Demons Gaped by Eyeballs and Emojis

June 27

7.45 am

I trudge towards the greenery and back to the spot, my eyeballs squinting over the clump. Performing eye exercises to save me from heftier glasses in the future sounded like a well-planned idea. My flip-flops help me yomp at the terrace floor as they cause a squeaky din. My eyes all narrowed while some iota of my brain wandered in the lobbies of wonder.

Seconds passed, minutes too, and I was wondering if The C Neighbours can see me do my healthy exercises.

The C Neighbours’ terrace faces ours. It had been three years and their terrace looks like a haunting place itself. Isn’t it magnificent how in three years I have only seen their garbs withering on their wooden deck or them trying to wither their garbs? Not any species of human. The C Neighbours have been a nosy one, who sometimes peek up from their terrace to ours, but not that often.

But think, if you can see a fourteen-year-old walking like an alien, squinting her eyes at green plants, while her slippers make a slapping sound, wouldn’t you be concerned.

My mind chortles mutter on its own (the side-effects of my lame jokes only take place in my developing brain).

After watching a horror film about a Mexican witch, the previous day, I reflect on how I was looking like one at that moment.

My mind clears the clutter and leaves the thoughts at an “either-or”.

Either The C Neighbours think that I am sleepwalking in sun like a twig or they think I have been possessed by a demon and they should move out before I scratch them out.

June 31

2.30 pm

Attending Certain Someone’s call with certainty felt like the right thing I did, after all now I have one more fable to impart.

As we go on discussing the zany memories of our horrific lives, Certain Someone, who has much more experience than me with imps (not that any of it is true), widens her eyes.

She takes me back to the astonishing reality as I get in the mood to listen to something which sparks jokes in my head. Her stretchy finger-tips touch one another, “So in old-time, there were no cars,”

Oh, I guess I didn’t know that.

“He was on a trip to the nearby villages.”

For your prominent info, He is being referred to someone who lands in Certain Someone's relation after twisting all kinds of grandmothers, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and every person you could think of.

Her eyes contained some gusto in them, “It was dark.”

Typical.

“He saw a little boy sobbing, standing in the street, alone. He thought to help the boy and quickly got him up on the horse and started-”

Marvellous.

First, they teach us not to talk to strangers and then they pull up a boy from a random street, lob him on the horse, and start riding. This felt like the stupidest thing one can do (AS AN ADULT), thus I had to put my question marks ahead, on the table, “Wait. Why did he just pick up the boy and started riding? That makes no sense.”

My innocent Certain Someone’s sister jumps in from the other block on the video call (that’s when I twigged that there’s one more person batting her eyes beside), “Arrey, he was crying na.”

Oh, Definitely that.

What a satisfying answer.

Certain Someone snubs her sister as she wanted to create some kind of unusual suspense. And before she could I already knew the idiotic climax. This took me back to when I was six years old, in a room with blue furniture, as she continued her story ahead.

Blue Furniture Bedroom, 2013

Somewhere in Afternoon

“And when he turned around, he saw the boy’s legs touching the ground. His legs were all stretchy and lengthy.”

I with my Two French Braids do a kiddush “Hawww.”

June 31

2.35 pm

As my mind brings me back to my mobile phone glued to my drawer’s handle, and two people gaping at me from the screen, I feel like the face-palm emoji.

As idiotic as this sounded to me now, Two French Braids had been bobbing around in her 1st grade. With her only two twigs, telling them how spooky a story about a boy who gets long-legged sitting on a horse was.

All my reflex actions could think of was slapping me hard on the face.

June 31

5 pm

My math teacher set me free from some serious Linear Equations.

I open my door and my eyes get no surprise. All my eyeballs which have been wandering around doing eye checkups from weird doctors for a whole week can see is Doyenne enjoying a girl screaming “DON’T TOUCH ME!” on the television.

I plonk on the grey couch for a few minutes in which the girl screeches all the way down a forest and gets possessed by a demon in a church. The disappointment slinks down my veins.

As I set two soft pups, Milo and Lily, in a peaceful space, and jump out of the room which was chilling over the air conditioner.

I come out as Doyenne is all fixed upon her corner and all that she is gawking at the screen is a girl who is spilling green slime on her bedroom wall and screaming.

Doyenne turns her head at me, gives no expression, “Go in your room.”

My mind said, “Glad I can.”

*Gratis Talk

The C Neighbour: Good Evening

Me: Good Evening

Fifteen seconds silence

The C Neighbour: So…….., how’s school going?

My chewed mind: HERE WE GO AGAIN.