Age nineteen
Age nineteen
Author: Mela wrights
Chapter one
Author: Mela wrights
last update2022-12-10 00:55:08

I sat on one of the brocade-colored sofas, by my mother's side. My relationship with my mother was nothing to write home about. Even though  I looked just like my mother, our characters were quite opposite. I had her brown hair and her cute black eyes. I also inherited the brightly colored pink, and thin lips from her, her youthful and rosy cheek was also evident on my face. Some people suggested that if I got older, I would be the same height as she was. And definitely, as curvy as she was. In literal terms, I was a younger copy of my mother. The only thing I Inherited from my father was his temperament. 

I was as beautiful as my mother and as cool-headed as my father. My mother, unlike my father, who made a joke out of everything, got irritated even by what others thought was funny. She nagged at my father and despised spending time with him. If my father were home, I would be with him In the garden or his bedroom. But my father was out of town on an emergency business trip. And my only sibling, my younger brother, was at school. He wouldn't be home till 3 pm. I sighed. I made another attempt to start up a conversation with my mother.

"Mom, I remember that there were three other girls who lived with us when I was younger. They kept leaving one after the other, and they have never visited. The last one left uhm, I think about six years ago. Can you recall ?" I asked. I was proud of myself that I had succeeded in engaging her in a conversation.

She nodded.

"Who are they ?"

She sighed. "Kerah, they are your sisters."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Wow!" I exclaimed with disbelief and excitement. I readjusted on the sofa and leaned closer to her.

"You never told me I had sisters. Where are they now ?" I continued. "I don't even know their names, who knows, maybe they are married! Maybe I'm an aunt and you are a grandma." I giggled. "you look so old, I can spot gray hair."

"You must never talk about those girls," she responded coldly. The frown on her face was evident, and she rolled her eyes in disgust.

 I shrieked."But why?" She ignored me. Standing from the sofa, she strolled to her bedroom. leaving me to my thoughts.

That night, I had difficulties falling asleep. I kept plunging from one side of the bed to the other. I was angry with my parents, terrified of my mother, and disappointed in my father. "They are liars." I mused. "I have always known my mother to be bitter, easy to anger, and never willing to spend time with me. I was not surprised that she could keep something this big from me. But I expected better from Dad." I thought aloud.

When I eventually fell asleep, I was awakened by a tap on my arm. I shut my eyes open and tried turning on the lights, but the switch refused to work. I flicked the switch repeatedly to no avail. In the hush of the night, I could hear someone whistle. I also heard a strange voice weeping in my bedroom. Fear gripped me. "My mother is a witch, and she has come to haunt me." I was speaking to myself. I instantly regretted asking her that question earlier today.  "I am sorry mom, I will never talk about those girls again." the sounds continued. Left with nothing else to do, I  pulled my duvet over my face and hoped everything was going in my head. I silently prayed that it would turn out to be a nightmare or a result of the numerous fantasy contents that I had been consuming.

"Kerah!" 

A voice called out from the darkness. The voice was still, and calm, and had a certain kind of authority. It didn't sound like a human. I shivered in fear and wished that whatever it was, could not hear my heartbeat. Because at that point, my heart must have been beating over three hundred times per minute. The voice called out again.

"Kerah!"

"Yes, who is there ?" I asked, squeezing the life out of my teddy bear. My voice shook, but I tried my best to sound brave.

"Turn on the lights." The strange voice instructed.

I wondered why the strange being didn't know that the switch wasn't working. "Whatever this is, isn't so smart after all." I thought. Jerking my head out of my duvet, I flicked the switch, and the light instantly turned on. Evading the darkness, and making me slightly braver than I was.

I looked around my room, to see if I could spot who was speaking, but I didn't see anyone. Under my study table, on the ceiling, behind the door. I had scanned everywhere that was within my visual reach. I could still hear the voice, It continued."My name is Anabel, and I'm your oldest sister." I tried tracing where the voice came from, but it sounded like it was coming from everywhere. Although it was hard to believe, one piece of the puzzle fell into place. The voice provided answers to one of my questions.

"Are you dead ?" I asked, curiosity getting the better part of me.

"Yes! Kerah, I'm dead. Your two other sisters are equally dead, and if you aren't careful, you will be next." the strange voice possibly couldn't be telling me lies. It knew my name.

I sat up. Everything was happening so fast, and it was just like in a movie. I couldn't believe my ears. In less than twenty-four hours, I had learned that I was not an only daughter, neither was I the first child. I also learned that my three older sisters were dead. Right now, the ghost of one of my sisters was in my bedroom. And she was trying to say that I would die next. 

"What do you mean by that ?" I asked. Putting on every form of bravery that I had left in me.

"I wish I could respond, but I'm not permitted to help you." She sounded sad and helpless.

"So why are you here, if you can't help me?" I asked. Anger slowly replaced the fear.

She sighed. "I will give you a puzzle, and if you can solve it, you will know what's going on," Anabel said.

I wanted to ask her why she simply couldn't give me the information I needed, but I was still scared of her. I didn't want to upset her. "Who knew ghosts exist ?" I mumbled. She continued.

"Where young feet have never threaded upon, there lies the mystery to the freedom of young souls. Where unforgiveness ends, there true freedom begins. You have just three weeks to figure it out or fail like the rest of us. Don't get anyone involved in this, this is just you, fighting for your life."

"How do you expect me to figure this out, this is the most stupid riddle ever." I let out,  but no answer came. I heard a faint knock on the window, and a strange wind left my bedroom. I knew she was gone.

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