CTRL

I

𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘖𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 2018

Onika sat cross-legged on her bed, the faint hum of the city outside her window mingling with the soft strains of jazz music wafting through the air. The walls of her small apartment were plastered with posters of famous paranormal investigations, images of spectral figures captured in grainy photographs, and notes pinned haphazardly about her research. Each piece represented her obsession with the supernatural, a fascination that ran deeper than mere curiosity; it was a way to escape the haunting memories of her past.

Growing up in New Orleans, a city steeped in mystique and magic, had shaped Onika in ways she was only beginning to understand. The culture was rich with tales of voodoo, ghost sightings, and whispered legends. From an early age, her father, Robert, had encouraged her to embrace the unknown, taking her on late-night strolls through the French Quarter where they would listen to the stories of local lore. It was during these walks that Onika felt the most alive, her imagination igniting with the possibilities that lay beyond the veil of reality.

Yet, beneath the surface of her vibrant life lay a heavy shadow: her mother, Carol, who had supposedly been killed when Onika was just a child. The tale of her mother's death was shrouded in mystery—rumors of dark dealings and revenge had seeped into the narrative, making it difficult for Onika to piece together the truth. Her father had always been tight-lipped about the circumstances, offering only fragments of information that only fueled her curiosity.

"Do you think I'll ever know what really happened to her?" Onika had once asked her father, her young voice laced with a mixture of hope and dread.

"Some stories are best left in the past," he had replied, a shadow flickering across his face.

Now, as she prepared for another day of classes, those unresolved feelings nagged at her. Onika loved her major—parapsychology—and the thrill of exploring the unknown kept her motivated. But the darkness surrounding her family made it difficult for her to focus completely.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. "Onika! You ready or what?" It was Lauren, her best friend since childhood and her rock through the emotional storms of life.

"Yeah, just a second!" Onika called back, quickly shoving her journal under her bed. She didn't want to explain her tangled feelings to Lauren, not when her friend had her own issues to deal with.

When she opened the door, Lauren was leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a playful smirk on her face. "You know, I could hear you daydreaming from down the hall. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing! Just trying to get my life together," Onika replied, brushing past her friend. "Let's go. I can't be late to Professor Devereaux's class again."

As they made their way to campus, Onika felt the familiar warmth of camaraderie enveloping her. Lauren was her opposite in many ways: extroverted, bubbly, and fiercely loyal. While Onika often found herself lost in her thoughts, Lauren had a gift for drawing her out, a skill honed by years of friendship.

"Okay, so tell me about Nasir," Lauren prompted, a knowing glint in her eyes.

Onika sighed, her heart fluttering at the mention of her boyfriend. "He's... complicated. Sometimes he's sweet, and other times it feels like he's a completely different person."

"Sounds like a classic case of emotional rollercoaster. What's he hiding?" Lauren leaned in, curiosity sparking.

"I don't know," Onika admitted, biting her lip. "He has this way of shutting down whenever I ask about his past. I can feel there's something he's not telling me."