Jonathan and Other Weird Stories

Jonathan (four)

Funmi was breathing hard. Her fan seemed to have stopped working. The room was hot, and she could feel her lungs struggling inside her. More memories came back. She had screamed, after cutting Titi. Titi screamed too. The screams pierced her head again. It stung her, like a brief migraine. They had screamed too loudly. Her mother rushed to her room, held her mouth and screamed in shock. Titi had not been moving anymore. Her mother had tried to take the knife from Funmi.

Jonathan jumped on the bed. He leaned forward. 'And what did you do to your mother?'

Images flashed across Funmi's eyes. A silver blade was swung. Her mother had raised her hands in fright. Funmi gasped.

Jonathan touched her shoulder. 'What happened?'

Funmi's eyes were glazed. Her gaze stayed on her mother. When she spoke, it was as though she was in a trace. 'I stabbed her stomach. That isn't tomato. It's blood.'

Jonathan smiled, as though proud of her. He caressed her shoulder. 'You killed her too,' he whispered in her ears.

'I don't understand,' said Funmi. The dagger slipped from her grip and dropped on the bed. 'If they're dead, why are they still there. Everything that happened yesterday, with Pastor Elijah and... everything. How did that happen, if they are dead?'

Jonathan picked the knife up. 'Did it really happen? Did it actually happen, or did you just imagine it and narrate the story to me?'

'I don't know,' Funmi said. 'I don't understand,' she added between whimpers.

'It's okay, it's fine. I'm here to help you. It's like I told you before, the brain is fully capable of creating anything and creating everything—including them, fragments of your past.'

'They are not real,' Funmi breathed. Just as she did, her frozen family was snuffed out. They disappeared, like a candle flame against a mighty wind. 'Where did they go?'

'It doesn't matter,' said Jonathan. He put the dagger back in her hand and tightened her fingers around it. 'You killed them. You are a killer—a terrible, terrible person. You deserve to die. Drive the knife into your body and end everything.'

'Nooo,' Funmi cried. 'Please, stop, I don't want to die.'

Jonathan held her hand, softly. 'Yes, you do. You have to. You don't deserve to keep living. Die, Funmi, just die. End everything.'

'No!' she screamed.

Jonathan scowled, he seemed irritated. 'What's the purpose of your living? Can't you see that you are nothing!'

That word struck her. See. What could she see? She looked around her room. Her mouth was agape for she breathed through it. She looked at her door, her curtain ever dancing, her fan ever spinning, everything was normal in the room—constant, just as it was years ago.

'If my mom and sister died ten years ago, then how am I still here, in this room?' she asked.

Jonathan's lips parted. His eyes widened. She saw a look on him she had never seen before. Fear. 'Don't think about that, just kill yourself,' he said.

'No,' Funmi told him. 'I shouldn't be here, in this same room, after all these years. I should be somewhere else. This can't be real. That fan, that window—' She held the knife up and chuckled dryly— 'This knife. None of it is real. Including you.'

Jonathan glared at her. 'Just stop! Stop thinking about all these!'

'Why not? You know. You know that once reality dawns on me, all these façades will disappear. Like my mother and sister did.'

Jonathan looked around, frightful. His lips apart. His grip on her fingers tightened. He looked up at the fan and it stopped spinning. He turned to the curtain and it stopped dancing. 'No,' he breathed. 'Not again.'

Funmi knew what she must do. She closed her eyes, so tight, the lashes folded inside. She thought of nothing. Not of her family and the agony it brought her heart, not of Jonathan, and not of all the blood she had spilled. She thought of reality.

'Open your eyes!' Jonathan yelled the words. She blocked him out of her mind. He kept yelling the words over, and over, and over again, until his voice began to wane and silence; until the only sound she heard was her steady breath and her beating heart.

'Funmi, open your eyes!'

It was a different voice this time. It was high pitched, a woman's voice. It was gentle and calming.

Someone touched her face, cupping her cheek. 'Open your eyes,' the woman said again.

Funmi opened her eyes. There was a bright light; it was almost blinding. She flinched and shut her eyes. The hand on her face caressed her cheek. She opened her eyes again. The light was gentler this time. She saw a woman staring down at her, smiling. The woman was old and wrinkled all over her face. Funmi was strapped to a narrow bed. It was soft, the bed. It felt like cotton on her back. Her eyes searched around. She was in a different room, with walls painted white.

'Who are you?' Funmi asked the woman, weakly.

'I'm your nurse,' she replied, still smiling.

'My sister and mom?' Funmi dared to ask.

The nurse looked at her, her smile fell. Saliva went down her throat. 'You don't remember? They died, ten years ago.'

'I killed them,' Funmi said.

The nurse's lips parted. She nodded. 'You mustn't blame yourself. It was a long time ago. You were sick, but you are getting better.'

'But I killed them,' Funmi cried. 'I killed them. I killed them.' Soon, tears streamed down her eyes and she was gasping for air. She tried to move her arms and kick her legs, but they were stuck fast to the bed. She added more strength, pulling the straps, trying her hardest to break free.

The nurse rushed to a table and came back with an injection.

'What is that?' Funmi asked, panicky.

'I'm going to give you another sedative,' the nurse said, preparing the needle. 'It will help you sleep.'

Another sedative?

'No! Please,' Funmi cried. She had no idea what would happen to her if she lost consciousness. 'You can't give me that. I don't want to sleep. Please, I have to stay awake. Don't stick that needle in me!'

'Relax, it will help you,' said the nurse, caressing her arm. She pierced the needle into Funmi's skin and injected the sedative into Funmi.

It worked like magic. The nurse stood up, retreating, and her image soon became blurry. The table became blurry as well. Funmi's eyelid grew heavy, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. The white walls grew faded, like water colours. And as everything blurred, only one thing remained clear—only one person. Jonathan.

He came and stood by her bedside, smiling wolfishly. He glowed like the moon, and his eyes held an almost-loving, but more haunting look. Troubling.

'No,' Funmi breathed. Her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.

'Sleep well,' Jonathan said. 'Now, let's try again.'