Angel Food Cake -Part 1

Barsuene stared down at the faded yellow wool of her blanket, wondering when and why she had begun to hate it so much. When she had begun to hate everything so much. Her bed was surrounded by open textbooks and notes, but she couldn’t focus. Sally’s pink sticky note flashed in her mind. She thought back to the previous day, when Sayali Nnadi and Senami Salako leaned over their table in the middle of class and crouched beside her shoulders on either side, the Devil and The Angel.

“Hey, psst. Don’t look back, don’t look back,” Barasuene stiffened instinctively, her pen frozen in her hand, hovering over the page. The sweet, musky scent of Sally’s jasmine perfume wafted up her nostrils just as the cool metal of Senami’s Ed Hardy cross pendant nudged the side of her neck.

“What are you doing this weekend?” The voice that whispered this question in her right ear was Sally’s, soft and airy. Her breath smelled faintly of Chupa Chups cotton candy gum.

Studying, what else? But instead she said, “Nothing. What’s it to you?”

“Senami and I are driving down to my house tomorrow. We want you to come.”

“No, you want her to come. I would rather not spend my weekend babysitting Daddy’s little princess.” Senami’s voice slithered into her left ear, as catty as ever.

Sally clicked her tongue. “Be nice,” She hissed. Just then Dr. Allison gave them all a scathing look, breaking up their oppressive little ASMR bubble.

A few seconds later a crumpled pink sticky note landed on Barasuene’s desk, followed by a kick on her chair-no doubt delivered by Senami’s chunky platform Mary Janes. Barasuene rolled her eyes as she unfolded the piece of paper. Scrawled on it in shiny black ink were the words “Think about it and let us know!” The “i”s were dotted with tiny flowers. At the bottom of the page was a phone number.

Why had they even asked her to come? She knew they despised her and her perfect grades, her boring clothes and her inability to have fun. If I were them I would hate me too, she thought, as she got up to open the curtains and let in the early morning sunlight. There was only one window. She had never really been bothered by it before, but now she wished there were more. It would make her world feel less shrunken.

Her university dorm room, once a cool and quiet place where she could work and study for hours, had started to feel claustrophobic and dank. Her anxiety about it was filtering into her dreams, tainting them. In her nightmares the floor of her room became a wide, slippery throat from which there was no escape-it consumed her and everything in it before trapping her in its rancid underbelly forever.

She shuddered at the image, slamming her laptop shut. The thought of spending another moment alone in this room suddenly terrified her. She strode over to where her book bag hung and rummaged for Sally’s note, heart pounding as she uncrumpled it and dialed the number before her brain had a chance to catch up with what her hands were doing.

Sally picked up in three rings. “Hello? Who is this?” Her voice was even lighter over the phone, like filmy wisps of gossamer.

Barasuene cleared her throat before answering. Her hands were slick with sweat. “Bara-Barasuene. Barasuene Umoren.”

Sally’s laughter was what she imagined fairy wings would feel like. “Oh! Hi girl! What’s up? I hope you’re calling to tell me you’re coming with us.”

“Um, yes. I-”

“Oh, yay! perfect.” She squealed, her voice going up another ten octaves. “Meet us at the student center by 12. Make sure you pack an overnight bag! See you then!”

“Wait wh-” The dial tone screeched in Barasuene’s ears like a banshee, startling her with its loud, ominous finality. She froze as she caught sight of her reflection in her wardrobe mirror-her two month old braids, her dull brown caterpillar skin, her too-bright eyes, bug-like behind her thick lenses. She could no longer reconcile who she was with the girl staring back at her. Already she was metamorphosing into something she couldn’t recognize, her body taking on an unfamiliar, alien form that was at once thrilling and frightening.

At exactly 11:55, Barasuene left her room. She had packed a small overnight bag as instructed, filling it with only the essentials-toiletries, charger, clothes. She tugged down the hem of her dress as she approached Sally’s hot pink Honda Civic. It was a simple white flower print bodycon with spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline, the most risque dress she owned. Buying it had been a quiet act of rebellion that she relished, though she had never been able to muster up the courage to wear it out.

Now the opportunity had finally presented itself, and she found herself wishing it were longer. As she walked by one of the male hostels a group of boys catcalled from their balcony, hooting and howling like a pack of dogs. She briefly contemplated buttoning up the red cardigan she had worn to hide the generous amount of cleavage the dress exposed, but decided against it.

The girls watched her as she neared the vehicle. It was so strange to see them outside of class. Sally’s fawny brown skin seemed even fairer and Senami was less imposing, the sun softening the hard lines of her face. They were leaning against the hood of the car, Sally in a short-short pleated tennis skirt paired with a pale pink tank top that exposed her midriff, Senami in a tight black mini dress that hugged her voluptuous curves. A cigarette hung limply between her fingers. The pit in Barasuene’s stomach grew.

How much did she really know about these girls? She knew that Sally’s mother was allegedly a famous Bollywood actress whose name she refused to disclose, and that her father was a wealthy, reclusive business mogul who gave her everything she asked for but would not see her. No-one knew anything about Senami. She had simply appeared at Sally’s side on Orientation day and remained there ever since like a loyal familiar.

She gave a shy wave when she eventually reached them. Sally broke into a coquettish grin, her smiley piercing & tooth gems catching the light. “Look at you, pretty girl. Here let me take that for you,” She swiped Barasuene’s bag off her shoulder and tossed it through the open window of the backseat.

“Hi, Bambi.” Senami said dryly. The smoke from her cigarette wafted over to Barasuene in perfect little rings. It smelled like burning cherry Kool-Aid. She dropped the cigarette on the ground, crushing it under a heavy. platform boot. “Get in. And lose the cardigan.”

Sally lived in Aquamarine Gardens, a gated community notorious for being home to secret second families, sugar babies and G-boys cosplaying as legitimate businessmen. It was rumoured that corrupt politicians hid their stolen millions and skeletons there too, buried underneath large, unoccupied mansions. Sally’s place was on Lapis Lazuli, a quiet lane lined with imposing Neoclassical style houses. Barasuene couldn’t help but gawk at the sprawling white giants on the drive in.

“Home sweet home!” Sally chirped as they drove through the automatic gates.

“Thank God. I’m starving.” Senami muttered irritably. “I hope Paulina went grocery shopping.”

Barasuene was momentarily dumbstruck. The house towered over them like a colossus, with four thick pillars for legs and a dozen arched windows for eyes. The manicured front lawn boasted pink and red hibiscus bushes, mother-in-law’s tongue and birds of paradise in meticulously demarcated sections. Sally parked haphazardly in the driveway and hopped out.

Barasuene was so stunned that she tripped as she got out of the car, almost falling headfirst into one of the hibiscus bushes. Sally caught her before she landed. “Oops, careful! We don’t want to disturb the fairies,” She said in a low, conspiratorial tone, like the imaginary winged creatures might be somewhere listening. Senami rolled her eyes before lugging her small suitcase up the front steps.

Barasuene nodded wordlessly as she followed them inside, still unable to tell whether Sally was serious or not. She truly seemed to believe the nonsense she was saying. Mummy would say she must have been touched in the head as a child.

“You can just leave your bag there, I’ll set you up in one of the guest rooms later, okay?” With that she was gone, gliding down the corridor like her feet were made of air.

The inside of the house was even more incomprehensible. Unlike the pristine exterior, it was in a strange state of organised chaos, not exactly dirty, but cluttered with things. On the side tables and different corners of the foyer were bizarre art pieces and figurines, some she recognized as Nok style terracotta pieces or Benin bronze. The living room was like a shrine to the younger Sally, covered with baby pictures, painted portraits and awards. In the middle of the room was a 70s style conversation pit with plush crimson upholstery and neon throw pillows. Barasuene felt like she had been sucked into a different dimension, one she was not supposed to exist in.

“If your eyes get any wider they might pop out of your skull, Bambi.” She jumped, trying to remember when Senami had materialised behind her. Now that she had taken off those ridiculous platform boots they were almost at eye-level. Senami smiled sardonically as she sidestepped Barasuene, never once breaking eye contact as she let herself fall backwards into the conversation pit, her dreadlocks flailing around her head in a way that reminded Barasuene of Medusa’s snakes.

She was about to tell Senami to stop calling her Bambi, but paused when she heard a curious sound coming from the room at the end of the corridor, which Sally had just evaporated into. It was an odd, scratching sound followed by a quick click-click-click that was like a purr, but also not. It was punctuated by intermittent squelching noises, like someone was stepping on a bunch of wet towels. The sound was accompanied by a zesty, acrid smell, like vinegar mixed with orange peels and…battery acid.

Battery acid? All the hairs on Barasuene’s arms stood at attention. What was that? She turned back to Senami, who was scrolling through her phone like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

“Did you hear that? What was that?”

Senami stretched like a big cat, her mouth widening into a leisurely yawn. “Hear what?”

“That. That scratching, clicking noise. I think it’s coming from that room. And there’s a smell too.” She covered her nose with one hand and pointed down the hall with the other, her finger wobbling like a rubber pencil. “Sally just went in there. We should check to see if she’s okay-“

Senami was beside her faster than blades on a spinning fan. Her red-tipped acrylic nails dug painfully into Barasuene’s arms. “Don’t go in there.” Her voice was like the pointed end of a needle. “That’s Sally’s room. We don’t go in there.”

End of Part One.

Read Part 2 Here 🫶🏾