Saved by my nightmare (A Nigerian Story)

CHAPTER 6

بسم الله الرحمن الرحي

************
Lagos, Nigeria.
2012.

It would not be...ever.

That was the first thought that Maliya had when she was shaken out of her reverie.

She had temporarily been in a world where she had only the best of her memories surrounding her, and just like every other dream of hers, a nightmare followed.

The only difference on that particular day was that her nightmare was personified.

It didn't materialise into a flaming skull with a sadistic laugh like the one on the ghost rider's neck.

Oh no...that situation would have been akin to her swinging a basket of fruits in the meadow when compared to this.

The source of the chill that ran down her spine was none other than her chemistry teacher.

And while other tyrants would come armed with chains, whips, canons and AK 47s, this particular one came with an ammunition tank full of toothy smiles.

The pearly whites had a set of canines longer than a Siberian tigers', she could only be lost in the horrific thoughts of said teeth sinking into the middle of her head, cracking her cranium as they sucked her brain's fluids till she resembled the stock fish they ate for dinner last night.

She could visualize her soulless eyes staring at the vampiric creature as it licked it mouth clean, satisfied by its refreshing meal of neurons and brain matter.

She hit her head with the back of her palm when she realised two things.

The first being that she had just relived the scene of the horrific vampire movie she had being trying to forget for the past month.

The second being that there was a very amused, although confused man watching her intently with millions of specks dancing in his dark orbs.

Clearing her throat, Maliya wiped her face hoping to God that there wasn't any spittle running down the sides of her cracked lips.

A very amused Zayn watched the girl in front of him, holding in his laugh.

I must set a good example, I must set a good example.., I m-must s-sse-tt a gooood examp..

But the voice in his head didn't get to perfect its newly formed mantra when he burst out laughing.

Maliya ducked her head, feeling really embarassed, but unlike the other times her classmates weren't focusing on her.

It seemed the sixty-something pairs of eyes had found a new source of entertainment in Mr Zayn.

His rich deep laughter ricocheted throughout the four yellow coloured walls of the silent class.

It turns out the animated character on Nickelodeon hadn't been ludicrous when he said laughter was infectious.

Because a second later, a wheezing laughter surfaced from somewhere in the first row of the class, and then somewhere in the same line another followed, and row by row the virus had spread round the whole class, and boisterous laughters filled the air.

Maliya joined a few minutes later not because she had been infected by the laughter, but because of the sight of a young man, dressed in a black leather jacket draped over a white shir, with a light-sun-tanned complexion.

Because of a man whose looks could rival the picture of the model on the magazine that sat atop her table.

A man who drove the latest Mercedes car brand.