Naomi episode 3

Episode 3

NAOMI

The visitation by the woman and her son continued.

During morning assembly one day in school. All the pupils were gathered together in the hall, singing and praising God when I heard that voice again.

“Naomi, come over here and eat with us”. It said.

I looked out of the window and saw her and her son standing just outside the hall. I took permission from the headmistress and went out to meet them.

Once outside, we went down to the field, seated, and as usual, I was given my portion of the banana and groundnut while she and her son ate theirs. I had gone halfway through the last finger when her voice interrupted.

“Naomi”. She called, softly.

It baffles me to hear her speak cuz ever since we started our meeting, there hasn’t been any communication during or after the meal. We always get straight to business. They call me out, I have my portion, eat it under three minutes, and take my leave immediately I’m done.

So when she called my name that morning, I paused for a while before I looked up. She was staring me directly in the eye. And that was my first time of exchanging eye contact with her while staying very close. Her eyes were red and burning like hot coal. When she opened her mouth to speak, I noticed the dark vacuum she has for a mouth. No teeth, no tongue, just darkness!. Fear gripped me, but I was too weak to stand up and run or even scream for help.

“Naomi, you have dined with the spirit”. She said. And with that, they vanished. So did the banana in my hand.

One thing I failed to mention earlier was the memory lost that follows each visit. They are only on my memory whenever they are present with me, but immediately they’re out of sight, I’d forget about their existence. So you won’t be surprised when I tell you that after their disappearance that morning before my very eyes, the fear that gripped me disappeared with them. I just stood up, dusted myself and walk back the hall to join the rest of the pupils.

Later that night, l found myself lying facedown on top a rough surface, like grasses.

Where is this? I asked myself while trying to adjust to the darkness.

I tried to stand, but my arms and legs seemed to be tied together. It felt so strange. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but no word was coming out from mouth either. Seconds later, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I discovered where it was.. I was lying in that lonely path, same spot I sat first time I dined with the strangers.

Fear gripped me, but I was helpless. I couldn’t move, neither could I scream. All I did was sob silently. All of a sudden, I noticed a giant figure approaching from a distance. My eyes widened as the shadow move closer with each step. But just like a flash I found myself lying facedown by the kitchen door.

Could it be a dream? It should be, though it looked so real. But then what am I doing on the kitchen floor?.The last I remembered, I had gone to bed after the normal night fight with my stepmom. That woman hates me so much, and I think I hated her in return.

“I must be sleepwalking”. I tried to convince myself

I got up, dusted myself and went back to the room.

That same dream repeated itself every single night. And each night, I wake up at weird places. Most times I find myself squeezed between two cupboards in the kitchen. Other other times, it’s either I was lying under the dining table or in the basement. Wherever it is I find myself, I would just get up, dust myself and hurried back to the room before my stepmom finds me.

One morning, I woke up, lying on the floor before the standing mirror inside my room. My heart beat loudly by the reflection in the mirror before me. Instead of my pretty self, staring at me in the mirror was a little grey mouse with red eye.

I tried to scream, but as usual no word came out. Just then the door was flung open and my stepmom popped her her head inside.

She stared at me disgustingly for a while and sighed.

“I told your dad you’re a witch but he won’t listen to me. If you’re not a witch, tell me why you would leave your comfortable bed to sleep on the floor. In front of a mirror?. Do you want to see how you look why sleeping or what?. She sighed.

….Whenever you’re done with your witchcraft, you go to the parlor, pick that 1 thousand naira I dropped on the table and go buy me egg and tomatoes from mama Ngozika. If you like, go and sleep over there, but just have it at the back of your mind that this story belongs to Joy Ifunanya you must complete all your morning chores before going to school”. She said. And with that, she was gone, banging the door loudly behind her.

I was still lying flat on the floor. I looked back at the mirror, and saw myself, not the mouse anymore. I heaved a sigh of relief.

“Maybe I was seeing things”. I muttered to myself.

I got up, dusted myself and went into the bathroom to clean up.

While we were together in the kitchen later that morning, an incident occurred. But something prompted it.

“You’re going to eat the leftover beans from last night”. She had said to me.

I took a quick glance at her, and looked away again. She was slizing a ball of onion into a plastic plate on the cabinet.

So who is going to eat the egg sauce you’re making?. I thought within me.

Beans was not my thing and she knew it. When mum was around, she doesn’t feed us beans, because she knew we don’t like it at all. She ensures to make us something different anytime she made beans which she seldom cook. But my stepmom has made it a habit of cooking beans at least three times a week. She would eat from it only once, and leave the rest for me. This started after daddy made her to understand that I don’t like the meal.

And beside, we have other foods at home. At least, there is enough bread in the fridge and also carton of noodles. She could tell me to make one for myself if she wasn’t being wucked

After she made the statement that the meal she was cooking was not for me, my mood changed instantly.

Such a wicked woman! How I wish that knife cut her hand. I thought to myself.

“Ouch!”. I heard her scream in pains.

I turned sharply to see her holding her hand as blood was dripping from her left thumb dropping into the plastic plate.

Dad heard her cry and ran into the kitchen.

“What is it, my love?”. He asked.

“The knife”. She cried.

“Oh my God!”. He exclaimed before leading her away.

I just hope it got nothing to do with my wish…

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