He is here again, just like every other night.
The man of my darkness… or should I call him my guarding angel? Or better still, my terror.
He has always appeared in my room at night, leaning against the wall as though he belongs there. I have never seen his face; the darkness refuses to give him up. I once tried to light the lamp, but it went out the very moment I touched it, as if the night itself obeyed him.
The only thing I know of him is his eyes. They are unlike anything I have ever seen.
And now, those red eyes bore into me as I sat up in bed, clutching the sheet tightly to my chest.
I had considered sleeping naked the other night, but the thought of him appearing stopped me. Still, I was not surprised to see him tonight. He never fails to come.
I once tried to ask what he wanted.
His answer was not something I was prepared to accept.
He had looked into my eyes that night and whispered, "You, Ade… my beloved."
Goosebumps rose across my skin, just like they do now.
He called me his beloved, even though I do not know who he was. His presence was not one I have ever encountered in my waking life, for if I had, I would have known. I am certain of it.
"Come here," my guarding angel whispered.
And just as if he had cast a spell upon me, I answered his summons.
I rose from the bed, letting the sheet fall from my body, and walked toward him. I wore my thin white nightgown… my favorite. I did not know why I had chosen it that night. Perhaps a part of me wanted him to see it… wanted him to whisper my name again.
I stopped a few steps away, my gaze locked on his eyes.
"Closer." he said without breaking his my gaze.
I moved until there was no space left between us.
He lifted his hand, brushing the side of my face, then slid his fingers beneath my chin, tilting my face upward. Before I could gather my thoughts, he dipped his head into the crook of my neck, and my toes curled on their own as my body ignited.
Before I could gather my thoughts, a sharp pain burn through my neck as I felt something pierced my skin, and a terrifying scream tore from my throat.
I jolted upright, my eyes flying open as panic flooded me. My heart thundered violently in my chest as I looked around the room.
My mother rushed in, nearly barging through the door. "Adeline?"
She hurried to my side, worry written all over her face. "Are you all right, my dear? Was it a nightmare?" she asked as she sat beside me, gently patting my hair.
I shook my head and forced a smile, even though my heart felt as though it had dropped into my stomach. "I am fine, Mama. It is nothing to ponder."
She gave me that look, the one she has given me since I was a child whenever she sensed a lie.
"You still won't tell me what you dreamt about?"
I shook my head firmly to make my point. She sighed, then laughed softly and tapped my back lightly, though her eyes still held unease.
"You should come out and have your breakfast. It is almost noon," Kaira said as she rose from the bed, her curls bouncing slightly with the movement.
I stared at her with quiet jealousy. My mother is a beauty. Though people often say I am more beautiful than she is, I have never believed it. To me, she is far more beautiful, perhaps because she looks far younger than her years.
People often mistake us for friends. And truthfully, we do not have the luxury of time to correct every single person, so we let them believe it.
She caught me staring and smiled, radiant as ever. "What?" she asked lightly. "Is my hair out of place?"
I shook my head, hugging my knees to my chest as a smile curved my lips. "No… you look ethereal."
She laughed then, and her eyes disappearing entirely, and I could not help but burst into laughter as well. She looked funny with her thin eyes.
"Thank you, my dear," Kaira said warmly. "But do you know who is more mesmerizing?"
I raised a brow, already knowing the answer.
"You," she said softly.
The smile that tugged at my lips was impossible to stop.
She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. "Get ready," she added, her voice a little louder as she reached the door. "Do not take too long, or your food will grow cold."
"Yes, Mama," I replied. She closed the door softly behind her.
I rose from the bed and made my way to the mirror. Taking up my brush, I began to run it gently through my hair. It was tangled at first, as it often was, for I shared the same stubborn red curls as my mother, but it softened the more I brushed.
I needed to go to the church later, to clean it as I always did. And as always, I would whisper the same silent prayer… that God might miraculously extend my life.
I had only one month left to live. My mother did not know. I did not wish to burden her with such knowledge. She had already endured too much since Papa died. Though I was still in her womb at the time, Aunty Audrey had told me of the horrors she survived. From that day onward, I treasured my mother above all else. I would do anything for her.
The old man had said I inherited the sickness from my father, the very illness that took his life.
Of all the things I could have received from him, fate chose to give me his disease.
The weight of bad luck that clung to me was not something I could explain in just a few words.
It had been with me all my life. I was still drowning in my thoughts when my eyes suddenly caught two red marks on my neck.
My breath hitched. I dropped the brush at once and hurriedly brushed my hair aside to get a clearer look. The moment I saw it properly, I froze… shock stealing the words from my mouth.
It was on the same spot. The very place the man of my darkness had bitten me in my dreams.
My eyes widened as my fingers trembled against my skin. I touched it lightly, and pain flared.
I sucked in a breath. How… how did this happen?
The mirror stared back at me in silence, offering no answers, only proof that what haunted my nights had found its way into my waking world.