THE EVIL BRIDESMAID
**CHAPTER TEN**
Linda’s revelation about Pastor Paul had given us a glimmer of hope, but it came with its own set of challenges. “He’s a man of faith, known for prophecies that often come true,” she had said. “But he only speaks to those within his flock.”
Willy, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. “So we’re supposed to join his church? Just like that?”
Linda nodded, her eyes serious. “Yes. It’s the only way. We need to show our commitment if we want his help.”
We decided to take the leap, attending services and becoming part of the congregation, hoping that Pastor Paul would see our sincerity and agree to help us.
One evening, after returning from a particularly stirring sermon, I found Mr. Leo, my neighbor who was known to enjoy his liquor more than most, engaged in a one-sided conversation outside his house.
“Mr. Leo, who are you talking to?” I asked, half expecting him to say he was rehearsing lines for a play.
He took a long drink before answering, his voice slurred but earnest. “The Evil Bridesmaid,” he declared, gesturing to the empty space beside him. “She’s the evil Bridesmaid, and she’s not done with us yet.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “And what does this Ghost have to say?”
Mr. Leo leaned in close, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. “She says we haven’t seen the worst of her yet. She’s got plans, big plans.”
I shook my head, amused by his antics. “Well, let’s hope she’s just bluffing.”
As I turned to head back inside, a sudden, frantic knocking on my door cut through the quiet of the night.
“Who’s there?” I called out, my heart starting to race.
“It’s me, Derrick,” came the anxious reply.
I opened the door to find Derrick standing there, his face ghostly pale under the moonlight. “Aunty, I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice quivering with urgency. “It’s about the curse…”
His words sent a chill down my spine. I ushered him inside, my mind racing with possibilities. What had Derrick discovered? Could it be a clue to breaking the curse once and for all?
As Derrick took a seat, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “I was coming going back to school when I met this Aunty with blood all over her. ” She also handed a paper.” he began, unfolding the paper to reveal a series of scribbled notes. “It’s about Quincy’s family history. There’s a man and his son mentioned here, just like the pastor said.”
We poured over the notes, deciphering the scribbles and trying to piece together the puzzle. The man and his son were key to lifting the curse, but how were we to find them?
The night grew deeper as we discussed our next steps.
Just as we were about to call it a night, another knock sounded at the door. This time, it was soft, almost hesitant.
“Who’s there?” I asked, a sense of foreboding settling over me.
There was a pause, and then a voice replied, “It’s Linda. I have news about the pastor.”
I opened the door to find Linda standing there, a troubled look on her face. “Pastor Paul had a vision,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He saw a storm coming, a storm tied to the curse. We need to act fast.”
The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but with each new revelation, the danger seemed to grow. We were in a race against time, and the evil Bridesmaid was not going to make it easy for us.
The next day we had to go see the pastor and also to pray with him in order to uplift this curse, but we were shock by the population we met at his house. People were rushing in and out in disbelief. The pastor was death. On the table was a paper which read, “the only man and only boy who can see the ghost”
TO BE CONTINUED
