“Where are you coming from?”
Mum’s high pitched voice is the first thing I hear that day. From where I am at the door, I look up at her trying to understand what she is saying.
“Kamsi, are you not the one I'm talking to? Where are you coming from looking so dirty and tattered?” Mum asks again.
This time, I hear every word she says but I can't make sense of it. Maybe it's because I can't fathom why I am standing at the front door at dawn. From where I stand, I can see that the sun hasn't risen yet, there is only a slight brightness emerging from the darkness of the night. The last thing I recall is drunkenly sleeping off in my bed the night before. I'd had a rough day starting from my girlfriend Sarah’s breaking up with me to losing my job at the construction site because of a brawl I had with one of the other workers.
My gaze goes down to my clothes, there are dirt stains all over them.
Mum shakes her head in tiredness. “I don't have the time for this. You reek of alcohol, go and have your bath.”
She says and turns to continue her journey to the kitchen for her customary preparation of breakfast and lunch for my younger siblings.
As I scoop water from the bucket with the bailer and pour it on my body, I try to make sense of the whole scenario all to no avail.
I jump into bed immediately after my shower.
“Omo, Maybe I was wrong about going to bed last night and instead, I had fallen into the gutter in my drunken state.” That is my conclusion as I close my eyes to sleep.
A ringing sound shoots through my head, making me bend over in pain. From where I stand, bent over, I can see mum’s leg. She's saying something but none of it is making sense to me.
“Kamsi, are you not the one I'm talking to? Where are you coming from looking so dirty and tattered?”
The ringing sound stops, and this time, I can hear every word she is saying. It sounds familiar. Like I've heard it before. I stand up straight and look around. My eyes catch the streak of dawn coming in from the sitting room windows. Mum has the same tired look on her face I'd seen some minutes ago.
What on earth is going on?! I scream in my head.
“I don't have the time for this. You reek of alcohol, go and have your bath.” Mum says, shaking her head in silent resignation.
This time, I stagger backwards, out the front door where I am standing. The ringing sound hits me again and I see something, hear something. Piled up dirt and the sound of metal scraping on stone.
It comes as a flash, like a memory wishing to be remembered but not giving you enough of it to help you remember.
What on earth is going on? I ask myself again. By now, mum has gone into the kitchen to start preparing breakfast and lunch for my siblings. I try to collect myself as I close the front door and saunter into my room in search of answers.
What was that image I saw? I ask myself as I scrub my body a little too hard, as though trying to wash off whatever this is.
I've seen things like this in movies so I immediately understand that if I've not gone crazy, this could be a time loop. But why? I wonder.
And if it is, how can I get out of it?
I try so hard to trace my movement the night before. I recall walking into Luke's bar at 7 pm, but that's where my recollection ends.
I pick up my phone and go through my calls and WhatsApp messages in search of a clue.
10:58 pm.
I had called Sarah.
10:59 pm.
I'd texted her to meet me at Luke's bar.
Did we meet? Did she come?
I feel another ringing sound go through my head. This time, it is more shrill than before. With it is a flash of Sarah's face looking terrified as a knife suddenly lodges itself in her neck and bl00d starts spurting out.
I hear a scream. Seconds later, I realize it isn't hers. It's mine. I'm screaming so loud as my legs give way and I fall to the floor.
Who… who on earth killëd Sarah?
Why… why… why will someone k!ll Sarah?
Another image flashes through my mind. This time, it doesn't come with the ringing sound. It's the pile of dirt again and I'm standing in front of it holding a shovel and digging through the dirt.
A few feet away, I see Sarah’s limp form lying on the ground.
And that moment, I remember.
I remember how sexy she'd looked last night in that bodycon dress even as she lay lifeless on the ground from the knife injury I'd inflicted on her neck.
She'd looked even sexier when she'd looked at me in fear as I stabbed her in the neck.
My hands begin to shake. I drag myself up from the ground and stagger to the half broken mirror in my room. I look into it at myself—really look.
I don't recognize the face I see.
This face is rough, ragged. Its eyes are wild, with a glint I can't quite place.
The face of a murderer.
Where is the face I'm familiar with?
Where have I gone?
The ringing begins again. This time, it digs deep into my skull.
And then…
“Kamsi, are you not the one I'm talking to? Where are you coming from looking so dirty and tattered?”
Not again.
Please…
Not again.