CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER THREE:

Today was the day that was supposed to start like any other day, and so far fro Kira, apart from the little commercial break of the input love story on the bus, it the day seemed to be totally comfortable roaming through the territory of normalcy.

The boy was singing again, but with was totally part of the routine now. She was singing away about something about the dead of a clan or maybe something of that nature, but Kira wasn’t going to pay close attention to the lyrics.

Those were part of the rules. The one she made all these years for herself in order to protect her sanity and possibly what was left of her reputation.

For the most part, the later didn’t seem to work because as usual bad things tend to take a lot of time before the go away but at least she learnt control, something that was very essential for the success of her existence.

The rule was always simple on the surface, but very much complicated than the surface value. The idea was the to never be sucked in by the voices. They were always going to be around, always going to be in her head with something to say, so the trick was to never listen.

Not to one not to many. If you made the mistake to listen to one, maybe because it seemed like the most prominent voice in the pack, eventually all you will be doing is opening the floodgate for the rest of the other voices to try and communicate.

The single prominent voice was always the smoke screen, distracting kira from what is truly going on in her head. So today as she open the gates and doors to her salon, she simply maintained this very rule, as the little boy sang away about the extremities of a war.

It wasn’t as easy to ignore like it sounded, but she had to do what she had to do.

She could afford to be seen crouching at the corners, begging to be left alone. She has grown way past that now, and for that she had to work really hard to make it happen.

“good morning Kira” the voice of madame Maureen came from behind as he made quick work of opening up her salon and walking inside.

“good ma” Kira replies, turning to face the big woman with a straight face. In the two years she has been with working at her saloon, never for one day has Madame maureen come with anything worth her time, and kira had a feeling today wouldn’t be any different.

“i need you to braid my hair” M.M says, while stepping past kira standing by the door, to go sit down on a chair inside. Looking at kira expectantly while slowly taking in the surprise on the young girl’s face.

Never has kira ever made her hair before or ever touched the strands of her hair for any reason, but today madame Maureen has woken up craving the touch of kira on her hair. It was the weirdest thing to her, but she had to satisfy her urge.

After she had tried be be friends or at least get kira to tell her the smallest bit about herself and failed , Madame Maureen had thought it wise to mind her business and stay away from that weird girl.

She didn’t know what exactly about her it was that creeped her out, all she knows is that kira had a different energy that surrounded her, and it made her very uncomfortable. She had tried serveral times to start up a conversation with her despite her fears and in the name of good neighborliness but nothing ever came out if it.

Yet here she was, sitting in this girl’s shop waiting to have her made, despite her better judgement, and all that her body had initially warmed again.

“i thought you had someone that already made your hair ?” Kira asked quietly, and then presided to pick up the broom behind the door and began to do the needful.

She was shocked that M.M was there in her shop, but at the same time she knew the woman was the persistent kind. The kind of woman that would stop at nothing until she got what she wanted. And in this case what she wanted was kira’s story.

Just another thing that she would add to her gossip collection when her flock of house wives finally arrives .

“you shouldn’t be making her hair?” one of the voices speaks up, immediately Kira picks up the comb.

These one was a little more authoritative than the others and this time she sounded a little angry. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

A scenerio where the voice of kachi grew angry at her action and subsequently silenced the other voices. Sometimes kira thought about the possibility that angering kachi might be the answer or solution to her constant headache.

But she also knew that angering kachi even for the shortest of times brought about about an endless tirade afterwards. Sometimes it goes on for so many long hours that she falls sick afterwards. Yet the next day everything goes back to normal, with the rest of her memory friends acting like they didn’t just try to kill her a day before.

For today just like any other that kachi had sounded annoyed, kira had no idea as to what was the cause so as usual, she ignored her for as long as she could. Hoping that by the time the aftermath of kachi’s annoyance would come, then she would be at least done with Madam M’s hair.

As she worked, she tried to remember kachi from the time they played together in the woods. The memory of her face was abit vague now, but kira remember that kachi was abit older than the rest of the kids that played together with her.

She was around thirteen or fourteen while the rest of the kids had ages that ranged from six to ten.

Being the oldest gave automatically gave her more power over all the other kids which made since that even now they got mad after she got made. It was kachi that thought kira everything she knew about hair making, it was she that thought kira that she could bury unripe fruits in the soil for a day or two and they would get ripe afterwards.

Kira couldn’t deny the fact the kachi was like a big sister to her while they stayed in the woods, that was while it was kachi she tried to ask why she was the way she was.

Why she remembered her as a voice in her head, why every other kids voice kept playing in her head keeping her up most nights.

Why didn’t this voices grow the way she had grown?

Why they had remained the same even after all these years that made start to really think that she was the one really creating these said voices because she didn’t have any friends in real life.

But then again that didn’t seem likely. There were different faucets to the voices that it just wasn’t possible for her to create them as a coping mechanism. Unless of course she was a crazy person?

That was one possibility that couldn’t be completely ruled out while she explored other less crazy options .