LockdownStories14

African Nightmare.
 

Part 1.1

I stood up and walked to my window, pulling the white curtains apart and basking in the hot sunlight. There was no breeze.
There never was- This was Zimbabwe afterall.
I pulled my window open and leaned out, scanning the savannah that stretched out to the horizon. I could see the tiny, wavy outline of an elephant herd. There were thirteen big silouhettes and three smaller ones playing at the front.
I, personally, would love to be an elephant. They were the mothers and fathers of the game-reserve. They were painted as big, clumsy lumps but they were far from it- they remembered so many things, looked after the calves as a family and were calm creatures.
I looked back up to the herd before turning and walking back to my bed, side-stepping my bag. I blinked and slowed, stopped halfway to my bed.
There had been twelve large silouhettes and four smaller ones. Where was the other, big elephant?
I stumbled back to the window, tripping over my school bag and narrowing my eyes.
I could see the herd, only... they were running away from something. My heart was in my throat as I saw a smaller silouhette being left behind.
Elephants never left calves behind. Ever.
"Papa!" I screamed, turning and bursting out of my room.
Elephants never left their calves behind, meaning that whetever the small silouhette behind them wasnt a calf.
"Papa! Poachers are chasing the elephants!" I yelled, jumping down the stairs two at a time and bursting into the living room.
Dad sat up from his place and threw his newspaper onto the floor, "What's happened?"
"I saw poachers chasing the elephants a-and I saw one elephant was gone-"
"Okay," he muttered, standing up and sliding his shoes on.
He shrugged his coat on and left, grabbing his keys for the Jeep.

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I sat at the kitchen table, my fingers drumming on the wood. I stood up and walked to the kitchen window, which looked over the front porch.
It was empty apart from the three chickens roaming around aimlessy. I looked up to the sky, where the sun painted the sky a mix of peach, red and purples.
What if the poachers had turned on dad and shot him? What if he'd crashed the Jeep, or what if the elephants had charged at him?
Mom walked into the kitchen and walked up behind me.
"Fria," She sighed, "Come sit and watch TV with me,"
"What about dad?"
"He's 46, honey, I'm sure he can handle some poachers," She chuckled, walking to the fridge and taking out an orange. I sighed and my shoulders sagged.
I guess she was right- he could look after himself.
He was my dad, afterall.
I followed her to the living-room and sat down, watching the TV with her. I relaxed but in the back of my mind I knew something had gone wrong.It never took him an hour to deal with some poachers.
I should have persisted, asked mom to call his cell.
But I didnt.
I was stupid. I was lazy, because whilst I watched the football my dad was lying in the savannah.
Dying.
He had been shot by poachers. He'd been shot in the chest, puncturing one of his lungs. He'd died a slow, painful death alone in the wilderness. The elephants he'd died trying to save had ran away, leaving him.
I hated elephants now.
And I hated myself more.
 

Lies.
 

I walked up the stairs, slowly, before opening my bedroom door.
I opened it and walked over to my bed, flopping down onto it. I undressed, reached underneath my pillow and took out my pyjamas.
I changed before sliding under my covers, untying my hair and looking at the ceiling.
I didnt believe what I'd just done. I'd sat watching TV for the rest of the day but I hadnt concentrated.
I'd thought of what I'd do, who I'd meet. Maybe some people would remember my mom, but I knew that was a little to much to wish for.
I closed my eyes and relaxed.
For the first time in my life I didnt have a nightmare. For the first time I had a dream.
I was sat with mom, we were smiling. Like we should have been doing so all my life.
If only she hadnt died, but if she hadnt died then I wouldnt be here.

I woke up to the sound of my phone's alarm and sat up, running my hand through my hair.
I turned my alarm off, walked over to my window and pulling the curtains apart. I felt my shoulders sag as I saw the melting snow.
Did I have to go to school?
I sighed, walked downstairs and into the living room. I turned the TV on and flicked to the news.
"The weather has brightened and snow has started to melt. All schools are open-"
I sucked on my teeth and turned the TV off, throwing the remote on the sofa. I then walked upstairs and into my bedroom.
I then walked into my en-suite and turned the shower on. I brushed my teeth as the water started to warm up.
I looked into the mirror and a faint smile filled my face. I swallowed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear and running my fingers through the tangles.
I then stepped into the shower, washed my hair and face before stepping out.
I walked into my bedroom and towards my wardrobe. I'd left some clothes to last a day.
I was going to go today afterschool. I'd come home, get the key from the parcel then get a taxi to the coach station.
I changed into some torn, skinny jeans, my black hoodie, some trainers and a black shirt. I also took a coat and umberella, putting them in my bag.
I had a slice of toast and a sip of tea before heading out to school.
I walked across the roads, kicking the dirty snow. Half of it had melted and the rest was a dirty colour.
I reached the school gates, ignored the stares I got from people, and headed inside.
I walked down the hallways to my locker, taking out my books and sliding the other ones in before walking to my classroom. I didnt talk and as everybody watched me my cheeks were burning red.
I sat down and looked around.
Everybody averted my stare. They all blamed me for Jason's suicide but they couldnt say it to my face. They were all cowards, even if they were right.
I took out my english book before taking out my notebook.
I flicked through my old ones but didnt really pay attention.
I started writing a note to dad incase he came home before I did.
'I've gone to a friend's house, sorry i didnt tell you but I felt lonely.
-Love, Anna'
I then looked up. The class hurried into their seats because the teacher was stood at the front of the classroom. They called out the register and I answered.
I couldnt focus on what the lesson was about. I was just thinking about what I was going to do afterschool.
I was effectively running away for a week.
I was going to meet people I didnt know,  I was going to do hings I'd never done before.
I was going to have a good time, and nobody here knew about it.
For a split second, I felt happy, but the looks I got from people around me killed that mood off.
I bet they were wondering why I, Annabella Smith, was smiling in class a month after her boyfriend comitted suicide.
I stared back at them and they looked back forward.
At one point they had to forget about that. It had been my fault but I hadnt given him the pills. I hadnt forced him to swallow them all. I hadnt forced him to kill himself.
But I hadnt noticed what he was about to do.
Nobody had.
For the first time I felt myself lighten up. I hadnt been the only one to be surprised by his suicide but I was the only one being blamed.

Lies.
 

I stopped reading. This was her fourth diary entry and she'd talked about Zak a lot.
I guess it was because they worked together and hated eachother.
I closed the book, looking up to the ceiling.
She had so many people who wanted to date her but she was true to dad. She'd rejected Josh Hunter atleast fourteen times and there were people from her past.
I picked the book up, walked to my study desk and slid it in the top drawer underneath my math homework. I then walked to my window and pushed it open, letting my arms hang out.
Tiny snowflakes were filling the air, and I could hear the distant sound of kids playing outside.
I was supposed to be outside, playing with them, but I was inside. Sitting here, reading my dead mom's diary.
I swallowed and walked out of my room, downstairs and into the living room.
I opened the laptop and opened Google.
I needed to do something, I needed to go out somewhere. Mom had been outgoing.
I remembered reading about how she'd visit a cabin lodge down by Lake Green. She'd loved it there, and that's where she'd met dad.
He'd been going to get inspiration for his story and she'd been out with her family. She'd always liked adventure and she and dad had become great friends. They started dating after that.
Dad moved to the city and they became serious.
I typed in Lake Green and scrolled through the results.
Maybe I could go there... dad wouldnt find out because he was on holiday.
Nobody would notice I was gone here, everybody ignored me in the city.
It was just a thought; I wanted to go and see what she saw with her eyes. I wanted to play in the Lake, like she had.
The thought grew on me, and as I booked a room in one of the cabins I felt my mind made up.
I chose the same cabin she'd stayed in, my stomach tightening as I entered the credit card details. It cost £20 for each night, I wanted to stay for as long as I could.
I payed £100 pounds for five nights and six days.
Dad would probably be gone for a week or two, I'd come home just before he did. His flights always arrived at around midnight.
I smiled, clicking onto some coach times.
I bought a ticket for a coach that went to the little city near the Lodge. I'd walk to the Lodge, get into my cabin and start seeing the things she saw.
I stood up, walking to dad's study where I'd started printing out the tickets. One going and one return.
I took them out then walked upstairs. The keys for the cabin would come tomorrow, and I had to be ready.
I felt fresh... Brand new.
I hadnt done anything in months, and now I was finally doing something exciting. I wasnt going to just sit at home, reading.
I was going out. I was going to do something!
I smiled as I opened my bedroom door, walked over to my bed and reached underneath it. I pulled out my suitcase, unzipped it then walked over to my wardrobe.
I pulled out shorts, jeans, converse and some shirts.
I stopped halfway. Lake Green... maybe these clothes weren the type you wore there.
But then again, I didnt have anything else.
I zipped my suitcase up then pulled it off the bed, pushing it underneath the bed.
My mind stopped as I walked back downstairs. I'd payed the money, the key was coming tomorrow and the coach company was expecting me.
I was glad I'd already done that, I now had a reason to keep on going.
I would have stopped by now, too scared to leave my house.

Lies.
 

I stood up, stretching, before walking back into dad's study.
I found the place I'd found the book and slid it in, looking for another one.
My fingers ran along the book-spines until I reached the end of the shelf. I didnt want to read anymore, I just wanted to chill. I sighed, bent down and started running my fingertips across the lower shelf of books. I didnt find anything. I then stopped at the end on one particular book.
It was thinner than most of dad's books and it looked old and worn. I pulled it out, biting my lip.
I didnt want it to fall apart or something, it looked old enough to just fall apart. I walked over to dad's desk and set it down, opening past the old, leather cover. I saw five words, a sentence, and my heart started throbbing hard in my ears.

'This belongs to Louisa Jenkins,'

I re-read it and then looked around. My mom was called Louisa Jenkins before she'd gotten married to dad. When she got married she was then called Louisa Smith.
I slowly flicked past the page; if this belonged to mom then... then...
Was this her diary?
I smiled at the thought, excitement filling the pit of my stomach.
If this was my mom's diary then I could read it. I could find out what she was like before she met dad. I could finally see how she thought of things and what advice she'd give if she hadnt passed away.
I flicked to the first page and started reading.

Monday 13th 1993.
I dont know why I'm writing in this, Lucas got this for me on my birthday.
I guess he wants to use it as a source for his stories or something. I dont think he's going to get anywhere with that whole writing stuff. I didnt see the point in it if all he writes about is love stories.
People only want to read about the economy nowadays and I doubt things are going to change in the future.
Well, today I went to work and they held me a party even though my birthday was on Saturday. They're all so nice though, apart from Zak. I dont know what his problem is- he just blanked me. On my birthday!
People say he likes me but I definitely dont like him. Especially when I have Lucas, who's so sweet, waiting for me at home. Did I tell you we moved in? Well, it happened a month ago and my mom and dad were not happy that I'd done what I did. They think that Lucas's good for nothing and that I should marry someone like Josh Hunter, who lives across the road. But he's boring. I want excitement, which isnt that good when I had this illness dragging me down.
I dont care though; a cold isnt going to kill me!
Well, I have to go and cook because Lucas is coming home from his office. He's renting out an old warehouse just out of town. He's started a new story, he wont tell me what it's about but all I know its called 'Lovers and Killers'.

I swallowed. She seemed so cheerful. So bright.
I guess that's why dad liked her.
I closed the book and walked upstairs, leaving the study door open. They were so in love, so cute together. Just like me and Jason.
I swallowed again as I opened my bedroom door.
I set the book on my bed before sitting down on the other side of the bed. I didnt want to think about Jason but as I started reading her next entry I felt my mind stray.
It was all my fault that he'd left.
He was a Christian, and comitting suicide was against one of their commandments. He'd still left me.
The sad thing was that I didnt know why he'd done it. We'd been so in love.
I sighed, closing the book and leaning back onto my headboard.
If I'd known why he'd done it then I would've been able to stop it. But I hadnt, and he'd left me.
It had all been my fault. I didnt even know my own boyfriend to see that he was about to kill himself.

Lies.
 

2
I sat up, running my hand through my hair.
I was still on the sofa but my head was pounding. I stretched and leaned over to the coffee table for the remote.
I turned the TV on. There was some news about schools being shut for the day though it didnt take a genius to come to that conclusion. I stood up, walked over to the french windows and pushed them open. A cold draft filled the room and I was blinded by the piles of crystal-like white snow.
I swallowed, closing the window but keeping the curtains open.
I then turned the TV off and headed upstairs to take a shower. I'd then chill out on my laptop and read some of dad's books.
That's what I did nowadays. Sit and read.
I opened my bedroom door, took some of my towels then walked into my en suite, studying myself in the mirror for a few seconds. My hair was tangled, I remembered trying to put it in a messy bun before I'd fallen asleep but it was obvious that had failed, my cheeks were patchy and red and my eyes were dull.
I remember the days when they'd been emerald green, now they seemed dead.
I cleared my throat, took off my clothes and stepped into the shower. I left it on cold for a few minutes, savouring the way goosebumps erupted on my arms.
I felt the ice-cold water run through my hair, slowly waking me up,and then I turned it onto hot. I washed my hair then got out, wrapping myself in the thick Egyptian towels.
I stood infront of my mirror again. it'd fogged up so I wiped the condensation away.
My hair was limp, hanging to my face, neck and shoulders. I tried to smile but my face wouldnt function.
Instead, I just picked up my toothbrush, squirted some toothpaste onto it then started brushing my teeth.
I didnt look in the mirror again.
I then walked back out into my bedroom, sitting on my bed. I blow-dried my hair then changed into some skinny jeans, a pair of converse, my leather jacket and a grey tank top.
I dont know why I dressed up. i guess I wanted to feel like I was going somewhere.
I then grabbed my laptop from my study desk and headed downstairs. I threw it onto the sofa then walked into dad's downstairs study.
I opened the door and stopped for a minute, taking in the thick silence and smell of old pages. I automatically smiled to myself; our house smelt of books and nothing else.
It was a comforting smell.
I remember when jason had left, I'd stayed in here and read. I didnt eat or talk, I just read.
I walked down the wall bookshelf, running the tip of my finger along the spines of books. i read their names out silently and stopped on my favourite one.
'Lovers and Killers'
Dad had written it when he'd met mom. It was a love story, so sweet and innocent.
I felt like I got to see what mom was like before she met dad. I felt like he'd described her in the book, she had long, wavy black hair, like mine, but she had sapphire blue eyes whilst I had green ones.
I pulled out the book and left the study, walking back into the living room and sitting down on the sofa.
I opened the first page of the book and started reading the description of mom; She had a long, pale face, sharp sapphire eyes that were framed by thick black eyelashes, red lips and the most beautiful smile.
I stopped reading and looked up to the fireplace; there was a picture of mom before she'd given birth to me. She did look like the description in the book, only she looked more beautiful.
She would have had a great personality to match.
I started reading again;
She had a weak immune system and when we found out she was pregnant everybody was happy but on edge. Having a baby strained the immune system and everybody wondered if she'd survive.
She didnt.
I sighed, re-reading the sentence. Everytime I read it my stomach tightened.
I kept on reading but my mind kept on straying. Mom lost too much blood when she gave birth to me.
She survived that but she got infected and died, slowly and painfully in hospital.
If you thought about it, I killed my own mother.