EPISODE 8: The Whispering Graveyard
I couldn’t speak for three days.
The morning after Adaeze died in my arms, I woke up to find my throat raw, my tongue dry, and my voice completely gone.
No sound came out—just breath.
But the pain in my chest was louder than screams.
I hadn’t offered her.
She chose to protect me.
But the bride accepted it as a willing sacrifice… and now, the curse had been fed.
Mama Chinyere came to me in the night, her eyes wet and heavy. She sat beside me as I scribbled in a notebook:
“Why can’t I speak?”
She sighed and said,
“You took the curse in and denied it. Now it lives inside you. Until you face it… your voice will stay buried.”
I pointed at the wall, then wrote:
“How do I face it?”
She hesitated, then replied:
“By going to the place where the first heart was buried.”
“Where?”
Her eyes darkened.
“The Whispering Graveyard.”
At midnight, we walked together through the dense forest, guided only by a lamp and the prayers on her lips.
Owls flew away before we got close.
Even the wind turned back.
Eventually, we reached a gate made of human bones. Yes—real bones.
Above it, carved into wood:
“Here lie the unpaid debts.”
Inside were unmarked graves, arranged in a perfect circle. In the center was a single standing stone, covered in black mold.
The air was heavy with voices, whispering from the earth.
I dropped to my knees and touched the soil.
Instantly—visions flashed through my head.
I saw Obande, the bride, alive. Beautiful. Pregnant.
I saw the villagers—burning her alive as she screamed.
I saw her curse them, one by one.
“You will never bury your wickedness. You will live in it.”
I saw every sacrifice made over centuries.
Mothers trading daughters. Fathers offering sons. Lovers giving lovers.
And I saw my mother, pregnant with me… signing her soul away in a mirror, whispering
Though I couldn't hear the whisper
TO BE CONTINUED
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