Eighteen O' Five {ONGOING}🇳🇬

•~~Chapter Fifteen~~•

“What does that even mean?” Olamipo asked out of curiosity. All she said sounded like she suddenly started to speak another language. I was figuring how to go about the addition and multiplication in my head.

“It meansh 1805 is the angel's number, my child. It asks you to remember that the angels only want to help you. Sho allow them to do so through reaching you with a strong and loving connection. I knew this through reshearch, too,” she replied.

“Mama, if it's called the angel's number, that means it's something good, right?” dad asked.

“Hmm.” she took another deep breath. “It depends on how you see it.”

It seemed to me like she was keeping us in so much suspense, meanwhile, I wanted to get the whole information at once.

“How?” I asked before she could finish the last word in her statement.

“When you recheive the angel's number, you might think it is all good to you if you're willing to pay the priche of courshe,” she explained.

Still confusing. Still keeping us in suspense.

“Em. Mama, that's even more confusing. You mentioned price. What price?” dad asked.

“You shee, my child, a long time ago, we have recheived the angel's number in this family, and it ruined us. It destroyed ush,” she replied.

“Wo–w... I'm really sorry about that. Do you mind telling us what really happened?” dad questioned further.

“I'm sorry, Titi. But if I'm going to help your friendsh, I'd have to retell this story.” she trailed her hands to meet with Titi's. Titi rubbed her hands tenderly in response that she could go on with the story.

She began.

“Shome years back, before Titi was born, her parents struggled to have a child. It was either mishcarriage or shtillbirth. They did every test, every medical shtuff they could, it all reshulted in nothing. The emotional trouble caused Dele, her father, to loshe hish job. Everything wash going shour for them, they had given up until 1805 showed up. Gave them hope to live again. “Everything will be fine.” That wash exactly what the texht contained. I don't know how, but a mere text from a shtrange shender gave them hope. I wash only happy to shee them live again, it wash all that mattered. Soon, Sharah and Dele had a baby, a baby that lived. Titi. She wash the best thing that happened to them, they were forever grateful to God. It even became better when Dele got a new job, a better one. Life became sho good to them. Thanksh to the angel of hope.”

“That was a good thing that happened to them, after so much loss,” Olamipo commented.

“Yes, it wash a good thing. It wash, for a while, until it all changed. Until a life wash demanded,” grandma said.

“A life?” I asked, curiously.

Grandma continued, “I wash ash confused ash you are now when Dele received the texht. We thought we were dealing with an angel, a hope giver, a lifeshaver. Little did we know we were dealing with the devil himself, a wolf in sheep's clothing. The one that doesn't give without taking. He had given, it wash his time to take. Mind you, they didn't ashk for that help. They never demanded anything, all they recheived wash an angel's number reassuring them, giving them hope. But that'sh 1805 for you, when you receive the number, you can't turn down its help. It hash chosen you and it hash to help you...with a priche. But you wouldn't know there ish a price until it asks for one. Just like how Dele didn't know the price was going to be hish wife.”

“His wife!? That's horrible!” dad exclaimed.

“Funny enough, the demand came through a texht, too. A mere texht, who would have taken it seriously. I wouldn't even do that to my worsht enemy if I wash asked to through a texht. Dele never took a word in the texht seriously, ash he shouldn't. It wash weird and awkward but he just laughed it off, he never acted on it. The devil ishn't the patient one, we all know that. Shince Dele refushed to pay hish duesh to 1805, the devil acted. He acted brutally on a night, their houshe went to flamesh, they couldn't get any help. Dele didn't make it out alive, neither did Sharah. It ish a miracle how Titi shtill livesh.”

“Mama, I still don't get this. You receive the number when you're in trouble, it decides to help you without asking, then asks for a heavy price. That's ridiculous. What if you don't want its help?” dad asked.

“My child, if it chooses you, I'm afraid there ish no way out of it. It will help and you will pay your price, or you get destroyed,” grandma said.

“Who or what is this 1805 exactly? How did it come to be?”

My dad wouldn't stop asking questions, neither did I, in my mind. We came, thinking 1805 was a mere date, expecting to get something short and simple for an answer then take it from there. Instead, it was looking way beyond us. None of what she said sounded real.

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