Cover Photo: Ghost Like Me. by Budding Dirt

Ghost Like Me.

Ghost Like Me.

Drip. Drip. Drip. I could hear from far. The kitchen sink was an inch from my bedroom, just few metres from where my bed was, i walked in a sea of darkness before i could reached the kitchen sink. It was necessary. There was no way I would be able to get back to sleep with the sound of the sink dripping echoing through the house. The hard tiles of the kitchen was freezing on my bare feet. It took me back to my childhood days when I would run into the kitchen from the yard, no shoes on. I cranked the nobs of the sink off as hard as I could. It seems like the dripping stopped. Suddenly i heard something slowly moving within the room my body felt numb. I watched the kitchen door slowly beginning to close. The sound of the door slamming behind me made me jump. I screamed out and twisted around the v shaped corner. I saw the sliding of my door shaking back and forth just barely enough to notice. I froze. The room was entirely still…silent…until…the sound of soft crying started to leak out of the bedroom. “Who’s there?” I called out goosebumps pulling out of my skin with all the might. No answer . The movement stopped. The crying ceased. I tiptoed in the direction of the noise. I was just a few steps in when the bedroom door slammed shut, sealing me in the room. The only light in the room was gone. I was in a complete blackout. I screamed and started to pat my own skin, ready for something to grab me. I heard a movement coming towards me I collapsed to the ground and closed my eyes. My brain was numb. The movement stopped and their was silence. I went straight to the bathroom to collect myself, splash some cold water on my face, warm up and sober up from the fear. Just behind me their was a human figure, just enough out of the light that it took a second for me to recognize. I blinked hard at the image and It disappeared. Was it a blind vision? my brain fried from the fright and the frigid cold of my night on the floor? I reached for power switch . Immediately the lights started to flicker in the room. I kept my eyes on the doorway, but saw no sign of human,shadow or anything. There was nothing .. Just cold empty air of the room i stood frozen in the middle of the room for a good five minutes, it felt like frost was growing on my bare arms and legs were cold. My body ached as I slowly crept down the kitchen, even though I hadn’t hurt myself in many ways in the recent past. It felt as if my blood was bruised with terror . A loud ranting made me jump just as I conquered the final peep. I grabbed my chest and looked in the direction of the sound. I saw shadow of a huge human moving swiftly on the wall. The movement stopped shortly after I saw it. The room went quiet. Suddenly i saw version of myself except it looked like I had been run through a rotting sepia Instagram filter. It wasn’t quite a “zombie” version of myself, but it was close. It called Fred ! Fred ! With thundering voice. The image was gone in a flash. I was alone in the room again. I felt a chilling freeze whistle through the crack at the bottom of the front door and tickle my ankles. “Who are you?” I asked. Silently no answer nor movement. “Are you me?” I asked. Still no answer. Then i I heard footsteps outside my closed bedroom door. I sprinted for my door and locked the push lock in the door handle. I dropped my back against the door and tried to catch my breath. Who are you for the last time? No answer. It gave me a very long, silent seconds. I was interrupted by something sliding underneath the crack of the door. It poked me in my backside and caused me to scream. I became so cold I could no longer move. The shadow appeared with voice resembling Cynthia . Hallo Fred? “ Don’t be scared i want you to carry a task for me , i want you to avenge my death”. I couldn’t imagine it was Cynthia all along causing me not to sleep . Her ghost had grown into a man. Man who looked just like me. That moment was rudely interrupted by many voices saying ; “Kill Cynthia, She is a witch I hate her She is evil. I wanted to know if this was a dream, real life, or a prank . She appeared again, this time wearing red blouse with blood staining her ugly rugged face…

Budding Dirt's poetry is intelligent, musical, gritty in observation, graceful in method. You can see a young man building his house of poetry & music, my writing reflect on building a balance society and making it a home. .

Behind Budding Dirts’s beautiful Brain their is a big heart. a conscientious kenyan citizen, using his high profile for doing philanthropic work and is actively involved in a number of charities.music is partly partilly what i like doing.So lets go change world for a better place..