Over the weeks, Bimpe noticed strange patterns. Every time she wore the wig, men avoided her. A promising date she had been looking forward to abruptly canceled after spending an evening with her. When she confronted him, he mumbled about feeling uneasy around her.
Her nights became restless. The singing grew louder, and now, the voice spoke. It mocked her.
"Did you think you'd find love? Foolish girl.
I am your crown, and I shall rule your world."
Bimpe began to question her sanity. She told her best friend, Chioma, about the sounds, but Chioma laughed it off. "You're just stressed, Bimpe. Take a break."
But Bimpe couldn't escape the wig. Every time she considered discarding it, she felt a strange compulsion to keep it. It was as if the wig had a hold over her.