Chapter 3

                                    

                                          
After the movie, I dropped my impromptu movie-partner at his gate, and it was only then that I realised that I hadn't asked his name. Strangely enough, I didn't panic; I knew somehow that we'd meet again.
                          
That night my restless feet carried me to the park once more, partly craving the different kind of solitude it brought me, partly curious as to whether I would see him again.
                          
When my eyes spotted him at the same spot he was the previous night, I wondered if he'd been around all along, and I just hadn't looked closely enough. This time, however, I crossed the distance and positioned myself next to him.
                          
"Why do I have a feeling this meeting wasn't as coincidental as its predecessors?" He asked, giving me a knowing smile.
                          
"Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't stalking you." I retorted, then briefly panicked that I'd come off as harsh. I wondered where this abrasiveness was suddenly coming from.
                          
"The thought hadn't crossed my mind." He simply said, still smiling.
                          
"I didn't get your name, earlier." I muttered.
                          
"I'm Daniel. You?" 
                          
"Amina." 
                          
"It's nice to see you again."
                          
"Likewise."
                          
We sat in silence, a bit awkward but not so much that it was uncomfortable. I worried that I was intruding on his quiet time, but seeing as he wasn't necessarily being unfriendly, I chalked it up to my own paranoia.
                          
As though on cue, a ghostly figure appeared on the other side of the park, where I'd sat the first, sending a tsunami of fear coursing through my veins. My chest tightened and tears filled my eyes, my blood pounding in my ears and I trembled.
                          
It's not real, it's not real, I chanted in my head, feeling as though my chest would explode as the figure floated closer towards me, threatening to envelope me in its realness.
                          
A clammy palm rested on my hand and my head whipped sideways in shock, I realised I had forgotten Daniel's presence. I was not alone.
                          
I kept my eyes fixated on the faint outline of his face, trying to recall the details I had seen earlier in the day. Gradually, my step father's ghostly figure moved backwards, across the fountain, out of the park, until he faded away as rapidly as he appeared.
                          
--
                          
I crept up the stairs to my house silently, saying a prayer that my mother hadn't woken up. The sun seemed to be peeking out from underneath the clouds, I'd spend a considerably longer time at the park that night, getting to know Daniel better. Even though there were long stretches of silence, they gradually lost their awkwardness, and by the time we both made our separate ways back to our homes, we were wordlessly comfortable.
                          
Back in my bed, I contemplated what I'd do for the day, wondering if I'd keep wandering aimlessly each day like I was doing. It seemed university was off the table, I couldn't even stomach dealing with such a crowd in my current state, sure that each face would morph into my step father's till I suffocated and gave up.
                          
That night wasn't the first time I hallucinated. They always came at night, and sometimes they took on different forms. I would either see him floating towards me like he used to, or the irrational sense of someone pressing down on me would overcome me and I'd have difficulty breathing.
                          
These experiences were so complex. I had an idea of what could trigger them, but I didn't know how to stop them, and they were getting increasingly frequent, I knew I'd start seeing him during the day soon.
                          
I couldn't help but wonder if my step father's absence had made things worse. Before my mother found out, I'd been scheduled to write JAMB again in three months, being reminded of it often and of how I needed to study more so I could gain admission. Now, she was completely silent. I didn't know what I was doing with my life, and j didn't know what I would be doing in the near future.