The bell rings again leaving me with a deep thought of the next class. I peer to my wrist watch, carefully studying the clock rotation. It's the last subject of the day, my most hated subject Chemistry. "Good afternoon class," Mr Zack says and we all respond weakly. As usual, he hisses and face the board. Everyone knows how boring the subject he teaches, but it's mandatory. "Unsaturated Hydrocarbon," he says as he points to the maker board. "Who can tell me two difference between saturated and unsaturated hydrocarbon?"
*I'm a witch*👺
Chapter one
The bell rings again leaving me with a deep thought of the next class. I peer to my wrist watch, carefully studying the clock rotation. It's the last subject of the day, my most hated subject Chemistry.
"Good afternoon class," Mr Zack says and we all respond weakly.
As usual, he hisses and face the board. Everyone knows how boring the subject he teaches, but it's mandatory.
"Unsaturated Hydrocarbon," he says as he points to the maker board. "Who can tell me two difference between saturated and unsaturated hydrocarbon?"
The whole class feels empty as everyone expect someone form nowhere to give an answer. As much as I'm keen to speak, it's better to remain mute.
"Sir!"
Without turning I know who's it. Peter.
Peter stands up and grab his crouch, leaning on it, he manage to stand.
"Come on, you don't need to stand," Mr Zack advise.
"Why can't he?" a female voice says, "It's not like he's going to last long after all."
The look on Peter's face says it all, but this are better than it used to be. Being the most brilliant boy in class, everyone automatically hates him, including me, sometimes. Peter is the reason most of us feel incomplete, he passes all seven subject, his scores are top notch, sometimes it feels like he's the only one in class.
Low-battery, that's what he's fondly called. At the age of five, Peter already owns an inhaler, at the age of seven, he begins to use crouches, his eye lens weaken at eleven and now he's always on glasses.
"Peter, you don't need to stand. We can hear you."
Peter smiles. "Ok sir," he sits and gives a long explanation as usual, making all of us seem like a dummy.
"A round of applause for him," Mr.Zack says and the whole class echoes of clap, but Peter keeps looking at Nnkechi sadly. The word "Low-battery" is beginning to have little effect on him, unlike those time he'll burst into tears. Everyone knows he's not going to live any longer, his lifespan is apparent.
Mr.Zack ignores Peter as he hope for an answer from someone else, surprisingly, Nnkechi saved the day. Before Peter, Nnkechi used to be the teachers favorite, not until Peter joined us this term. I heard he had solved the whole session mathematics questions, won seven debate, presented five science project, won three spelling bee and musical contest.
"May I?"
I look up to see Peter standing in front of me carrying a stack of books. Deep inside I don't want him, but I really don't want to seem like a bad person. I shift slightly and Peter drops to the bench, placing his crutches aside.
"What are you reading?" he asks.
I showed him the book cover and he cracks a smile which eventually turns into deep laughter.
"Nearly all men in Lagos are mad," he says while trying to catch his breath, "Is this a title the author decide to come up with?"
I scoff. "Were you expecting how to survive with cancer?"
Peter pauses and looks away from me, I felt bad for saying such, but words are like eggs, can't be reversed when broken. Slowly, Peter grabs his walking stick and stands up, I watch him walk into the classroom as usual, he should have get used to staying alone.
I only read two lines when Aisha interrupts me, the last thing I want is to dawdle my time with a gossipper.
"Haven't you heard?" she says with a slight tap on my shoulder. I knew it, she always has something to say.
"I think you should leave commercial and go for mass communication."
Aisha giggles, "I just wanted to let you know that Nnkechi and Bright have broken up."
Her words sink into my head and I feel weird, Nnkechi and Bright are known as the school couples, for what reason do they have to break up? My mind drift back to the rumor I heard last week about Bright liking someone else.
"This is your chance," Aisha says.
I scoff. "What has this got to do with me?"
"Don't you like Bright? This is your chance to give it a go."
I rolled my eyes. "Me keh, leave me oo. My main concern is my studies for now is how to make it to SS3."
Aisha looks at me and gets up, "Na you sabi, if you like, keep admiring him from afar."
As soon as Aisha leaves, he pass with some group of boys. I notice his gaze on my body, trying not to over stare, I pretend to be reading.
"Hi" he says and my heart skips.
"Hi" I reply with a big smile and he walks away to the canteen.
Deep down I feel excited with my heart racing faster. Aisha is kind of right, what if he's into me?
The bell rings again and I close my novel, it's the end of break time. I join the others who match into the chemistry lab.
*******************
"I can still see her face," I say to my sister who's busy with her Jamb CBT practice test. This is her third attempt, though she's been doing well in previous exams, but her score is not enough for her dream course.
"Amaka, you have to get it out of your head. That's what you get when you make contact with a witch."
"She was already dead when I got to her."
"And so? Don't you know about Buru, the man whose corps haunt people who were present at the day he was killed."
I sigh. "Is this the life we'll be living? Killing people because of the power they possess."
"They are evil," My sister says before drifting into silence.
************
After having my bath before going to bed, I notice something glowing in the dark. At first I assume it's my phone, not until I turn on the light to see a rosary on my study table.
I shift my books aside and a golden rosary caught my eyes. Carefully, I pick it and look closely.
My body runs cold as soon as I touch the rosary. In a split second millions of images flash in my head.
"Blood of Jesus," I say before tossing it out of the window. My heart race with fear, despite the cool AC and the fact that I just bath, rivulet of sweat pours out of every sweat pores on my skin.
Quickly, I open my Bible and read several verses until the tension inside of me reduce. Slowly I close my mini bible and slump on my soft foamy bed.
"Honey, are you ok?" My mom voice echoes from behind the door.
"I'm fine." I reply.
Thankfully, the images in my head are gone. For a moment, I felt possessed by the strange object. I've heard rumors of people running mad and doing strange things after picking or seeing strange objects.
My phone beeps and I turn on the screen to see a new message request from Facebook. I suppose it's one of those random strangers looking for new friends until I tap on the notification icon.
My heart raise as I sight the photo of Bright on my screen. For a moment, I switch off the screen and give myself some time to think. If I accept his request, won't it seem like I'm cheap? What if he's into me? What if he's breaking up with Nnkechi because of me?
I scroll down to chat with Aisha but she's offline. She must be asleep by now. It's almost eleven, I should also be asleep by now.
My phone shuts down and I place it on the table beside me, hoping for the alarm to wake me this time.
************
"No, not again."
It's past seven and my phone alarm fails me again. Without heisting, I get up from bed and put on my uniform and grab my bag, but something captivate my attention.
My eyes widens and my bag falls. There it is, on the table again, the strange rosary lays on the same spot where it was last night.
How did it get here?
.
.
TO BE CONTINUED.
*😋SPUNKY LITTLE BLOND😋* Molly Hansson returned to her parents home in a small community called Memory Lane just on the outskirts of Manhattan. Her father, Nicolaus Hansson owns and runs a small shop called Hansson's Clocks and Repairs. He is considered to be a master at his craft, all his clocks are handmade, each one unique. Their home is above the shop, a modest two-bedroom apartment, consisting of a small kitchen, fair size living room. It was small but cozy. The community consisted of family run business, by people of foreign nationalities from all over the world. Germany, Sweden, Africa and various other places. It was by no means a wealthy community. Just honest, hard- working people trying to make a decent living and a better life for themselves and their families. Molly had just finished her fourth year at college, she graduated top of her class in business and finance. Molly had no idea how much her life was going to change over the next few weeks. She stood in front of her father's store. It was only mid-day and the shop was closed. Frowning she looked around and seeing all the shops were closed shivered, a cold chill raced through her body. The shops never closed unless there was a death in the community. Fearing the worst she used her key to open the door and dashed up the back steps that led upstairs to the apartment. Her mother and father were seated at the round kitchen table, holding hands and heads hung down, neither one had heard her come in. "Mom, dad what's wrong?" she cried out. They both looked up, surprised to see her standing there.
To the public, Arabella was Owen's trusty secretary who catered to all his needs and served as the primary blood donor of his beloved, who was in a coma. Behind closed doors, she was Owen's submissive wife. Arabella was quiet and obedient, and she endured every humiliation without a word of protest. Rumored to be a neat freak, Owen had tossed the last woman who had dared to kiss him into the river. Yet he pinned Arabella against the wall and demanded, "Give me a child, and I’ll let you go!" Arabella pushed him away and flashed him a cold smile. "You are not worthy!"
Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. Only when Emma's life teetered on the edge, pregnant with Ricky's child, did he recognize-the love of his life had always been Emma.
In order to fulfill her grandfather's last wish, Stella entered into a hasty marriage with an ordinary man she had never met before. However, even after becoming husband and wife on paper, they each led separate lives, barely crossing paths. A year later, Stella returned to Seamarsh City, hoping to finally meet her mysterious husband. To her astonishment, he sent her a text message, unexpectedly pleading for a divorce without ever having met her in person. Gritting her teeth, Stella replied, "So be it. Let’s get a divorce!" Following that, Stella made a bold move and joined the Prosperity Group, where she became a public relations officer that worked directly for the company’s CEO, Matthew. The handsome and enigmatic CEO was already bound in matrimony, and was known to be unwaveringly devoted to his wife in private. Unbeknownst to Stella, her mysterious husband was actually her boss, in his alternate identity! Determined to focus on her career, Stella deliberately kept her distance from the CEO, although she couldn't help but notice his deliberate attempts to get close to her. As time went on, her elusive husband had a change of heart. He suddenly refused to proceed with the divorce. When would his alternate identity be uncovered? Amidst a tumultuous blend of deception and profound love, what destiny awaited them?
Being dumped by my mate, Ethan, on my dream New Year cruise tour was bad enough. Watching him swap spit with Vanessa? Absolute hell. Enter Lucas-the cocky, sinfully hot hockey Alpha-who claims I'm his mate. But he doesn't want love; he wants revenge, proposing a fake relationship to rile Ethan. Now I'm stuck sharing a suite with the guy who has secrets of his own. Christmas and New Year on a luxury ship was supposed to be magical...not a steamy, chaotic mess. What could go wrong?
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.
As a simple assistant, messaging the CEO in the dead of night to request shares of adult films was a bold move. Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn't receive any films. However, the CEO responded that, while he had no films to share, he could offer a live demonstration. After a night filled with passion, Bethany was certain she'd lose her job. But instead, her boss proposed, "Marry me. Please consider it." "Mr. Bates, you're kidding me, right?"