The beast in the picture✔️

Episode 8

Episode 8.

PRESENT.

"Going somewhere?" With sleepy eyes, Nelson asks. still laying on the bed as I step out of the bathroom with a towel across my chest.

"Yeah," I reply throwing a shirt over my head.

Nelson sits up, rubs his eyes, and glances at his phone, "This is just 7:00 am. Where are going to so early?"

"I'm going to my hostel. I-"

Nelson cuts me off, "Your hostel? Why? I told you, you can stay here for as long as you want."

Chuckling at Nelson overthinking, I reply, " you didn't even let me finish what I was saying." I laugh again, "I just need to get some clothes. "

"We could always order new ones," He suggests, throws off the duvet, and gets up.

He takes a few long strides and now he's standing in front of me, his hands wrapped around my waist.
Shaking my head in denial, I say, "no, I'm going to get my clothes. You don't have to buy me new clothes. You're spending way too much money on me."

"Money is meant to be spent, hello," He reminds me.

"I know, I know. But it's not necessary to get new clothes. I'll just get my clothes and I'll be back before you know it," I assure him and turn to the dressing mirror to comb my hair.

He sighs in defeat, "Alright then. I'll just order for an Uber to come and pick you up and bring you back. You might not meet me when you come back. I have one important lecture I can't afford to miss," He tells me.

"You don't have to order an Uber. I-"

He holds up a hand to silence me, "I'm ordering for an Uber whether you like it or not." He ruffles my hair. Hair that I just combed.

Throwing three punches simultaneously to his chest, I protest, "will you stop ruffling my hair?"

"Ouch," he feigns hurt and raises his hand in mock surrender, "okay, okay, I'll stop...for now."

I make to throw another punch to his shoulder but he dodges it and runs to grab his phone before running out of the room and round this big house. Leaving me chasing after him and laughing like a maniac at the hilarity of the situation.

***
I'm currently seated on Dawn's bed. The reality of the fact that Dawn is dead hits me again and I'm suddenly depressed. Walking around the room, I notice that Tricia has packed every single one of her things. Even bed sheets and pillowcases. There was nothing left of hers.

I stop to think. At this point, I don't even know who to suspect anymore.
Could it be Joanna?
Who had suddenly wanted to read at night and left Dawn alone?
Joanna who left the night class for almost an hour returned and just slept off.

Or was it Tricia?
Who always fought and argued with Dawn nonstop. They never agreed on anything. Never.
Even up to the night before Dawn died, they had a disagreement.
And how she just suddenly left when Dawn died.
Or how she was telling Joanna not to scream when we found Dawn's lifeless body.
And now she has left, for good.

Heck, this is all confusing.

Or was it the unknown person that called me after Dawn's death?
How she knew my full name and had my number, I had no idea.
I made a mental note to install the true caller app so I could at least get the name of the person.

I thought of Dawn's mom and how she had suddenly appeared with the police when Dawn died. Nobody had called her. Joanna was in a sobbing mess and her phone was switched off so she couldn't have. Tricia doesn't have Dawn's mom's number. So how?
How did she know?
The only time she had come to see Dawn in school was when we were in 100 level, during matric.
Ever since then, I hadn't seen her until that day.

I hated this. I hated that there was a war going on in my mind as to who killed Dawn and why someone would want to kill her and frame it as suicide in the first place.

I thought and thought until I couldn't think anymore. I craved nicotine.

I saw one of dawn's notebooks lying carelessly in the room. Picking it up, I flipped through the pages, glancing at Dawn's rough handwriting. It was then I noticed something.This girl never uses capital letters. Even at the beginning of sentences. I turned to the front cover. Even her name was written in small letters.

I brought out my phone again and looked intently at the picture of the suicide note. It was written in bold capital letters.

There was one more person I needed to see before I jump to any conclusions. Dawn's mom.

***
Dawn's mom was still in the hospital. I had gotten the information from one of the hostel guards. He gave me directions and I tipped him in return.

I had to lie that I was a relative before I was allowed to see Dawn's mom.

Her eyes were bloodshot, red from too much crying, and for a second, I felt intense pity for her.
When she saw me, she began chanting. "Dawn didn't kill herself. She couldn't have. Oh, my chidera."

Pleasantries weren't necessary, this could all just be part of her game.
"Who called you when the incident happened?" I questioned.

She hesitates before answering, "no one."

Standing with my hands in my pocket, I ask, "How then did you know?"

She sniffs before answering, "Because Dawn sent a text message saying I love you, mom."

One eyebrow went up inquiringly, "how is that suspicious?"

"Because Dawn never sends a text message. She'd rather call."

I admit that part is true.

Just as I'm about to leave, thinking this is all just a waste of time, Dawn's mom speaks up again, "Dawn has never said I love you to my husband and me in Five years. Not since we told her she's adopted."

I gulp inaudibly, digesting that bit of information.
"Where's your husband?" I ask.

"On a plane. He's on his way to Nigeria."

***
I returned to the hostel to get a few of my clothes.
Arriving home later in the evening, I tell Nelson everything that transpired today.
Who I suspect and why?
I tell him about Dawn's mom and how I wish to see her dad when he lands in Nigeria.
"You're probably overthinking this whole thing, Tems. What you need is rest." He said to me.

I said okay and went to the room to sleep, leaving him playing a video game in the living room.

I looked at the picture of Dawn one last time before dropping my phone on the nightstand.
Feeling a bit cold, I stretched to grab the Robb on the nightstand. It slips off my fingers and falls, rolling under the bed.

Groaning in frustration, I get off the bed and kneel, stretching my hand under the bed to look for the Robb, when my hand touches an unfamiliar object. Bringing it out, my blood runs cold and I feel chills running down my spine.

It's the same dagger Dawn was killed with.