Blood Diary

Shadows and more Shadows

The morning bell echoed through St. Michael’s College like a summons. Students flooded the hallway, their laughter and chatter bouncing off the cream-painted walls. I moved with the tide, clutching my books, my mind still replaying last night’s strange dream — that same haunting image of red eyes staring back at me.

It wasn’t just a dream. It felt… like a memory.

I reached my seat at the far corner of JS3B. The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and old wood. Sunlight streamed in through the open windows, casting sharp bars of gold across the desks. I sat down, forcing myself to act normal, but my fingers wouldn’t stop tapping against my notebook.

Oluchi, my elder sister, passed by in the hallway and waved before disappearing toward her own class. That brief smile felt like the only piece of normality in my day.

Our English teacher, Mr. Okafor, strode in with his usual energy. His voice boomed as he began the lesson, but I barely heard a word. My mind kept drifting to that feeling I’d had in the mirror last night — a pulse of power, something raw and unfamiliar, curling just beneath my skin.

Halfway through the period, my pen slipped from my hand. As I bent to pick it up, a sudden chill swept over me. The sunlight on my desk dimmed, as if a shadow had crossed the window. Slowly, I lifted my eyes.

In the far corner of the classroom, near the supply cupboard, someone was standing.

Or rather… something.

It wasn’t one of my classmates. This figure was taller, thinner, draped in a darkness that seemed to move like smoke. Its face was hidden, but I could feel its gaze locked on me. My heartbeat slammed in my ears.

I blinked — and it was gone.

“David! Read the next paragraph,” Mr. Okafor barked.

The class laughed softly, snapping me back into the present. My cheeks burned. I stumbled through the words in my textbook, my voice shaking. The moment class ended, I shoved my books into my bag and hurried outside.

The corridor felt too bright after the gloom of that vision.

I wasn’t imagining it.

This was the second time in as many days that something unexplainable had happened. First the mirror… now this shadow. And each time, I felt the same thing: that cold, prickling awareness in my spine.

At break time, I found Chuka, my closest friend, sitting under the almond tree behind the science block. He was eating puff-puff from a greasy paper bag.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” he said, squinting at me.

“Maybe I did,” I muttered.

He laughed, but when I didn’t join in, his smile faded. “You’re serious?”

I told him — carefully — about the shadow in class. I left out the part about my eyes in the mirror. I wasn’t ready to share everything.

Chuka leaned back, chewing slowly. “Hmm. Could be your mind playing tricks. My cousin swears he once saw a man vanish into thin air after midnight, but…”

“This wasn’t a trick,” I cut in. “It was real. And it was watching me.”

The wind rustled the almond leaves, scattering tiny yellow flowers onto the ground. Chuka studied me for a long moment. “Then maybe you should talk to someone. Like your dad. Or… I dunno, a priest.”

I shook my head. My father would send me for a full medical check-up. A priest might start praying over me in front of the whole congregation. No — this was something I had to figure out myself.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Each time I caught movement from the corner of my eye, my pulse jumped. But every time I turned to look, there was nothing there.

When the closing bell rang, I gathered my things and walked home. The late afternoon sun bathed the streets of Enugu in gold, but the beauty of it barely touched me. I kept glancing over my shoulder, certain that somewhere — just out of sight — the shadow was still following me.

---

That night, I sat at my desk doing homework. The house was unusually quiet; my sisters were at choir practice, my parents in the living room.

I glanced at my mirror.

At first, it reflected only my tired face. Then, as I watched, my eyes began to change — darkening, then glowing faintly crimson. My breath caught. The same pulse of raw energy surged through me, stronger now, almost intoxicating.

A whisper — low, curling, almost serpentine — slid into my mind:

“Soon.”

I spun around, but the room was empty. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

And then I knew — the shadow wasn’t just watching me.

It was waiting for me.