BIZARRE DREAMS: a collection of short stories

Witching Hour

"Ye tho I walk through the valley of the shadow of...." I paused, my breathing heavy and my fingers locked together. I was beginning to find it increasingly difficult to finish this simple prayer.

I kept my eyes shut, afraid to open it without finishing my prayers. Mother had once said that if I opened my eyes without finishing the prayers I would be inviting the devil. I believed her. I still did.

"In the name of the father, and the son and..." I tried to start my prayers all over again and still couldn't get past the first lines.

My breathing increased and I felt the sharp pain of my heart hammering against my chest.
I freed my fingers and slowly opened my eyes. The wooden floor creaked as I stood up from it. My knees hurt slightly and my head ached, as it did every night.

I looked around the tiny room, it was dark save for the tiny rays of moonlight hitting the metal bowl on the floor.

The room was also quiet except for the consistent dripping of water on the wooden floor and its splashing on the bowl.

I moved up towards the bowl and bent to adjust the position, the ceiling had been leaking after the rain yesterday.

The small window creaked as a draft of air rushed past it. I walked a few steps to the window and pushed it open.

The window was not so big; in fact, it was exactly the size of my head. I closed my eyes and sniffed the cold air; it would rain again, and soon. I did every night, placing my head by the window and looking out. That was the best I could do.

I stood back from the window and tried to remember why I was still awake at midnight.
Oh yes, the voices in my head. The voices that were always talking to me. No, it wasn't my thoughts, I can easily tell my thoughts apart. The voices were always whispering quietly, telling me what to do.

At midnight, these voices got louder, and sometimes more aggressive.

They'd even taken over my body once, when I had been dreadfully ill. I heard mother say I had been sleep-walking and that maybe it was the medication.

But then, there had been other instances. One time, when I had been going home from school, I'd decided to take a dark corner street. The street had been empty as I knew it would, but I took it anyways.

It was shorter I liked the nice smell of jollof rice and chicken I was always perceived from the fast food restaurant just a block away, the one mother never took me to.
I was walking quietly, aware of the honking and rushing of cars fading behind me and then the voices came up again.

"What will you do?" They asked.

I ignored the voice. I always did.

"What will you do?" It raged on and I got distracted and stepped on a puddle of brown water, soaking my black sandals. I groaned and yelled, "what!"

The voices calmed down.

"The man coming behind you, he wants to harm you, what will you do?"

I felt my heart skip a beat and then I clutched my school bag, the leather creaking subtly.

I didn't turn back yet, I just listened. I suddenly became aware of the thudding of boots behind me. That was when I turned.

"Hey, little girl," The man called out.

I groaned and then grimaced at the sight of him. He wore a faded, grease stained brown shirt and an equally faded jean shorts. I could smell him from where I stood, and he was still a good distance away.

He kept walking towards me, exposing his rows of yellow teeth in an awkward grin and looking around him. The street was dark, so he had no worries.