By Jessica-Ken:

🙊She was no girl…
…she was my sister 😲

©Jessica Duru :-*


A soft tap came on the window as I laid on the sofa, with my head turned to the side. Raising it up a bit, partly turning, I checked to see who it was but found no one instead, groaning furiously at the thought. Who’d be playing such tricks this morning? An outrageous knock on the front door came right next, jolting me; the harsh ringing of the doorbell following, prompting me to stand.
The lightbulbs flickered and another knock came on the door as I made to open it. Thinking for a while, while running my hand on the doorknob, I breathed a sigh and opened it, seeing no one but a dusty old scarf—I arched my brows and bent to pick it, taking a close look at it as I found myself saying it was my mother’s. Mom’s old scarf? I couldn’t help but marvel. It’s been years! I shut the door immediately and walked back to the sofa. Observing it again, I noticed the slight tear along with the tip. The tip had some red mark. Must have been stained, I said to myself. I ran my finger on it, bringing it closer to see. Hm. Paint—I thought with a shrug, wiping my fingers on my pants. Another knock came interrupting; one so light. No sound came, making me stand again. “Who is there?” the awkward silence sent icy chills. A ghost—my mind pulled up suddenly. I was scared to think it was one. A ghost certainly wouldn’t knock, would it? I tried to drive the crazy thoughts out. My poor frozen spine had already glued me to the spot, with the flickering bulbs sending millions of bumps all over me.
This time I knew for sure that someone was at the door. Wasting no time to open it, I saw my sister Sequil; her hair wet and dripping, with her face all white. She walked in shakily, acting like one who had witnessed a horrifying scene.
I asked if she was feeling well, and why she hadn’t left with the others. Before then, Mom told me they were going to Brazil.
They wouldn’t leave Sequil behind, would they? I knew for sure they wouldn’t. “Seq, talk to me,” I urged after much thoughts. “Talk to me. Why aren’t you with Mom? Is everything okay? Are they alright?” I asked simultaneously, wanting her to talk. She could only stare while I went on. The sight of her hair being wet made me question even more. “Sequil—” I stopped, knowing this wasn’t my sister. Sequil was a jolly girl who’d talk at every chance given. “Sequil!” I called louder, not bearing it.
Sequil uttered no word but kept shivering. Touching her, wanting to make sure it was really her, the coldness of her body sent gazillions of chills through me, as I shuddered and withdrew my palm.
My sister… as cold as ice?
The realization made me panic; all I could think of was to call our family doctor. “Sequil, we have to call Dr. Ben,” I shivered as I spoke. “You’re freaking freezing.”
Sequil said no word but rose to her feet.
Dismayed—filled with wonderment, I watched as she walked to the guest bathroom, seeing her enter slowly; she shut the door and then came a ring. “What’s wrong with Sequil?” I thought aloud and turned in the direction of my phone. Seeing Mom’s name on the screen, I was happy at least, quickly taking it up from the sofa, making to answer; her voice coming in immediately at my thumb’s command; the last thing I wanted to hear, following put: “Your sister is dead, Johnpaul. A car crashed into the backseat on our way to the airport.” my mind flashed to the girl in the bathroom. Could it be…?






A student of the popular Nnamdi Azikiwe university. A Human Anatomy stud—and a passionate writer, with the hope of one day making the world a better place.
~Authoress Ciara

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