Something good.

Something good.

Something wrong.

Something terrible.

Something...something.

"Aahhhh, Ahhh, Arrggh, let go of me. Nand, Nanda, wake up. Please don't do this to me, Nanda. Let go of me," Thulile fought with all her might. It was a nightmare; she wanted to wake up. Why didn't someone wake her from this hell?

"NANDA, NANI, SISTA, SISTA."

If someone had told Thulile this would happen, she would have never read Nandi's coffee.

The most beautiful stars are shooting stars. Who said that shit?

"NANDA," Thulile threw herself on the casquet. "Take me with you, Nana, take me; oh, Nandidiya, take me."

Through the struggle and the pain, they were together. Nandi was her rock. Thulile held on to life because her best friend was there.

How could God do this to her?

Wasn't the trials she lived enough? It seemed not.

Thulile didn't see anything coming. Too focused on her business venture with Dalai, the friend failed to see Nandi's issues. Nandi was a rising star with fans but also enemies. Many dissociated the two, but sometimes, a person could be both.

The news scrolled all day on the news forecast ticker: An influencer found dead in her apartment. Some spoke of burglary, but the truth was something none dared speak of.

According to the police, someone waited for Nandi to come home. The killer raped and stabbed her fifteen times. Nothing in Nandi's apartment had moved or disappeared. The police concluded it was a crime of passion.

Thulile didn't believe it, but she could not exclude the theory. It seemed plausible.

Like many others, Thulile found herself in the police's interrogation room. She told them about the last time they met and about the disturbing messages Nandi got. Thulile felt guilty; perhaps Nandi's killer was the person sending her messages. Why didn't she pay more attention? WHY?

"NANDA," Thulile screamed at the top of her lungs while stamping her feet. She, who usually remained silent on such occasions, cried more than Nandi's relatives.

"Thulile, stop it; you'll hurt yourself."

"Let go, Sus, let go of me ㅡ."

It was the last words Thulile pronounced the next moment she opened her eyes. She was in the hospital.

The face that greeted her wasn't the one she expected.

"Gisele."

"Thank goodness, you gave everyone a terrible fright."

"Nandi. Where?" Thulile tried to sit up.

"It's over, Thulile; they buried your friend yesterday. You were in such a state, and we couldn't give you sedatives. Your gran is here, too. She isn't well at all. Her diagnosis isn't good, Thulile. Do you understand what it means?"

The shock of Nandi's death affected everyone, and Thulile's Gran could not support seeing her granddaughter in such a state. Thulile's gran tried to cover her weakness for her sake but could no longer stall what was imminent.

Thulile's eyes scanned the room, "where's Femi?"

"Next to you."

Thulile looked to the side of the bed; Femi slept on a foldout sofa. She laid back down and tried to recollect her thoughts.

"I didn't know what to think when I got your summary," Gisele began.

"What about it?"

"You'reㅡ."

"Thulile," Femi exclaimed within a yawn while wiping his sleepy eyes.

"Femi."

The boy got up. "Sorry, I fell asleep."

"It's okay. What were you saying, Gisele?" Thulile said and coughed.

"Femi, can you get your sister some water?"

The boy nodded and left the room.

"I was saying we have your summary, and I have to say you are full of surprises, Thulile. I thought we saw the end of you, but it seems you excel in haunting."

Thulile frowned. "What are you talking about, Gisele?"

"Are you still seeing Elije?"

Thulile widened her eyes. Where did Elije come into play in her grief?

"No, God forbid," Thulile replied, wishing she could touch wood.

"Then who is the father?" Gisele asked in the iciest tone in stock.

"The father of what? What on earth are you talking about?" Thulile said, throwing off her covers and pulling the perfusion stand.

"Where are you going? I haven't finished with you," Gisele yelled.

"I'm going to see my Gran; what else?" Thulile replied, getting up only to have Gisele block her.

"What are you doing?"

Gisele grasped her shoulders, "How long have you been hiding it?"

"Gisele, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I swear if it's Elije's."

"It's not Elije's. The baby is mine," said a voice from behind Gisele."

Thulile gasped, not because of who had pronounced the statement but because of what he had said.

"Baby, who's having a baby?" Thulile asked, taking a few steps back and crumbling at her bed's foot. It was too much. The information rushed from one end of her blood vessels to another. The argument that broke out was a blur for Thulile, who only caught a few sentences here and there.

"You'd do anything for your friend, wouldn't you?"

"Gisele, it's not Elije's."

"But it isn't yours, admit it, Julian. Your parents would disown you if you did something like that," Gisele spat.

"I told you, I'm the father."

What they said didn't matter; all Thulile felt was the odd and shifting sensation in her stomach.

Blackout.

The sun shone when Thulile woke. What kind of nightmare did she dream? One's mind was something terrible when it wanted.

She looked around the room. What captured her attention was the bottle of water on the nightstand and Julian sleeping like a baby. Both elements brought her back to an unwanted reality.

Thulile tried not to make a sound. She climbed out of bed, dragged the perfusion, and left the room.

Julian kept his eyes shut, guessing he wasn't the first person Thulile wished to speak to. Julian waited for her to leave to sit up.

Thulile headed to the nurse's desk. "Excuse me; my gran was hospitalized with me. Can you please tell me which room she is in?"

"Can I have a name?"

Thulile told the nurse.

"She is in palliative care. It's in wing H."

Thulile gripped her perfusion, thanked the nurse, and began the Journey to join the ward.

Why?

What had she done to the universe to deserve such backlash? Stories of death, illness, and Ill fate were familiar where she came from. Thulile was the first to gasp and release an Aish for one's suffering tale.

Everything Thulile lived seemed like a novella. No, a Greek tragedy that saw the main protagonists disappear act after act.

Femi's head rested on their gran's bed; the boy was exhausted from navigating from his sisters to his gran's room.

Tears rolled down as Thulile observed her grandmother. The elderly lady was unrecognizable, with all the tubes coming out everywhere like branches.

"Gogo."

"Thuㅡ."

"Gogo, why?"

Her granny gestured to grasp Thulile's hand, "I'm sorry, Thu."

"No, Gogo," Thulile shook her head to refuse, "don't say that. It's not your fault. I took too long. I took too long to take care of you." Thulile sobbed and blamed herself. She should have made money faster and gotten her Gran proper care. If only she hadn't spent all this time with Lars.

"You have done enough," gran said between gasps. "Now, you must live for yourself.'

"I can't, Gogo, not without you."

"Yes, you can, you must." Her gran empathized. "Live for yourself. You must be selfish. Femi has a bright future and will trace it for himself."

The boy woke up to listen to his grandmother's words and revelation to his sister.

"Think of you and your child."

"Gogo you-."

"I knew and know there are no coincidences in this world. Nothing happens without reason. You've paid Thulile. You don't need to worry anymore. Everything will work out, everything will."

It appeared her grandma had waited to see her face one last time to deliver her words.

Thulile's and Femi's cries echoed through all the corridors. Death appreciated her doorstep, everyone left, and only Thulile escaped every time as if she had a greater purpose than to follow her loved ones.

Why did she always have to end up abandoned?

Why?

A funeral a week keeps happiness at bay became Thulile's prescription.

Nothing made sense; she was alive yet so empty. The woman no longer had the will. Thulile wished to end it all; she wanted the pain to stop. Only death could bring her peace; it was the only solution. Her gran told her to think about herself. Life was impossible without the two most important women. Yes, all she had to do was end her life to be with them. The thought lingered and haunted her.

"Don't cry, Thulile. I'm here. I won't leave you, I promise." Julian held her, but no words could retrieve her from the abyss where she had sunk.

Her gran wouldn't have had a funeral if Julian hadn't been there to help.

Death looked so sweet when Thulile stared at her smiling gran's face. The older woman seemed at peace and happy. Death reaped everyone, and life stole everything that was left. Femi, Palesa, Sus, and Mabel. There weren't enough reasons. Thulile fell in despair like she never knew. Her brother's past aggressions were nothing compared to the pain caused by loss. Hence, Thulile planned to join her loved ones. All she had to do was kill herself, but every time she resolved to do so, it shifted and sent an electrifying sensation through the umbilical cord to her belly button. It was as though the fetus she carried wished to remind her she still had a purpose.

"Thulile, you can't carry on like this. You need to eat."

"Julian, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Why are you doing this? In which world do you think I'll turn to you? I can't give you what you want."

"Why do you imagine it's about giving and taking? Call me stupid, but all I want right now is for you to live," Julian replied.

"Why?"

"You don't want to hear what I have to say. Let me take care of you until then."