Chapter Two

Geneva woke up from sleep by nine o'clock in the morning and distraughtly went to the bathroom.

She squeezed out some paste unto her toothbrush, brushed and spat into the toilet sink while closely watching herself in front of the mirror.

Why am I particularly robust today? Have I started increasing overnight again?

She gasped in horror as she looked at herself. She was the same her– of course. Just that her weight gain never ceased to put her in anguish.

The top she was wearing was one she bought mere four years ago but now it looked like a crop top. Who would look at it now and not think that it was once her size seven years ago.

She brushed her teeth in dismay. Little wonder Sharon sometimes teased her as a 'little chubby lady'. She hated that.

Geneva was pulled out of her anguish by the cold air that seemed like it was breathed against her exposed nape.

Instantly, she clasped her free palm on it. Presence. She abruptly felt a strong presence behind her. She breathed in slowly and closed her eyes.

Clutching her toothbrush as she would a dagger; 1, 2, she turned with full force.

No one was behind her.

It was just the summer breeze gently wafting through the curtains of the window. "Summer breeze can sometimes be allowed to feel icy, evil cold, right? Haha." She chuckled, "I must've been so tired out yesterday."

Whether she was suddenly talking out loud to herself because of a sense of fear or because she felt the lose of company, she didn't know.

To feel safer, she started humming songs, poems, advertising jingles, anything to bring back her mind. What was she doing scaring herself? Oh, Geneva.

She ate breakfast outside. How she hungrily gobbled down the food wasn't to be blamed on her. She had missed dinner last night, sleeping like a log.

She bought groceries, often inviting her GPS; life was cruel. Since she quite enjoyed cooking the meals she ate herself, she bought a lot. This was something she'd gotten from her mother.

She returned and made lunch since it was already 1:45pm. After eating, she decided to read a book. Whenever she had the time, she would pay attention to her school books.

It was already 7:00pm when her phone rang, waking her.

"Geneva, sweetie," came a pampering voice, "are you already in Canada?"

"Yes, mum." She rolled her eyes at her mother's tone.

"Have you eaten– eh? Since when did you reach? You didn't call." The accusation was clear in her mother's voice.

Geneva would never admit that she forgot to do so while basking in the new feeling of equal to no watchdog behind her all the time.

"Your dad said to send his kisses. He's busy on a business call right now."

"Okay mum."

"Geneva, always remember, our arms are always open to you for whenever you decide to return back home. We would accept the whatever new you that we see". *Sob* *Sob*.

"My darling innocent baby, how would you survive?. " *Sob*

Geneva knew her mother was faking her cries. What was with this speech anyway? Treating her like a prodigal son!

"Ri... Rita, hold yourself together," Geneva rolled her eyes again. Her father, Kalu James, had joined the dramatic scene.

"Hold yourself," *Sob* *Sob* "For the sake of our dearest child." *Sob*

Her father was totally over doing it now but he didn't care. The pain of waking up one day and realizing that his dearest only child had come of age and sought independence was real.

"She'll return to us someday," James comforted Rita. " I just know it, deep in my heart."

Geneva didn't know how her macho dad could effortlessly do these type of things. Sometimes she wondered if he just enjoyed living for the drama.

She could hear the couple say things like, "wipe your tears, she may sense it and become depressed", "come dear, blow your nose, your voice will expose us."

This was totally unnecessary!

She said a quick bye and immediately cut the line and was about to turn when she felt odd again. This time it was real. Ice cold nails grazed her neck.

Instinctively, she turned, and she saw something.

"Aaaahhh!" Her lungs swarm up before being pushed down by her oesophagus, "who are you? What is your purpose?"

The lights in each room switched off on their own after those words flew from her mouth, one after another.

"Aaahh!"

Her hands and feet were useless jellies. It was as if she was playing a circus game of 'juggling the knives' with her phone.

Finally holding it firmly, she switched on the phone's flashlight as well as turned on the switch nearest to her, walking very slowly on uncooperative limbs.

Her heart was pounding erratically.

Riiiiiiiing

"AAAHH!"

It was Sharon.

"Sharon," she barked into the phone the moment she picked the call, "I... I... I..."

"What joke are you playing?"

Geneva found her voice. "What joke? I might be having hallucinations, dreams, nightmares, whatever. I think, I think I'm seeing things." She was genuinely at the point of tears.

"Easy darling––"

"No! I might have seen," Geneva paused, "a, a, a ghost?" She completed in a whisper, looking around nervously.

The only reason she was still staying in that house was because whatever she thought she had seen had appeared and gone so fast that she began to wonder if she had really seen anything at all.

Was her mind playing with her?

She stupidly did not even remember the switching of lights thing. Even if she did, she'd blame it on the wind.

"Ghost?" Sharon was becoming concerned, "I thought you don't believe in such things?"

"Really? Oh, em." Geneva cleared her throat and spoke confidently, "that's true, I am not scared by flimsy things such as ghooosts!"

The last word Sharon heard was the word 'ghosts' being screamed into her eardrums before she heard nothing else.

The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected.