Jonathan and Other Weird Stories

Jonathan (three)

'Did you take your sleeping pills?' her mother asked.

Titi released her sister. Funmi shook her head.

'Where are they? The doctor said you must take them before you sleep. Didn't you hear?' her mother said, her hands akimbo.

'I don't want them. I hate the sleeping pills,' Funmi grumbled.

'Funmilayo!' Her mother's voice thundered. 'I'm tired of your nonsense. Take your pills before I descend on you this night.'

'B—but—'

'Take the pills,' Jonathan spoke.

Funmi glanced at him. He sat there, on her bed, glaring at her family. Funmi had not known he was capable of glaring.

'Okay,' Funmi conceded. 'I'll take them.'

'Now!' Her mother said. 'I want to see you swallow it.'

'Don't swallow it,' Jonathan said. Funmi turned to him again, afraid and perplexed. Her fingers trembled. Jonathan continued, his jaw clenched, 'They want me gone. If you swallow it, I'll be gone. I don't want to go. I want to be your friend and I never want to leave you. So, don't swallow it. Hide it somewhere in your mouth, so you can spit it out later.'

Funmi nodded slowly, like her neck was broken. She pulled the pills from her bag, popped two, and threw them into her mouth. With a sachet of water, she pretended to gulp the pills down. When her mother was satisfied, she left. Titi's finger rested on the light switch. 'Please try to sleep,' she said and turned the light off. She went out the room, shutting the door behind her.

Funmi spat the pills into her hand and threw them under her bed for rats. She laid on her bed again, supine. Jonathan laid beside her, also supine.

Images flashed in her mind and each image struck her heart, like lightning. Red images. Blood red. Warm, like her sister's kiss. Squirting and dripping and staining. A silver blade swinging, reflecting moonlight. She saw the shock on her sister's face. The look in her eyes. Her widened eyes. Frightened. Titi's screams pierced her head, it was loud and raging, like thunder.

Funmi was hyperventilating. Her chest kept rising and falling, like balloon pumping air. She had hurt her sister all those years ago. She had not intended to do it. But he had made her. Her friend. Her old friend. The friend she had—the friend she had had to stop seeing. The friend from ten years ago. His name. He had said his name was...

'Jonathan,' Funmi cried. She turned to the boy lying beside her. 'You're not a different Jonathan. You're the same. The same friend who made me—'

'Yes,' said Jonathan, with glazed eyes. 'They are bad people. Your sister and your mother. They are both bad people. They don't want you to have a friend. They tried to push me away before, but I've come back to help you. Because you need me.'

'No,' Funmi said. 'I don't need you.'

'Yes, you need me. Your life is miserable. Completely miserable. Your mother hates you; she can barely look at you. I'm sure she thinks you're just wasting oxygen. You're nothing to her. I'm sure she wishes you would just die. And your sister, she's the worst. She thinks she's better than you, because she has breasts like balloons, that all the boys want—and no one wants you. And now that you have me, a friend, they are trying to get rid of me. You have to kill them, to be free.'

'No!' Funmi snapped. Her face was wet with tears. Catarrh crawled out her nose. She sat up. 'I don't want to do that. I'd rather kill myself,' she said with gritted teeth. She drew back snot, thinning her scrawny neck.

Jonathan sat up as well. He smirked. He pulled a dagger out of nowhere and passed it to her. 'Then do it. Kill yourself.'

'No,' said Funmi. Her voice was weak. Shaky. Unsure. Her heart was beating too hard. It ached her. 'I don't want to die.'