I layed idly on my bed, I could hear the sound of the clock from the hall. it rang and echoed through the hall, it repeated in my head... tick tock tick tock...
The windows were open but the curtains were shut, I could see how the curtains would rise and fall because of the passing of the breeze, and on the wall, I could see the play of moonlight. I could smell detergent from the newly washed sheets, the smell made my nose cringe but still it made me feel safe that the sheets were at least washed.
The room wasn't lit, there were no lamps, but there were light bulbs and they were switched off, the idea of switching it on crossed my mind but I wouldn't want to draw unnecessary attention from anyone even though I had the feeling that everyone was asleep.
The thought of being awake alone in the middle of the night didn't bother me much, I had gotten used to it by now.
I remembered lonely nights where I would lay on my bed, and then sometimes wander round the house, in the midst of intense silence and darkness, scared but helpless, restless, too.
my mind flashed to the thing I fear the most, that vile thing, it haunted my family and my peace, I had several encounters with this thing, it was large, unusually tall, it left a cold feeling where ever it went, and it's face was undescribable. for several months I had seen this thing, climb the stairs, walk round the house in search of a time to strike, it slept under my mum's bed... I had tried to warn them about it, but they hadn't listened, they never listen to me.
Instead they tagged me as crazy and took me to see a psychologist.
I turned in my position, and I rested on the left side of my body, I folded my legs and placed my head on my folded arm, which was resting on the surprisingly soft pillow.
I stayed in that position for minutes before finally adjusting again. this time I layed flat on my back, my eyes were fixed intently on the ceiling, it was painted white and somehow someone had managed to touch it with a dirty hand because on the white ceiling was a handprint, at first staring at that spot in the dead of the night, I thought I was seeing things because the focus of my eyes seemed to waver, I closed my eyes tightly and kept it shut for a few seconds before opening it and I saw it there, the dirty handprint... it wasn't my mind after all.
I felt the urge to stand up and I did, asudden I stood up on my bed, I reached for the handprint, I couldn't touch it though, even though I managed to stand on my toes, but I was a little close to reaching it, after some few seconds my legs felt tight from the stretching and my breath was held in my chest, I gave up and I layed on my bed I had thought that I would reach it.
Breathing heavily I searched for what else I could do to keep my mind busy, I stared at anything but the handprint, and before I knew it I was lost in thoughts, I thought about my family... my dad had died when I was thirteen, I watched him die slowly and since I was the only one that was close to him, his death hit me like crazy, it left me with depression, the thought of waking up and not seeing my dad shattered my mind, turned me into something more, zombie like.
He suffered from a deadly illness, I wouldn't dare mention it's name.
His burial was very traumatic, I remember crying so hard my tears seemed like it had become never ending, it felt never ending... I remember feeling like being buried with him, I remember pleading to my mum to tell the embalmers to stop putting the coffin in the ground, I remember that it rained that day and since then anytime it rained his death crossed my mind, his absence would hover about me and sadness would cloud my entire being, at his burial we were all dressed in black, some of us had umbrellas covering our heads, I remember being wet so it means I didn't have an umbrella... I remember sitting in the back seat with Velvet, my elder sister and I remember her calling my name and poking me at my back, eager to make me feel worse than I already felt.
I also remember the hushing tone of my mother's voice , scolding Velvet and I remember her eyes fixed on my face after she had smiled... I never found the heart to return her smiles, her smile was sweet, infact her whole self was sweet... as if she bathed in sweetness every single day, she had big brown eye, a cute nose, beautifully curved lips and very white teeth. She was beautiful. very beautiful, same as Velvet... Velvet was a wonder.
She had a smile that could make you melt on ice, jeez my mum worshipped her, our neighbours, even our fellow members at church. Everyone saw her and not me, no, I was the other sister, the one who didn't smile often, the one who didn't stare at anyone's eyes or groom herself. Not that people hadn't told me that I was beautiful, they had, infact I'd grown tired of hearing it, I'd also grown to hearing Velvet pesturise me about my grooming, even now, in this tiny cage of a room, I heard her calm low voice telling me "just pass a comb through your hair and spread your lips a little, just that and you'll look more... approachable"
I gave a small laugh. I liked to remember all these things, it gives me a good feeling, well not good but it gives me a feeling of uhmmm... assurance, I made sure I wouldn't forget my dad, because my mum and my sister had, a few months after he had died, my mum moved us from the neighborhood we lived to another one, she believed that change in scenery would ease the pain and help us heal but she was just trying to make us forget my dad.
Yes, that was her plan because after a few months, we moved to the new neighbourhood, she started having sex with our neighbour, a certain Mr. Mueller... , handsome, lively, loveable with a strong big build and very darkish hair.
I had proof then because I saw concatreptives in her room, I kept shut about it even though it chewed me up, everytime I saw her walk back home from work I would get irritated, she disgusted me. But still I said nothing, I just got more and more depressed, she never seemed to like me, she chose velvet over me, over and over again.
so I was closer to my dad, till now I felt that he pitied me, so he took me where ever he went , very far away from the comfort of home, different countries, every season I was somewhere exotic... I never got enough of gifts, candies, toys, he had spoilt me to my core, but still I ached for the love of a mother, sometimes on the shore of very cold beaches, I would beg to be in the bossom of a mother.
My dad was a very successful architect, very famous, he built a solid wealthy life for us but after his death my mum claimed that he left very little in his will, she had to work more, that was what she said.
I remember vividly as if it happened just yesterday, this very event that I'm about to tell you.
Before my dad died, few weeks before he died, he sent for me, I was in my room one evening and I heard a light tap on my bedroom door, it was our maid, Rosette.
she told me that my dad was calling me. I followed Rosette into my dad's study and found him sitting on his wheel chair, his back was turned to me, immediately we entered as if sensing our presence he asked Rosette to leave, he asked me to close the door and I did. My mum and my sister wasn't home that evening, I had forgotten where they went but I knew they weren't home.
"come closer" my dad managed to say.
"Dada" I called him to ask if he was okay, my heart was pounding in my chest because I thought that he wanted to die, if he died nobody was home to help me, the only people in the house was me, Rosette and my dad, and he had just sent Rosette home.
"My pride, it's okay, I'm fine" he assured me
"okay" I said stepping closer to him, he didn't turn around so I went to kneel in front of him, he placed his hands on my hair and smiled deeply that his dimples were now visible
"you look so much like your mother" he told me.
I furrowed my brows but I didn't say a word, I didn't look like my mum, I looked more like him.
But I smiled because he was smiling, that moment alone was treasure to me, IS...treasure to me.
"get that box" he instructed me and I looked to where he was pointing and saw a big black box. I walked and I carried it. I added more care to it when he told me to be careful. he said it held my future and I didn't understand what he meant then, I was still confused when his lawyer walked hurriedly into the office, he came bursting through like king kong.
He dipped my thumb in ink and placed it repeatedly on the bunch of papers. I was too young to understand what they were doing. my dad assured me that he would explain things to me but this was urgent before my sister and my mum got back home.
After the long process, they washed my hands with something that made the ink and it's dark sign disappear completely from my thumb, even, they checked my clothes to see if the ink had stained it.
Before the lawyer left my dad told me that he had just changed his will and put all of his properties in my name, but it would only reflect when I was old enough to claim it and take decisions on my own. he created a swiss account for me and in the account was a whole lot of money...I'm talking nine figures, and since then no one knew about it, except me, my dad and the lawyer, the only ones alive were me and the lawyer. I heaved a heavy sigh.
Once again I turned from my former position, this time I layed flat on my belly.