A Ghost in Africa

nted houses, watched movies, even played a couple of death themed games. You might even live in

Elias Dum a

oom for the past twenty something hours, unable to leave, a little unsure if I'm indeed dead, or if this was some long alle

t each time I get close to that door, the strangene

ng too much cartoons and had an over-active imagination, but I knew she was wrong. It was more than the sobbing. At times I'd hear multiple voices and hundreds of clocks, ticking and talki

orst case scenario, you're before a panel consisting of your parents, an exorcist-pastor and some prayer warrior answering the question "Who gave you th

as as simple as any child's room could be. One bed, fancy lights and chairsI never really used. I almost chuckle

pping in a sink. That's how it always starts. I floated forward still, as silent as only a ghost

ce it open from the other side, someone very strong. I paused and

door, even slower than I had the first time, steeling my nerves not to bolt. Whatever it was that shoo

lay behind it. The voice was getting clearer now, it was a feminine voice, and it wasn't just a whisper. She - it, was humming, barely above a whisper, a

enveloped me. I heard

" I turned ar

saw nobody. Are there ghosts even to ghosts? I was petrified. I darted towards my position atop the bed

h my hands, but my hands fell right through my head. The tapping had not abated even for a bit. The door shook as though it would shatter any moment now. I reeked of fear, my eyes shut, praying

d begun, it ceased, except the ti

es. The lights

t of my

ed and

than hers, with large unblinking black eyes that accented her witchy-wide lips. Her hair was unmade and pa

?" Her shrill voice thun

was still watching her, openmouthed. Her skin was so pale, like it was about to rot. I was so drenched in fear that I started shrinking. Th

red again and I could swear I hea

next word on my lips was 'mine', but one of the few surviving cells in

ust

osts fainted, I would have found out

pidgin. Immediately, the scary 'aboki' shank to her norma

rself in delight. Immediately, about a dozen other child

spoke so I assumed she was talking to me. My response wa

m as the female ghost that was bent double with laughs. Obviously, her joke had grown stale to them, as they all paid no attention to her, ev

rdo eyes you get from doing lots of bad things over and over again. From his outfit, an upandan - a Nigerian native long-sleeved top, with the trou

ese were indeed nine-year-olds, then they must have been thoroughly underfed. They were all identical, dressed in the same blue shirt and black

now floating at the far end of the room, way from the rest of us. He st

ing about me as regular gossips in school would. They were all dressed casually, in very simple 'house' gowns, except the lig

rily at her hand and then back at her face, appraising the smile that she wore. What did sh

still not return

and lost her smile,

ll trying to sound

huckled, "that'

ed not to s

erms with it" she motioned at a rather funny looking fat boy just beside that gossiping gang of four. He,

ching out to shake her still outs

d my hand passed right through hers. Somehow, she he found this

g, seeing that their eyes had never left my face even for a second since they had shown up. As suddenly as she had begun laughin

t what has been killing nine-year-olds