Chai Pov
I ran past Redcoat Mosque and over to our building. I get a message from Mae saying Bunga left her new dress with her so I text that info to Bunga.
Did I really basically say that Bunga is my ideal type too Bunga?!
My brain is overloaded with embarrassed thoughts, possible outcomes and numerous voices contemplating whether this was a good or bad thing.
After finally reaching the top of the stairs to the top floor, I unlock the door and hear the TV playingg in the living room. I also hear my dad's voice talking to someone on the phone, "It's all over the news, Vusumuzi!" he says. "Weren't you notified on her release?"
Without taking off my shoes, I run into the living room.
"Chai! Rang tao!" (shoes!)
Untentionally, ignoring my dad, my mind is entirely focused on the TV.
"Bailey Howard was released from prison after an 8 year sentence on the grounds of suffering from Brief Psychotic Disorder, commonly known 'Temporary Psychosis' after losing two of her children to the corona virus, Howard crashed her car into one belonging to her Asian neighbour and then proceeded to abduct the child of hte driver. Howard originally pleaded guilty, however after numerous psychological evaluations, Howard had been diagnosed with BPD and after seven out of eight years of good behaviour has now been released."
The TV suddenly turns off then a scream echoes through Phaaw's phone.
"Bunga!" I yell and run out of the room again and out of the flat down the stairs.
I push past Mae and the kids, "Chai? Where are you going?" Mae yells down to me but I'm too panicked to respond. I storm out of the building and across the street. The road had been clear thankfully.
I leap over the small wall that separated the grassy patch in front of Bunga's building from the street and climbed onto the ground floor balcony beneath Bunga's.
I barely register Mae's friend, Auntie Aliya;s shocked yelp as I use her balcony to reach up to Bunga's, pulling myself up bit by bit until I'm finally in the balcony.
The door was already open so I run straight through and head into the small living room to see Bunga screaming, her arms, covered in blood.
YOU ARE READING
That Melody
Teen FictionWhat do you do when your mum's favourite song becomes the source of your trauma? Bunga can't listen to that melody anymore, not without having a PTSD episode, what used to be a part of her happy memories were twisted and contorted into painful ones...
