I found solace under the welcoming shade of a tree, my mind consumed by a relentless barrage of memories. I marveled at the paradox of my existence—I was alive, yet not alive. I could see everyone and everything, but no one could see me. It was a surreal isolation that gnawed at my sanity.
As I sat there, fixated on a single point in the distance, I remained oblivious to the bustling world around me. My thoughts weaved through the labyrinth of my past, a silent reverie that shielded me from the mundane existence of the living.
My reverie was abruptly disrupted when a young boy, animatedly talking to himself, emerged on the nearby road. He was a living, breathing soul, unlike me, caught in this purgatorial existence. I watched him with a sense of detachment, my mind dwelling on my enigmatic predicament.
"If my problem were merely financial, it might be a more straightforward challenge," I whispered to myself, the irony of my situation not lost on me.
The boy suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned toward my direction, his voice laced with irritation. "Excuse me, but it's not nice to stare at someone like that!"
His words jolted me from my introspection, and I instinctively scanned the vicinity for the source of the admonition. However, I found nothing but empty air. No one could see me, I was sure of that.
"Maybe he's mad or insane," I muttered to myself as I retreated into my thoughts.
But the boy persisted, his annoyance escalating. "I'm talking to you!"
I looked around, perplexed. "Me?" I asked, my confusion deepening, as nobody should have been able to see me.
"Yes, you," he retorted, his frustration palpable. "It's not nice to stare like that."
I was taken aback. "Wait, you mean me? Can you see me?" I inquired, standing up from where I had been seated and cautiously approaching his location.
The boy's anger flared. "Yes, you! Why wouldn't I see you? I caught you staring at me, and I don't like it."
I couldn't believe my senses. I reached out my hand to stop him, and to my astonishment, I made contact with his skin. "Oh my gosh, I can touch you," I murmured, astounded by this newfound ability. I pinched myself, half-expecting to wake up from what felt like a dream.
"Please don't touch me; your hand is cold," he said with an irritated grimace.
"Sorry, but I can't believe you can see me," I said in awe, the realization that my existence was no longer an invisible, lonely one bringing a rush of euphoria.
He was visibly exasperated. "Are you a spirit?" he asked, clearly bewildered by the sudden turn of events.
I nodded, finally finding someone who acknowledged my existence. "Yes, I'm a spirit, but nobody else sees me. I'm surprised that you can."
The boy scanned the surrounding area, his anxiety mounting as he noticed the gathering crowd, many of whom were pointing fingers and muttering, labeling him as insane.
He began to freak out, his demeanor shifting from confusion to panic. He stood there in silence, a storm of emotions whirling within.
"Hey, hey!" I yelled, trying to anchor him in the disorienting reality.
"Ghost! Ghost!" The boy screamed, his face contorted with fear, and he dashed away, leaving his bag behind.
"Come back, please don't go!" I called out, desperation tinging my voice, but he ran off without looking back, leaving me once again alone in the invisible realm of the dead, albeit with newfound hope and uncertainty about the nature of our unlikely connection. ****** I sprinted into my house, my legs nearly brushing against my back with each frenzied step. The anxiety and fear coursing through my veins had triggered a torrent of sweat, drenching my body.
As I burst into my home, my heart pounding in my chest, I gasped for breath. "I have never been this scared in my entire life," I mumbled between labored breaths, my voice trembling with lingering fear.
Josh followed me inside, his concern evident. "Bro, what's wrong? You ran in like killers were chasing you," he remarked, his curiosity piqued as he entered my room.
"Please, lock the door. I don't want any other ghost appearing to me," I pleaded, my voice still quivering, and Josh quickly complied, securing the room against the unknown.
He sat down beside me, his expression a blend of amusement and worry. "So... what's the problem?" he inquired again, leaning in closer to listen.
I hesitated for a moment before sharing my harrowing experience. "I saw a ghost," I finally confessed, the words lingering in the air, laden with the weight of my fear.
Josh's initial response was unexpected. He burst into laughter, his jovial outburst filling the room. "Oh my God, guy, I know you're a bit eccentric, but I never believed it was to this extent," he said between fits of laughter, much to my annoyance.
I felt my anger rising, and I retorted, "I'm telling you something serious, and you're laughing, Josh!"
His laughter gradually subsided, and after a few moments, he asked, "Wait, so you're serious about this?"
I nodded solemnly, my dread still fresh in my mind. "Yes, and everybody in the market after Oyigbo now believes I'm mad or insane," I explained, my gaze fixed on him.
Josh stood up and instinctively took a few steps backward, his expression skeptical. "What is it? Why are you moving back?" I asked, perplexed by his sudden retreat.
"Are you sure it's not insanity?" he inquired, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
"Mtcheew," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Mumu, go abeg," I said dismissively, lying back on my bed. Josh had an uncanny ability to shift from laughter to teasing in the blink of an eye.
"Okay, oh. If you say so. Amanda is visiting me today, so I came to ask you if you have a condom," Josh mentioned casually.
I couldn't believe my ears. In response, I grabbed a nearby pillow and hurled it at him. "Do I look like a chemist or a drug vendor that sells condoms?" I retorted, laughing at his audacious request.
"Okay, I'm leaving," Josh said, backing toward the door. "Wait a minute, the ghost you saw, is it a male or female ghost?" he asked, his curiosity seemingly unfazed.
"It's a female," I replied, sitting upright with a bemused expression. "And we talked; she even touched me, and she felt cold, and that..." I began to explain before Josh interrupted.
"It's a girl? Wow, I hope she's cute," Josh quipped, more interested in her appearance than the eerie encounter I had described.
"So, out of all I said, it's the gender that's your concern?" I said, shaking my head in disbelief. Josh had a unique way of looking at things, that was for sure.
"Please don't go and contract AIDS one day, oh," I yelled out to him as he left the room, leaving me alone to ponder the enigmatic events of the day. ******
**Lisa's POV**
Being a ghost could be an incredibly lonely existence. For months, I wandered, yearning to connect with someone, anyone, from my spectral realm. I hadn't encountered a single fellow ghost during my travels. So, when I met Jay, the young boy who could see me, a spark of hope ignited within me. Maybe he could be the key to returning to my physical body.
"I need to find that guy," I resolved, standing up from where I'd been seated and setting off down the winding road. The dilapidated condition of this place still irked me, even in my ghostly form. The treacherous potholes and uneven terrain made it seem like I might tumble into a gaping chasm at any moment. Nevertheless, I pressed on in search of Jay. "But what if someone else can see me?" I muttered to myself, a hint of doubt gnawing at me.
I attempted to make contact with a passing man by waving my spectral hand, but he simply walked through me. "This is nuts. No one can see me," I whispered to myself, a sense of desolation settling in. "But why can that boy see me? Is he human?" I pondered these questions as they swirled through my mind, contemplating the enigma of my unique connection with Jay.
**Jay's POV**
The sun had long since set, and I was already feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing upon me. Gathering the bibles from my neighbors had been no easy task, and my eyelids were heavy with fatigue. I had done it in the hopes that these sacred books would repel the ghostly presence that had taken an interest in my life.
I strategically positioned the Bibles around my room, creating a makeshift fortress of spiritual protection. "Finally," I muttered to myself, satisfied with my efforts. "No more ghost trouble," I declared as I joyfully leaped onto my bed, ready to surrender to the embrace of slumber.
However, my much-needed rest was abruptly interrupted by a series of loud bangs—someone was incessantly knocking on my door. "Josh, what is it again?" I shouted in frustration, well aware that only Josh could pull such a prank.
"It's not Josh; it's the ghost girl," a voice replied from the other side of the door. The person attempted to alter their voice, but I recognized the familiar tone.
"Werey," I muttered in Yoruba dialect as I shuffled over to open the door. "Are you scared to open the door, Jay?" Josh teased, poking fun at my apparent apprehension.
I didn't dignify his taunts with a response and headed back to my bed. "Jay, are you now opening a Bible store or starting a church?" Josh remarked, noticing the bibles I had strategically placed around the room.
"Josh, good night. Be on your way," I said, pushing him out of my room.
"I just came to tell you that Amanda left today. I was on fire, my friend! If you'd seen the way I moved my hips," he said, wiggling his waist provocatively.
I smirked at his antics. "Josh, goodnight," I replied as I closed and locked my door. I returned to my bed, ready to slip back into the embrace of sleep, hoping for a peaceful rest devoid of ghostly disturbances.