Classes go by faster than I could catch up with. Business ethics class arrives and I am giving myself a lecture and counselling on how I could possibly act normal after the man appeared in my dream last night. But Taylor does not come to class. I should sigh in relief but I feel so disappointed I want to cuddle a tub of chocolate ice-cream and wail in front of a sad movie. Maybe I could watch Sad Love Story when I get home. I could almost hear the song at the back of my mind and the urge for the good old Korean drama is very strong as I approach the house.
I chat a little with mother and aunt before I hop into my room and shut the door. I fire up my desk top computer and tap my foot impatiently as the thing is loading.
What the hell is wrong with me? Or maybe that’s the wrong question. What is wrong with Taylor? I had vowed to never pay any attention to anyone after my friends and boyfriend were murdered right before my eyes.
I hear it again. The scream. The most awful scream I will never erase from my mind through pout my lifetime. The kind that has no adjective to describe it. That kind of scream.
I see myself hiding behind a thick shrug, a hand over my sobbing mouth. I close my eyes and turn away but it’s helpless. I know what is happening and though my eyes can’t see it—my mind and all my other senses can see it.
‘Where is the other one?’ one man barks at another
‘She must have run off.’ The other bite back, ‘never mind let’s get out of here.’
‘And leave a witness behind?’
‘You are the one who killed them you idiots—this was just supposed to be a warning.’
‘That was an accident—the bitch bit me and I slipped.’
‘Guys,’ a third voice silences them, ‘let’s go—now—you can fight elsewhere and I don’t want it to be in prison.’
An eternity later I manage to rise from my hiding place. I am shaking violently. It takes my exactly ten minutes to navigate my eggs and when they move, I break into a breathless run. I don’t know where I am going—but anywhere would be better at this point. I come to the bank of a river and I halt. Even my sobbing ceases. I don’t know what I am waiting for but I stare at the river with wide eyes. The water is plashing harshly against the stones.
I hug myself as a feeling of dread engulfs me and twists all my insides. Just when I think that I am about to collapse I catch a glimpse of red in the water. Instinctively, I take a step back and my shaking hand goes over my mouth. As the object gets closer to the river bank I peer at it as it grows bigger. My breath comes out loud and labored and I inch closer—scared but too curious to not know what it is. A chill runs down my spine and the object finally gets nearer and closer and closer.
My hand falls from my mouth and the scream that erupts out of me tours through the thick forest like a sharp merciless knives.
My body jerks a little as the memory fades from my mind. For the past two years, I could never see it as a memory—it felt like going into a trance and reliving it again.
Forgetting the computer I crawl on my bed and curl into a ball.
It’s almost midnight and I’m sitting on my bed. Sleep seems to have eluded me so maybe I subconsciously decided to study the magnolia painted wall in front of me because I have been staring at it for a long time. My palms are sweating on the phone that I am clutching. I’ve been holding it for hours and I still can’t figure out why I am holding the thing as if it could offer me comfort. The internet could take my mind off things but I don’t want to end up opening a horror video on YouTube by accident. I am not just saying. It has happened.
Wild folds her arms and purse her lips at me.
‘Okay—out of all the things I could be stressing and sweating over on when I should be sleeping. Or to put it more precisely, the very thing that has brought insomnia upon me is Taylor’s number in my phone.
I don’t know why I want to call him, but I just want to hear his voice. I want something to forget my recent flashback and I chose Taylor’s voice. I don’t even know the man. What is wrong with me?
I remember his face when he said, ‘call me!’—I suck in some air. Maybe he has some powers or those alluring but dangerous characters. Vampires. In theory, they are beautiful- check—they seem perfect—check—they have beautiful melodious voices—check—they make you obsessed with them—check. And in the end I end up dead. Death by a vampire. I imagine Taylor’s mouth at the crook of my neck, his breath tickling my skin. I shudder and my heart picks up a rapid beat.
I shake my head—okay I am going insane now—wild rolls her eyes, Taylor is a guy and is doing a guy thing. Very smooth. I note.
I release my phone from the confinement of my hands and without thinking twice I find the number that has bewitched me and I dial it.
I want to do a deep evil cackle as it dials.
First ring—please don’t answer—second ring—go into voice mail—third ring—please ignore the call—fourth ring—
‘Hello?’
I hold my breath. He answered? What should I do now? Why did I even call? It’s not as if I didn’t study business communication—always have a reason why you are calling—the world is a busy place and prank calls can get you murdered or eaten by vampires.
‘Hello?’
Geez even modern technology which is capable of making voices sound different on cell phones could not tame his melodious voice. I think I can live now.
‘H-hello!’ I clear my throat—why did I call again?
‘Heather!’ I can hear the smile in his voice, oh he’s smiling, that’s a relief, and ‘did you miss me?’
No- not a relief at all. My heart starts to thud loudly in my chest.
‘You wish!’ my voice is calm—too calm for the situation at hand, ‘I just wanted to check if your number exists.’
There—now that the reason for the call at midnight has been established we can move on to the next part—which I have no idea what it is. Mental note—next time before a call make a damn plan first.
He chuckles, ‘you are just saying—so how was school today?’
‘What do you think? It was a blast—we have a cool teacher who ditches school after the first lesson—I have never seen such a thing.’
‘Really? You have never met such a cool person—you need more experiences.’
‘What kind of experiences?’ I am thinking beautiful vampires who can walk in broad day light and teach business ethics.
‘All kinds of experiences!’ his voice is almost inaudible and I feel heat all over me.
I clear my throat, ‘okay, now that I’ve confirmed that you didn’t run away—will we be seeing you tomorrow?’
‘No!’
Wild pokers her lips in disappointment
‘You can come and see me if you want—I’ll text you the address.’
Oh no – no- no- no…
‘No can’t do—I have a full schedule and I don’t visit people.’
NB, good looking teachers I have a crush on,
‘I’m no people—aren’t we already past that?’
He is joking—wild assures herself while fanning herself with a hand—the man is very smooth. Dangerously so and I am his next victim.
‘You are delusional—are you sick or something?’
‘Yes—I am in fact very ill.’
I scoff, ‘with what? Chicken flu?’
He chuckles. ‘Food poisoning—it’s not contagious don’t worry—I won’t pass it on to you.’
Why does he keep on insisting that I am actually going to fall on his door step? Doesn’t he have pity for my imagination? Okay time to end this craziness.
‘Oh well—get well soon.’
‘Thank you.’
There is a long a pause and I think I hear him chuckle soft before I lower the phone and end the call.
My phone lands on my bed with a soft thud and I begin to laugh—why am I laughing? I have no idea—I must be going crazy.
Not as crazy as I feel in the morning before school. I am in the kitchen preparing sorghum porridge. Google told me that it’s good to eat after food poisoning. It’s also healthy normally.
‘You carry porridge to school these days?’ my aunt scowls at me in a funny way as I pour the cooked porridge in a Tupperware lunch box and I pour some milk in a similar Tupperware bottle.
‘It’s really good,’ I answer her.
She laughs, ‘you didn’t put sugar?’
‘no.’ I nod, ‘sugar is not good for recovering—.’ I stop mid-sentence, ‘I mean it ruins the entire receipt.’
‘It’s better with peanut butter, sugar and salt,’ aunt says, her face twinkling with an expression that brings bile to my mouth, ‘you’d have to learn to cook it like that for your husband,’
Ugh! Right, the arranged marriage. I seem to forget it a lot for the past hours because it’s so unreal. There is no way I am marrying that man. In my mind I give myself a steady gaze—an incredulous gaze that says otherwise
‘You two are a good match,’ my clueless and right now annoying aunt goes on, ‘you are very compatible.’
I inwardly cringe at the word compatible—why do I have to deal with this early in the morning?
‘I have to go aunt,’ I quip, ‘I will bear that in mind.’
I am so furious half an hour later as I march towards the school. Why would aunt grin like a loon to me about the subject of marriage? I don’t believe in stuff like that. I am a fairy tale kind of girl—or maybe close to it. People say reality is not like that. Big deal—but if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with someone- shouldn’t I at least like them a little?
On a normal basis, Charles is just—just
I am still searching for the word when my phone buzzes inside my bag. Shifting my lunch bag into one arm I take out my phone. It’s a sms.
I stare at the screen. No freaking way. Wild claps her hands in delight. My heart is drumming inside my chest. He just send me his address.
Red alert—who does that? I mean of course it’s no big deal for him—the man is obviously a cold womanizer—girls obviously throw themselves at him. He doesn’t even need to put the effort. I could just be a next victim. I am the next target. Between the two of us—someone is out of their wits unless he finds small girls with glasses and ugly clothes attractive then I am the loon following him around
Another sms comes in and my eyes grow wider behind my glasses.
See you soon—call me if you get lost.
He thinks I’m going to come? I chuckle nervously, I’d meant it to be a sarcastic laugh—oh my word, even I myself am not sure if I won’t end up on Taylor’s front door.
No, I would never do that—I am too ambitious to ditch school to go to the house of my part-time teacher—I cannot be that stupid. I of all people should know from life experience that one wrong event can alter your life for good.
Wild crosses her leg on top of the other and begin to drum her fingers on her thigh—I know that I am blabbering, so I try another angle—invisible—I promised myself to stay invisible, I can’t blow out one month’s worth of success.
Wild rolls her eyes, oh please, I just want to see if he is alright—give him the porridge and leave.
Why is my mind running all over the place?
As I sit in the taxi on my way to Taylor’s house my fingers—twitch to my phone in my pocket. I should send a reply like—‘I’m on my way’
I scoff at my own absurdity—it’s not as if I am on a mission for Pete’s sakes.
I sit rigidly in the car seat as the taxi nears my destination. Besides the fact that I am ditching school and father would send me to a madhouse immediately if he ever finds out (and I would like to keep it in my best interests that he never does and remains in the clueless parent’s stereotype) I am suddenly stiff because this is just wrong on so many levels. And this neighborhood is a far cry from where I live.
Well it’s not Hollywood. Classy people make me nervous—well partly because the first rich person I ever encountered turned out to be a madman so who can blame me.
So when other people cling to rich friends I run a mile. Father once told me plainly that my mind works backwards. Well since he was the one who recognized it I suppose then that I got it from him. Genetic inheritances have to start from somewhere—it’s a scientific law. And I have the upper most respect for empirical studies.
Minutes later I am standing at the bus stop. I just stand there with a lunch bag clung under my arm and a tote bag on the other. I push my glasses over the bridge of my nose. It’s not like I am not so sure of where I am going.
‘Hey!” someone drawls at my right hand side, ‘what’s your name and where are you going?’
I press my lips together as I march across the road away from whoever way trying to strike a conversation with me. The directions are clear and simple because soon I find Taylor’s house.
It’s just as I expected. Large walls surrounding it, electric fence, electronic gate. I imagine there must be a dog too. Vicious dogs are intrinsic to the rich residence character. The thought of large scary dogs makes me shudder
I hate dogs—no- to put it more honestly, I am terrified of dogs. The automatic response to something you fear is hate—at least that’s my proven theory.
I am standing in front of the gate battling with my thoughts. Get out of here—what the hell are you doing here? Are you insane? Since when do you come to men’s houses?
Since now—I answer myself.
I am probably going against every protocol I’ve set for myself—what is wrong with me? Maybe I really was bewitched—with a love portion—or maybe not that.
The line in Pride and Prejudice movie comes to my mind
‘You have bewitched me with your love and I love—love—I love you’
I smile at the thought. Wait what? — love? No that’s way too farfetched for me, my life is way too screwed up to even consider the existence of love. If not then what is this? Charity, I reason with myself, nodding in agreement—my part-time teacher is not feeling well—and he’s a dear friend of my Church’s youth group. I just can’t turn a blind eye when I can help humanity.
Wild throws her hands in the air—this is just so stupid!
The gate opens and I freeze. It all happens so fast that I barely have time to erase the lunatic grin I have on my face at my private joke. My eyes clash with Taylor’s as he steps outside with a refuse bag in his hand.
Oh shoot me now—crap—double crap. Well who cares?
Chagrin is not the best word for what I’m feeling right now. How do you explain showing up in front of someone’s gate with a huge lunch bag during school hours and only to meet the person at home in sweat pants, barefooted and taking his dear trash out. Probably minding his own business and bam—I am on his front door.
I feel heat going to my face. Dear God, this is the best time for the world to end. Anything is welcome at this point—an earthquake, a tornado, a mad cow. Anything to divert Taylor’s eyes from my face.
‘Uh- good morning!’ I stammer concentrating on his eyebrows instead, I can’t survive the ambush of dark brown eyes right now, ‘you look better than I imagined.’
His lips part—surprise? Amusement?—say something damn it! You are the one who gave me the stupid address in the first place, so now here I am.
‘I recover pretty quickly—I have a strong,’ pause, small smile, ‘stamina.’
The word stamina sends heat all over my face—my mind is fragile at this point, I cannot take responsibility for whatever pops into my imagination
‘You should have said so—you sounded like you were in the ICU last night.’
‘Last night.’ His lips twitch, maybe a private joke, and his eyes do a painful slow travel all over my face and that leaves me surprisingly breathless as an impermissible picture pops into my imagination.
‘I was grateful when you called.’ He finishes as if he didn’t just throw my mind’s administrative department into the dust bin.
‘Don’t be—it was all trial and error.’ I say as nonchalantly as I can with a fading tight smile.
His eyes land on my lunch bag, ‘what’s in there?’
I hug my lunch bag closer, ‘lunch!’ I say quickly.
He fully steps outside, brush past me and goes to dump the refuse bag in the bin outside the gate. I just stand there still trying to collect my senses back into place
‘After you!’ I flinch at his quiet voice, I didn’t hear him come back behind me. And this is worse, I can actually feel his body heat radiating to my back—I search an old rusty memory of my high school science lessons for answers.
I hover in front of the gate—wild mind grimaces at me exasperatedly. I lift my right leg first to step into the yard as if I am about to wade into an overflowing river. I am terrified of drowning—there are worse ways to die. I know that with Taylor I am sinking deep at merciless speed and that cannot be a good thing but I can’t seem to help myself out of doing stupid things such as this.
I carefully set my foot inside as if I am afraid of stepping into a landmine, followed by the other one and hooray I am in—why am I celebrating?
I hear the gate closing behind me and I swallow a lump that is stuck in my throat as my eyes scan around.
Just as I expected, pavement, a small narrow flowerbed. Garage, bull dog—deck chairs on the verandah—wait a minute; my eyes rear back at full speed back to the open garage—bull dog? As if the animal senses my internal shriek it locks its eyes on me and snarls exposing sharp teeth.
‘Gah!’ I yelp and run for the gate only to bump into a wall. I fall back and Taylor catches me in time and crushes me back against him.
My senses immediately thaws as I subconsciously inhale him. It wasn’t planned, my face is on his chest after all and the soft cotton of his shirt and he smells—amazing. Like fresh laundry with a spicy tang mixed with body heat.
‘Don’t worry Hunter won’t hurt you if you don’t act suspicious,’ his voice is all but musical as he chuckles. The dog barks and that snaps me out of my impermissible reverie, I turn around to stare at it—Taylor lets me go and draws away from me.
‘I’m always suspicious to dogs.’ I croak.
‘He’s tied down.’
That relieves me a little and I audibly breathe out. Taylor is laughing quietly as he leads me to the front door.
Inside is warm, opulent and smells incredible. The TV’s on and it’s a news channel—there are three paintings on the walls. The curtains of the sliding doors are drawn open giving a view of the narrow flower bed and the only tree in the yard which I hadn’t noticed before since Hunter freaked me out.
He asks me to sit and I tentatively sink into the nearest couch, close to the door because I may decide to run for it. There is a certain tension in the air vibrating between us and I may need to run before my wild mind takes over the whole scene and I do something stupid. Why am I even here? Obviously my right sense have long lost the battle.
‘Your house is nice.’ I comment, my wild mind rolls her eyes- obviously, ‘you live here alone?’
He glances around the living room, ‘no I live with my cousin sister—she’s currently in Ghana,’ he explains.
‘Oh,’ is all I can say—
‘That must be mine,’ He eyes the lunch bag
I push my glasses over the bridge of my nose, ‘oh-it’s uh—‘I stammer as I stretch the bag to him and he strides across the room to take it, ‘it mabele—the one you eat with milk—its good after food poisoning.’
He smiles, eyes dancing, ‘oh wow—perfect—my cousin knows how to make this and I’ve been miserable over craving for it since she left.’
I am way too relieved that he likes it. Or maybe I like it way too much that his whole face lights up with that smile—I’ll bring him porridge every time I can.
‘Oh that must have been very traumatizing for you.’ I smile back.
His smile falters and he steadies his gaze at me in a way that makes my smile to fall and I blink a couple of times. He seems like he is about to say something then decides against it.
‘You ditched school didn’t you?’
‘oh no.’ I place a hand over my heart because I am currently wondering what the heck is going through his mind and why this large parlor suddenly feel so small and why I feel very vulnerable right now, ‘I didn’t exactly.’ My mind is running all over the place, ‘the first lesson is business ethics anyway.’
‘And your teacher tolerate absence on the register?’
I shrug, ‘I have good reasons—I am doing an ethical deed!’
He raises his eyebrow, ‘accepted standards of social behavior,’ he says it slowly like he is warning me, ‘this has to be acceptable right?’
Why do I feel like I know what he is talking about? I should take the bait and say it right out but I chicken out like the chicken that I am
‘So who food poisoned you?’
He tilts his head to one side and something like a smile is on his face, ‘I drank stale milk.’
I grimace, ‘oh my god—it’s good that you have an incredible stamina.’
He stares at me intensely and my mind runs into full gear trying to figure out what I said to make him look at me like that. And why can’t I look away from his gaze—maybe he really is a vampire—because at this point as seconds tick by and my legs start to twitch—I want to go over to him and be close enough
He breaks the eye contact and abruptly turns to the kitchen
‘I better do justice to this.’
As he disappears into the kitchen I relax into the couch and breathe out slowly. What is wrong with me? I place a shaky hand over my thudding heart and the click of a closing microwave makes me flinch. Why is it still a shock to me that I have no control over what I do when around him? I need to get out of here
‘Can I get you anything? I am not sharing my porridge.’ He is suddenly at the kitchen entrance
I manage a shaky laugh, ‘no I’m fine—I have to hurry back to school’
No—I have to run out of here before I lose my sanity
‘Okay sure.’
I stand up, fixing my tote bag on my shoulder.
‘Thank you for coming to see me.’ He says with a knowing smile.
‘Don’t mention it.’ I say quickly and I jump for the sliding doors. I don’t remember how I should open it because the thing won’t even budge as I try to pull it.
Taylor’s hand appears and easily slides the door open. I turn to thank him and I freeze. I meet dark intense eyes. My rigid body goes limp as I give up trying to listen to my better senses—wild gazes up with her mouth hanging open as if she is watching an alien spaceship as it is landing on the surface of the earth.
I inch closer to him as long fingers slowly come to my face. They feel like electric currents as they trace the contours of my facial features. My cheek bone, jawline and slowly shapes and traces my lower lip and tags at it. Why do that quicken my heart rate? His eyes fall to my lips and his breath hitches. I inch even closer to him and our faces are inches apart— his hand presses on my back and he draws me against him as my own hand reaches to touch his face.
I think he is anticipating my touch as his eyes begin to close a little and his head is dips towards mine. His mouth hovers over mine and I am about to touch his face when in a sudden movement his hand captures mine, opens his eyes wide and put my hand back to my side as he lets me go and draws away from me.
I am more surprised by my action than he is at this moment. He shakes his head at me
‘Heather—we can’t--’ his voice is strained
I’m not sure what my expression is like but I feel washed in rejection—which is completely unreasonable but it’s stabbing me in my chest that he drew away from me.
‘go back to school Heather!” he stares at me, his expression like he just entered into a room and shut the door in my face
‘I’m sorry!’ I manage to whisper before I dash out of the house and then out of the gate. I don’t stop running until I reach the bus stop. There I stop and I steady myself against a road sign pole. I breathe in slowly then I breathe out. What was I thinking? I wasn’t going to stop—I wasn’t going to object—I was going to do anything he asked. Fortunately Taylor had the right senses to rescue the situation—but that only leaves me with a serious dark feeling within me.