The Cursed and the Wicked

The Reaper and the Outcast pt. 1

Many people have tried to escape the fate that all of us humans share countless of times, death. Whether it was because of the fear of the unknown or they just believed nothing happens when you die and you just cease to exist, nobody wants that time to come. Many would do anything to avoid it as much as possible, but is that possible? Can one truly escape death?

There was a loud buzzing sound of an alarm clock continuously blaring off. Bahati Okeke slowly opened her dark brown eyes to only squint as the sun's bright rays of light beamed through her curtains. Her thick, full lips emitted a low, tired groan as she had forced herself to sit up in her bed, yawning and then smacking her lips as she realized her mouth was dry. Bahati scratched her thick, kinky, curly afro underneath a red bonnet, before taking it off and stretching out her arms above her head and then stretching out her legs across the bed. She slammed her ebony colored fist on the alarm clock that was still blaring, instantly shutting it off. Now, there was nothing, but peaceful silence. She looked over to the left side of her bed to see the ghostly figure of a grown Korean woman, standing there, watching her. Bahati sighed and decided to ignore the ghost as it was too early to be dealing with them. The ghost women pouted her lips as Bahati slowly got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom down the hall in her apartment. She didn't like being ignored, she so poofed away somewhere else.

Before Bahati was able to use the bathroom, she noticed another ghostly figure. This time that of a teenage Korean boy.

"What's with all of these ghosts in my apartment all of a sudden?" She thought as she glared at the boy. "You have three seconds to leave or else I will pound you into oblivion". She warned him, making him scared and jump away, before poofing away.

Bahati finally relieved herself, before washing her hands and making her way back to her bedroom, where she changed into some "active" clothing: a blue tank top with a built-in-bra, black leggings, blue running shoes and a neon colored hoodie. She grabbed her phone and earbuds, before making her way outside and started jogging around her neighborhood.

Everywhere she jogged, she saw ghosts and spirits everywhere. If Bahati didnt have the ability to see spirits, she wouldn't have even noticed that there were ghosts everywhere. She couldn't figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She could only chuckle at the thought.

Her neighborhood was relatively normal, despite there being ghosts everywhere. People were walking around or driving around their cars, oblivious to the ghosts hanging around them. Across the street from her apartment complex was another complex. Down the street from her was a little complex with clothing stores and restaurants and grocery stores. It was a nice, calm, peaceful neighborhood as far she knew. Her apartment was nothing special or extravagant. Just a one bedroom apartment with a kitchen, "living" room, bathroom and laundry room.

Bahati's phone started going off as she received a flood of emails from all of her clients for the day that she may or may not be able to meet with. She checked her phone and read all of the emails to see if all of those clients were in an area that was reachable and they all were. She placed her phone back inside the pocket of her hoodie and continued her jogging, until she reached a total of 6 miles there and back home to her apartment.

She fixed herself a nice breakfast: vegetable omelette, tofu with seasoned soy sauce, white rice cooked with red and black beans, radish kimchi and coleslaw, before brushing her teeth, taking a shower and changing into her "work" clothes: a white blouse, black slacks and blazer, and black heels. She made sure to put on her rings made of iron on her ring fingers on both hands, a necklace and a pair of earrings, before applying natural looking make up to her lips, eyelids and eyebrows. She combed out her afro with a pick. In the draw by her bed, she grabbed a couple of knives also made of iron and hid each one in both of her shoes. She grabbed her satchel that had her phone, wallet, apartment keys and school supplies inside and locked up her apartment as she left. She caught the bus just in time and looked at her phone again to check the address of her first client. It was of an elderly black woman, who lived not so far from her apartment, in a two story house. Checking out the pictures, it was a lovely home with a nice sized yard and a fence. The woman named Norma Jean told Bahati that her husband Charles Henry had passed away not too long ago. She fears that he still resides in their house causing child like havoc.