two ways about it. I could try to run but that bulldog of his will eat me if I leave suddenly and then I will just be acting like a real fugitive.
‘Two years ago.’ My mind fully goes to that long dreaded memory, ‘I was in my last year of college.’ Pause, deep inhale of breath, ‘we were to graduate in one month time so we decided to take a little camping vacation. Rumbi, Violet, Casper, Stephan and I I remember that tour like it was yesterday. Winter had just ended and spring had set it with all the flowering and green trees. I am in the front seat, in charge on the radio and music. I happen to be a western culture fanatic as Rumbi my best friend would put it. So I decide that the best song for such a lovely drive under the warm weather is ‘crazy faith’ by John Waller.
Stephan happens to like the song as well and sings along with me.
‘Are we there yet?’ Casper shouts above the music from the back seat. I shift in my seat to look at him, Rumbi and Violet are grinning at whatever they are looking at on their phones
‘Still too far—you can as well sleep.’ I yell above the music
‘You are not the driver!’ Casper says, ‘you don’t even know where we are going.’
I purse my lips and turn away from him
‘Stephan where are we going?’
‘I’m not telling you it’s a surprise.’ He says his eyes on the road.
I pout. ‘I hate surprises—you of all people know that—how could you do this to me?’ I fold my arms.
His lips pull into a half smile, ‘because I love you and seeing you all worked up is kind of sexy.’
I scoff, ‘I should be enraged.’
He glances at me briefly, ‘Heather put your seat belt on.’ He looks annoyed for a moment.
Stephan is the ultimate nerd and is always careful about everything. I shift to the edge of my seat and lean forward to kiss his cheek. He casts a disapproving glance at me but then smiles
‘Please put on your seat belt.’
I smile back at him and then start putting my seat belt in place.
Three hours later we arrived at the camping site. I jumped and screamed when I saw it.
This has been a place I had wanted to visit for a long time. I even had pictures of this place in my dorm room and in my book.
The hill has so much historical significance and I happened to be head over hills with hiking.
‘Yes. We love you too!” Casper rolls his eyes when my screaming subsides.