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Me: Zuby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe this. I love you. I’ll forever love you. Please come back. Please, I won’t give you too much wahala again.

I had hit send and instantly, my phone buzzed, a message from him.

Zuby: I love you too baby. Hahahaha, like you knew you always gave me trouble.

Fear seeped my bones. It was in the middle of the night, and I lived alone. How could Zuby reply this message?

I managed to go to the bathroom and sprinkle water on my face to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, but the message was still there, with a smiling emoji.

Another message popped up:

Zuby: Baby

I felt strange metallic vibrations in my ear. Who could this be?

Me: Where are you?

Zuby: I’m with you.

I jerked, letting my phone slip from my hands and scanning my room with a speed faster than that of light. With me? Am I dead too? I held a pillow to my breast and curled my legs.

From the bed, my eyes met with my dressing mirror and I was taken aback by what I saw – another me with spiky hair. My heart went on a race and back.

Still looking in the mirror, I touched my hair and realized it’s all flared up, uncombed. I forgot I had been pulling it and crying like a child.

The mind game was driving me crazy. I began crying again.

The messages ‘Baby, baby, baby’ kept coming from Zuby. I smashed my phone on the wall. There was no harsh breeze but my curtains started to move, a continuous bang on the door followed, an eerie laughter filled my ears.

With my fingers blocking my ears, I went to meet the bang. The door was almost falling. I unbolted and Zuby was standing like a mummy.

I screamed. He extended his hand to me. I refused touching them. He took a step closer and I took two steps backwards.

“Baby, what are you doing?” he asked, raising his brows.

“You must be very stupid. So you’re not dead?”

“I’m dead baby,” he laughed. “I did have an accident today but it was my driver who died. I wanted to use it to make my own drama too.” He grinned.

“Zuby! This is too much! You almost killed me!”

He continued laughing when I forgot my fist in his face and fainted.

Go Back: Bizarre-1

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About Successpensit

This blog is managed by Oluamara Success Nwaeze. She is a law student at the University of Nigeria. Aside blogging, she ghostwrites, creates contents and edits manuscripts. Her happiness mostly comes from food.

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