JACOB

CHAPTER ONE

At least I tried to do the right thing; maybe I should have done more. In what world would I have imagined myself in this situation? I was no stranger to evil, but it certainly found its ways around my hands even when I tried so hard to keep as far away from it as possible. It had been years since I’d fought something like this, the lime bitter taste of evil and darkness begun to melt in my mouth as I recalled the screams of this man lying on this floor. He was a one of a kind but If one thing is clear, it is that I was not going to let myself fall into the rabbit hole like last time. This was not the end, I knew that and I was not ready.

“JJ! Come one, let’s go! We’re gonna be late, this is the last dinner we are to perform and I do not want to be late.” Carol screamed my name like it was a recital song, I swear this girl could be opera singer; her voice was so loud it literally woke me up in the middle of the night. “Am coming!” This was our last night we were to perform as a duo and the club was so proud of us. Carol signed me in, I honestly was not interested in joining this group as they looked like a bunch of nerds in high school costumes of clowns. Nevertheless, it certainly marked as a memory I was to cherish for the rest of my life. I could not be happier. My last college was less fun and all the kids did in their spare time was drink and smoke weed. It was not my style of living but I did not deny myself the pleasure of trying. I got to meet a few cute boys and made out with some of the hottest boys on the campus. My best friend had a taste for foreigners, and she was currently dating a zim guy with dark skin. She always bragged about how huge his dick was and how it made her life, I just never understood her obsession with them, they had bad taste in music and were very loud. To me that was a red flag a hundred percent. My name is Jacob but my friends call me JJ and am a nineteen-year-old female student in KZN University in South Africa. I come from a family of the Nguni tribe, my father side of the family took up the title of Xhosa people, and they are heavy believers in ancestors and spiritual seers. From the time I could remember seeing and hearing with my very two ears, I have been told that I should respect my elders and more especially my ancestors. I did not believe in them, I mean these were beliefs about dead people who apparently could still communicate with us in the spirit world. To me that just sounded like a bunch of people who seriously need a psychiatric evaluation because they were crazy. I did not believe in ancestors, I did not see them and then one day when I was nine as I was sleeping in my parents bed room I felt the door open and in walked a dark skin woman barefoot and looked so familiar. She came over to my bed, I saw myself sitting up, and she sat on the floor as if she was sitting on a mat. She greeted me and I greeted her back, then we talked about why I was so unhappy that I was supposed to go to boarding school. Weirdly enough I was comfortable to tell this woman about my problems even though she was a complete stranger and she was nice enough to listen without getting irritated with my rambling. After I was done with the story, she told me not to be afraid and that whatever happened she would always be there for me. She then got up and just the way she came in she walked out of the door not taking anything or even touching me. To me all this was happening in real time, it was only when my sister woke me up that I realised that I had been dreaming. I was so confused about the dream so I told my mother about it and she just smiled in my face and said I finally met my ancestors. She told my father and he looked so happy that I finally got to meet our ancestors but to me they all looked crazy. They probable sent someone into the room while I was sleeping and that person probably woke me up so I could talk with them. However, strangely enough the woman barely touched me and when she was opening the bedroom door I heard it and kind of saw it at the same time. It was strange; it was as if I was already awake when the woman was at the door and I could see her opening the door from outside and walking in. As my thoughts arranged themselves to make more sense of what I had seen the fear begun to creep in that I just saw a dead person, that person was talking to me, and I was not terrified of them when we were talking. It dawned on me that I had actually seen an ancestor and they knew about me and they cared enough to check up on me. Seeing how the woman did not attack or try to kill me, my belief in them began to set in and I was less sceptical about our tribe’s beliefs.