College students Anna and Ainsley have a final year project, an interview with twenty first century multi-billionaire businessman and entrepreneur Calvert Ghislain. An established Englishman who made his name in the top ten Forbes of America.
But w...
Ainsley looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. he had dark circles underneath his eyes, they were so dark that it scared the shit out of him. Even as he closed them, he could still see her, standing in the stall, blood running down her eyes. And the dead child. The one that lay unmoving.
He splashed some water on his face, his hands were still shaking. He had been up since 4 in the morning searching all over all social media apps for her. Damn him, he didn't even know her surname or if she used some other name for her social media. He had found over five thousand people bearing the same name, but none looked like her.
But the question was, how would he have known who she was? He barely even knew her. His thoughts they were killing, he had to find a way of reaching to her, through any means. She couldn't be dead, and what if she had his child, was he ready for responsibility? He shook his head no. This was all crazy, he might as well admit himself in an asylum, he was running mad.
He walked down the stairs and he saw Owen running about playing with Eli. Great he was seeing dead children, it was confirmed, he was mentally unstable.
"Clara?" He made his way to the kitchen. She was standing by the stove making something. It smelled so yummy and at once his tummy started jubilating with joy. She looked up and a small smile played along her lips.
"Are you hungry?" She asked, he opened his mouth to reply but then saw Hannah standing by the stove, the dead child in the pan and a bloodied knife in her hand. He fell back and hit the back shelf. Clara was at his feet in an instant, he opened his eyes, but things looked blurry. The room was void without colour and he could hear his name being called.
"Ainsley, where are you?" He stood up and ran for the door.
"Ainsley?" Clara called, but he was so focused on leaving the house. He reached the steps on the poach and stumbled down, he had tripped on something. When he looked at his foot, he saw the placenta tied around his leg and it was still connected to the child's stomach. He fumbled with it, trying to untie it, but it just got tighter around his ankle, stooping the free flow of blood to his feet.
What was the point of his foot anyway?
He grabbed a near by stone and hit the hardened flesh, but it didn't budge neither did it move, he didn't care where he hit, as long as he hit the piece of skin off. A hand stopped him form crushing his feet and when he looked up, he saw Clara. Where had she come from?
"What on earth are you doing?" She had a horrid expression on her face, when he looked down, he saw he had been hitting his feet, but there was no pain, his feet felt numb. "Come, lets take you inside." Hurriedly he shook his head.
"No, I am good, I have to get home." She gave him a worried look. Ainsley had basically grown up around Anna, no they were not family but best friends. Clara was like a second mother to him, after his own mom, and he could understand how she felt now. He had felt the same just some hours ago, wanting to protect, even though the situation was spiritual.
He got to his feet and the first ounce of pain shot though him, he gave her a hug which was not awkward. "I am alright, I just need some space. Okay, I am one dial away if you need anything, I just-" She nodded and placed a gentle kiss at the top of his nose.
"At least let me wrap that up, you know how your mother gets seeing her last child injured." He nodded and sat down by the last step. She ran inside looking for the first aid kit.
He looked at his leg, he doubted that it had been fractured but only bruised, probably with some swelling and redness. And a broken bone? No, he didn't think so.
He felt the hem of his trouser leg being tagged he pulled it up, but it wasn't his jean, it was his leg. Long blond hair that was smeared in black gripped him tightly and it went under the porch. He felt the tug again and he stood up, the force of him standing cut the strands of hair. He bent down to examine them, and they turned into an army of termites, all dark black in colour, and they came for him.
"Ainsley?" He fell back on his bottom and looked up at the woman and her motherly care. "Let me get it dressed before it gets worse." He nodded and sat back down on the poach, all the while thinking of the insects that were about to attack him.
Clara.
Clara watched Ainsley drive off, she had never seen him as stressed as he was, even when he was struggling with his papers and college applications, he had his calm that she secretly admired. She picked up the used cotton and the kit and made her way indoors.
"James?" She called, she made her way to the bathroom and got the laundry basket. "James?" She called again, but he didn't answer. "James?"
She opened his bedroom door and found him in bed sleeping. He looked very peaceful, deciding against disturbing him, she picked up his laundry and walked out. She made a mental note to stop by Anna's room and get her laundry to- but there was nothing there. Her bed was perfectly made which meant she was out. She sent her a quick text asking if she was okay, and Anna replied back with she was fine and would be home soon.
The large mirror caught her attention and she swallowed. Her mind was not going to wonder to that side of mysterious, so she closed the door and leaned on it. There came a fallen sound on the other end, and she opened the door again, she saw nothing.
The hairs on her neck stood on edge as she felt someone pass by her. She closed the door again and looked at the mirror that was by the step.
"This is going to be a long day."
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