My throat scratched. My lungs tight. My eyes ached, my world shifting in and out of view. The dearth of sound was deafening. My sides throbbed with pain. The smell of cleaning astringent swept into my nose, twisting my belly. The urge to retch gripped me once again.
I stood up from where I had sat down before, the small puddle of vomit tainting the smell of cleaning astringent with its pungent odour. The lights glared from above me, impaling my bleary eyes with sharp knife like rays. I blinked a couple of times and swallowed the remnant bile that caked my tongue. The blisters that had built up on my arms shuddered as the cool breeze that floated from the open window made contact with them.
Blood gurgled within my periphery, murky lines spreading out towards me in my mind's eye. I wiped the image clean but I already felt the nausea build in my chest. I stumbled back, my throat bobbing as if preparing for another round of vomit when I slipped. I landed on the floor, the acrid smell leaving a similar taste on my tongue.
The librarian.....
My mind fogged, the physical washing away as a memory drew me in.
"Who's my daddy, mummy?" I managed as I climbed into her lap. The bags that weighed her eyes made her look lifeless, her dark skin pale and cold against my hand. Despite the fact that she leaned towards sleep, I brushed her and she jolted awake.
Instinctively, she held me immediately, looking disoriented. "Huh?"
"Who's my daddy? Where is he?"
Her gaze left mine as she sighed, her shoulders slacking.
"Don't you want to play with your doll?"
I shook my head vehemently, gripping her shoulders.
"I want to have a daddy to play with."
My mom looked close to tears but she blinked them away. With a forced smile she said,
"You have a mummy at least."
I felt tears well up in my eyes and my mummy immediately pulled me in, whispering softly and rocking me until I finally fell asleep.
I blinked rapidly, my chest aching. I had gotten what I wanted. I felt a sad smile curl on my lips. But now she wasn't here anymore. I hugged my knees to my chest as I allowed my thoughts to go back to my mother. I really took her for granted at some point. My throat dried, I had been so obsessed with my problems that I had never seemed to notice her own struggles. The hollow look that had passed over her eyes immediately she saw me, hidden by the wall of a smile as she hugged me too many times to count.
You are the worst daughter ever.
That should no longer be news anyway.
I-
Suddenly, a chilling sensation sprung on me. My back tensed, my eyes stalked over my surroundings. The tears that had gathered in my eyes had dried up, the silence gained an eerie tone, one that caused my stomach to swamp with dread. The feeling of my frame being torn apart by a gaze, watching me, sent my heart into a flurry. My eyes skidded from left to right, barely holding onto the shadows that moved along edges of the furniture. I suddenly became hyperware of the sounds that hung below the thin veil of silence. The clinking of the blades of a fan, the rustle of leaves. My heart thudded faster as I stood on shaky legs.
With my shoulders already coiled and my breathing ragged, a scratch of the window sent me running off before toppling out the door and onto the steps. I gripped the railing, my nerves frayed and a headache pounding against my skull. The cold that breezed past me turned my legs to lead, unable to walk as a numbness pulsated down its length. Despite the initial numbness, I managed to trample down the steps, holding the railing like my life depended on it. Finally, I reached the ground floor and my legs almost caved underneath me.
Then, the lights blinked off plunging me into semi darkness. My heart stuttered. Trembles passed down my arms as scary images began to push into my mind, the chilling sensations intensifying on my back. The office directly opposite the living room still had a light on and before I could think, I was already stumbling towards it. As soon as I reached it, I wretched the door open, ignoring the pain that closed around my wrist before entering and closing the door shut.
My heavy breaths rang in the silence and I laid my head against the door, feeling the sweat that smothered my body. My eyes shifted to the light bulb which made me squint underneath the glare. Busying myself, my eyes roamed around the room. The first thing I noticed was a notice board, diagonal from me, the type that we usually used to paste results and special printed announcements.
There was a multitude of pictures on it, pinned to place by identical red pins and they were done in a perfect semi circle, each one had a question mark drawn onto it likely by a marker. My heart thudded faster when I saw a picture of my mom as the first. Unnerved, I moved over to a desk that was the same dark brown hue as the walls that enclosed the office. On it were a bunch of newspapers, stacked high. Right beside the stack was a transparent bag filled with clippings. I squinted and my eyes caught onto a bold headline in red.
ALEX COKER FOUND DEAD LAST NIGHT.
My breath hitched at the reminder. Something caught my eye and I left the fully packed yet well arranged desk to peer into the dustbins. I grabbed a rumpled piece of paper and unfolded it, what I first noticed was a tiny strip of metal with a very sharp end. The metal had a yellowish hue which morphed to a sickly green at the top. I sniffed, a strange odour wove around it, one that had sifted through the air the day that mummy had died.
The saliva in my mouth thickened. I dropped the metal on the table before smoothening the paper to be able to read what had been written.
Andrew, you're on your own now. The police, they're onto us.
My throat clogged with saliva. I swallowed it down as I continued reading.
I know I said I would help you and believe me, I would have. But I can't continue poking my nose in something that isn't my business. I know after Tayo died, you wanted to find the murderer and I understand that.
My eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Tayo? That was my mother's name. I continued reading.
Despite that, we can't continue with this private investigation or else we would be in more trouble and to be honest, I have a lot to lose. Besides that, between you and me, Alex and I decided we were both moving away, this place isn't safe and something tells me that something occultic is at work. It may just be a hunch, I don't know, I know you've never wanted anything to do with the supernatural, so don't take my words to heart. And do take time to look at the metal I found in Gideon's blood. There's something about it that doesn't feel....... right and quite frankly, it's been in the blood of every single victim. That alone is off.
Sorry that I'm communicating all this to you with paper but this would have to do. Plus, I don't see myself saying this to you because you do have a very scary face. Stay safe! This should blow over soon enough, hopefully. Daniel.
"Why are you in here?"
My head snapped to meet the man's gaze and the new information rattled within my brain.
"Private investigation?"
Immediately his eyes narrowed and he almost lunged at me, grabbing the paper from my hand with a grunt.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you to not go through people's belongings?" He bit out.
My hands tightened.
Didn't your mom ever teach you not to pack up and leave your pregnant girlfriend?
I kept quiet, steeling my turbulent emotions. The sight of this man after hours of being up in his room, thinking over the most shocking revelation, made only anger to envelope every fibre of my body.
"At least the letter explains what all this is for." He pushed past me and went behind the desk and lowered himself into a chair.
"I thought you were a murderer." The word was bitter in my mouth, like chewing a malaria drug and swallowing it down.
He looked on, unfazed.
"Blunt, much? You aren't one to state your thoughts."
"You never knew me to begin with."
"Never said I did. Plus, I observe people, so it's pretty obvious."
Resigned, I sighed. My eyes trailed to the notice board, eyeing all the pictures before looking back at him. He stared off into space, his hands folded.
"So....did you really kill any of these people?" I asked quietly, still unsure as to what was really in his mind. A tightness grabbed my throat as soon as the words left my mouth.
"Wouldn't I have killed you by now, if I really was a murderer?"
"Then why did you bring me here?"
"I saw you faint in the middle of the road at night, was I supposed to leave you outside? Besides, I had been looking for a chance to... tell you." He leaned into the chair as he looked away from me.
To tell you that he was your runaway father.
I looked away from him, not wanting to approach the topic. I cleared my throat, my words flowing out before doubt could stop them.
"Do you really believe what the man said? About the murders being perpetrated by something more.... occultic?"
"You've certainly become more talkative, interesting."
What was with this man and not answering directly?
"An-" I clamped my mouth shut, still unsure of what I should call him. Father was absolutely out of the question, he didn't deserve it.
Just like you don't deserve to walk on this earth.
Like father, like daughter, both cowards. Who knew cowardice was inheritable?
"I don't know. I just-"
A loud knock resounded on the door, outside of the office. I almost jumped out of my skin in fright, not expecting it. He gave me a look before standing up and moving out of the office and across the living room. I watched him stop at the white door before pulling it open.
"Who are you and what do you want?" I heard him ask gruffly.
"Someone that won't cause you any harm. Zara knows me." I heard a familiar voice say and I strode from where I had been standing in the office, my head still throbbing with pain.
"Pastor Chris?"
He flashed a wide smile.
"Wonderful seeing you again."
Chapter word count: 1838
Word count: 23,339
I want to thank God for giving me the Grace to write this. So, what do you think of this book so far?