Sister Hope fell to her death two weeks after the mist came. Tripped, said the men who took her away and disappeared into the thick grey smoke that covered every view like a board stroke of paint. This news was blasphemy to the headmistress, sister Olivia.
For a good week now, she had been leading the girls into prayer morning afternoon, and night against the evils that the ‘mist’ came with, she strongly believed that this oddity was some kind of adversary that could be prayed away, or fought as she said it, spiritually.
She stared at the men as they told her the cause of the sister’s death, taking her time to drink her water quite dramatically, then rained insults on them for their ignorance of the spiritual. The men simply shrugged and went on their way.
Nneka was unmoved by this when the girls came back from their eavesdropping, in her mind she had already labeled sister Hope a bubbling fool with two feet.
She was rather crude for a nun, always lost in her head when she was not cursing someone out for the littlest of mistakes, nevertheless, Nneka still felt her loss.
Despite her disdain for children alike she never cared for monitoring them during prep. This freedom would be greatly missed, Nneka mused.
That day prayers lasted for three hours straight, praying vigorously against the thing that killed the sister.
“There is evil everywhere,” sister Olivia said, “we must pray that it hurts no more.”
Sister Olivia was a former Mountain of Fire member before converting to Catholicism. Her hysterics and tactics converted into even more hysterics and tactics with a sprinkle of Hail Mary here and there.
She was a big woman with an even bigger personality and presence, Nneka liked her the best out of the three sisters that worked as their matrons. She always made herself noticed throughout the halls with her loud stomping and even louder voice, so when she disappeared it didn’t take long for everyone to notice.
Sister Abena was the only one left in a house filled with children, the great mist growing now into a great fog. As if fed by their paranoia and fear.
Taye called it an evil spirit that had possessed their dormitory, and Kehinda called it a curse for not being focused during prayer this whole time, as the trio tended to fall asleep during mass.
Nneka had a couple of ideas of what could be the cause, after all, they had never had a mist like this since she could remember. The nature of it did not feel foreign or disruptive.
The fog had eaten the sisters, she told them, it was an animal that would feast on them all, after hearing this every girl hearing range kissed their teeth in annoyance. The calls would be led to nowhere as sister Abena found.
The main school phone could not be reached, the police were even more useless than usual and the fog got thicker and thicker with no sign of sister Olivia. So thick that sister Abena feared the worst if she ventured into what she saw as a living trap.
Sister Abena was the youngest out of all the matrons.
Many thought she was ill-fitted for the job, citing her age as a reason.
Despite this opposition, time showed she was the most composed and calm of the three. She rarely spoke, but when she did your thoughts shut up. She never demanded respect and she was never cruel.
She led them into prayer for one last time in the cathedral their dormitory had connected to it.
They prayed in complete silence, each girl speaking to god about their fears, their desire for the warm embrace of home, and the type of yogurt they wanted once this was over.
From the side, Nneka saw the way the sister’s fingers cluck to her rosary as a single tear rolled down her face. This time she prayed for real, she prayed everything was a dream.