Chapter Thirty

Bianca made it to school with the help of the police van, but she was terrified of what would happen to her because she was going to the same university as the ferocious James Brin. The police officers suggested to her that a transfer to another university might be better for her since her life was under threat. She remained confident that she would complete her studies successfully and that she would not face any threats from James Brin. If she did, she would contact them. When they got to her university, she exchanged phone numbers with the police officer, and they promised to contact the police station nearest to her school to safeguard her, and there would also be regular phone calls between them and the nearby police. The police officer went ahead to inform the vice chancellor of the university of the case that happened between Bianca and James Brin. Suggesting to the vice chancellor that proper military and security surveillance should be manned all around the school premises to avoid bad events from happening. The vice chancellor thanked them for their suggestions. He also promised to protect Bianca from any form of harassment by placing special spies all around her.

Bianca was still somehow emotionally down. She had called Mary and Joe to inform them about the ugly incident that had happened to her. Joe gave her some instructions that she must fulfill to avoid James's trouble, which she agreed to. She became afraid of any slight unpleasant noise; her roommates weren't reliable as she tried to keep to herself, but they kept coming to her, attempting to engage her in chit-chat conversation, but she kept disappointing them. She had succeeded in creating a frosty relationship, even to the extent that her roommates didn't approach her. She collected the jottings made by one of her coursemates, whom she never knew before but met in the lecture hall to write down the missed lecture notes. Her life was now in triangle mode. Hostel, church, and school. She didn't form a reading caucus. No more reading in the library for her. Her room was comfortable for her reading. She spends much time sleeping in the hostel immediately after she has closed for lectures for that day, so she would wake up early at midnight to read her books.

Her plan appeared to be extremely successful. She hasn't seen James Brin again. No more disturbances and she could sleep without any bad thoughts lingering in her mind. Not until the day she slept and woke from a nightmare. She looked at her surroundings and heard her roommate's deep breath while sleeping. She looked at her phone to see what time it was; it was 1: 30 a.m. She went into her call log and looked for Mary's number; she found it and dialled her number, but it didn't work. She tried several times, but it seemed all her efforts were futile. She decided to go back to sleep, but her mind pricked her to stand up from the bed and walk to the bathroom; perhaps she might call Mary again, and she might answer. She followed her mind and got up from her bed. She stooped to the floor to take her slippers, and when she felt the paper, it was like a book. She picked it up very quickly and perhaps thought it was her book that might have fallen to the floor. She switched on her reading lamp, trying to discover which of her books fell to the floor.

The book cover was strange; she couldn't recall a time when she bought a book whose cover looked like what she was seeing presently. She opened the book, and the first page was blank. She opened the next page cautiously and curiously, eager to know if something had been written on it. Yet she saw nothing. Then she was about to close it and keep it on her bed when she traced a blue line. She stuck her hand to that page, then opened it widely. A very short note with legible and clear writing was on it. She admired the beautiful handwriting and was eager to read what was written.

"Dear Bianca, this is a letter to only you.

You have personally hurt me, and you've succeeded in deflating my ego. I'd show you how bad it is to make someone feel ashamed and without honour. Just take note that I would personally make you regret your evil deeds. Don't think you can outsmart the devil with his well-known tricks. Just watch and see who wins.

Useless brat."

She finished reading it, then closed it immediately and pondered about who wrote it. She opened the book again to where the handwriting was and guessed if this would be her roommate's handwriting, but she was sure that this wasn't their handwriting. She then pondered who might have dropped it here. She came earlier than her roommates after each lecture. She imagined if this was James's handwriting, but this writing was too beautiful to be compared to James's handwriting. She hadn't seen James after the court hearing, but she was certain James was currently enrolled in school. She looked at the writings again, searching for any trace of identity, but there wasn't. No name, no signature—everything was anonymous. She quickly picked up her phone and dialled Mary's number. It wasn't going "What the heck is this?" she whispered frustratingly. She dialled it again, but still it wasn't going. A new idea popped up in her head. She accepted it quickly, and she put it into action by turning on her data connection. Instantly, a picture dropped. It was from Mary. She punched the image. It appeared. She trembled at the mere sight of the picture. "What?" she exclaimed, closing her mouth suddenly with her hand. Her phone dropped on the bed as it bounced awkwardly. Tears rolled from Bianca's eyes as she picked up the phone. She looked at the picture. A picture that showed Mary being sliced on her throat with the knife stuck at her throat. Her vein popped up very well on her forehead. It sent a signal to Bianca that Mary was in a fierce battle with the murderer. Her body wasn't captured; only her face was visible. All the sources of her life—her aspirations, her only female companionship, her mother's advice—and eventually all the sources of her getting a sisterly companionship—had been killed, shattered, and dashed. Bianca felt as if her life was being taken from her; she no longer wanted to live. She imagined being brought to an earth full of wickedness, anger, and hatred. She blamed her mother for bringing her into this dreary world, where every good event that came her way would be turned into sadness in the very long run. It all started with Joe, who acted as a divine helper, and then chaos ensued. She imagined how she was chased out of Joe's house. Now she has a new assistant, Mary, whose father has accepted her as an adopted daughter. All of this has happened to her. Tears started rushing out in torrents from her eyes uncontrollably. She laid down on her bed with tears in her eyes. She tried sleeping, but she couldn't. She imagined how the devil had spiced up her life from the moment she was born. She twisted and turned on the bed, finding no peace in her mind. Thought upon thought came and lingered in her mind, but there was yet no perfect answer to any thoughts that came her way. She considered telling Joe immediately about the incident, but she was too weak to take her phone.

The time she had been waiting for had come. Dawn broke through; she quickly jumped into the bathroom and took her bath. After she had her bath, she dressed up and walked out of her room. She got on the road, heading in the direction of the vice chancellor's office to get a letter of permission to leave the school. On getting there, she checked her time; it was still early. The time was 6:05 a.m. She prayed that she would see the vice chancellor in his office or at least see him on the road if any of that didn't happen. She wished for him to appear in front of her as she walked. Ultimately, she got there. She looked straight at the door of the vice chancellor and saw it slightly opened. She raised her head high to the sky and thanked God for answering her prayers. She tiptoed nearer to the door, and when she got there, she vibrated a little and then knocked gently on the door.

"Who is there?" the vice chancellor voiced out.

"I am the one," Bianca said, with a light tone, feeling sorry for her action.

"What's your name?" he demanded angrily.

"This is Bianca Ezla. I am sorry for the inconveniences, sir," she pleaded.

"Oh, I didn't know that you were the one. Please come in," he said joyfully and polemically.

She pushed the door gently, slightly, and cautiously, and then greeted him. He smiled at her and noticed that her mood wasn't as bright as when he last saw her.

"Anything wrong?" observed the vice chancellor, "I hope you slept well."

Bianca burst out in tears. She cleaned her tears with her hand and then looked slowly at his face.

"My daughter, what is wrong with you so early this morning?"

"I don't want to live again, sir. This earth is unbearable for me to live on it. I deserved to die." She spoke with a cracked voice that sounded like a whisper.

"My daughter, you know you are gold; everybody will cry if you die. Please don't say you want to die. You don't know how cherished you are right now," advised the vice-chancellor.

Her hope was reignited by his words. She saw her father talking directly to her in the disguise of her vice chancellor. A belief struck her that she could make it in life, despite all the quagmire situations she found herself in.

"Sir, my sister is dead, an assassin was sent to her," she said, struggling to keep up her voice.

"What! Your elder sister is dead? Where did you get the information?"

"The photo is right there on my phone. I don't know who posted it on her phone."

She unlocked her phone and gave it to the vice chancellor to see it himself. He collected it slowly and stared at the blank screen. "I can't see anything, my daughter."

"Please sir. I don't want to open it myself. It is in the gallery app. The very first image on the list. Was my beautiful sister brutally murdered with every form of rage and hatred?" She nodded her head pitifully.

When he saw the photo, he fidgeted a little, then stepped back a bit. He nodded his head in sorrow and disharmony.

"What a tragedy!" he exclaimed.

"In fact," she said, "Sir, I came to you, so I will be granted a letter of permission to leave school and confirm if it is true."

He hissed, showing a sign of bitterness.

"No problem. I assure you that your academics are in safe hands."

"But please, sir, I need a favour from you."

"Go ahead."

"Sir, I am scared of going by myself. I need military people around me, no, sir. Don't bother. I might be killed by them. My life isn't safe again... I trust nobody now," she cried.

"Dear, I know this burden is unbearable...please take it easy… you are still young for all this trauma. You are passing through… just endure, the future is bright."

"I think that it would be in heaven; I just want to die," she wailed.

"Please don't... don't... don't commit suicide; I beg you... I don't want to cry here. Please, my daughter." His eyes became misty.

"Sir, I don't want to die… Please do not cry. I don't want anybody to become like me, sir… I won't kill myself again, I promise you, sir."

"My daughter, I was just getting out of one. My only male child passed away last week, and I'm hearing this one right now."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir," Bianca apologised.

"My daughter, that is a past story. Let's forget it and concentrate on this present one."

"Alright, sir, I want to leave but I am scared. I don't want to be abducted on the road, again."

"But you refused to go in a military vehicle."

"I am scared, they might kill me."

"You really need to see a therapist concerning your precarious condition. Why don't you give them a try...? I promise, you won't be killed."

"God, I am scared... Help me, I don't want to be kidnapped again."

"My daughter, if you have faith, then believe my word. You aren't going to be hurt. I promise you that."

"Okay, sir," she agreed, "I want to leave now…"

"But you haven't prepared."

"Sir, I am being monitored, I am scared of just walking back to my hostel, someone might strangle me on the road."

"I guess you haven't eaten?"

"I am not hungry... I lack an appetite... I just want to go home."

"It's 7:20," he checked his watch, "and I'd like to summon an army officer to transport you to your destination."

"Okay, sir," she answered.