Chapter 40--THE HOMECOMING AND DRAMA 3

"Ariana, are you still there?"

"Yes mom, you can go to work, I'll eat after bathing" She'd insist but after a while, say goodbye and leave. She didn't like the fact that I was alone at home. She'd give me many instructions. "Don't talk to a stranger. Don't leave the house. Lock the doors from inside, and play outside. You're free to watch the TV. Just be fine and on the alert. I know you're a smart girl. Call me if you feel unsafe. You have your phone with you" and after me nodding a yes, she'd turn away with an unsatisfied look. Yes, unsatisfied because she was still worried about me.

"Are you sure you don't wanna go with me to work? You are not going to work, you'd just sit with me and watch me sew I promise" she would suggest, looking back.

"No mom, I just want to sleep" I would yell from the bathroom, and then when I was sure she was gone, after hearing her car zoom off, I'd slip into the tub and stay there for an hour or more, letting the water warm my body and watching steam rise out of my skin into the air. I'd only get out of the tub when I heard Mike's voice in the living room.

I'd wrap my body with a towel, run to my room, slip into a loose gown and grab a face towel to dry my hair, and then run into the living room straight into his arms. "You okay, pumpkin?" He'd ask rubbing my wet hair. Sometimes he dried my hair for me, some other times he watched me do it myself.

"Yes I am" He usually came to check on me around 8:30am. He said he resumed work by 10 but he had to be there by 7:30am everyday because he had to train other dancers and organize some karaoke, but he was only delaying because of me.

One more crucial thing that motivated me to resume school was the fact that everyday since mom and I arrived home, I had been seeing this figure pass by the trees beside my room. I mentioned earlier that I used to see a figure back there and then in the apartment Jack got for us after mom was discharged from the hospital. It was faint and subtle. I didn't know what colour of cloth it wore or its exact height, or what gender it was, but it was a human figure, it'd stop in a spot like it had frozen, and when my eyes moved away from it and I looked back to check, it'd be no longer there. One day, I actually gazed at the figure for split seconds, refusing to take my eyes off it. Mom was in the house, preparing food and I was outside, watching over one of the babies placed in a cot. I was not far from the house at all but my eyes were darting around as if i knew the figure would appear again. And it actually did. It remained there for about a minute or so and disappeared later. It was like I was being watched by this person because it didn't come out or show up if someone else was with me. Someone like an adult. It was only whenever I was alone. It scared me especially because I couldn't see the person's face, and I didn't know why anyone would be after me.

It went on like that, and he came more than thrice. That's when I had to go tell Mom about it. She said I was being paranoid, and that there was nobody around, and that the neighborhood was safe, or probably it was just a tree's shadow. She actually thought I was seeing Joe's ghost, or perhaps I was seeing things because i witnessed two friends' deaths in succession. She took to me to the hospital once, to a therapist but that was the last time I went there. I told her that the therapist's face was scary. His face wasn't. I just didn't want to see a therapist. I tried telling mom I was fine, and tried to make her believe that I actually saw something or somebody but it was futile.

However, She started to sit with me and stay by me everywhere I was, but the figure didn't appear again until we left the apartment. Like I said, it only monitored me when I was alone.

I don't know much about stalking but I think that when you're stalking someone, monitoring them secretly, you should be in hidden places. The person you're stalking shouldn't know you're stalking him or her. I think that's the purpose but this person always remained even when it was clear I was looking his way. Maybe he relied on the fact that he or she was unrecognizable. Well, it was both a good and bad thing for me. Good because at least, I know to be extra careful because someone is after me. Or maybe it was Joe's ghost. No, Joe never promised to appear to me. Besides, he wouldn't scare me like this figure did . Little did I know that what was coming was far beyond what I ever envisaged, now that the figure was beside my window back in our house, and, living in the trees beside my window. I saw his movements everyday but I couldn't decipher who he was.

One of those days I was still home, I just finished bathing and I returned to my room to clean my body with my towel. Everywhere was quiet. I was not hungry; my breakfast was going cold but I was not hungry. I didn't feel like watching TV either. My window was wide open, that's because sometimes I forgot about this figure trailing me. I was standing before my full length mirror, in preparation to shave my legs. It was one thing I did secretly- steal mom's razor from their bathroom and shave my legs clean. Of course the smoothness I got was always short-lived as it would grow back in a matter of hours. Besides, I injured myself sometimes. But the joy of having smooth legs for a moment intoxicated me.

So, that morning, I was shaving my legs while staring at the mirror, smiling at the satisfaction it gave to see a part already getting smooth. I first waxed it like I watched mom do to her armpit, so that it'd not hurt that much or be itchy.

I was doing that when I looked up and saw the figure, again, faintly in the mirror before me. The figure was behind me. I was so scared that I screamed, lost balance and injured myself with the sharp razor. It was bleeding but I didn't care. My mirror was in such a position that you could see my window and the reflection of the trees beside my room. My mirror made things appear closer than they were, so when I saw the figure, I thought he was actually behind me in my room. With shaky hands, I hurriedly went to the window and shut it, pulled down the blinds and switched off my lamp. Then I went to mom's room to get some iodine for the injury. After wiping it with wool, I applied iodine solution and then covered it with plaster. I planned to remove it before mom returned. Then I heard a knock on the main door.

I hesitated. But when I heard Mike's voice, I went to open it. He smiled on seeing me , he lifted me and put me back on my feet. He had an arithmetic text book and my favorite storybook in his hands. He didn't notice the plaster on my ankle.

"Good morning" he said, waving the storybook at me "Are you okay?" He asked because I didn't show any excitement. He expected me to be excited

"I'm fine" I said and forced a smile. I wanted to tell him to take me to school. I was ready to resume.

"You are not smiling" he said and walked in, and I shut the door behind him.

"I am bored"

"That's why I'm here, Look" he said showing me the books in his hands. That was not what I wanted.

"When are you going to work? You're not dressed yet?" I asked him, sitting beside him. This was the fifth day of the week after mom and I returned home. The other kids were back too, but they had all gone to school.

"I'm not going to work today" he said. I gasped. He was dressed in Jean shorts and a plain vest. He looked like he had been gardening; his hands had soil sticking to them and he also smelt like wet grass. He picked up the story book, opened it and started like,

"So, should I read you this story first, or would you rather we solve some arithmetic?" He smiled.

"What are you doing, Mike?"

"Well, I want to be your teacher until you're ready to go back to school. Please, dear princess, could you do me the honour of employing me as your teacher as from today? I won't charge you any pay, ma'am" he added and stretched forth his hands towards me. I had to laugh because it was so funny.

"I want to watch you dance" i said instead of "Take me to school". He laughed, jumped up excitedly and started to dance. First like a clown, and then systematically.

"Not today, Mike"

"When?"

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow is my birthday" I muttered. I wondered if anyone even remembered. Mom wasn't talking about it either. I was going to be eight the next day, but I wasn't feeling excited.