We are seated on the grass facing each other. Exhausted by my chores, I found refuge in the support of Eucalyptus nearby. The cold breeze is blowing swiftly, creating musical symphony through the leaves. The small disturbances ironically are soothing to ears. It is a pleasant country evening.
She is looking at me.
Her complexion has always fascinated me. That pink shade surrounding her cheeks contrasts beautifully with her fair face. Her shapely lips are reddened by slightly increased blood circulation, seem fuller. They are underscoring the most joyful smile. She has lovely dark eyebrows. Often make me think of a virtuoso moving his hands graciously on his white canvas, drawing arches with black. Modest, curvaceous and smooth arches!
She usually keeps her hair cut short, rarely ever touching her shoulders. Today however she had pulled them back, which made her flaunt the delicacy and femininity of her neck without her violation.
I cannot resist myself anymore! I looked at her in the eyes. Those are glossy black in colour. There is a childlike glint in the pupils. Being caught eyeing, she quickly withdrew her sight. In quick succession her eyelids floated in action, like swift curtains marking the climax of a consummate performance.
I can more openly examine her now.
She is beautiful, like an angel.
She is…
It is the same acute surge in my head!
No! Please!!
The evening has stretched into night. The trees around are casting ghostly shadows in the moon light. There is no wind, nothing close to music in earshot. This is silence of the sinister kind.
She is staring at the ground. Her hair is disheveled somehow. She is panting. It’s more of a whining sound. I cannot look at her face.
Iddok: Are you alright? What happened?
She doesn’t twitch an inch. Her whining has grown erratic .She has not heard me. But one could hear fluttering of insects in such silent ambience.
Iddok: Look at me. I feinted. I don’t remember a thing. Please! Bida!!
Something is wrong. It is my fault.
I should have protected her. I would deplore myself for this.
I would not let anything happen to her! I love her so much!!
I quickly wrench myself towards her, place my hand below her chin and gently lift her face to my vision.
Her forehead is pale and blistered!
Her eyes are lightless? Struggling with the insufficient light I concentrate harder. No, actually they have turned yellow! The red of her cheeks have clotted green!
How could have all this happened? I am losing my nerves and senses. Something is taking over me!
She is crying. There are dark and viscous tears rolling down her cheeks. Those have now completely wetted my fingers and palm.
Baffled by randomness I get up and take a closer look around. Nothing, we’re alone. How long have we been here? Then I notice something, the tears on my hand, my eyes are wide with horror! I would not be able to muffle the gasp either!
AaarGHH…
Suddenly she looks upward at me. It’s clearly visible now! There is no skin at all! Somebody tore it off! Her eyes are wicked! The dripping blood has cut through the flesh of cheeks! She’s in so much pain. Somebody is pulling her facial muscles revealing the yellow decaying but pointed teeth.
No! She is snarling at me!!
She’s not Bida! Oh my god!!
He laughs aloud! It’s the echo of most evil and heinous laughter I ever heard!
Abob: Yeah! I killed her.
Unconsciously I somehow open my moist eyes. My rags are wet with sweat. I am in my cell again.
Nightmares have now become a routine and there is no lucidity associated. It makes them loathsome and traumatic. Sometimes I feel I can no longer distinguish imagination with reality.
I am sick, very sick.
