THE CRYSTAL HOUSE

¶Suspicions¶

Femi

The room was eerily silent. Black curtains the colour of midnight draped across all the windows encasing the room in doom and gloom. He sat on a high chair made of iron, surrounded by huge dogs (Rottweilers, maybe?). He held a staff which pointed towards me, I can't remember if I still lay down at that point...

Femi paused his writing in the dream journal to take a huge gulp of coffee, as he struggled to stay awake. He couldn't sleep, not until this page was filled with the details he remembered. He wouldn't sleep, not until this was resolved and he stopped seeing that face.

He stared blankly at the other housemates gathered in the lounge, oblivious to their whisperings. He wasn't interested in the outcome of the games nor the drowning lady. His game had been good, and he got high points which solidified his spot among the top three housemates. In Lola's case, he felt relieved that she was gone, her absolute lack of manners and human decency had severely put him off since the first day.

Femi glanced at the half-filled page of his journal, he needed was to find some way to explain what he was experiencing to someone. But he had doubts about that idea, because some of the housemates had been behaving strangely towards him, avoiding or ignoring him.

He sighed, he missed Granny Omolola terribly. If she were here, she wouldn't hesitate to make him jollof rice and rub his head affectionately. She would take him to her pastor and indulge in prayers and fasting till these nightmares left. Being outside his home country felt suffocating most times, but what else could he do? His grandmother and brother considered this scholarship the best thing to happen to them. It was their chance to finally leave their country and seek greener pastures, they were all depending on him and here he was, playing a mysterious game in America to last for nearly a month.

He sat up on his bed and looked at the other housemates through his open door. They sat huddled together, still surprised at the turn of events but he knew Lola's accident wasn't so accidental. Someone caused it, and now they must be feeling like shit. Just how he felt last night. He ate a spicy chip and picked up his pen.

I remember something else. This man told me that he convinced and threatened, in his words, 'the talkative boy' to make him leave. So it wasn't my fault, kind of. He also said someone stopped him from getting through to the other housemates.

Femi knew someone knew about his extraordinary situation, and he could bet it was Mr. Han. The man had begun to creep him out, staring at him strangely during his Q&A sessions and asking him stranger questions.

"Hey, dude. What you writing there?" Florian asked, pointing at the green notebook with half filled pages. Femi subtly tucked away the notebook in his bag and faced Florian. When had he walked in?

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some random thoughts." He shrugged, trying to play it off as unimportant.

"Oh, are you a writer then?"

Femi considered the question. The only words he wrote at a stretch were his dreams, vivid and detailed from start to finish (in the occasion he remembered everything). But he also indulged in poems and one-shots.

He nodded. "Yeah, you could say so. Not a professional though."

"Alright, that seems nice. I haven't seen you much all day, are you okay?"

Femi was thankful for the change in topic, but he was also surprised. The thoughtfulness in Florian's words always amazed him, he couldn't count up to ten people who showed him that much attention in his school and he was already in his second year.

"Yeah man, I'm fine. There's just something I need to resolve with Mr. Han. By the way, what's up with the long faces outside?" Femi asked. It wouldn't hurt to show some concern over the incident.