ANNA | Then
I stayed away the night after Eve met James. I was filled with anger and self-loathing.
It just goes as well to say that I couldn't stand being in the same room with Eve though it wasn't her fault that she had no clue he was mine before she met him at Will and Ella's party.
I waited two nights for him to call me only for me to remember that we hadn't exchanged numbers. A little internet surfing disappointed me as well, there were so many James in the world. About a million in Ghana, so many more in the US and UK combined. Although it annoyed me, I kept pondering over every single detail Eve narrated to me about their meet-cute.
She was talking to Will when it happened. When she moved across from him to grab a drink from the bar and met him. They collided, she said. His martini seeped into her white blouse, the one I got from Primark, another gift from me to her. While te
Eve| ThenI was sitting in Doris's dainty candy shop when she first spoke to me about sex.It was inspired by her new tenants, a young couple from a slum settlement, Nima just on the outskirts of the community. She claimed they lied about their ages, twenty and twenty-three years old respectively but they looked anything but. I got a good look at them for myself and agreed with her that they did look younger, teens perhaps.I couldn't help but feel sympathy for her because it wasn't easy waking up early at the crack of dawn to sell but I was on edge. I had just come back from school exhausted, my legs were sore and weakened and I should have never greeted her, to begin with. She told me to stay away from boys, that they were bad news and sex wasn't for me at my age. I don't know why I let her talk because I did know what sex was. I was young, like thirteen going on four
Alice | Now The next day it rains, taking me by surprise. The rain droplets stain my bedroom window. The gutters are nearly flooded to the brim and from a distance, it runs through pleats in the low-lying streets, accumulating at the sides of the pavement so that when you stepped out of the house, your shoes get drenched. Desmond complained about it. He said it was raining cats and dogs and it was going to be difficult getting to the car in the downpour, making us late for the service. In my view, it is a gloomy day to go to a funeral-a day we bury Eve. The same day two other people are going to be put six feet under. When my aunt and uncle sat both Melly and I down after dinner to explain what happened, I got to know that it wasn't just Eve who died. Unexpectedly, both James and Annabel were gone too. Even though I never particularly liked my sister's best friend, I couldn't help
The taxi driver and I are antsy. Occasionally, our eyes meet in the rear mirror, his to my bloodied shirt and mine to his phone. He's wise not to reach for it because my current state shouldn't mean anything to him. My bloody nose speaks volumes.The taxi driver and I are antsy. Occasionally, our eyes meet in the rear mirror, his to my bloodied shirt and mine to his phone. He's wise not to reach for it because my current state shouldn't mean anything to him. My bloody nose speaks volumes.The car comes to a stop. The driver waits for me to pay him. I don't bother searching my pockets for money."Wait here. I'll be right back."I try to shake the visceral feeling away and focus on the task at hand. The house is empty but I make a cautious step not to make any sound. I haven't stayed here for long to know where they all are; my aunt and her husband but I know who's here. Alice. She must be sleepi
ALICE | Now There are always facts and there are lies. The fact is, It's the early part of March in the year 2019. The icy wind coming from the windows cuts through me as easily as a knife would. My teacher, Mrs. Andersen, has no clue she's my anchor back to this world. I'm slowly receding into a world of my own, one unlike this one where there are only illusions. A place I call lost at sea. There are always facts and there are lies. I should bear the brunt of it, after all the teacher is always right, and the student is definitely always in the wrong. But here's another fact, everything she says is three sentences condensed into one and I cannot decipher if she's speaking gibberish or plain out English. It's a miracle she isn't my English teacher but my Biology teacher. She talks with the speed of a ticker-tape accelerating along a page, and that's not the only thing hindering my
JEWELL | Then I don't think it was a coincidence—how I met the woman who's been declared dead for over a day now. It had to be fate because the timing was perfect. Exactly a week before she died. That morning it was the chilling cold bathwater that woke me up and the never-ending ringing of my phone. I wished it hadn't that I could've waited in there until my fingertips became raw and pruned, and my palms a mass of wrinkled skin. I loved it when that happens, and I was reluctant to give the solace up. My roommate's classes were earlier than mine so she'd rouse at the crack of dawn with such a douce mind I wondered how she even made it to the door without tripping. The ringing ceased for a bit, and I cuddled deeper into the water, not feeling the foam anymore. It was in those times I felt I could drown if I ever wanted to, but then the thought would go away as quickly as it came making me ques
EVE | Then Dear Alice, There's something you should know. Something they don't really teach you in school, that only life has the luxury of doing. Monsters come in different shapes and sizes. I remember when the real monster came into my life. It's not the kind of monster we think is under our beds or the ones we read about in fairy tale books—no, those are too pretty. A figment of our imagination. The actual thing was big, bad and ugly. And whether I liked it or not, he was my monster. He was tall, all six-foot-six of him mocking my and mama's short frames, with serious hawkish eyes that must've seen a lot in his days. They were hard and cold, almost frost-like, but then on some days, they'd be almost as warm as a hearth. He looked oddly out of place with his burgundy V neck T-shirt and blue faded jeans that hang low around his waist and dropped to his fe
ALICE | Now When you lose someone, there's a process you go through and it doesn't help that people keep staring at you. They wait and anticipate your breakdown—the crashing of a chair against the wall, the loud declarations of denial, and the tears that'll glide effortlessly. The tears never come for me, not when we lost contact with mama and surprisingly not when I hear Eve's dead. Dead as a doornail. Gone like the wide. As I walk in a daze, I take a stroll down memory lane and for some eerie reason, I can remember my childhood without the pain and the gory details. Eve wrote poems and hanged them on her bedroom walls. They were everywhere; plastered firmly near the windows, by her bedside lamp and even on her wooden wardrobe. I loved scrutinizing them because it was one of those rare occasions; I got to see something pretty other than the blank walls with flaking white paint in my room. I
JEWELL | Now Two weeks after Eve's death I pass by similar-looking houses while driving by in my Honda. They have the same paint colour, same roofing design, some even have the same hedges out in front but with different shades of evergreen. I drive slowly, cautiously, looking at my rear mirror. The police will be looking for me very soon. I don't know how soon. It can be minutes, hours, seconds, I have no clue. What I do know is that someone around the house would have called to report a disturbance and they'll enter the house and see what exactly I'm hiding from. With my right hand on the steering wheel, I use my left to pull the hem of my shirt above my head quickly so I won't lose sight of what's in front of me as I drive. Some of the blood on my shirt is smeared on my left cheek. My eyes blur from oncoming tears and my nostrils flare in disgust at the stench of it.