Curse of the Nightfall

I am in school so my phone is in silent mode. Her attempt is a failure. After collecting all my things, I approached Stephen.

‘Steph, will you accompany me to the hospital. I will visit a sick friend confined in there?’ I ask him in pleading tone like a sweet thing that is persuasive. He declined. He needs to focus on something concerning some ATM issue like he needs to renew it so I said, ‘Okay, see you tomorrow then.’

At home, the messenger voice call is active. Someone is calling and its an obscure person. I decline and instead reply on the chat box.

‘Who is this and what do you want please?’

I don’t answer random calls in the internet especially if its an obscure account. She responds immediately with some bizarre message.

‘I know who killed your mother, Stephen. Its Roland Zambo.’

Its not even cryptic. Its simply bizarre that someone jokes on someone else’s death like that—or is it really a joke? I am baited so I dial her account. It is ringing and then it opened to a girl on the other side of the device.

‘Who are you and what did you just send me?’, I am demanding.

She is apologetic, ‘Sorry, I thought this is Stephen Chair. Who are you?’

‘I am Marie his girlfriend’

‘Well, I am Missy Riviera, Roland’s ex-girlfriend.’, it rings a bell, I remember her from Roland’s story—her missing girlfriend.

‘I’m not actually missing. I was hiding from Roland. He tried to kill me.’, she reveals then goes on to reveal what happened and how come she is exposing something that may compromises Roland’s apparently good-natured kind. I am listening in disbelief. This cannot be a lie. Something to this nature cannot be a lie. My God, we lived with a pretender—a psycho. Wait!

‘How do I know you’re the real Missy?’, I am extracting for validation. She sent a photo message of herself and Roland in a beach photo with a caption, ‘to Missy my love’, it’s enough for me to be troubled then I reflect on the event in the camping site. It could be him. I become frightened suddenly. A dangerous snake lived with us. But then, what if Missy is lying? It didn’t cross my mind to consider that angle instead it gives me the chills. I become paranoid. Then I hear a car revved up and off in the front. Somebody is here. I peep through the window sill. It is Roland.

I’m frightened. My heart beats fast and I’m fidgety. I think I’m not ready to face him. But he is here, accommodated by my mother and now they are calling for me. I put myself in composure, then proceeds to face him.

‘Hello, its been awhile that I wasn’t here. How are you?’, he is all smiles yet I know now its all worms in the brain that makes all the smiles. Yeah, a brain full of worms. I cannot maintain eye-contact as I am nervous.

‘What’s wrong?’, he notices the awkward way I deal with him. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I don’t feel fine Roland. Sorry, I need some rest.’, I am motioning for the room. But this simple act of pretence makes him suspicious. He knows already that Missy is alive and has been worried that she’ll be trouble. Before I enter the room, I overheard him trail a query.

‘Did you know Missy is alive?’, in a soft low tone like a growl of a threatened mongrel. I divulge this to Stephen, about my contact with Missy but we know we are helpless but since then, things change—we avoid him which he notices and in an uprising of emotion, in anger he believes we know something. He changed, too. He becomes adversarial.

Riding on a black Isuzu car, we are heading out-of-town for something related to our nursing course. Stephen is driving. We started on a fine day, crisp sky and a glaring sun. It never hinted that something bad is going to happen. We cruise past the town proper, and slows down for the building traffic. Its Tuesday and its market day and we are not in a hurry. The police station vicinity is a maze of parked cars and the police are in action for the day. They are quite visible but then with regards to the mystery killing, they are apprehensive for another murder event as tonight is another full moon this time a supermoon. People are all pre-occupied with individual matters to attend to yet the throbbing of fear is there, who could be the next victim? You have to be wary especially if you’re a man as the killing option is random and wanton like the intention is berserk. We pass the Catholic church with an on-going mass. The parish priest is a new replacement for the murdered priest and children are frolicking in play at the playground. The undertone of apprehension is missing in this imagery of fun and innocence.

Stephen speeds on a 60-mile per hour acceleration as the street now going to our destination is open and the smooth ride is quite relaxing. I’m playing Kurt Cobain’s All apologies on the phone. Yeah, its kind of sad listening to his music as its all bleak and gloomy hints of his suicide but that’s not the emotion right now. We are enjoying the sound. We sing along in that care-free road trip.

’What else should I be, all apologies.

What else should I say, everyone is gay!’

‘Yeah, all in all is all I am…’

But as we are imbibing joy, unnoticed behind us on trail is a red pick-up. Yes, its Roland. He intends to harass us, or even worse, to kill. He now made-up his mind in his deep paranoia that we know something. He took drugs last night, sleepless and he was so premeditated on doing something to protect himself. Nobody must know what I did or who I am to reveal it open for police investigation. He needs to find Missy, too, oh what a hard life—Why is it so hard to live with a peace of mind? They need to be silenced, and in this troubled mind, the mad man in himself, the beast surfaces to reveal its nature. He revved up on his vehicle and bumps on the followed car. Stephen almost lost control.