THE DEVIL IN MY HEAD! Prologue.
Taiwo Jemimah@taiwojemimah
7 months ago
How am I able to move around?" I pondered, gaping at my surrounding as I shook my head in confusion.
It was humorous that the first thing I saw after my death was the thing that kept me going for years when I was alive, the people I would miss dearly, staring at me. The only people that would miss me. They were the only ones I could call mine in this big world.
Pictures of my friends and mother.
They were my decor and I once needed them to keep living, but they weren't enough. Nothing was ever enough.
But if I was deceased, how could I still feel?
My heart was in pain and my head throbbed. The headache was probably because of the drugs I took. I never thought I would go this way, overdose. But I knew it was my fate, the cross I had to bear for killing myself.
If you kill yourself, are you a murderer?
The breeze blew my way as it used to when I was alive, lifting the dress I wore by a few inches. My window was a very small one that had been my only source of hugs. I was pitiful.
Anytime I felt the breeze, I would tell myself that they were hugs from God. The God Nathaniel always claimed exit.
Did God exist? I guessed I would know when I get to heaven, but that would be if I go to heaven. Enough of me staring at the wall, though I had nothing better to do as a ghost. I gazed around the room and my eyes
stopped on something, something impossible. I did not understand.
I did not believe in magic nor do I believe in sorcery. But I could see another me groaning in pain.
I was dead, right?
But she was breathing.
I walked closer to her, more surprised than the day I learned the truth about my sad life.
I knew the girl on my bed. She had my hair, weaved in my favourite all-back style. The same hairstyle on my head as I gaped at her. She had my eyes, my skin, and my voice, and she was groaning in pain on my bed.
She was me.
But what was going on? Why were there two of me?
According to what I heard from people and the research I did, my body should not be moving if my spirit was out of me. How could she still groan in pain?
"H...help me! Somebody help!" She wailed, her voice filled with pain and fear so sharp that I rushed to carry her.
But my hands proceeded through her body. I almost fell, but stabilized my stance before I could. I tried to hold her hands from another angle, but it went through her again. She shouted, groaning in pain. She was begging for help.
But one thing was certain, I could not help her. I was a stupid spirit that could not touch anything.
She was dying and I had to watch her die.
I started to panic. I could feel the anxiety crawling up from my toes. The tingle sensation that I was familiar with.
She tried to stand up, but her strength failed her. She tried again, and again, holding her stomach which seemed to be her source of pain.
I silently watched her in agony as she moved to the edge of my bed. I shouted that she would fall and she did fall. Her shout of pain pierced my soul. Her gaze shifted to the drugs on the floor. She had vomited about five, but I knew there were 10 more inside her. She took the whole bottle few minutes ago. I tried to reassure her, but she seemed not to hear me.
"D...dad...He..l.p!" She managed to say, crawling on the floor as it looked like she could no longer stand on her feet.
I could not watch her. Everything looked painful. The way her legs flagged around as if they had no strength, her left hand gripping her stomach harshly, trying to hold down the pain, and her right hand aimed for her phone. But I knew she would not succeed or reach the phone. It was too far from her.
I quickly rushed to her table to pick up the phone. It seemed she was trying to call for help. But my hands could not pick up the phone. Stupid ghost thing. Being a ghost sucks.
I wanted to cry. I felt like crying. She did not want to die. She was shouting for help.
For once, can't Julia Nsa be saved? I was in pain, my heart was heavy. Somebody should help her.
And that was when it hit me that I was her and she was me. And I did not want her to die.
No, somebody should help us. Somebody should help! But she was dying. She was truly dying.
Looking at myself or should I say what used to be me on my bed, I knew it was the end. My end had come and it hurt so bad.
No, I did not want to go this way. I would not go this way. Like a coward, with many questions unanswered.
I was her and she was me and I refused to die just like that. All in vain, all for nothing.
Someone should please break down my door and rescue me before I take my last breathe.
CHAPTER NUMBERS: Chapter 1--28
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