The Contagion

.4.

"I suspect the truth is that we all are waiting for something extraordinary to happen to us."

~ Shona.

As I wipe my face after visiting the washroom, my phone buzzes. I straighten my hair and pull the phone from my jeans pocket to check the caller ID. Myrel.

I groan before pressing the green button. "Hello?"

"Shona?" Her scratchy voice said from the other end.

"Yes, Myrel?" I say.

"Have you reached the station?"

I look in the mirror trying to figure out why she has called me. "I have. Why?"

Didn't Grandma tell her I left?

She chuckled. "No I just wanted to check on you hon."

Eh? I scrunch my face in confusion. "Oh."

When I check myself in the mirror, my eyes land on the stain on my scarf. I removed the scarf from my neck and wondered how the stain came on the scarf. Using my tissue and the mirror's reflection, I try to remove the stain. My effort to remove the stain went in vain as the stain got larger and darker. It was my favorite scarf! How could I be so clumsy while eating?

Removing the stain felt like scraping the nails off. The black lacquer I'd applied weeks ago was chapping off. Too busy in fixing my scarf and nails, I completely ignored Myrel on the phone. I looked at the screen where it displayed CALL ENDED AT 23:16 HOURS. Then my eyes went to my bare neck.

I haven't worn my pendant.

Oh no.

It wasn't an ordinary pendant. It was very important and close to my heart. I rummaged my mini bag pack for the pendant dumping out all the contents on the floor. But I couldn't find the pendant. "No-no-no!"

The pendant was a reminder of my mother. It was stated in her will that after her death, I would inherit the pendant, Grandma's house and farmland in Northern London. In short, I had most access to my parent's assets. I huffed in defeat and placed my hands on my hips.

Why didn't I check myself properly before leaving? I stomped my foot and pace in the washroom thinking what to do.

***

I knocked twice on the door, keeping my eyes to the floor. I hope she doesn't shout at my clumsiness. There was the clicking of a door upstairs followed by the wooden footsteps. I then heard the main door click and the door opened partially before me.

"Who's it?" came a sleepy voice in front of me. I looked up and saw Grandma standing at the door frame. Her hair was in a disheveled state.