By Jessica-Ken:

ᑕᕼᗩᑭ丅ᗴᖇ 丅ᕼᖇᗴᗴ
Back to our bit by bit posting

Ikeme went back, forgetting all about why he came outside. He told his wife everything, insisting they saw a priest. “My wife, please let’s take this boy to church. This is not ordinary o.”
His wife shut—“Taa! Puchionu!. What is not ordinary? Is it not what you see kids of these days do?”
Ikeme looked at her, not sure if she was the one talking. “Kids of these days?” Papa Amadi shook his head, concluding that his wife was heavily blinded. “Do you not see the way he does?” he asked, resting his elbows on his legs, with his chin made to rest. “Have you seen anyone behave in that way?”
His wife hissed and averted her gaze, resting it on the clock. “Where is that boy nah?”
Ikeme said, “Hm,” he asked, “Has he gone out again?”
Amadi rushed in at that minute, panting heavily. “Mama—” his breath couldn’t let him speak.
His mother asked him what the problem was, swiftly getting to her feet, making towards him—she asked if everything was alright—as Amadi burst out laughing, getting them confused.
“Amadi, what is it?” His dad joined to question, as he continued.
“Amadi—” his mother called with a worried look.
“Amadi, say something. What is making you laugh?”
Amadi continued, walking to his room with hands placed on his belly, as his parents watched, wondering if their son had gone mad.
“You see what I’m saying,” Ikeme said to his wife, as she shot him a stare he recognized. “My son is fine. she said, trying to convince—he is fine!”

Amadi laid on the floor, still in that state, and made to shut his eyes as an image stood carved on the wall, disappearing almost immediately. It was a shadow, he could swear. The shadow reappeared, and Amadi anxious to know who’s it was, followed it to the back door.
“Amadi—” he heard someone call. “Amadi—” he couldn’t recognize who it was.
Amadi was half scared, and he made to move backwards as something caught his legs and he fell. He was terrified to the core. He didn’t know if he was dreaming, or it was his mind playing tricks on him. “Who are you?!”
The voice drew closer. “Amadi—”
“What do you want from me?”
Amadi could see his evening visitor very well. He had never seen a ghost before, but this sure gave him the creeps. He shut his eyes, breathlessly praying, as he promised the Lord to be good if he saved him from this man.
“Amadi, wake up!”
Amadi opened his eyes to see his mother staring at him. He asked her what the time was and if she had seen the man. His mother asked worriedly, what man he was speaking of, and Amadi rose to his feet, with eyes focused on the door, as he said, “He’s here.”
“Who’s here?”
“He’s here.”
Amadi’s parents wasted no time taking him to the priest’s house. “Father Mmadu, please save our son. He is no longer himself.”
Father Mmadu observed the boy before proceeding to pray. He quickly removed his hands, seeing what laid inside of him, bursting into tongues, as he reached for the holy water beside. “In the name of the father…”
Amadi roared.
“And of the son…”
Amadi screamed.
“And of the holy—” the holy water was knocked off before he could complete.

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ ₣ØɄⱤ

The Reverend Father had been rushed to a hospital the minute Amadi aggressively pounced on him. The latter had dismantled his face, ran off, and left him lying almost dead. His parents had seen for themselves that truly their son had gone out of control, and they searched frantically for him.
“My son. Oh, my son—” Amadi’s mother couldn’t stop crying on their way home, having searched. She was worried sick about her only child, praying heavily for God to come to their aid, as the view outside flushed goosebumps all over her. “Stop the car,”
Her husband didn’t need anyone telling him, as he did. “What has our son done now?” he asked as his wife shrugged her shoulders in a way to tell she didn’t know, and got down.
“Madam, where is your son?” A man emerged from the crowd. “Where is he?!”
“P-please what has he done?” Nwakaego was terrified, seeing how outraged they were.
“Madam, no dey speak English,” another man appeared. “Where is your son?!” Amadi’s mother couldn’t help but cry, knowing the end has come.
She was led to where a boy laid stretched out on the ground, as her husband gave a yell, remembering his dream.
“So, this is what the dream was trying to tell me?” he muttered to himself as Mama Amadi had her hands over head, hot beads of sweat rolling down her face. “This boy has killed me.” she said to no one in particular. “My son has killed me!” a piercing pain shot through her heart, and she collapsed.


Amadi’s mother was rushed to the hospital—on reaching there, she was pronounced dead.
“Eei!” Papa Amadi couldn’t hold back his tears. His wife was gone; he could hear her voice echoing in his ears; “My son has killed me—” he truly has. Ikeme blamed himself for letting her come with him. She’d have been alive if she had stayed in the car—those were his thoughts. He remembered the strange man’s words. The spirit of the one he‘d mentioned, was truly in possession of his only child.

∙∙·▫▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫ₒₒ▫ᵒᴼᵒ more to come

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩ To Be Cont’d ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑


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

Articles: 241

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