Jonathan and Other Weird Stories

Jonathan, See-quelling (one)

A voice called to her, a woman's voice. The words drifted into Funmi's ears like wisps of eerie smoke lurking in the air around her, and yet it had a tinge of kindness to it. The words were unclear, and Funmi had trouble making them out, but it sounded like the woman was saying, Open your eyes.

Funmi's eyes opened slowly but saw nothing. Only darkness prevailed, like she was trapped in a cave and not a single ray of light struck her eyes. Cold air rushed in and out of her mouth, ridding her lips of every moisture, until they grew thin and flaky, like she was starved. But Funmi did not feel hungry or thirsty. All she knew was cold, darkness and old memories—memories from many years ago, those that had been lost to her, that she hadn't thought about since she was five. The memories danced in her head and made Funmi feel warm inside. She drew in a deep breath, welcoming the smell of dried wood and fried meat—but this smell was rancid, like the meat had been burnt for too long, and left out to rot in the sun.

The burnt smell brought back an old memory about her sister, from all those years ago: Funmi had been hungry but wouldn't go to the kitchen to cook, because she was afraid of the fire and she always stayed away from flames. She needed her maid to prepare her a meal, but Funmi did not find the girl. Funmi could not wait for the maid to turn up; hunger pangs clawed at her stomach, so she turned to her older sister, Titi, to prepare the meal for her. Titi listened, but while the meal cooked, the fire lost control and burnt the house down with its fiery flames. Their mother had carried her children and raced out of the house before the flames engulfed them. When the fire finally died, all their properties had been destroyed, and their maid fled and was never seen again. Funmi's mother claimed it was the maid's fault the house burnt, which is why the maid disappeared, but deep down in Funmi's heart she knew whose fault it truly was. Her mother said the maid must have gone back to the village to be with her family—after all, her father was a pastor; he would surely welcome her.

The memory weighed on Funmi, even there in the darkness. It was one she had forced herself to forget all these years—why was she remembering it now?

The darkness grew thicker, and it started to feel like Funmi was trapped in a box. She held herself, crossing her arms over her bosom; her fingers trailed a dotted coat of goose bumps on her forearm. Her touch was gentle, and the goose bumps felt sensitive amidst the little bits of hair on her skin, causing her weird pleasure. It was the nicest feeling she had known since forever, the most comforting. Her fingers traced a path up her arms, to her shoulders, and to her collar bones. They went down the parting of her feeble breasts, and beneath them, and around them, one finger encircling each breast, and again, and she closed her eyes and let her mind relax with the soothing sensation of her own touch. Her fingers found their way to her nipples, touching gently like a baby's kiss, and Funmi continued, finding joy, until she suddenly stopped.

That was when it dawned on her that she was naked.

Her eyes shot open. Her hands rushed to her body, touching her torso in heightened frenzy, as though to confirm, like she couldn't feel air caressing her naked skin. Her hands went down to her thighs, to the wetness in between, and down her skinny legs.

She truly was naked.

Footsteps approached her from a distance; feet pressing against wooden floor. Funmi's head whipped to the direction of the steps but there was no image in the darkness. It seemed like she was blind, and yet she knew something was coming. The floor creaked with every step as the thing drew closer to her and she sensed the presence in the shadows. She was not alone.

"W-Who's there?" Funmi called.

A sudden surge of guilt and disgust filled her chest. Her fingers curled and she tried to cover her body in shame. Her dried lips quivered, and her legs were like noodles beneath her weight—it was a crippling fear that someone might have been watching when she touched herself. If she couldn't see the person, could the person see her? The steps grew more audible, closer, quickening Funmi's heartbeat. She strained her eyes, trying to look deeper into the enveloping darkness, but there was nothing. Funmi swallowed, with no idea what was there—what was coming. Should she run? She moved her feet and the wooden floor squeaked when her weight shifted.