LETTER FROM THE DEAD

LETTER FROM THE DEAD

EPISODE ONE (1)

"Why are you always late Mr. Moses?" Mrs. Allen asked as Moses walked into the lecture hall.

That was the third time in a week that the young man will be disrupting a class by Mrs. Allen.

The professor looked at him sternly and signaled for him to move out as she turned her attention back to the class, she walked closer to her computer system in a bid to continue her teaching.

She noticed Moses standing still with an expression that proves he was sorry for his persistent late coming

She raised an eye at him as a warning, that was the third time she will giving him that warning.

As he walked into the class, she noticed his rough hair and his rumbled shirt, he was putting on a pair of trousers that were just too afraid to make contact with the ground.

"Why are you always late?" Wayne asked as he watched his friend take his seat beside him.

These two has been friends and closest companion since they started Stan ford and Wayne was one of the less surprised persons in the world concerning his friend's sudden interest in ghosts.

"Slept in the library again?" he continued.

"Focus on the class buddy" Moses replied bring out his books.

He battled with his oversized cloth as he tried getting the big neck of his 'polo top' to fit around his seemingly skinning neck.

"The lost girl is back" Moses said loudly as he turned backwards and forward as if looking for someone.

"And why is she crying and sitting alone at the last row?" He added as he inscribed something on his note.

He turned backward again, he observed the young lady sitting alone at the extreme, he was baffle, she never does that, she was always at the front sit, and it seemed to him as thou she was in tears.

"Why is she crying bro" He persisted looking at Wayne who seemed just too focused on the class.

"See bro..." Moses said holding him by the shoulder.

Wayne shrugged lightly as he released himself from his grip.

"Focus on the class bro" He said mockingly.

Moses smiled revealing his complete thirty-two, he has such bright face and an extra ordinary kind of pink lips.

Come to think of it Moses was more of a handsome young man, he had too much of a pink lip for any regular guy with his strong arms and pointed nose ready to deliver any lady in and beyond stand ford to him.

His hair was always kept neat and coyly giving him the best look a guy could ask for.

But the greatest irony in the complicated life of this self-acclaimed atheist is that Moses does not even have time for himself talk less of the ladies.

Apart from being a philosophy student and an atheist bearing a Christian name Moses was surrender with a web of ironic issues.

"See man she is crying" He continued looking back and forward at interval.

"Come on man.... The police haven't given a report on the disappearance of Kyle Spencer" Wayne said looking at the same direction his friend pointed him to earlier.

"There is nobody there bro" He added looking frustrated as he turned his attention back to the class.

There she was sitting with hair rough and tears on her face.

Kyle spencer never sits at the back and Moses was baffled that after her long disappearance, she reappears and clogs to the last sit in the lecture hall.

She seemed distracted from the class with tears on her face showing that she had been crying for quite some time now.

But here was Wayne trying to make him look crazy

'why is everybody trying to make me look crazy" He said giving Wayne a sharp look

"Well I won't be surprised if you go crazy because I'm not the one soaked up in this ghost adventure" Wayne replied laughing while Moses shrugged giving him a hard pat behind his head.

"Both of you get out!" Mrs. Allen shouted from the front where she watched both boys playing like love birds.

"Ohh sorry I was leaving already... I cannot believe this, its unacceptable" she added as she marched out of the lecture hall.

"That makes it the third class you have interrupted and ended" Wayne said looking at Moses disappointed.

"oops" He replied as he swung his bag pack round his shoulder and made for the exit.

"Where are you headed bro"

"Central museum" He replied walking down the hall way

"When was the last time you saw your mum" Wayne added shouting behind him,

"None of your fucking shit business man" Moses replied without stopping

"Try going home man, she called last night"

"And I'm tire of covering up for you "Wayne shouted as Moses continued heading out the hall way taking a curve that led outside.

***

Moses could be seen jumping into the house through the window, that has been his recent routine, this was the only way he could please his demanding step father who has always complained about his persistent late coming.

And jumping through the window was clearly the only way he could please Mr. Manson his stepfather.

He landed hardly on the floor picking himself and his bag up.

He dropped his bag on the reading desk and made for the bed dropping dead on it like a log of wood.

The sound of the old fan swinging tirelessly under his head as if it was about dropping down filled the room.

Moses smiled at himself as his thought got him laughing hard.

"This fan will just drop on me someday" he said smiling at himself.

He walked across the room towards the little fridge at the other end of the room, he opened it and brought out a bottle of water and began to gulp It directly from the bottle.

He clearly was tired, he threw the empty bottle across the room as he stretched himself and made for the reading desk, the sound of the wooden floor creaked following him

The Masons Mansion was a large edifice that stood far from other houses in Santa Clara city of California

The house was built by Mr. Masons his step father who is regarded as the best wood worker in the whole of Santa.

Moses sat quietly by his reading desk as he began to unpack his note

Something fell down, it was a sheet of paper, he looked puzzled as he read out the inscription

"I need your help" he read out as he looked at the note confused, he never remembered writing it so he was looking puzzled turning it forth and back.

He threw it gently under the desk in a bid to continue with his work, he was more concerned about discovering and proving the reality of spirits.

He brought out the new text he just got from the university's library: the existence of existence it was a book on the reality of the spirit realm.

As he made to flip through it the fan became slow instantly while the lights went off, he groaned in frustration as he stood up from his seat to check out the reason why the electricity office had decided to place him through this torture

As he made for the windows, the light was restored, he stopped abstractly and returned to his sit, he sat down and noticed the note on his desk, he watched it surprised, something has been added to the write up

"Please I need your help" he read out looking puzzled, he moved his sit backwards bending over to see if the note was still there under the desk

He remembered dropping it there

He felt a hand touching him from behind, the grip was cold as he froze in fear.