Under the moon

CHAPTER THREE 🌙

I decided to skip the bus going home again, so as to buy time. I didn't want to be there, when Jordan starts his drama, only thinking of it was infuriating. I kicked the pebbles on the floor as i walked home slowly. I thought of possible ways of Jordan apologising.

"Isabel honey,i am so sorry for not answering your calls. I was about heading home, when i was attacked by my bussiness enemies. They took me in, as well as my phone for three days. Whatever Amira told you was a lie.You know how she comes up with stuff when she's wrong."

He will say, shining his white teeth like toothpaste ambassador, and blinking his green eyes to get a ticket out of the situation.

I know my mother. she might be foolish, and turn a blind eye, but one thing she's not is stupid. He's always gotten away with things, but enough is enough. I could remember vividly, when me and Isabel decided to pay him a surprise visit at work, after leaving in the morning and when we arrived, we were not allowed to see him. Later, he gave unjustifiable excuses which was taken by my mother. I pushed those thoughts out of my head, as i got to old man Harold house. I walked up to him and greeted him.

"Evening Harold!" I said as i climbed his porch. He was still sitting in his recliner chair, but this time with his pipe, watching nature.

"Oh my. Amira! is that you?" He said, blowing the smoke from this out. what's up with old people and asking questions. who else would it be for crying out loud.

"Yes Harold. Can i seat? " I asked, gesturing to the worn out wooden floor.

"Of course, but to what do i owe this visit?" He asked.

"You know, smokers are liable to die young." I said, fiddling with my pigtails, which i noticed i usually do when am nervous. He began to make some muffled noise, which i think was laughter.

"See, you can't even laugh properly. " I said, pointing to his pipes.

"Amira, you are too smart for a thirteen year old girl..." He said, tossing his pipes aside.

"I get that a lot." I replied, throwing the pebbles i picked up on my way here.

"But not too smart for an old man, who has lived ninety-six years of his life on earth . I asked you to what do i owe this visit and you went into my smoking habit.Tsk tsk, you are too wise for your age." He continued. "So, will you tell me the reason for you stopping by?" He said, looking at me.

"Oh!" I said, fiddling with the ends of my skirt.

"You see, i caught my dad cheating on my mom." I said, narrating the ordeal to him, like a thirteen year old girl, without any filter. After i finished, and he didn't say i word, i looked at him, and saw that his head was dropped low. "I have just been talking to myself." I said, shaking my head.

"No you weren't, i heard every single word you said." He spoke. Words cannot described how shocked i was.

"You startled me Harold." I said, placing my hands on my chest. he began to laugh, like laugh really hard, to the extent that his smoke-stained teeth showed.

"I was only thinking." He continued. "Everything is going to be fine. There's nothing new under the sun. every event that happens, has happened before, it's just the timing that makes it look different, and there are people who have scaled through." He said, looking anywhere but me.

"Harold, i think you forgot the part where he said he will ruin me, to the extent i won't be able to talk." I said in disbelieve.

"If gold doesn't pass through pressure, it's useless." He said, waving at a passer-by, who greeted him.

"But we are humans, when we pass through pressure or fire, we get scarred for life. " I replied.

"It all depends on your perspective Amira." He said.

"Thanks Mr Harold, it was nice speaking with you." I said, standing up from the wooden floor, dusting my behind . I was about to climb down from his porch, when he grabbed my hand, strangely. His grip was too strong for an old man.

He looked directly at me, his eyes losing its colour as though possessed.

"Beautiful things as well as ugly things happens under the moon."

He repeated it twice, and let go of my hand, regaining his colour back.

"Harold, are you okay?" I asked, scared and concerned.

"Oh my, don't worry about me, it just happens sometimes , i don't know what i even said, but don't forget what it said." He replied, moving back and forth in his chair.

"O-Okay." I answered, stammering. I waved him goodbye and quickly ran home.

I opened the door, to a very quiet house.

"Mom!" I called, but the only reply i got was my voice echoing. She wouldn't leave the door opened, except if it was a life and death situation. Who could be dying now. I was surprised Jordan had not gotten home. I tossed by bag on the couch, and ran upstairs.

"Mom! Come on , no time for pranks, besides it's not April!" I called out, but there was no response. I opened her room door and saw clothes scattered on the floor, with streaks of blood, like there was a struggle. It was as though who ever did this was expecting me to find out, because the blood trailed down to the living room, down to the dining.

"Why did it stop." I said to myself, looking for the traces of blood on the dinning floor. I looked around for a while, when my eyes caught a paper, pasted on the fridge, with blood smeared all over it .

Hello Amira. Miss me. Anyways, i got Isabel with me, am trying to apologise or should i say persuade her not to get a divorce.

"What ass hole." I said to myself.

what can i say, am just doing it for politics, she knows how important this is for me , so she accepted. You too should act wise and join the boat. Keep your big mouth to yourself, and don't come looking for her. There will be grave consequences.

-JORDAN/DAD.

"Wow, what a way of persuasion. You really caught me off guard Jordan. You have gone too far , too far, but Mr Karma is knocking at the door, looking for a perfect opportunity to strike." I said to to the paper , squeezing it, as though it was Jordan, and then, i tossed it in the bin.

I went upstairs, and had my shower, praying nothing happens to my mother. I was about to put on my pyjamas, when i heard a heavy thud at the door. Fear gripped me. I walked slowly, downstairs trying not to make a noise, and carefully picked up a knife and twisted the knob of the door. one, two, three. I opened the door, ready to strike, but shouted.

"JESUS!!! "