When Hope opened her eyes that night and saw Badmus Kenny standing at the door, dressed in his school uniform, she wasn’t surprised. She had spent a freaking hours mulling over it – trying to get it out of her mind-then getting back to thinking about how her teenage father committed suicide. It was just a dream she told herself. Just one of her on-the-edge-of-sanity-cliff dreams.
Badmus Kenny was standing there, light was on. Nora was snoring. But it was a dream. The young man smiled at her, one slowly elastic cold smile, his soulless dark eyes stared with dark humor. Staring back at him was like staring at an abyss, nothing but shadows, emptiness and echoed pasts. But he was right there. Her father was right there, and she was dreaming.
Badmus Kenny held that creepy smile, he waved and gestured for her to follow. It was all a dream, so Hope jumped down from the bunk and followed. Hope could see the tag on his shirt, he was the games captain, his uniform was a bit baggy and way out of fashion; but he was wearing those in 1997, and obviously, Aunty Alice thought it was cute.
“Dad?” she called. It sounded queer calling him ‘Dad’, Kenny looked just few years older than her.
Badmus Kenny nodded, still holding his smile, he nodded the second time, gestured for her to follow, turned and walked away, leaving the door still open. The door was closed, they never sleep with the door open, another reason Hope was sure it was a dream. Doors don’t open by themselves. It doesn’t happen in real life.
She walked on, bare foot, past the door, she reached for the knob and closed it behind her. Hope never remember closing a door in her dream, but then how much of her creepy dreams did she remember?
She was down the stairs, walked past Mama Nosa’s room, past the main which was opened wide, she stepped into the wide portico. Goose bumps creeped up her arms and back, the tile felt cold, the air was chilly. But Hope kept walking like she had always done in her dreams. Down the steps, past the hedges, she followed the man towards the main gate.
Soon, she was outside. She looked back at the tail gate, turned and followed her father. Chips of granite dug into her feet but she didn’t mind, it was a dream, she’d wake up and it will be alright.
There was something quite real about the cold though, her teeth chattered. She hugged her self, it was then she noticed her fingers. I thought your fingers aren’t five in dreams. She had read that from a blog, maybe it was a myth, besides how many people care to count their toes in a nightmare.
Doctor Bayo had read from the books, ‘the one with colorful pictures’, and many more. He was quite certain of his correctness when expanded on the topic of dreams: how nightmares were just the way the mind memorizes how to cope with challenging situations, how dreams were product of activities, thoughts and desires.
From months of therapy, she was already well intimated with thoughts on the topic. She had always wish she could meet her father and asked him why he had to die, if it was because of her. No one told her why he committed suicide, but now she has a chance to know the truth. The truth she was reluctant to ask for, this was all in her mind, if she asked a question, she’d might get the reply she feared. She felt a mix of anger with anxiety thinking about Badmus Kenny and how she deserved an explanation, but she kept following biding her time, trying to find the right question.
“where are we going?”
Badmus Kenny looked back and pointed at school building. She nodded.
It was a long walk on sore feet, dressed in nothing but her pajamas.
A gold ore moon hung low in the misty skies, there were dew on the grasses, it was all quiet except for the chipping insects, and occasional birdcalls. They walked on, through the large hall, passed the lunch halls, Maddison Hall, Lincoln hall, Louise Jr Hall, past more class room, up a flight of stairs. Hope realized, they were headed towards offices.
A long march from adjoining building to the next past offices, with name and designations tagged on the doors, Mr Haruna, chemistry teacher… Madam Rosalind, French and Music…
The principal office was last in the hall, and just before the entrance is another hall leading to the left, and barricaded by a metal bar. Bolts chimed, hinges creaked, the door opened. The man entered, Hope followed.
There were awards, medals and framed certificates on the walls alongside framed pictures of teams or student that won which, their names were written below in bold prints.
Badmus Kenny pointed at His name, he was captain of the basketball team in 1997, the team all squatted around a cup with streamers hung on the side, they were all beaming at the camera, all frozen in time.
Hope noticed the mechanical robotic motion of his arm as he pointed at another name John Dike, was the best goal scorer in the 2008, Delta state inter-school pro-soccer tournament. “what about them?” Hope asked. If Badmus Kenny heard, there was no answer other than the deafening silence in the abandoned school building.
He pointed at yet another familiar name. Tobi Mascot, a jock with dead eyes. He was also a basketball player. “what about him?”
Once again, Badmus Kenny was silent, only his hand moved towards another picture. It was yet another familiar name, one Nora had tortured her and herself with every night. Anthony Laurence. Hope gasped, the man smiled as if that was the expected reaction. Slowly he nodded.
He turned, Hope shifted for him to pass, then followed him out. She heard a Jam of iron and was pretty sure it was the barricade closing behind them.
They went the same way they came, past the offices, down the stairs, past the classroom, then the lunch hall was just in sight. Kenny stopped, he was staring at the opened door to Louie Jr Hall. Hope caught up with him and followed his gaze. He breath caught to her throat, she felt her heart tighten, his chest ache. She wanted to look away but couldn’t.
Someone was hanging from the ceiling, suspended by a rope, gently turning and turning. The still air rustled the figure’s clothing.
Hope had had enough, it was time to wake up, she closed her eyes. “it’s just a dream, its just a dream. Wake up!”
She slowly opened her eyes and they were everywhere, the shadows, on both end of the hallway, in the lunch halls, all converging towards her. Hope screamed as loud as her lungs could such that far away in the dorm, Mrs. Rosalind (who wasn’t having the best dreams as well) jerked awake, the principal too, some other staffs and students.
In the place of Badmus Kenny was a shadow. All around were living walking shadow.
“What if…” the thought came unbidden, she tried to stifle with in a pang of fright, “what if this is not a dream?”
She felt cold, shivering all over. Her heart might burst with all the thumping; her breath was erratic. Some cold wind was blowing, she could hear rustling sounds, like pages of books rapidly turning, something flapping about and it all seemed to come from the shadows, confidently approaching her while she pined at the wall in front of the one that had masqueraded as Kenny.
It wasn’t a dream, she realized, it was real, too real, yet unreal, like a collision of two worlds, a world that followed the dictates of scientific principles of order and chaos, and this other worlds whose main occupants were psychiatric patients.
They were crowding around her, making the ever increasing raspy noise. “Stop!” Hope screamed on the top of her lung.
And everything stopped. They all stood still.
From the collective oleaginous blackness came the impression: “Louise Jr coming…” before her, images flashed, each individual faces, a boy she never knew hanging from the ceiling; Kenny, lying peacefully on the floor of his room, dead; John Dike, floating lifeless on the lake; Tobi Mascot lying flat on the floor, bleeding from a fall…
She yelled but she couldn’t get away from the impressing the shadows around gave her. Again in unison, “Louise Jr… coming…”
“…Anthony Laurence…”
Growl. it came in a guttural sound from down the hall. The shadows stopped flashing images before her eyes, planting thoughts in her mind. “You dare!” a male voice shouted.
Hope turned towards the direction of the growl, and saw the eyes. The same eyes she’s glimpsed at the chapel. Before she knew it all the shadows dissipated in a hollow whoosh.
The figure was moving close, confidently approaching, still growling. Something about those eyes made her dizzy, the figure was all blurry by the time she might have appreciate who, or what it was. Knowing what it was however, was the least of her motive, she wanted to run as fast as her leg could, but she wasn’t standing, she couldn’t stand, she was leaning on the wall, even then she was slowly slipping towards the floor.
It wasn’t a dream.
Excerpt from ‘Santa Maria High’ by Vittorio Topaz, Available on Wattpad.
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